The Italian Doctor's Wife

“Well, most women start with my wallet,” he drawled softly, and she gave an incredulous laugh. In her opinion, all the money in the world wouldn’t compensate for being in a loveless marriage.

“I’m not interested in your money. Money doesn’t make a family happy,” she said. “It’s love and attention from parents that does that.”

“I agree,” he said confidently, his dark eyes fixed on her face. “And Rosa will have that. You cannot possibly be pretending that she won’t benefit from also living with her father.”

She could barely hide her frustration. “But we don’t love each other.”

He frowned impatiently. “I admire you professionally and I appreciate your deep love for Rosa. Mutual understanding is all we need. I don’t need you to love me.”

She looked at him helplessly. “And if I say no?”

SARAH MORGAN trained as a nurse and has since worked in a variety of health-related jobs. Married to a gorgeous businessman who still makes her knees knock, she spends most of her time trying to keep up with their two little boys, but manages to sneak off occasionally to indulge her passion for writing romance. Sarah loves outdoor life and is an enthusiastic skier and walker. Whatever she is doing, her head is always full of new characters, and she is addicted to happy endings.

The Italian Doctor’s Wife

Sarah Morgan

Mediterranean Doctors

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

PROLOGUE

DOMENICO SANTINI slammed open the door of the exclusive clinic, his sensual mouth set in a grim line. Every muscle in his body was tense, every nerve ending responding to the anger that simmered inside his powerful frame.

He strode across the elegant reception area towards his brother’s consulting room, totally oblivious to the rapt female attention which followed his progress.

Under strict instructions to allow no one to see the boss without an appointment, the receptionist half rose to her feet and then sat down again, her knees weak as she recognised the visitor. Even the threat of losing her job wouldn’t have given her the courage to try and stop Domenico Santini.

And he knew it.

The self-assured stride, the arrogant tilt of that dark head and the bored, slightly disdainful look on his sinfully handsome face were the mark of a man who knew that his authority wouldn’t be challenged.

He moved through the foyer with the lethal grace of a jungle cat, and the receptionist stared, feasting her eyes on the luxuriant black hair, the smouldering dark eyes and the muscular, athletic body.

The newspapers and gossip magazines didn’t do the man justice.

He was staggeringly good-looking.

Ferociously intelligent, monumentally rich and wickedly handsome, Domenico Santini was every woman’s fantasy.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ her fellow receptionist drawled softly, following the direction of her gaze. ‘He’s way out of your league.’

‘He’s stunning.’

‘He’s also dangerous,’ her friend muttered. ‘He’s a very famous heart surgeon, did you know that? Children’s heart surgeon. What a joke! The man must have broken as many hearts as he’s mended in his time. He only has to snap those clever fingers and women leap into his bed. Lucky them.’

It was a woman who was on Nico’s mind as he opened the door of his brother’s consulting room, pausing only long enough to check that he wasn’t with a patient.

‘I need to talk to you—’ His tone was curt and he spoke in Italian as the brothers always did when they were alone together.

Carlo Santini leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes watchful. ‘So—talk.’

Two years younger than Nico and generally considered to be the more approachable of the two brothers, he waved a hand towards a chair, but Nico ignored the gesture and instead opened his briefcase and retrieved a slim file which he tossed onto his brother’s desk.

‘Read that.’

Carlo stared at him for a long moment and then lowered his eyes to the file, opening it slowly and perusing the contents.

While he read, Nico paced across the room, his broad shoulders tense as he stared out of the window across the expensively manicured grounds of his brother’s clinic. Occasionally he glanced over his shoulder, his expression impatient as he waited for his brother to finish digesting the contents of the file.

‘So?’ Finally Carlo lowered the file. ‘This girl had donor insemination in my clinic.’ His tone was noticeably cool. ‘I don’t know why you have a file on her, but if you’ve come to me for more information then you’re going to be disappointed. You’re my brother and I love you, but I won’t discuss my patients with you.’

‘This isn’t a clinic matter, it’s a family matter.’ Nico’s black brows met in a frown. He’d expected Carlo to react to the name in the file but he’d forgotten just how many women trooped through his brother’s world-famous infertility clinic every year. ‘And I’m not asking you to break patient confidentiality. Look at the name again.’

