About the Authors

MARION LENNOX has written over one hundred romance novels, and is published in over one hundred countries and thirty languages. Her international awards include the prestigious RITA® award (twice!) and the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award for ‘a body of work which makes us laugh and teaches us about love’. Marion adores her family, her kayak, her dog, and lying on the beach with a book someone else has written. Heaven!

SUE MACKAY lives with her husband in New Zealand’s beautiful Marlborough Sounds, with the water on her doorstep and the birds and the trees at her back door. It’s the perfect setting to indulge her passions of entertaining friends by cooking them sumptuous meals, drinking fabulous wine, going for hill walks or kayaking around the bay—and, of course, writing stories.

Also by Marion Lennox

From Christmas to Forever?

Saving Maddie’s Baby

A Child to Open Their Hearts

Falling for Her Wounded Hero

Reunited with Her Surgeon Prince

The Billionaire’s Christmas Baby

Finding His Wife, Finding a Son

English Lord on Her Doorstep

The Baby They Longed For

Cinderella and the Billionaire

Also by Sue MacKay

The Army Doc’s Baby Bombshell

Resisting Her Army Doc Rival

Pregnant with the Boss’s Baby

Falling for Her Fake Fiancé

Her New Year Baby Surprise

Baby Miracle in the ER

Surprise Twins for the Surgeon

ER Doc’s Forever Gift

The Italian Surgeon’s Secret Baby

Redeeming Her Brooding Surgeon

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Second Chance with Her Island Doc & Taking a Chance on the Single Dad

Marion Lennox and Sue MacKay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90191-2

SECOND CHANCE WITH HER ISLAND DOC & TAKING A CHANCE ON THE SINGLE DAD

Second Chance with Her Island Doc © 2019 Marion Lennox Taking a Chance on the Single Dad © 2019 Sue MacKay

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Second Chance with Her Island Doc

Back Cover Text

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Taking a Chance on the Single Dad

Back Cover Text

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

About the Publisher

Second Chance with Her Island Doc

Marion Lennox

By saving his island…

…can this time be forever?

When Dr. Anna Raymond unexpectedly inherits a fortune, she’s forced to travel to a Mediterranean island and comes face-to-face with Leo Aretino, the doctor she’d once hoped to marry! On discovering Anna was related to Tovahna’s hated ruling family, Leo knew marrying her would be impossible. But now, as Anna uses her inheritance to revitalize the island, can she persuade Leo that they can finally have a future together?

CHAPTER ONE

‘HEAD LACERATIONS ALWAYS look worse than they are. If you’ll help me to a washbasin I’ll stop wasting your time. I’m not dizzy any more. Really.’

The woman’s voice drifting from the treatment room was warm, husky and a little bit shaky. She was speaking the Tovahnan language, with an English accent overlaid.

Dr Leo Aretino knew this voice well. For the last few weeks he’d been expecting her arrival on the island, but hoping he could avoid her.

He hadn’t been expecting her here, in his territory.

The language she was speaking was Leo’s native tongue. The first time he’d heard her use it had been over ten years ago. She’d been standing over a microscope, trying to focus. The ’scope had been fiddly, but Anna had been patient. She’d started humming, and then softly singing to herself. In Tovahnan.

It was a tune his mother had taught him as a child.

Leo had doubted if anyone at their prestigious English medical school had even heard of his birthplace, the island of Tovahna, much less known how to speak its language. He’d cut across her song, incredulous. ‘Where did you learn that?’

‘From my mother,’ she’d said. She’d had the slide in focus at that point and had been looking intently at the nasty little pathogen the tutor wanted them to see.

‘Your mother’s Tovahnan?’

‘Yes, she is. Or she was. She left Tovahna before I was born.’ Anna had checked the slide again. ‘But it’s this little guy we’re interested in. You want to look?’

There was a queue. He needed to look at the bug.

His attention was solidly diverted.

Tovahna was a Mediterranean island, sparsely populated, fought over for centuries until its big neighbours had decided it wasn’t worth the bother. It was now mostly ignored by the outside world. Few foreigners made the effort to visit, much less learn the language. The women of Tovahna were generally olive skinned and dark haired. Anna had red hair and freckles. This didn’t make sense.

‘Your mother taught you Tovahnan songs?’

‘She taught me the language.’ She’d moved away from the microscope, allowing the student after Leo access. ‘I think she used it to assuage homesickness. But you’ve missed your turn,’ she’d told him, switching effortlessly into speaking Tovahnan. She’d smiled, a wide, happy smile that had made him feel even more astounded. ‘Don’t tell me you’re…’

‘Tovahnan.’ And suddenly he’d been close to tears.

Tovahna was tiny, impoverished, its assets gouged for generations by a single family dynasty. Most of its people were trapped in a ceaseless cycle of poverty, but Leo had been so smart at school that the community had rallied to send him to England.

‘Get yourself a medical degree and then come home and help us,’ they’d told him, and off he’d gone, aged all of fifteen.

At nineteen he’d been doing brilliantly. His English had been flawless. He’d fitted in with his fellow students. He’d even been enjoying himself, hardly homesick at all. So there’d been no reason why he should gaze at this redheaded, freckled, fellow student speaking his language and feel like…he’d wanted to take her into his arms.

Of course, he hadn’t. Not right then. It had been two whole days before he’d kissed her.

It wasn’t just that they’d shared a language. Anna had been special.

But that was past history, he told himself as he listened to her voice carrying from the next room. What was between them had been a long time ago. Right now he needed to focus on medical imperatives. A woman he’d met years before was being carried into his emergency room on a stretcher.

He was a doctor and he had to deal with whoever needed to be treated. He needed to haul himself together and go see what the problem was.

The medical problem.

Wow, her head hurt.

The thump against stone had been stupid and entirely predictable. When she’d insisted she wanted to see everything—she now owned a castle and who wouldn’t want to see it all?—her late cousin’s agent had given her a torch.

‘Watch your head,’ he’d told her as he’d led her deep into the depths of Tovahna Castle.

What she’d seen had been a maze of tunnels, some built almost a thousand years ago. Secret passages led in and out from the castle walls, to be used in times of siege. There were hidden living areas, ventilation shafts, storage spaces for weapons, for food and water, all dark and dusty and so fascinating it was no wonder she’d finally forgotten to watch her head.

The thump had been solid and the results immediate. The world had spun and then disappeared. She’d surfaced to find blood oozing down her forehead. Victoir, the agent, had been useless, torn between wanting to help and not wanting to get blood on his suit. Finally she’d ripped off her windcheater and applied pressure herself, then had him help her to the surface.

‘I don’t want paramedics coming down here,’ she’d told him. ‘This looks worse than it is. You’ll have a team of split heads instead of one.’

But emerging to daylight, Victoir’s authority reasserted itself. ‘I’ve called the ambulance,’ he told her. ‘I said those passages were dangerous. They need to be closed off, filled in, before someone’s killed. Kids get in and we can’t stop them. You’ve seen the parts that are crumbling. And now this…’

And then a rattletrap ambulance had come blaring down the cobblestoned street to the castle forecourt, and Anna had been bundled inside before she could object.

She could hardly blame them, she decided. She probably did look like something out of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and, to be honest, she was still a bit woozy. So she’d lain back and let the paramedics put in a drip to compensate for blood loss. She’d felt every bumpy cobble as they’d made their way who knew where, until finally she’d been carried into what looked a plain, businesslike emergency entrance.

‘The doctor’s on his way,’ a middle-aged nurse told her. She didn’t attempt to remove the windcheater-pad Anna was still holding. ‘Don’t worry. Our Dr Leo’s on duty and he’s the best we have.’

And her bad day suddenly got worse.

Dr Leo. No! Please…

But then the door swung open and a guy in a white coat was beside her trolley. ‘Maria, what do we have here?’

And her worst fears were realised.

Leo Aretino. Her first love.

Her greatest love.

How could you be truly in love at nineteen? You couldn’t be, she’d decided. What they’d had had been a teenage fling.

He’d broken her heart, but teenagers’ hearts were made to be broken. She’d told herself that over and over in the years between then and now. She’d met other men. She’d even fancied herself in love with them, but the thought of Leo had always stayed with her. Tall, dark, intense, speaking the language of her mother, making her laugh, studying with her, making her body sing…

And then walking away…

She closed her eyes. Her head felt like it was about to explode and it wasn’t just the pain from the accident.

She’d guessed she might meet him when she came here, but to meet him now, like this…

‘It’s Anna Raymond.’ The nurse’s voice held suppressed excitement. ‘Anna Castlavara. Katrina’s daughter. Victoir was showing her the tunnels under the castle.’

‘Of course.’ Leo’s voice was smooth, unfussed, as if the name meant nothing to him. Had he known she’d be in the country? He must have, she thought. For Tovahna this must have been big news.

It had been big news to her. Her cousin’s death. An inheritance so huge she could hardly take it in.

Leo.

‘Anna and I have met before.’ Leo still sounded calm. Professional. Like she was one of the scores of patients he saw each day. She was a fellow student he’d had a casual fling with ten years ago. No more.

A fellow student who’d inherited most of his country?

