Saving His Little Miracle (Mills & Boon Medical) (18 page)

She blanked out the thought, knowing that she couldn’t think about him without bursting into tears. She had returned to work that day and it wasn’t fair to her co-workers to be moping around the place. ‘It was a lovely break but it’s back to reality now. What’s been happening here?’

‘Oh, it’s been the usual madhouse,’ Amy told her wryly. ‘Too many patients and not enough staff...’ She broke off and grimaced. ‘Sorry! I wasn’t trying to lay a guilt trip on you.’

‘I know.’ Lowri sighed. ‘I take it that you didn’t get much cover while I was off?’

‘We didn’t get any. According to Eileen Roberts there was “nobody suitable” on the agency’s books.’ Amy emphasised the nursing manager’s words by making speech marks with her fingers.

Lowri groaned. ‘That old chestnut. I don’t believe they haven’t anyone on their books who’s worked in PICU.’

‘Apparently not.’ Amy shrugged. ‘Still, we muddled through and now that you’re back, life should get back to normal—whatever normal is!’

Lowri laughed dutifully as the staff nurse went to check on a monitor that had started beeping. It was good to know that she had been missed, although she couldn’t help feeling guilty about her colleagues having to pick up her share of the workload. Still, she was back now and it should make life easier for everyone, assuming that she didn’t need to take more time off soon.

She dismissed the thought, not wanting to explore the reasons why she might need to take any more time off. The break had done Megan good and her health had improved dramatically, so much so that Lowri had felt far more confident about leaving her that morning. She picked up the patient list, trying not to let her mind race ahead. It was too soon to know if she was pregnant so there was no point worrying about that. If she was then she would deal with it and if she wasn’t...well, she would deal with that too.

The thought of how she would deal with that eventuality was more than she could handle and she pushed it out of her mind. There had been a new admission during the night and she went to check on him.

Nine-year-old Alfie Cullum had been admitted with sepsis, a life-threatening condition caused by the rapid multiplication of bacteria and the presence of toxins in the blood. It appeared that Alfie had cut his foot on some coral while he’d been visiting his grandparents in Australia and although the cut had been cleaned and dressed, it had become infected. He was receiving intravenous antibiotics and fluids, which would help to support him, but he was a very sick little boy. Lowri knew the next twenty-four hours were crucial.

His parents were with him so once she had introduced herself she answered their questions as best she could. Naturally enough, they wanted to know if he would get better but it was impossible to give a definite answer. If Alfie developed septic shock then the prognosis wasn’t nearly as good.

‘The main thing is that you brought him in as soon as you realised how ill he was,’ she told them gently.

‘I should have brought him even sooner,’ Deborah Cullum declared, wiping her eyes with a tissue. ‘I knew he wasn’t right but we were all so tired after the journey and I kept telling myself it was that.’

‘It’s difficult to tell for sure with children,’ Lowri assured her, sighing inwardly. She couldn’t count the number of times that she, too, had blamed herself when Megan had developed some sort of ailment. ‘The important thing is that Alfie is receiving the treatment he needs. That will stand in his favour.’

‘I hope so. I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens to him.’

Deborah started to sob. Lowri patted her shoulder and left the couple to console each other. She sighed as she went to check on the rest of her young charges. At least Alfie’s parents had each other and that made a huge difference. Having gone through the trauma of Megan’s illness on her own, she knew how hard it was.

If only Vincenzo had been there, it would have been so much easier, she found herself thinking before she dismissed the idea. Vincenzo hadn’t been there and there was no point wishing that he had. Anyway, she had coped as she would cope no matter what happened in the future. The one thing she must never do was assume that Vincenzo was going to be around whenever she needed him.

* * *

A week passed, and another, and Vincenzo still didn’t hear a word from Lowri. It was as though the minute she had stepped onto the plane she had disappeared from his life, and he missed her. He tried to take his mind off how he was feeling by immersing himself in his work but, strangely enough, it didn’t help. Even in the middle of the most complex surgery, he found himself thinking about her—wondering how she was and if she was pregnant—and it was disconcerting not to be able to channel his thoughts as he had always been able to do.