‘Harrington. Abby Harrington—it doesn’t ring any bells.’ Carlo peered more closely at the photo. ‘I’ve definitely never seen her before. She’s gorgeous. There’s no way I would have forgotten a face and a body like that.’

‘Then let me jog your memory,’ Nico’s expression darkened. ‘She was Lucia’s friend at school. Remember the shy little mouse who we thought might have a stabilising influence on our dizzy sister?’

Carlo’s eyes narrowed. ‘Vaguely. What about her?’

‘And do you remember what happened two years ago?’ Nico’s tone was lethally soft. ‘Lucia came to me with a sob story about a friend who couldn’t have children.’

Carlo frowned. ‘Yes, I remember that. The woman was in her late thirties and her husband was infertile and—’ He broke off and his eyes travelled from his brother’s icy expression to the photo in the file. ‘Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? This is never the same girl.’

‘It’s the same girl,’ Nico growled softly. ‘As you can see, Lucia’s friend wasn’t in her late thirties or happily married.’

Carlo winced. ‘I’m beginning to understand your interest. If my memory serves me correctly, that was the one and only occasion that we’ve managed to persuade you to be a donor for my clinic.’

Nico’s jaw tightened. ‘Fathering children indiscriminately with no say in their upbringing has never appealed to me, as you well know.’

Carlo held his gaze. ‘But you agreed to do it for Lucia’s friend.’

Nico dragged long fingers through his luxuriant black hair and gave a growl of anger and frustration. ‘Dio, I was totally taken in by her sob story—how her friend’s husband couldn’t father children and how devastated they were….’

Carlo stared at the file. ‘And you really think that this is the same woman?’

Nico’s mouth tightened. ‘I know it is.’

Carlo let out a long breath. ‘Well, if you’re right, it certainly seems as though our little sister might have been economical with the truth,’ he observed, his eyes fixed on the photograph in the file. ‘She looks nearer twenty than forty.’

‘She’s twenty-four,’ Nico ground out, ‘but she was twenty-two when she came to your clinic—twenty-two.’ His voice was raw as he emphasised the words. ‘And she has never been married.’

‘I didn’t see her, Nico.’ Carlo put the file down, his expression serious. ‘Come to think of it, I think I was due to see her but then there was a family crisis and she had to see one of my colleagues instead.’

‘That was cleverly arranged,’ Nico said bitterly. ‘Who do you think engineered the family crisis that kept you away from the clinic that day?’

Carlo pulled a face. ‘Lucia?’

‘If Abby Harrington had seen you personally, you might have refused to go ahead—at least with me as the donor.’

Carlo nodded. ‘Because I would have known that you wouldn’t agree to be a donor for a single girl.’

‘But the doctor who eventually saw her didn’t know that,’ Nico concluded, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘I suspect that Lucia had him wound round her little finger as she did the rest of us.’

Carlo shook his head in disbelief. ‘She certainly thought it through.’

‘If our little sister applied the same degree of thought and deviousness to a useful career then she might stop wasting her life,’ Nico observed acidly. ‘We all know what Lucia is like when she wants something. She is manipulative and persuasive and she can be very, very difficult to resist. Dio, even knowing her as I do, I agreed to be the donor in her little scheme.’

Carlo fingered the file, his handsome face troubled. ‘So how did you get this information? You know we have strict rules about confidentiality at the clinic. How can you be sure that this is your baby?’

Nico tensed and a hint of colour touched his incredible cheekbones. ‘You know how strongly I feel about family. I wanted to check on the baby I fathered.’ A muscle moved in his jaw. ‘I knew you wouldn’t give me the information I needed so I hired a private detective.’

Carlo frowned. ‘But you didn’t even have the girl’s name. He wouldn’t have been able to—’

‘He’s the best,’ Nico interrupted smoothly. ‘He found her. That’s all you need to know.’

‘And have you spoken to Lucia?’

‘Not yet.’ Nico’s expression was grim. ‘I’m going to see Abby Harrington first. Then I’ll deal with Lucia.’