‘Anna.’ His voice gentled and he spoke in English. ‘Are you with us?’

‘I’m with you.’ She couldn’t keep ten years of resentment from her voice. ‘Unfortunately.’

‘Can you open your eyes?’

‘I can but I don’t want to.’

‘Because the light hurts?’

‘Because I don’t want to see you.’

And the man had the temerity to chuckle.

‘Still the firebrand I remember, then, Anna? Okay, keep those eyes closed and I’ll check out the rest.’

His hand was on her wrist and the touch made her…what? She should want to pull away.

She didn’t do that either.

He didn’t touch the pad on her head. He was doing an overall assessment, she thought, checking the IV line, blood pressure, the paramedic notes. Taking in the whole picture.

He was a fine doctor. She remembered that comment at their graduation ceremony. Leo hadn’t been there. As soon as his last exam was behind him he’d left to do a fast track course in surgery before heading home. To Tovahna. But at the graduation his name had been read out with pride by the head of the medical faculty. ‘Dr Leo Aretino has topped almost every class during his time here and he intends returning to serve his country. He’s a doctor we can be proud of, now and into the future.’

So she was in good hands. Leo’s hands.

She hurt.

‘Is it just your head?’ The laughter was gone now—he was all doctor—and that gentle voice she remembered so well was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes. ‘Anna, have you hurt anything else?’

‘Just m-my head,’ she managed, and was ashamed it came out as a stammered whisper.

‘Do you remember what happened?’

‘There was a cavern with ancient pottery urns. I bent to see and then stood up.’ She managed to dredge up a bit of indignation but it was directed at herself. ‘Victoir said it was dangerous and I didn’t listen.’

‘The notes said you lost consciousness.’

‘Victoir said I was out of it for a few seconds, but all I can remember is bang and then feeling dizzy.’

Leo would be thinking of internal bleeding, she thought. Did they have the facilities to treat that here?

She’d read about Tovahna over the years—of course she had.

Still almost a feudal economy, with one family controlling much of the wealth. Most of the population pay rent to the Castlavaran family, and little is put back into infrastructure. Schools, hospitals, public services are minimal, to say the least.

Tourist sites reported on the medical facilities, too.

Travellers are advised to carry extra health insurance to cover transport to a neighbouring country. Medical services are basic. Complex medical situations often mean either evacuation or a less than satisfactory outcome.

A less than satisfactory outcome. Death?

‘If I did lose consciousness it was only for seconds,’ she said, more surely now. Wanting to reassure herself as well as him. ‘You know split heads bleed enough to make people think you’re at death’s door.’

‘Blood running down faces does seem to frighten onlookers,’ he agreed, and she heard the hint of humour return. It was the laughter she’d fallen for. Oh, Leo… ‘We’ll take X-rays to be sure, though.’

‘You have facilities?’

‘Amazingly, we have.’ The laughter was still there, but underneath…the trace of bitterness she’d heard only once but would remember for ever. Old accusations flooded back. ‘Your family has sucked our country dry…’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…’

‘Let’s take a look,’ he said, gentle again, and he moved the padded windcheater aside.

The paramedics had moved it to do a fast check but they’d replaced it and bound it fast, thinking it was best not to disturb things until they had a doctor’s back-up. Now the bleeding had stopped, and it had become sticky. She felt the windcheater tug on the dried blood in her hair.

She had no choice. Finally she opened her eyes.

Leo was right there, leaning over her. His face was maybe two hand widths from hers. This was a Leo who was older, his face creased a little, with age, with weather, his eyes seemingly deeper set.

But he was the same Leo. Those gorgeous brown eyes. The deep black, crinkly hair, a bit unkempt. The laughter lines. His mouth…

It was as if he was about to kiss…

Um…not. He was looking at her head, not into her eyes.

Oh, but those eyes…

She needed to get over herself.

She’d never intended seeing him. Once she’d got over the shock of her inheritance, her intention had been to come here fast, put the organisation of the estate firmly back into the hands of her cousin’s agent and then retreat. She knew the country was impoverished and she had no intention of making it more so. Her uncle and then her cousin had squirrelled away rents and profits. She needed to figure a way to channel them into charities, and then go home.

Home was in England, where she worked as a family doctor in a village a couple of hours south of London. The community was lovely and she loved her job. She had two beloved springer spaniels, dopy but fun. She’d recently broken up with a rather nice lawyer but they were still friends. She had lots of friends. Life was good.

This inheritance had been like a bombshell. Now, looking up into Leo’s face, it seemed even more so.

For the reason things had never progressed with her ‘rather nice lawyer’ was right here. After all this time, to have this memory messing with her life…

This memory? Leo.

But Leo wasn’t looking at her. His fingers—oh, she remembered those fingers—were carefully untangling the matted hair so he could see what he was dealing with.

‘This was some thump,’ he told her. ‘You’ll need stitches and a thorough check. Sorry, Anna, but we need to shave some of your hair.’

‘Nothing a scarf won’t hide,’ she said, trying for lightness. ‘It was my own fault.’

‘But you were down in the underground labyrinth.’

‘Just checking.’

‘Checking your inheritance.’

‘That’s right.’ How hard was that to say lightly?

‘I’m sorry about your cousin.’

‘Really?’ She was trying not to wince at the feel of his fingers. Not from pain, though. He was being gentle.

He always had been gentle.

‘Yanni’s death was unexpected,’ he told her, still carefully probing. ‘Although with the lifestyle he led…’

‘Eating and hoarding money,’ she said. ‘I’ve been told. My mother said his father—Mum’s brother—was the same.’

‘And he died of a heart attack as well,’ Leo said. ‘Twenty years apart, both their deaths almost instant. Your cousin was only thirty-eight, but with the lifestyle he led and his family history… There was nothing we could do.’

‘Hey, I’m not blaming you.’ She sighed. Her head really did hurt. ‘Leo, could you find someone else to stitch my head? To be honest, having you treating me is making me feel a whole lot worse. You don’t like anything about me and my family, right?’

‘I treated your cousin,’ he said, without answering her question. ‘Or I tried to. He refused to listen to concerns about cholesterol or weight. But I did my best. I’ll do my best with you.’

‘You can’t imagine how grateful that makes me feel,’ she muttered. ‘Is there no one else?’

‘Not right now. Our only other doctor is in the midst of a birth.’

‘You only have two doctors?’

‘This island’s small.’

‘I’ve read about it. Twenty thousand people. Two doctors?’

‘You tell me how to get the money to train them and I’ll do something about it. We have a couple of islanders we’ve trained as nurse-practitioners. They’re good, but for a head wound you need either Carla or me.’

She’d known the island was impoverished. Two doctors, though, for such a population… Now, though, wasn’t the time for thinking about it. ‘I’ll wait for Carla,’ she said, and she knew she sounded belligerent but she couldn’t help it. This man had hurt her in the past and hurt her badly. She didn’t want him anywhere near her.

‘I doubt if you can wait that long.’ He stood back a little, studying her. Like an interesting bug? Like he didn’t even know her. ‘So what were you doing climbing under the castle without a hard hat?’

‘A hard hat…’ she said cautiously, and thought about it. Or tried to think about it. The knock had made her feel ill, and Leo’s presence was now removing almost all the rest of her ability to think logically. ‘Maybe that would have been sensible,’ she conceded at last. ‘It wasn’t offered as an option, though, and I really wanted to see.’

‘So Victoir took you underground?’

‘He was my cousin’s agent. He knows the place.’

‘He also knows the rule about hard hats. He didn’t warn you?’

‘Of course he did. He said it’s dangerous. He said the entire underground needs to be closed off, and I guess now I agree. My inheritance states that capital must be used to improve or maintain the castle itself. That’s pretty limiting. Victoir’s idea is that I close off the underground area and divide the castle into apartments. He says with the view over the sea they’ll command exorbitant rent and provide an economic boost for the whole island.’

‘I imagine they will,’ Leo said dryly. ‘And an economic boost for Victoir as well. So he told you that going underground was dangerous.’

‘I told you.’ She sighed. ‘Leo, can we just get on with this? Fix my head, charge me what you like and let me go.’

‘You know I won’t keep you longer than I must,’ he said, formally now. ‘But losing consciousness… You know as well as I do that overnight obs are essential. Like it or not, you’re stuck here for the night.’

He turned back to the nurse, switching back into Tovahnan. ‘Maria, let’s get this X-rayed before we do a proper clean-up,’ he told her. ‘Can you take her through? I’ll get some pain relief in first, though.’ He turned back to Anna. ‘Pain… One to ten?’

She thought about it and decided to be honest. Her head was thumping.

‘Maybe…six?’

‘Ouch,’ he said, sympathetically. ‘You do need that X-ray. But a nice shot of something first. Any allergies?’

‘None.’ What he said made sense. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and was annoyed at how feeble she sounded.

And astonishingly he touched her hand, lightly. It was the kind of touch he might give any patient he wanted to reassure. It was entirely professional, so why it seemed to burn…

It didn’t. She was being dumb. This kind of thump on her head would make anyone dumb, she told herself. He was being purely professional. ‘Right, let’s get you sorted. Maria can take X-rays. I’ll come back with the results as soon as I can.’