He was afraid of making a mistake and got into the habit of asking Jack Wallace to join him in Theatre on the pretext of furthering the younger man’s experience. Jack was delighted and Vincenzo was relieved that he didn’t need to explain his real reason for wanting him there. He may have changed a lot in the past few months but he had no intention of letting anyone know just how vulnerable he was.

By the end of the third week, he realised that he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to know if Lowri was pregnant. He phoned her home and left a message, asking her to call him back; however, by the time he left the hospital he still hadn’t heard from her. He went back to his apartment and phoned her again, feeling his irritation mount when once again he got her answering machine. He left a curt message and hung up. It was obvious that she was avoiding him but why? Because she wasn’t pregnant and couldn’t face the thought of having to sleep with him again?

His heart ached. It was the only answer that made sense and he hated it, hated the thought that she had found his lovemaking so distasteful when it had been the most wonderful experience of his life. However, the difference was that he loved her and she didn’t love him.

* * *

Lowri stared at the plastic stick in her hand. She had put off doing the pregnancy test but she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Her period was late and that could mean only one thing.

She checked her watch but it would be another minute before the result appeared. Vincenzo had phoned her twice but she hadn’t returned his calls. She had decided that it would be easier if she could tell him one way or the other if she was pregnant or not. After that, well, she had no idea what she was going to do. If she wasn’t pregnant, could she really see herself sleeping with him again?

Letters suddenly appeared in the test stick’s window but for a moment she couldn’t make out what they said. She took a deep breath and made herself focus, her heart leaping when she saw the single word: pregnant. Sitting down abruptly on the edge of the bath, she closed her eyes as relief washed over her. She was pregnant and there was a very good chance that this baby she was carrying would help to save its sister’s life. It was what she had prayed for and now all that was left to do was to tell Vincenzo.

Lowri left the bathroom, knowing that it would be better to get it over with immediately. He had a right to know and the fact that she wasn’t looking forward to speaking to him was irrelevant. Maybe he didn’t love her but he had done what she had asked of him and she owed him a lot.

She hurried to the stairs, her foot hovering over the first tread when she heard Megan calling her. ‘I’ll be there in a minute, darling,’ she replied, wondering how Vincenzo would react to her news. Maybe he had agreed to help Megan but did he really want the added burden of another child? He had claimed that he wanted to be involved in the children’s lives but what if it had been purely out of a sense of duty?

The thought was so painful that she failed to look where she was going. Her foot missed the step and she gasped when she felt herself pitch forward. She went tumbling down the stairs, cracking her head on the newel post at the bottom. Darkness descended and her last thought before she slid into unconsciousness was that Vincenzo might never know about the baby now.

* * *

Vincenzo was leaving Theatre when one of the nurses informed him that his secretary had phoned to say there was an urgent message for him. He sighed as he went into the office and picked up the phone. He had just spent the last six hours bent over the operating table and he could do without having to deal with another case.

‘You have a message for me,’ he said curtly when his secretary answered, then listened with mounting horror as she relayed the message: Lowri was hurt. She was in hospital and her sister thought he would want to know.

Vincenzo hung up, his stomach churning as he tried to absorb what he had heard, but it was too much to take in. All he knew was that Lowri was hurt and that he needed to be with her. Hurrying out of the office, he headed for the lifts, uncaring that he was still wearing theatre scrubs. With a bit of luck he would be able to get on the next flight to England. If he couldn’t get a seat then he would hire a plane to get him there. And when he did see Lowri then he would do what he should have done weeks ago: he would tell her that he loved her!

* * *

‘I wish you hadn’t phoned him, Cerys. I know you meant well but...’

‘Never mind the buts,’ Cerys said firmly. She shook an admonishing finger at her. ‘He needed to know what happened—end of story.’

‘I suppose so,’ Lowri conceded, although if she hadn’t felt quite so sick then she might have argued the point. After all, why would Vincenzo want to know about the accident? It wasn’t as though he cared about her.