Carlo let out a long breath. ‘Well, don’t be too hard on our little sister. You’re pretty strict with her, Nico.’

‘If I detected the slightest evidence of common sense, I’d cease to be strict,’ Nico said wearily, and Carlo nodded.

‘I know—she’s a total airhead and if it weren’t for you she’d have come off the rails years ago because our father’s too busy to notice her.’ He closed the file and handed it back to his brother. ‘I can’t imagine how she thought she’d get away with it but I suppose there was a chance that you wouldn’t find out the truth about Abby Harrington.’

‘Evidently.’ Nico’s voice was clipped. ‘Both of them must have assumed that I’d never follow it up.’

Carlo sat back in his chair, his dark eyes reflecting his concern. ‘So now what?’

There was a tense silence and when Nico finally spoke his voice was hoarse. ‘I want that baby.’

There was a deathly silence and for endless seconds Carlo didn’t move.

Finally he spoke, his voice urgent. ‘You can’t do that, Nico.’

‘It’s my child.’

‘I know that.’ Carlo’s eyes were fixed on his brother’s face. ‘And I also know what that knowledge must be doing to you in the light of what’s happened to you since that baby was conceived. Nico, you’ve never really talked about it, but you know that if you want to—’

‘I don’t.’ Nico’s tone held a cold finality. ‘I just want to talk about this girl.’

‘We both know that it is one and the same subject.’ Carlo said carefully. ‘I know how strongly you feel about family but we both know that there’s more to this than—’

‘That’s enough!’ Nico’s eyes were hard as he stared at his brother. ‘This isn’t about me. It’s about her. And the child. My child. I feel a responsibility towards that baby, which is why I decided to check on how the family was getting on.’

‘I can imagine how you must be feeling, but you agreed to be the father,’ Carlo reminded him, and Nico lifted a hand to cut him off, his expression menacing.

‘For a happily married couple. Not for a young, single girl with no financial or emotional support. I never would have agreed to father a child for a penniless schoolgirl!’

‘She was twenty-two.’

Nico let out his breath in an impatient hiss. ‘As far as her suitability for motherhood goes, she is a baby!’

Carlo looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘You’ve never met her. She might be a great mother.’

‘I know everything I need to know about her,’ Nico said flatly, ‘and the more I know, the more determined I am to take the child away from her. She isn’t a fit mother.’

‘Calm down.’ Carlo leaned back in his chair. ‘That’s a pretty serious accusation. What’s the woman done?’

Nico gritted his teeth. ‘Apart from conspiring with Lucia to lie to me so that I’d agree to father the baby? Well, for a start she puts the child in a crèche while she works as a nurse. If she wanted a child so badly, why is she working?’

‘Nico, this is the twenty-first century,’ Carlo pointed out quietly, his tone reasonable. ‘Women work. Even women with children. And working mothers need child care.’

‘She shouldn’t have chosen to become a single mother if she didn’t have the means to support the child,’ Nico growled, and Carlo’s eyes narrowed.

‘Well, not everybody has unlimited funds. Maybe she had good reasons for wanting a child—’

Nico made an impatient sound. ‘Why are you defending her? What possible reasons could justify a twenty-two-year-old wanting a baby? She has plenty of reproductive years ahead of her in which to marry a man and produce babies naturally.’

Carlo looked him straight in the eye. ‘I’m defending her because I know that this isn’t about her and the baby. Not really. It’s about you,’ he said softly. ‘You are making this personal.’

‘Dio, of course I’m making it personal!’ Nico flashed him an impatient look. ‘How do you think I feel, knowing—?’

He broke off and Carlo rose to his feet, watching his brother closely.

‘You can’t take her child, Nico.’

‘Watch me.’ Nico’s expression was grim. ‘And you’re forgetting that it isn’t just her child, it’s my child. And according to my sources, the girl is in big trouble. She earns next to nothing as a nurse and she obviously doesn’t manage her money well. At the moment she has been given two weeks’ notice to find somewhere else to live because she can’t keep up the rental payments. My sources tell me that she doesn’t have enough money for anywhere else. Soon my child will be homeless. Do you expect me to sit and watch while that happens?’