‘Thank you,’ she managed. ‘There’s no hurry.’

‘There’s always a hurry,’ he said, and suddenly it was a snap. ‘That’s what my life is, thanks to your family.’

Your family… The words resonated, an echo of what he’d said all those years ago.

‘Your family robs my country blind, leeching every asset we ever had. How can I associate myself with anyone even remotely connected to the Castlavarans? I’m sorry, it’s over, Anna.’

‘So the judgement’s still there,’ she managed, and stupidly she was starting to feel her eyes well with unshed tears. It was the shock, she told herself. A decent thump on the head always messed with the tear ducts.

It wasn’t anything to do with this arrogant, judgemental guy she’d once loved with all her heart.

‘It’s not judgement, it’s knowledge,’ he told her. ‘Maria will take care of you. I’ll be back to sew things up. By the way, I will be charging.’

‘Charge what you like,’ she muttered. ‘And get me out of here as soon as possible. All I want to do is go home.’

He wanted her out of here as much as she wanted to be gone. Maybe more. The thought of a Castlavaran in his treatment room should be enough to make his skin crawl.

Only this was Anna, and what he felt for her…

She was two parts, he conceded. She was Anna Raymond, the redheaded, gorgeous, fun-loving fellow student he’d fallen in love with. But she was still Anna Castlavara, daughter of Katrina Castlavara, who was in turn the daughter of a family who’d held the wealth of this small country in its grasping hands for generations.

‘They’re nothing to do with me.’

He remembered Anna’s response when he’d first discovered the connection. His reaction had been guttural, instinctive, incredulous. For six months he’d been dating her. He’d been nineteen, a student madly in love, thinking life was as good as it could get. And then he’d met her mother.

Katrina had been in America when he’d first met Anna, with a guy Anna had said was one of a string of men.

‘We hardly see each other,’ she’d told him, but she’d told him little else.

It seemed she’d known little.

‘As far as I know, she left Tovahna in her teens and she hasn’t been back. She said her mother died young and her father’s horrible, but that’s pretty much all she’ll tell me. I imagine Mum would have been a wild child, so maybe that had something to do with it. Sometimes, though…when I was little she’d sing to me, songs like the one you heard, and in between men, when she was bored, she taught me Tovahnan. It’s always seemed fun, our own secret language. I suspect she was a bit homesick, though she’d never admit it. She refuses to talk of her family—she says they’ve rejected her and she’s rejected them. She’s said there’s no way she’d ever go back—that most of the young people from Tovahna end up emigrating.’

They still did, Leo thought grimly. The extent of economic activity on the island was to grow olives and tomatoes, fish and pay exorbitant rents to the Castlavaran landlords.

There’d never been a king, a president, even an official ruler. The island was simply owned by the Castlavarans. For generation after generation they had ruled with a grasping hand and nothing had disturbed that rule. There was little on this rocky island to invite invasion. Its inhabitants were peaceful, ultra-conservative, accepting the status quo because that’s what their parents had, and their parents before them.

Right now, though, the status quo had changed. The last male heir, Yanni, had left no descendants. The inheritance had thus fallen to a woman the country didn’t know, a woman who’d been born abroad, a woman who—as far as Leo could tell—knew little about her ancestors’ homeland.

Was it time for the population to rise up and say, ‘Enough’? The land should be owned by the people who’d worked it for generations.

It wasn’t happening. Any kid with any ambition had one thought and that was to emigrate, and the remaining islanders accepted apathy as the norm. That meant that Anna’s inheritance was being met with stoic acceptance.

Maybe he should lead a revolution himself, but he was far too busy to think of political insurrection. Work was always waiting.

Like Anna’s split head.

‘Please let it not be fractured,’ he muttered as he left her. Not only for her sake either. He needed to get her out of his hospital and then get on with his life.

His next patient was a child brought in by his grandparents ‘because he won’t eat’, which probably meant he’d been given so many sweets he didn’t need anything else. But they’d been waiting for over three hours. The toddler’s parents were off the island, visiting the little boy’s ill maternal grandmother, and he didn’t want them worried, so he took the time to reassure the grandparents. He gave them a chart where every single thing that went into the small boy’s mouth had to be recorded, no matter what, and sent them away dubious. But if they stuck to the chart they’d have forty fits when they saw how much they were sneaking—behind each other’s backs—into one small mouth.

At any other time that might have made him smile, but he wasn’t smiling when he returned to check Anna’s X-rays.

All okay. Excellent.

He still had to keep her in overnight. There remained a risk of internal bleeding.

But first stitching.

Carla was still caught up with a tricky birth. He checked in, hopeful, but there was no joy there.

‘She may need a Caesarean,’ Carla told him. Carla was in her sixties, tough and practical and kind. ‘We’re doing the best we can. First sign of foetal distress, though, and I’ll need you. Don’t go anywhere, Leo.’

‘I was wondering if you could do a stitching,’ he told her, glancing behind her to the woman in labour. ‘Swap places?’

‘I’ve been with Greta all the way,’ Carla said. ‘It’s not kind to swap now.’ And then she grinned. ‘Besides, Maria tells me she’s the Castlavara. I understand why you want to swap. Just treat her like anyone else and then multiply the costs by a hundred. Hey, if you’re nice to her maybe we could persuade her to fund us a new ambulance. Put on your charm, Dr Aretino, and go charm yourself our future.’

To say she was miserable was an understatement. She was tucked into a cubicle with curtains around her, cut off from the outside world. The painkiller Leo had prescribed had taken effect but was causing even more fuzziness, and there was still a dull ache. She was in a foreign country, in the hands of a man who’d made it clear ten years ago that he was rejecting her.

She wanted to go home so badly she could taste it, to her lovely little cottage in her English village, to people who treated her as a friend as well as a doctor, to her two happy, bouncy dogs.

It was mid-afternoon. Rhonda, her next-door neighbour, would be walking her dogs, letting them roam in the woods behind her cottage. The dogs would be going nuts, exploring the springtime smells, chasing rabbits, chasing each other, free…

Oh, for heaven’s sake, she was close to tears again and she never cried. She was an independent, strong career woman and tears were dumb. How she was feeling was dumb.

She should have asked someone to come with her. Her ex-boyfriend? Martin was a lawyer. They’d had what could only be called a tepid relationship before he’d fallen madly, deeply for her best friend, Jennifer. But they’d stayed friends and when the news of her inheritance had come through both he and Jennifer had been fascinated.

‘Summary,’ Martin had announced after considerable research. ‘The estate’s tied up in such a way you can’t offload it and the country’s in a mess. That mess is not of your making, though, and the Trust doesn’t give you much option to do anything about it. My advice? Leave it in the hands of this Victoir guy, who knows the layout. It’s pulling in an incredible income. Yes, the settlement decrees most of the income stays with the castle, but as overall owner you’re entitled to living expenses and those living expenses can be more than generous. You’ll be set for life. Sign the papers and forget about the rest.’

But it seemed too big, too huge, to simply sign and forget. Her colleagues were intrigued and helpful. Rhonda was happy to take care of the dogs.

There was the long-ago memory of a boy called Leo, but Tovahna was surely not so small she’d bump into him in the street.

So she’d bumped into a twelfth-century stone ceiling and she’d found Leo all by herself.

Oh, her head hurt.

And then Leo was back, brisk, formal, hurried. ‘Okay, Anna, let’s get these stitches sorted. Your X-rays are clear. No fractures. We’ll need to keep you in overnight for obs—you know that—but there should be no problem. Maria’s bringing what we need now.’

She hadn’t heard footsteps. She hadn’t heard the curtain draw back. Leo was just…here.

Her head felt like it might explode.

If she’d had a few seconds’ warning, if she’d heard him approach, then maybe she could have kept control, but she hadn’t and she didn’t. She made a desperate grab for the tissue box on the side table and buried her face in a sea of white.

Heroines in movies cried beautifully, glistening droplets slipping silently down beautifully made-up faces, lips quivering as brave heroines fought back overwhelming sadness. Then they’d blink back remaining tears and gaze adoringly at their hero with eyes still misty, and…most infuriating of all…not a hint of puffiness in sight. Then there’d be a kiss, with the heroine not even needing to sniff.

But that was in movie land, not on an examination trolley in a sterile, strange emergency room. Anna had to sniff. More, she had to blow her nose and even when she blew it, it kept running. And blinking was useless with this flood. Her shoulders were shaking with silent sobs and she couldn’t stop them.

This was crazy.

But maybe she should cut herself some slack.

She’d hardly slept since she’d received the news last week. The journey here had been arduous—where were decent connections when you needed them? Victoir had bombarded her with information she’d had no hope of getting her head around but she knew she had to. And then the dark, the bang, the shock and the loss of blood. She was overtired, overwrought, drugged and still in pain. And finally here was Leo, looking at her like she was something the cat had dragged in.

Leo, whom she’d once loved with all her heart.

She was buried under a wad of tissues but she needed more. She made a desperate swipe for the box but she didn’t connect.

And then a wad of dry tissues was tucked into her hand. The sodden ones were removed.

She could hardly thank him. She blew her nose again and struggled to stop the stupid tears.