The thought didn’t make her feel any better. When Cerys went to make a cup of tea, she rested her head against the cushions, wondering what would happen now. Would Vincenzo phone to see how she was? Possibly. It all depended how annoyed he was about her not replying to his messages. She sighed. The thought of having to speak to him was more than she could handle at the moment so she decided not to worry about it. She would face it if and when it was necessary.

Thankfully, she had been kept in hospital for just one night while she had been monitored for concussion. Once it had been established that she hadn’t suffered any serious damage, she had been sent home. Cerys had collected her and she had insisted on staying with her too despite Lowri’s assurances that she could manage. Now it was a waiting game. She would have to wait and see if the fall would create problems for this baby she was carrying.

Her heart contracted as she laid her hand protectively on her stomach. She had spoken to the hospital’s obstetrician who had been sympathetic but realistic: a fall like this could bring on a miscarriage and all Lowri could do was to wait and see what happened in the next few days. The thought that her carelessness might mean her losing the baby was unbearable but she had to face it, the same as she had to face up to what she was going do if she did miscarry. Could she sleep with Vincenzo again, knowing that he didn’t love her?

It was all too much. Lowri closed her eyes when she felt tears threaten. There was no point crying. She would make her decision if and when it happened. Anyway, it wasn’t only up to her, was it? It also depended on how Vincenzo felt. Pain rippled through her. He might be no more eager to try again than she was.

* * *

Vincenzo managed to get on a flight to Manchester Airport. As soon as he cleared customs, he headed for the taxi rank. He gave the driver Lowri’s address, nodding when the man asked him if he realised how much it was going to cost to drive all the way to Liverpool. He didn’t care about the expense: he just wanted to see Lowri.

By the time the cab drew up outside her home, he was beside himself with worry. He paid the driver and ran up the path and knocked on the door. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if she wasn’t here. He would have to check out the local hospitals, he assumed, and the thought intensified his fear. He couldn’t bear to imagine Lowri lying injured in a hospital bed and not being able to find her.

‘Yes?’

Vincenzo spun round when the door opened. Just for a second his heart lifted before he realised that it wasn’t Lowri. ‘My name is Vincenzo Lombardi,’ he began, and saw the woman’s face clear.

‘So you came after all.’ She smiled as she stepped aside. ‘Come in. I’m Lowri’s sister, Cerys.’

‘It is good to meet you,’ he said formally, stepping inside. He looked round when he heard footsteps, smiling when Megan came hurtling down the hall. ‘
Buon giorno, tesoro
. How are you?’

‘I’m all right but Mummy’s got a sore head,’ she informed him importantly. ‘She fell down the stairs.’

‘How awful,’ he replied, bending to give her a hug. He straightened and turned to Cerys. ‘May I see her?’

‘Of course.’ Cerys opened the sitting-room door and put a finger to her lips. ‘She’s having a nap so why don’t you go in and sit with her until she wakes up?’ She took hold of Megan’s hand when the child went to follow him. ‘Come on, sweetie. Let’s go and make some cupcakes as a surprise for Mummy.’

Vincenzo closed the door as Cerys led Megan away. Crossing the room, he stared down at Lowri, his heart filling with so many emotions, most of which he hadn’t believed himself capable of feeling. He loved her so much, needed her, wanted to spend the rest of his days with her, but would it happen?

Or was he destined to live his life on the perimeter of hers, a visitor who dipped in and out of her world at intervals but never occupied a real space? He couldn’t bear to think that was all he might ever be but he had to face facts, and the most important fact of all was that Lowri didn’t love him and there was no reason to think that she would.

* * *

Lowri awoke slowly, feeling disorientated as she always did if she fell asleep during the day. Easing herself up against the cushions, she looked around, surprised when she realised how late it was. If the clock on the mantelpiece was to be believed she must have slept for several hours.

‘So, you are awake at last,
cara
. Good.’

The deep voice seemed to reverberate throughout the room and she jumped. Turning her head, she stared in shock at the figure standing by the window. He had his back to the light so that his face was in shadow but he sounded so like Vincenzo that for a moment she almost believed it was him until she realised that it was her imagination playing tricks. Vincenzo would never have flown all this way to see her; he didn’t care enough. The thought brought a rush of tears to her eyes.