Carlo let out a long breath. ‘I can see that the situation is less than ideal, but—’

‘My child does not deserve a nomadic existence with a mother who clearly can’t manage her finances well enough to keep a roof over her head,’ Nico growled, and Carlo watched him thoughtfully.

‘She might not be willing to give the baby up,’ he pointed out, and Nico frowned dismissively.

‘The girl is clearly struggling to bring the baby up alone. I suspect that she will be only too pleased to take a financial incentive in exchange for the baby. Clearly having a baby was a whim and the reality of life as a single parent has proved less romantic than she expected.’

‘I think you underestimate the attachment between a mother and her child,’ Carlo said quietly. ‘Especially a mother who went to the trouble of having artificial insemination in order to conceive. She would have had a counselling session at the clinic and her reasons for wanting a child must have been good. I doubt that she will give the baby up lightly.’

‘You’re wrong.’

‘Maybe.’ Carlo gave a brief smile. ‘But my advice is stick to mending hearts, and leave the serious business of baby-making to those of us with some understanding of the emotions involved.’

‘I understand the emotions better than most.’ Nico’s teeth were gritted and Carlo gave a sigh.

‘Sì, I know you do.’

Nico shrugged, his black eyes hard and cold. ‘Then you’ll understand why I am right to go after the baby.’

‘I understand, but I don’t condone it.’ Carlo picked up the file again. ‘Answer me one question. If Abby Harrington had turned out to be in her late thirties and happily married, would you be threatening to take the baby?’

Nico frowned as if the question was completely superfluous. ‘Of course not. I would have checked that they had everything they needed and walked away.’

But it would have been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life.

‘Then do the same thing now,’ Carlo said quietly. ‘You cannot take a child from its mother. Let it go, Nico. If you want family life, find a nice girl and marry her.’

Nico’s eyes were hooded. ‘Like you have, you mean?’

‘I’m still auditioning for the role.’ Carlo’s dark eyes flashed wickedly and Nico raised an eyebrow in mockery.

‘You feel the need to audition the whole female population?’

Carlo gave a rueful smile. ‘All right, I’m the first to admit that, like you, I’ve never found a woman who can see further than my wallet.’ His smile faded. ‘But that fact doesn’t make this right, Nico, and you know it.’

‘I’m not seeking your approval.’ Nico’s tone was harsh. ‘I came here because I wanted the answer to a question.’

‘Which was?’

‘I wanted to know if you were aware of her deception.’

Carlo shook his head. ‘No. I didn’t deal with her case and you should know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t do that to you.’

Nico’s expression darkened. ‘Lucia did.’

Carlo shrugged. ‘As we both know, Lucia is young and impulsive. And very spoilt by our parents. This was probably another one of her whims.’ He walked towards his brother and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘I know you don’t take advice from anyone, but I’m going to give it anyway. Whatever reasons this girl had for deceiving us, she clearly wanted that child. Don’t jump to conclusions. Are you absolutely sure she knows you’re the father?’

‘Of course she knows.’ Nico was back in control, his emotions buried under the icy exterior for which he was renowned. ‘Lucia told me at the time that her friend drew up a list of qualities that she wanted in a father and I was the perfect match.’

His tone was bitter and Carlo sighed.

‘Lucia adores you, Nico. She probably genuinely did think you’d be the best father in the world and you know that all her school friends worshipped you. She just didn’t think it through.’

Nico’s mouth tightened. ‘She never thinks things through.’

‘And as for the friend—if she does know, she clearly didn’t want you to find out.’ Carlo rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, clearly concerned. ‘This is going to come as a shock to her, Nico.’

Nico’s mouth tightened. ‘Good.’

Abigail Harrington had deceived him. She was clearly a calculating, manipulative woman who was totally unsuited to motherhood. As far as he was concerned, the bigger the shock, the better.