Everything was shaking.

Stupid drugs. Stupid head. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

And then there was a heavy sigh and she felt a weight on the side of her bed. And arms came around her and gathered her into a warm, strong hug.

It needed only this.

The sensible part of Anna should react with horror. Sensible Anna should shove him away, tell him to take his prejudiced, judgemental self anywhere but here. The sensible part of Anna would…what? Walk out of here, bloodstained and woozy. Call Victoir to come get her?

But right now the sensible part of Anna wasn’t big enough to mount a coherent argument. The rest of her was mush, and that mush was being held fast by arms she knew.

She was being held against a chest she loved.

She didn’t love. She didn’t! But right now she needed. She let herself fold against him, feeling the strength of his arms, the warmth, the solidness.

He was wearing a clinical coat, a bit stiff. It felt okay. More, it felt good. Medicine and Leo, they were a solid combination of safety, surety. Home…

Where had that word come from? Home was England, the dogs, her village, her people.

She could feel his heart beating. Strong. Steady. Leo.

The shaking was easing. Whatever was happening, this helped. She had no strength to draw away and she didn’t want to. Drug-free medicine… A hug…

She let her mind stop its useless spinning and focus on just being held.

By Leo.

There was no pressure. He didn’t push her away, even as her sobs subsided. He simply sat and held her, letting her take as much time as she needed to get herself back together.

Letting her take as much comfort as she needed.

And she did need it. She didn’t want to draw back.

This was an illusion, a memory of times past, a comfort that shouldn’t be any kind of comfort at all.

Oh, but he felt…

‘Dressing tray.’ The female voice… Maria’s?…came from the doorway. And then there was an apologetic reaction as the nurse saw what was happening. ‘Whoops, sorry, back in a moment.’

‘It’s okay.’ Finally—to her regret—Leo pulled back. ‘Bring it in, Maria. Anna, are we all right to get these stitches in?’

‘I… Of course.’ The tears were gone. She was bloodstained, puffy-eyed and mortified, but somehow she hauled together what was left of her rag-tailed dignity. ‘Stitches and then twelve hours of obs and I’m out of here.’

‘That’s what we both want,’ Leo said, and, comfort or not, the old resentments surged back.

This man was her treating doctor. She needed him to help her. He’d comforted her with a hug.

She still wanted to slap him.

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS A long night, and it wasn’t just medical need that made it so.

The sweet-eating toddler and Anna’s laceration were the last simple cases Leo saw. The birth Carla was attending did turn into a Caesarean and a dicey one at that. Greta was diabetic. She’d been desperate to have a natural delivery, had persuaded Carla to let her try, but by the time they’d bailed out her sugar levels had been all over the place. Carla took over the baby’s care and Leo was left trying to stabilise mum.

Then there were three injured teens from a street brawl. It wasn’t unusual. The kids here were bored. There were few jobs and little to aspire to.

And the woman responsible was in his hospital.

That wasn’t fair, he conceded as the night wore on. He snatched a couple of hours’ sleep but it was a disturbed rest, interspersed with thoughts of Anna. She hadn’t personally been responsible for her family’s greed.

But she was now. That one person could inherit such wealth, controlling the misery of so many lives… It made something inside him cold with fury, an anger he’d carried all his life.

Dawn saw him back on the wards. The teens were safe, their injuries relatively minor. Knife wounds, bruising, a couple of fractures, but he could cope with those. Ideally one of the boys should be sent to an orthopaedic surgeon, but where were the funds for that? He’d have to balance cost to the family against using the skills he had.

Breakfast was a fast cruise past the hospital kitchen. Carla found him there. She’d been home and slept. She was sixty but she usually chirped like she was about twenty years younger than Leo felt. This morning she was rubbing her temple, though, and looking tired.

‘Headache?’

‘I need aspirin,’ she conceded. ‘Though why I should have a headache when it’s you who was up most of the night… Rough?’

He nodded, swigging lukewarm coffee. If there was one thing he wanted more than anything it was to replace the coffee machine.

A new steriliser for Theatre came first. There were always things that came first.

‘No deaths?’ Carla queried, and he wondered if that was how he looked. Maybe. Anna’s arrival had jolted his world.

‘No one’s dead,’ he told her. ‘Though there are three kids who tried. Knives, alcohol…’ He shook his head. ‘Seventeen years old and not a job or a prospect between them. It’s a disaster, Carla.’

‘So talk to the heiress.’

‘You know the rules. The money’s tied up in the castle. Even if I could persuade her…’

‘You could try.’

‘She’s a Castlavaran. What’s likely to change?’ He swigged more coffee and put his mug aside. ‘Ugh.’

‘But she’s an outsider.’ Carla suddenly sounded chirpy again. ‘And Maria says you’ve met her before.’

Of course. Nothing in this hospital went unnoticed.

‘At medical school,’ he said, brusquely. ‘I didn’t know who she was.’

‘She’s a doctor?’

‘I imagine she finished her training, yes.’

‘Wow. That’s wonderful. You might even be able to persuade her to help us. Leo, what’s needed here is charm.’

‘Charm?’ He eyed her with suspicion. He and Carla went back a long way. In fact, it had been a much younger Carla who’d persuaded Leo’s mother—and the town—to send him to medical school in London. Carla herself had gone there, funded by an aunt who’d emigrated. She was full of energy and ideas and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. He looked at her now and thought, Uh oh. He knew that look.

‘Why not charm her?’ she went on. ‘Maybe even take it further. She’s the same age as you are, and she owns practically this entire country. And now she’s a doctor.’

‘A doctor who’s a Castlavaran.’

‘That’s prejudice,’ she said sternly. ‘I’ve a good mind to march in there and charm for myself.’

‘You’re welcome. She needs to be checked and discharged.’

‘Your patient,’ she said, and chuckled. ‘And your project.’

‘I have work to do. My plan is to get her out of here as soon as possible.’

‘The country’s stuck with her, though,’ Carla said. ‘You could put in a bit of effort.’

‘Leave it,’ he snapped, and then caught himself. Any minute now Carla would be sussing out past history. ‘From all I gather, she’s here to accept her inheritance and go.’

‘So keep her in hospital a little longer.’

‘Leave it, Carla,’ he said again, and he heard his weariness reflected in his voice. ‘We have work to do. Your headache…’

‘Nothing aspirin can’t fix,’ Carla said, and she was watching him now with worry. She’d heard something in his voice. Seen something on his face? ‘Leo, what’s wrong with you?’

‘Nothing that getting Anna out of our hospital won’t fix. Let’s move.’

Leo had written her up for painkillers, so Anna had slept. She’d had some breakfast. A very young nurse had helped her shower, washing away the worst of the bloodstains. She’d be wearing a scarf for a while but she was feeling a lot more in control.

She needed to get out of Leo’s hospital.

Her tiny room was clean but shabby, with faded linoleum, a stark iron bedstead, a small wheeled table and nothing else. Its one high window looked out onto a brick wall and the light was from a single bulb, hanging high. It was hardly a room for feeling better in, she thought. It felt more like a cell.

Had Leo put her in here purposely? Was it the worst room he could find?

She wanted to leave, now.

Victoir turned up soon after breakfast with her suitcase. He was appalled—appalled!—by what had happened and his volubility made her tired. She persuaded him to disappear while she rid herself of the hospital gown, but the effort of tugging on jeans and T-shirt made her feel woozy. She settled back on the bed, and almost immediately Victoir reappeared, this time carrying a sheaf of documents so thick the ache in her head surged back.

‘I can’t read them here,’ she told him. ‘And I need legal advice if they’re to do with the estate. Victoir, I’ll take them back to England with me and get them checked.’

‘I’ve only brought you the urgent ones,’ he told her. ‘These are things that can’t wait. Like blocking those tunnels. I warned you. The sooner they’re blocked—’

‘The sooner you can start turning the castle into your dream apartments?’

The voice from the doorway made them both start. Leo. Of course it was. Victoir swivelled and scowled, and Anna flinched—which was stupid. She wasn’t afraid of Leo.

She was afraid of how he made her feel.

‘Good morning,’ he said, edging into the tiny room. ‘Victoir, can I ask you to leave while I check Ms Castlavara’s condition?’

‘I’m Anna Raymond,’ she threw at him.

‘You own the castle. This entire country knows you as the Castlavaran and I’m not about to argue with my country. Victoir…’

‘Ms Raymond’s about to sign some papers,’ Victoir snapped. ‘They’re urgent.’

‘More important than Anna’s health?’

‘What gives you the right to call her Anna?’

‘I believe she gave me the right some years ago,’ he said, meeting Victoir’s challenge head on. ‘When we met at medical school.’

What the…? Was Leo about to discuss their past history in front of Victoir? She felt herself go cold at the thought.

‘We did meet while studying medicine,’ she said, hurriedly and grudgingly. ‘And he might as well use my first name if the alternative’s Castlavara. Victoir, I’m sorry but I’m signing nothing now. Dr… Leo will tell you that I’ve been taking strong painkillers, so nothing I sign now will be legally binding anyway.’

‘You’re fine,’ Victoir snapped. ‘No one will argue.’

‘I’ll argue,’ Leo said smoothly. ‘Victoir, leave.’

‘Please, Victoir,’ Anna added. ‘And take the papers with you. Honestly, I’m fuzzy.’

He knew when he was beaten. He cast her a look of frustration, but then softened.

‘I’m sorry. You’re right, you’re in no condition to consider. But we’ll get you home as soon as possible. You’ll need a couple of days’ recuperation—your castle accommodation will be a far cry from this.’ And he cast the room a disgusted glance, Leo an angry one, and stalked out.

Leaving her with Leo, which left her feeling weird. Alone, vulnerable…scared?

‘Don’t you have a nurse accompany you on your rounds?’ she asked, and for the life of her she couldn’t stop herself sounding like some sort of sulky adolescent.

‘If I was in England maybe I would,’ he told her. ‘But nurses cost money and this hospital has no money. We run on a skeleton staff. This whole country runs on a skeleton staff.’

It was an accusation.

She didn’t know how to answer. He was watching her like she was some sort of unknown entity, certainly not like a woman who’d slept in his arms, who’d shared his life…

Don’t go there, she told herself fiercely. Move on.

‘My head’s fine,’ she told him. ‘I’m fine.’ Being dressed should make her feel better, more in control. It didn’t. Somehow it made her feel defenceless.

The hurt she’d felt ten years ago was all around her. It was ridiculous, she told herself. You didn’t mourn a lost love for ten years.

But the hurt had gone bone deep, and it was surfacing again now. This guy was too tall, his eyes were too dark. His hair was too black. He was too much the same as he’d been all those years ago.

‘If you’re running on a skeleton staff then I’m taking up a bed,’ she managed. ‘Discharge me now, Leo. The sooner I get out of this cell the happier I’ll be.’

‘Cell?’

‘This room’s awful. Why on earth don’t you paint it?’

He didn’t answer. The look on his face, though…

Uh-oh. She watched his fingers clench into fists at his sides, and then slowly unclench, as if he was counting to ten, and then to twenty, and then maybe to whatever it took to hold his temper.

‘We have two private rooms in this entire hospital,’ he said at last. ‘We reserve them for those who desperately need privacy, usually those in the last days of their lives. We had a death just before you were admitted, which left this room free. Because of your…because of who you are…we believed a single room was imperative. Believe it or not, if we’d put you in a shared ward you would have had half the country visiting the patient in the next bed, just to get a look at you. So we did you a kindness. We put you in what’s one of our best rooms.’

‘Best rooms…’

‘I told you, skeleton staff, minuscule budget, that’s what we have. But certainly I’m happy for you to go. We started you on antibiotics last night. You can go as soon as the script’s filled. Continue them for the full course—there are bats in those underground vaults and they carry infection. I can’t imagine what Victoir was about, taking you down there without protective gear.’

‘He was proving the place was unsafe.’ There were a hundred other things she could have said but she couldn’t get her tongue around any of them.

‘It is unsafe. Obviously. But not if you know what you’re doing.’

‘You’ve been down there?’

‘I’d imagine every adventurous child living within a couple of miles of the castle has been down there.’

‘Bats or not?’

‘They add to the challenge.’

‘Surely my cousin didn’t let kids into the castle.’

‘There are entrances from outside the castle walls. No one’s ever blocked them off. Your cousin and your uncle and your grandfather before him didn’t give a toss what went on under the castle, as long as no one bothered their secluded, indolent lives. Let’s get your head checked and get you out of here.’

‘So I can start my secluded, indolent life?’

He sighed. ‘Anna, I have no idea what you intend. I’ve heard Victoir plans to turn the castle into luxury apartments, with its own internal helipad. An oasis for the super-rich from other countries. With its location, with the Mediterranean right under the battlements, with the right design and your money behind it, such a place could be a celebrity magnet. He hired architects years ago, trying to persuade your cousin that it wouldn’t intrude on his privacy. One of those architects left his plans in a local cab and the driver had them broadcast all over the country in minutes. It came to nothing, though. Your cousin wouldn’t have seen anything in it for him, and that was all that interested him. Now, your head…’

‘So he urgently wants the underground closed off because…’

‘It wouldn’t do to let it get out that the proposed idyllic retreat can be broached by twelve-year-olds.’ He was right by her bed now, too close for comfort, but then anywhere in this tiny room was too close for comfort. ‘Your head, Anna. I’m here to examine you, not talk about plans that have nothing to do with me.’

That shut her up.

He checked her head, not disturbing the dressing over the gash but simply noting the extent of bruising. He checked her eyes, her vision, and then retreated to the end of the bed to read the obs chart. Time for discussion was over.

‘Headache?’ he asked as he finished reading.

‘Only when I laugh, and when you’re here I find it difficult to even smile.’

He didn’t respond.

‘Any dizziness?’

‘When I stand up fast but that’s to be expected.’

He nodded. ‘Take it easy for a few days, then. Do what Victoir suggests. Go lie in your castle and enjoy your view.’

Oh, enough. She pushed herself to her feet and glared. ‘That’s mean. What have I ever done to you, Leo Aretino, to make you act like I’m something the cat dragged in?’

‘That’s an exaggeration.’

‘It’s not. What have I done?’

‘You haven’t done anything.’

‘Once upon a time you asked me to marry you.’

‘That was a long time ago.’ He closed his eyes—remembering?—and when he opened them there was a hint of softness there. Regret? ‘We all do stupid things when we’re young. Proposing to someone you barely know might count as one of them.’

‘You did know me, though. You slept with me for—’

‘I don’t want to go there. It’s history.’

‘Which is affecting how you’re treating me right now.’

‘I’d be treating you the same if we hadn’t slept together.’

‘That’s a lie and you know it. I watched you train as a doctor. I’ve seen you with patients. You’re caring and kind, and last night you couldn’t stop yourself moving in for a hug. Now I’m not going to be a patient any more, you’re back to cold and sarcastic and all the things you suddenly became the moment you learned who my mother was.’

‘Anna…’

‘You owe it to me, Leo,’ she said, calmly now. ‘It’s a question that’s hung over me for years. I know I should have put it aside, but I’ve never understood. I suspect I’ll be spending a bit of time here now, not only in your country but in this town. We may well meet again.’ She took a deep breath, because what she was about to say was a concept so big she was having trouble getting her head around it. ‘I may even be the one who decides on funding for this hospital.’

‘Are you blackmailing me?’ He was suddenly incredulous. ‘What are you saying? Tell me why I didn’t marry you or you’ll cut off our funding?’

Whoa. It was her turn to be angry now.

She’d been confused about Leo for years. They’d had a glorious six months and then nothing. She’d felt hurt, betrayed, sick at heart, but he wouldn’t talk of it. For what had remained of their training, he’d avoided any tutorial she was in. They’d been scrupulously polite when they’d been forced together.

She’d hurt every time she’d looked at him.

She’d been a kid, though, and those feelings should have long gone. She was now an experienced doctor in charge of her world—mostly—and there was no way she was letting this man insult her. Her anger was holding sway but she had herself in hand.

‘Do you think I’d do that? Blackmail?’ Her voice was so quiet that maybe only her dogs would have understood. It was the voice she used when she’d found them with a cornered, injured hedgehog.

Just before they’d decided never to annoy a hedgehog again.

‘It’s nothing to do with me, what you do,’ Leo snapped.

‘If I cut off your hospital funding, of course it’s something to do with you.’ She was having trouble getting the words out. ‘You really think I would?’

‘It’s your right. Heaven knows, we’ve had to fight for what we have. You know you own this building? As landlord—’

‘You think I’d close you down?’

‘You’re a Castlavaran.’

‘So you think ruthlessness is genetic. It’s like the name comes with a money-sucking piggy bank welded to my head.’

‘I know the terms of your inheritance,’ he said wearily. ‘Of your Trust. You have no choice. Money goes into castle maintenance or your comfort. Our funding’s limited to providing provisional medical care for Castlavarans and castle staff. We stretch that as far as we can, to provide for the rest of the island. The Trust’s been in place for hundreds of years, written into the fabric of our constitution. You think we don’t know that you can’t break it?’

‘I know I can’t break it but I’m not about to change things. Your hospital is safe.’

‘That’s great. Thanks very much.’

‘Stop the sarcasm.’ She was getting very close to yelling. ‘So I’m not threatening your hospital but there’s still so much I don’t understand. Ten years ago… Isn’t it about time you told me why you wouldn’t marry me?’

The junior nurse who’d helped her shower appeared at the door. Her eyebrows hit her hairline.

She disappeared, really, really fast.

Uh-oh.

Anna had spent enough time in hospitals to know what she’d just said would be all over the hospital—all over the country!—in minutes. Hospital grapevines were the same the world over.

Maybe she shouldn’t have said it.

But, then, this guy had hurt her. Badly. For ten years she’d needed an explanation and right now she felt strong enough—and angry enough—to demand it.

‘I told you why I couldn’t marry you.’ He raked his fingers through his dark hair, a gesture she remembered. A gesture she could almost feel. She knew what it was like to have those fingers…

Don’t go there.