CHAPTER ONE

‘I HATE leaving her—she was a bit fretful in the night. I’m afraid she might be coming down with something.’ Abby reluctantly handed her daughter over to Karen, the nursery nurse who ran the hospital crèche. ‘Maybe I should have kept her at home, but they’re so short-staffed on the ward that I just couldn’t do it to them, and—’

‘Abby, stop worrying!’ Karen interrupted her gently and settled Rosa on her hip, her expression sympathetic and mildly amused. ‘She looks perfectly healthy to me. I know you feel guilty about working but you don’t need to. There are plenty of single mothers in the world and plenty of them have to work. She has a really great time here and you’re a brilliant mother. The best I know.’

Was she?

Abby bit her lip, painfully aware that Karen didn’t know the whole truth of Rosa’s conception.

It was a part of her life that she never discussed with anyone.

And although it was true that there were plenty of single mothers in the world, there were surely very few in her situation. And because she never forgot that she’d chosen this life for Rosa, she was doubly determined to be the very best mother that she could be.

‘It’s so hard for you, being on you own. You must feel so lonely sometimes,’ Karen said gently. ‘I know you don’t like talking about it, but do you ever think of contacting her father?’

‘No.’ Abby shook her head.

How could she? Because she’d been so desperate to have a baby, she’d chosen to do so without the traditional support of a man. Rosa’s conception had been arranged with clinical efficiency and total secrecy, and she had absolutely no idea who the father was.

And that knowledge nagged at her constantly despite the fact that the pain of her own childhood had left deep scars and she was only too aware that having two parents was no guarantee of childhood bliss. She’d been sent to boarding school at the age of seven by workaholic parents keen to relieve themselves of a child they’d never wanted, so she knew better than anyone that two parents didn’t necessarily make a happy family.

But that didn’t stop her feeling guilty that she’d deprived Rosa of a father.

‘You never talk about it and you’re always so self-contained and independent.’ Karen sighed. ‘He must have hurt you so much.’

Abby bit her lip, unable to correct the misconception without giving away her secret. The truth was that Rosa’s father hadn’t hurt her at all. She didn’t even know him. All she knew was what her friend Lucia had told her. That the donor was Italian and very clever. And as for being independent, well, she’d had to be. Unlike most of her peers, her parents had never been there for her so she’d learned to take care of herself.

‘How’s little Thomas Wood?’ Karen settled Rosa more comfortably on her hip and changed the subject neatly. ‘When’s he going for his op?’

‘Tomorrow.’ Abby pulled a face and handed over a bag containing all Rosa’s things for the day. ‘That’s the other reason I felt I had to work today. I need to give his parents some support. They’re terrified.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Karen shook her head, her expression sombre. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how it must feel to see your five-month-old baby going for open-heart surgery.’

‘Yes.’ Abby leaned forward to kiss her daughter one more time. ‘Still, Thomas is luckier than some. We’ve got an Italian surgeon arriving today to spend a few months on the unit until they appoint someone permanently. He’s supposed to be one of the best there is and he’s going to be teaching and working on the wards for a while. He’s doing Thomas’s operation. With an audience of thousands, from what I can gather. I hope he’s got steady hands.’

She stroked a hand over Rosa’s head, marvelling at how silky her dark hair was. ‘You promise to call me if you’re worried about her? Even if she’s just a bit off colour—’

‘For crying out loud, Abby!’ Karen gave her an exasperated look and waved a hand towards the door. ‘Just go, will you? She’ll be fine!’

Abby gave a faltering smile, cast a last longing look at her daughter and then forced herself to leave the brightly decorated crèche and make her way up to the paediatric surgical ward where she worked. As usual she had a dull ache in the pit of her stomach.

She hated leaving Rosa so much.

It was like a physical wrench that didn’t seem to get any easier with time. Given the chance, she would have spent every moment of every day just playing with her daughter and cuddling her but circumstances made that impossible. She had to work. Fortunately she loved her job and knew how lucky she was to work on such a respected unit. She found the field of paediatric cardiac surgery stimulating and absorbing and she knew that once she arrived on the ward she’d put thoughts of Rosa to one side and concentrate instead on the sick children and worried parents who needed her care.

And in a way Karen was right, she reassured herself firmly as she pressed the button for the lift. Plenty of parents worked and their children didn’t suffer for it.