‘You said there were family problems,’ she threw at him. ‘You said you could never marry a Castlavaran. You said if you did then you couldn’t come home.’

‘Which was the truth.’

‘And I said if the feud’s that bad then we could leave, go to Australia or Canada. I was ready to go anywhere with you, Leo. But you walked away.’

‘I walked back here. To a country that needed me.’

‘So you couldn’t face family hostility. You chose your family over me.’

‘I chose my country over you. I still do.’

‘What, like I’m still available?’

‘I never said that. I never meant—’

‘I don’t have a clue what you meant. You never explained. You just closed down.’ She sighed. ‘Enough. I’m over it or at least I should be. Falling in love with a toe-rag when I was a kid hasn’t defined my life and it won’t define me now. Neither will this inheritance. I have a lovely life back in England. I’ll do what I need to do and go home and let you get on with it.’

‘And let Victoir have his way.’

‘He’s head of the entire castle administration. You think I have any way of figuring out any better plan?’

‘You could try.’

‘And walk away from my life in England?’ She shook her head and the dressing felt suddenly very heavy. ‘Why would I do that? You were asked to change your life when you were nineteen and you made it clear that was impossible. Why should I even contemplate doing the same?’

So that went well.

Or not.

Leo left Anna’s ward and stood in the corridor, staring at the plain, whitewashed wall in front of him.

Memories of ten years ago were all around him. Of Anna’s white, shocked face as he’d told her he couldn’t marry her. Of her reaction of total betrayal.

But how could he have done better? How could he have explained the contempt and hatred that was felt toward her family? As soon as he’d found out who she was, he’d felt his own dumb adolescent heart break. How to explain that his studies, his time in England, his hopes for his future and the trust his people had put in him, they’d all be destroyed if their relationship went further.

Ten years ago he’d faced a bleak choice. Marry Anna and take her back to Tovahna? Impossible. If her uncle accepted her as part of the family she—and he—would have been incorporated into a family he hated. The community who’d scraped to give him an education would have been betrayed.

And being honest, he had to accept there’d been another problem that had been bone deep. He and his mother had been dependent on charity since his father had died. To marry a Castlavaran and take her home, for her to be accepted as part of the Castlavaran family, and for him to be married to her… It’d be the story of Cinderella turned on its head, and at nineteen, sexist as it was, the idea had made him feel ill.

He’d tried to think of other options. Moving overseas, anywhere where two doctors could make a living without baggage? Cutting all ties to her family and to his island?

He couldn’t do it. As soon as he’d heard her name he’d known he had to turn away.

So now… She was still angry? Maybe she had the right to be.

As he’d grown older he’d realised he should have explained better, but at nineteen, bewildered by the complexity of a love he’d been subsumed by, he’d hardly been able to get words out. To explain to his carefree, joyous Anna the abject poverty of his country, the hurt her family had inflicted on his… Explanations would have achieve nothing, he’d decided. It was better to walk away fast.

‘Leo, I said you should charm the Castlavaran. I didn’t say propose!’ Carla’s voice from the end of the corridor made him start. It was incredulous.

‘What?’

‘Luisa said she heard you talking about marriage!’

What the…? ‘She was mistaken.’ He turned to face her, willing his expression to be bland.

‘She was sure.’

‘We spoke in English. How’s Luisa’s English?’

‘Poor,’ she admitted. ‘But she was adamant marriage was in the mix somewhere. She said you sounded intense. If not marriage… You weren’t being accusatory, were you?’

‘I wasn’t.’ He sighed and decided to be honest. ‘We do have…baggage. Anna and I met at med school when I didn’t know who she was. We were in the same class for six months. I haven’t heard of her for years.’

‘And you didn’t tell us because…’

‘Because, as I said, we have baggage,’ he said, exasperated. ‘We dated. Not for long, but what teenager spreads the word about his love life?’

‘You had a love life with a Castlavaran?’ Carla eyed him with incredulity. But then she winced.

Her wince had him distracted. He wanted to be distracted—he wanted Carla to be distracted—but not like this. ‘Carla, your headache…’

‘It’s nothing.’ She sounded annoyed with herself. ‘It’s almost gone.’

‘Is there anything else wrong?’

‘Apart from too many patients to see? So what’s new?’

There was nothing new. The hospital normally had two fully trained doctors and two nurse-practitioners, nurses trained by Carla and Leo to take over many of their responsibilities. It was all they could manage when the cost of sending people abroad for medical training was prohibitive. But Bruno was on leave because his small son had fallen from a tree and fractured his leg. The little boy was currently undergoing corrective surgery in Italy. Freya was recovering from a filthy bout of the flu that had swept through the town, doubling their workload.

Carla had coped brilliantly during their absence, but for the first time ever Leo thought she looked…fragile?

‘Carla, you look strained. Are you sure it’s just a headache?’

‘Truly, I’m better, but thanks for asking.’ Their friendship went back a long way, and now she reached up and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. ‘There. A kiss better and I’m done. But a love affair with a Castlavaran? See me astonished. I demand that you take time later to tell me all about it. By the way, you’re scratchy and I still think you should charm her. Teenage romances can be resurrected and if you want to charm our heiress you’d better go and shave.’

‘I know where I’m going,’ he growled. ‘Off to check the morning list.’

‘I didn’t even look,’ she told him. ‘It’s enough to terrify a woman stronger than me. But our heiress—your ex-girlfriend!—is a doctor? Maybe we could ask her to see a few coughs and colds before she goes back to her castle.’

‘A Castlavaran? Treating peasants? In your dreams.’

‘Don’t be so cynical,’ she told him. ‘It isn’t like you, and dreaming doesn’t cost anything. I might just pop in and introduce myself.’

‘You know there’s no time.’

‘There’s no time for anything but medicine in this place,’ Carla said, and suddenly she was deadly serious. ‘But this woman holds our fate in her hands and she needs to be onside. I know what triage is, Dr Aretino, and triage says being nice to the Castlavaran is top of the list, for all our sakes. And you… I’m thinking a shave is the least of it.’

‘Carla…’

‘I know. I need to shut up and see the next patient, like I do all the time.’

The snap was so unlike her that he took her shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze. ‘Carla? What is it? You’re not coming down with the flu, are you?’

‘Of course not,’ she said defensively. ‘It’s just a headache.’

‘How bad?’

‘Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix. Or another doctor. This country…this health service… I try to be cheerful but sometimes it gets me down.’

‘It gets us all down but we need to cope with what we have.’

‘Or try and charm a Castlavaran,’ she said grimly. ‘I can but try, even if you won’t. Off you go and start our list, Leo. I’ll talk to the heiress and join you when I’m done.’

CHAPTER THREE

VICTOIR WAS BRINGING a car back from the castle. It’d be here in ten minutes, the nurse had told her. Anna was ready to go.

She practised sitting and standing a few times. No dizziness. Breakfast seemed to have settled her. Facing Leo should have settled her even more, and in a way it had.

For ten years she’d wondered what she’d say to him, and somehow she’d said it. It felt empty, desolate even, but it was done. It was time to head back to the castle and cope with the enormity of what lay before her. That was enough to make anyone dizzy.

She wasn’t dizzy now, though. She was being realistic. What had been landed on her shoulders was far too much for one woman to take in.

Her life waited for her back in England—her dogs, her friends, her lovely little cottage. Her friends had been coaxing her to try a dating site. Maybe she could.

But relationships never seemed to work out for her. Her solitary childhood, her mother’s constant abandonment and then Leo’s bombshell rejection seemed to have left scars in the trust department. She dated men who were safe and steady, but then there was always that element of…boredom? Whatever it was, it seemed to stop things moving to the next level. She needed to get over it. It was time she dated someone who thought the world was fun.

And this? She didn’t need to tell a prospective date about the enormity of her inheritance, she decided. There was nothing she could do about it for another twenty years. She’d hand it back to Victoir and set out to enjoy her uncomplicated life.

She’d have fun without the baggage her mother and then Leo had left her with.

‘Can I come in?’

A woman peered around the door, short, rounded, her glasses perched low on her nose. She was wearing sturdy shoes and a white doctor’s coat. A stethoscope dangled from her pocket, her white hair was bundled into a tousled bun and her face made Anna feel instinctively that here was someone she should welcome.

‘Of course,’ Anna told her. She was perched on the bed but stood up. Anna wasn’t overly tall but the newcomer barely reached her shoulders.

‘I’m Dr Rossini,’ the woman said. ‘Carla. I’m Leo’s colleague.’

‘It’s good to meet you,’ Anna said, and found her hand gripped in a hold that was strong and warm and strangely welcoming. It seemed a warmer welcome than she’d had from anyone in the three days she’d been in the country.

‘I’ve brought you your antibiotics,’ Carla said, handing over a box. ‘I picked them up from the pharmacy. It’ll save you fetching them as you go out. You understand you need to take the whole course?’

‘I do. Thank you.’

‘And I wanted to meet you,’ Carla said. ‘You should meet at least one member of the medical staff who doesn’t think your name makes you poison.’

‘Is that what everyone thinks?’

‘Yes,’ she said bluntly. ‘With reason. If you want me to say nice things about your family you should ask me to go away. But I’m not judging you.’

‘That’s good of you,’ she said wryly, and Carla gave her a rueful smile.

‘Sorry. But I thought I should lay our cards on the table. Something I suspect Victoir won’t do on our behalf. Maybe not even Leo.’

‘Your cards?’

‘The country’s cards.’

‘Right,’ Anna said, and the ache in her head suddenly returned. Or maybe it was a different ache. It was the dull throb that had been there ever since she’d realised the enormity of her inheritance.

Strangely, Carla was putting her own hand to her head. Matching headaches? The last thing Anna wanted to do now was talk about the complexities she’d inherited, but she could see strain in the older woman’s eyes. She suspected that what was about to be said would be hard to say.

‘What’s Leo told you about our country?’ Carla asked.

‘You know I know Leo?’

‘He said you dated briefly, at med school. Did he explain the set-up here?’

Briefly? The word hung. It hurt. But she wouldn’t talk about Leo. He didn’t fit into this conversation—in any conversation she intended having.

Briefly…

‘You know the Castlavarans own everything on this island,’ Carla was saying. ‘Everything. We’re a tiny country. We should be centrally governed by a larger state but we’ve always been independent. Our own language. Our own resources. And, sadly, our own official family, a family that’s scourged the land for its own ends and paid to subdue any unrest.’

‘I understand that,’ Anna said stiffly. ‘I also understand there’s little I can do about it for now. You know about the Trust? The terms of inheritance are that money from the estate is tightly held, used only for the upkeep of the castle or for my personal welfare. There’s a twenty-year holding period before I can change that. Victoir says the Trust was put in place to prevent wild spending by past Castlavarans.

‘I have trouble understanding the complexities, but legal opinion says I can’t break it. It seems it’s best if I go home, forget about it for twenty years and then put a team of lawyers in place to try and sort the mess out.’ The ache in her head seemed to tighten. ‘Even that boggles me.’

‘I can imagine. But meanwhile you could try and help.’

‘Like how?’

‘Well, a steriliser for a start,’ Carla said, suddenly sounding hopeful. And a little bit cheeky? She lifted a spoon from the cup and saucer, left from Anna’s morning’s coffee. ‘This spoon, for instance. This is for your personal use and you’re fussy. You could order a steriliser right now, to be delivered as soon as possible. We can’t help it if you’re discharged before you get to use it, and you could graciously allow us to use it until you need it again.’

Anna’s lips twitched, and for the first time in what seemed weeks she found room to smile. In the enormity of what she’d been landed with, this seemed tiny, but the lovely thing about it was that it was something she could do right now.

Carla was looking hopeful, her head cocked to one side. Wondering if she was up to the challenge?

Maybe she was. Fun. The word was suddenly right before her. This was a baby step in how her life could continue from now on, but…could she have fun with this? Could she be of use?

‘You know,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘These sheets are scratchy. My welfare decrees I should order non-scratchy sheets, just in case I’m ever admitted again. Could you put in a requisition? Linen can’t be kept apart in the hospital laundry so maybe enough for the whole hospital?’

‘Yes!’ Carla said, chuckling with delight. ‘I knew you couldn’t be as bad as your cousin. And what about coffee? You surely can’t be expected to drink…’ But then she paused. She put a hand to her head in a gesture Anna understood. Her own head hurt.

But this was suddenly more than that. Carla’s pain seemed to intensify. Her eyes widened and she grabbed for the foot of the bed, as if to steady herself.

And swayed.

And Anna moved as she’d never moved before. She reached her and hugged her under her arms, taking her weight as she sagged against her.

As Carla’s eyes became sightless. As her knees buckled.

As she crumpled to the floor.

Leo was in the nursery, checking the tiny baby who’d been born the night before. It was a good moment in what promised to be a frantic day. He gazed down at the newborn bundle and thought, This is what it’s all about. Forget Anna. Forget the Castlavarans. Focus on what’s important.

And then his buzzer…

Code blue.

He was out the nursery before he realised.

Room Twelve. Anna’s room.

Code blue meant cardiac or respiratory arrest, or similar medical emergency.

Anna?

What had he missed? Internal bleed? What?

He didn’t run—he didn’t need to. He’d pretty much perfected his hospital stride, so running would make him no faster.

He turned the corner to Room Twelve and Maria was in front of him, pushing the crash cart.

‘Anna…’ he said, and he couldn’t keep the fear from his voice.

‘Worse,’ Maria managed. ‘It’s Carla.’

She’d hit the call button and then she’d yelled. The junior nurse who’d helped shower her had arrived in seconds, taken one look and bolted for help.

Carla vomited as she reached the floor. The first couple of moments were frantic, clearing Carla’s airway, getting her into the recovery position, trying to assess her breathing. Anna was crouched on the floor, willing help to arrive. Trying to see what she was coping with. Cardiac arrest? No? Headache, pain, collapse…

And then blessedly Leo was kneeling beside her. The crash cart was being wheeled in behind him.

‘Carla…’ Leo said, and she heard his voice break.

Carla’s eyes were open but she wasn’t seeing.

‘I don’t think it’s her heart.’ Anna said it intentionally loudly, making her voice clipped and professional. Leo and this woman must be friends. She’d heard Leo’s instinctive distress, but she needed a doctor here, not someone emotionally involved.

And he got it. She felt the moment he hauled himself together. The moment he became one of a medical team.

‘Fall?’

‘Collapse,’ she told him. She glanced up at Maria, and Maria anticipated her needs by handing down a towel. Two. She used one to sweep the mess away from Carla’s head, the other to help clear her face. ‘She looked like her head hurt. She put her hand to her head like there was intense pain and then she passed out.’

‘The headache… Hell…’ He had his hand on her wrist.

‘It’s still strong,’ Anna told him.

They were squashed together. Maria started working around them, shoving the bed back, heaving the bedside table onto the bed to give them more room.

‘Defibrillator?’ Maria asked.

‘No.’ Leo was moving to the next stage. He checked her eyes, and Anna saw the slight sag of his shoulders, relief that he’d seen a corneal reflex. He’d seen her clear Carla’s mouth. He’d seen the gag reflex as well.

She wasn’t comatose, then, but the speed of the drop from alert to where she was now implied she soon would be.

‘It’s okay, Carla, we’ve got you,’ Leo said, loudly and firmly. ‘Relax, love, don’t fight it.’

That made Anna blink. He was assuming Carla could hear. It was good medicine, the assumption, unlikely as it was, that Carla would comprehend what was going on. But not all doctors did it, especially under the stress of an emergency like this one.

‘We need to stabilise your airway and get a scan,’ Leo said. ‘Carla, have you had a head injury? Banged your head?’ She didn’t respond—how could she?—but once again Anna knew the words had been said to reassure Carla that she was included in this conversation. ‘Carla didn’t say anything about an injury, Anna? Maria?’

‘Nothing,’ Maria said, and Anna heard her distress, too.

‘Just a headache,’ Anna said. ‘Leo, this looks like an internal bleed.’

‘You must have had a bump.’ Leo was back to speaking to Carla. ‘You told me you took aspirin last night.’

‘She has been taking aspirin,’ Maria ventured. ‘She’s been getting it from the hospital pharmacy. I saw her take a couple of boxes last week. She said she has a bit of arthritis. We were busy and I didn’t follow it up.’

‘Aspirin won’t have done this, though it might have made it worse,’ Leo said. ‘But if there’s a bleed it won’t help now. Carla, we’re going to have to have a look-see. Get a trolley, Maria. We’ll take her through for scans. Now.’

‘What can I do?’ Anna asked.

‘You’re a patient,’ Leo said roughly. ‘Thanks for your help, Anna. You should be right to go.’

The scan showed a bleed.

A big one.

The hairline skull fracture was bad enough. What was worse was the dark shadow underneath the fracture. A subdural haemorrhage. Blood vessels near the surface of the brain had obviously ruptured.

How the hell…?

But the cause of the injury was the least of his concerns. What was crucial was time. Blood had collected immediately beneath the three-layer protective covering of the brain. The brain was being compressed.

In young people a bleed like this was usually triggered by a significant impact. Older people could bleed after only a minor trauma.

Carla was hardly elderly but she’d been taking aspirin. The aspirin would have been thinning the blood.

The greater the pressure on the brain, the worse the bleeding would become. For her to lose consciousness so quickly…

‘I’m going in.’ He was talking to Carla, and to the nurse beside him. Maria was looking as terrified as he felt. ‘Carla, there’s a bleed under the surface. We need to get the pressure off.’ He needed to say no more. If Carla was aware enough to take it in then she’d know, and Maria had been a nurse long enough to realise the ramifications of a cranial bleed. Pressure on the brain caused brain damage, and it caused it fast. They had to get the pressure off now.

‘Leo, I’m asking again. What can I do?’

The voice came from the doorway. Anna still looked very much the patient. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but the white dressing showed starkly against her burnt-red hair.

‘You need to leave, Anna.’ It was an instinctive response.

‘I’m a doctor, Leo,’ she snapped. ‘Get over yourself. Let me help.’

‘You’re injured.’

‘I have stitches from a bump on my head. I imagine Carla’s haemorrhaging. Am I right?’

‘You’re not well. I can’t—’

‘Do you have another doctor on staff? An anaesthetist?’

He needed headspace and she was messing with it. He opened his mouth to snap back but sense prevailed.

His instinctive reaction to Anna had been that of a doctor to a patient. The internal war, how he was feeling about Carla’s illness, physician versus friend, could allow no other distractions.

Anna’s question, though, had cut through.

There was no other doctor within hours of travel. Carla collapsing so dramatically meant that the bleed was sudden and severe. The pool of blood under the dura must be causing damage.

Carla usually assumed the role of anaesthetist if he needed to operate. What now?

‘There’s no other doctor,’ he admitted.

‘Evacuation?’

‘It’ll take hours.’

‘Then she needs emergency craniotomy and drainage,’ Anna said. Her curt, professional tone helped. ‘If there’s no one else… Leo, can you operate if I do the anaesthetic? I’ve done additional anaesthetic training. The village where I work isn’t big enough to support medical specialists and there’s occasional urgent need.’

She had anaesthetic training? It was like a gift from the heavens. A colleague with anaesthetic skills…

‘You have a head injury yourself.’

‘I have stitches and bruising. I may also still suffer a bit of dizziness if I stand up fast, but I think I’m over it and I can cover it. I know it’s not ideal but given the circumstances… Give me a stool in Theatre and let’s move.’

He gazed down at Carla and saw no response. No glimmer of recognition. He looked again at Anna and she met his gaze with a determination that was almost steely. Treat me as a doctor, her gaze said. Get over your prejudices.

She was still a patient. He could hardly ask.

There was no choice.

‘Thank you,’ he said simply. ‘If you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure. Let’s move.’

The surgery sounded simple. Anyone with a decent handyman’s drill should be able to do it—in fact, Leo had heard of doctors in emergency situations using just such an implement.

Luckily he didn’t have to resort to such measures. Most of their of equipment was second-hand but it was functional. Leo had kept up with a lot of doctors he’d met during training, and when they had been purchasing shiny new medical toys they often remembered him and sent on usable older things. The X-ray department had been set up almost completely via donations from a friend he’d met in final year med school. For the rest they’d scraped and saved and cajoled the community, which meant the theatre he was working in was fully equipped.

And he had excellent staff. Maria, his chief nurse, was rigid about standards and ongoing training, and she ruled her nursing staff with a softly gloved fist of iron.

The only hole in the team was his lack of a trained anaesthetist and that hole had been plugged. In Anna he had an anaesthetist he could trust. From the moment he’d nodded his acceptance of her offer she’d turned almost instantly from patient, from heir to the powers of Castlavara, from his past lover—into a crisp, competent professional.

‘Do you have access to Carla’s medical history? I need to know what she’s taken, allergies… Family? Is someone on their way?’

‘Her husband died ten years back,’ he told her. ‘Her son’s in Italy. But we have her history. Maria…’

‘Onto it,’ Maria said, and so was Anna. Ten minutes later they were in Theatre.

‘Glasgow scale deteriorating,’ Anna told him. ‘I’m losing any eye response.’

He didn’t need telling. He knew the pressure would be building.

He needed to focus.

A handyman might be able to operate a drill but what was needed here was precision, care, knowledge. And confidence.

Confidence that Anna could keep Carla alive while he worked.

And strangely the trust was there.

If another doctor had walked in right now, someone he didn’t know… If they’d offered to help… Yes, he’d have had to accept their help but there’d be caution. He’d be checking all the time. He’d be torn, though, because the procedure he was performing was out of his comfort zone. He needed to work fast with skills he hardly knew he had.

Anna helped. Somehow just knowing she was here helped.

Carla was in the supine position, facing up. As soon as Anna had the IV line in, as soon as she was sure Carla was under, Maria did a quick shave.

Then it was over to Leo. Two small holes to expose the dura, then careful, painstakingly draining. Hell! The scan had showed a build-up but it shook him to see just how much fluid was in there.

He inserted a temporary drain to prevent more build-up. He’d rather not have—it increased the chance of infection—but with this amount of fluid and with the speed of onset of symptoms, he had little choice.

Then closing.

It sounded straightforward. It seemed the hardest surgery he’d ever undertaken. Why? Because the huge unknown was how much damage had already been done. Had they been fast enough? Had the pressure already caused irreparable harm?

He fixed the drainage tube, dressed the wound and finally stood back from the table.

He’d done all he could do.

Carla was his friend and he felt ill.

What would have happened if Anna hadn’t been here? Would he have had to administer the anaesthetic himself? Have Maria do it?

Or wait for evacuation?

He was under no illusion as to what waiting would have meant. Even now, as Anna reversed the anaesthetic, he was aware that they might have been too late. Cerebral haemorrhage was the most frightening of medical emergencies.

‘We’ve done everything we can,’ he said wearily. ‘A neurosurgeon will need to take over. We’ve put in a call for evacuation but that’s still hours away. Meanwhile, we just have to hope.’

Anna had finished reversing the anaesthetic. She’d removed the intubation tube. Carla was breathing for herself again, but would she wake up? And if she did, what damage had been done?

‘You went in as fast as you could,’ she said, maybe sensing just how close to the edge he was. ‘She has the best chance you could possibly have given her.’

‘Partly thanks to you.’ Then, almost huskily, ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me.’

He nodded, dumbly, as the imperatives of surgery faded and the fear for his friend flooded back. What if the damage from pressure was irreversible? What if Carla didn’t open her eyes again, or, if she did, what life would she be facing?

Surely they’d moved fast enough.

With this level of bleeding, with the speed with which things had overtaken Carla, there was no way of knowing.

There was nothing more he could do but wait. The pain he was feeling was fathoms deep.

‘The Italian neurosurgeons will take over,’ he said roughly. ‘We don’t have the facilities to do more.’ While there’d been medical need, he’d been able to put distress aside, but now there was little to do for Carla but wait, that distress was impossible to hide. ‘I need to speak to her son. Our receptionist will have contacted him already and he may well be on his way. But enough. Anna, you need to go home.’

‘Leaving you alone.’

‘Bruno will be back later today. He’s one of our nurse-practitioners but his six-year-old fell out of a tree last week. Comminuted fracture of his femur. He needed specialist orthopaedic care.’

‘So he was evacuated, too?’

‘Yes, but Bruno should be back.’

‘But he’s not a doctor.’

‘He’s good. Anna, you need to leave. I’ll take over here.’

‘And leave you to worry about Glasgow scores on your own.’

‘You’re a patient, Anna,’ he said, reminding himself as well as her. ‘Your place isn’t here.’

He saw her wince, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had room for nothing but distress for his friend.

And she seemed to accept it. She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded.

‘Okay. But you will call me if Carla needs me. If you need me.’

‘I will.’ He hesitated. ‘But the castle won’t necessarily put my calls through.’

‘What the…? Of course they will.’

‘Try and see,’ he said wearily. ‘The outside world isn’t permitted to intrude on the castle and its occupants.’

‘That might have been then,’ she said briskly. ‘This is now. If there’s any problem, I have my own phone and it’s on international roaming. I’ll leave my number at the desk. Call me. Promise?’

And he looked at her, a long look where questions were being asked that he didn’t understand and maybe she couldn’t respond to.

‘I promise,’ he said at last. ‘Not that I think it’ll happen, but I promise. Thank you, Anna, but you need to remember you’ve been injured yourself. It’s time for you to leave.’

CHAPTER FOUR

TO SAY VICTOIR was annoyed was an understatement. He’d come to collect her in one of the castle’s limousines. He’d been left kicking his heels for hours.

When she finally joined him he was leaning on the beautiful auto, glowering, looking almost startlingly out of place. The entrance to the hospital was serviceable but that was all that could be said about it. It was a narrow driveway, crammed with people coming and going, mothers and babies, the elderly in wheelchairs or Zimmer frames, people visiting with bunches of flowers or bags of washing.

The ambulance that had transported Anna to hospital the day before had backed into the entrance parking bay, in front of the limo. The limo was practically taking up the entire bay. Paramedics were trying to manoeuvre an elderly lady on a stretcher around Victoir. Victoir, in his immaculate dark suit and crisp white linen, with his hair sleeked back, a man in his forties in charge of his world, wasn’t about to move for anyone, not even a patient on a stretcher.

The sight made Anna wince. Not for the first time she thought helplessly about the terms of the castle Trust. Yes, she’d inherited but she had no power. Once upon a time one of her ancestors had mistrusted his heir and made the entailment bulletproof. It would be twenty years before she had any control over funds. She owned it all and yet she didn’t own it.

Her cousin hadn’t survived his inheritance for the twenty years needed to break the Trust. Her uncle and her grandfather…clearly by the time their twenty years had been up they hadn’t bothered. After all, why should they? All their needs were being met.

Men like Victoir had no doubt been lining their own pockets, but to find out how, to explore the complexities of things she probably could do nothing about…

‘Leave it and come home,’ Martin had suggested. ‘A decent legal team can look after your interests from over here. If in twenty years you wish to do something more, you can think about options then.’

It made sense. She knew little about this place except that she now—sort of—owned it. And it was poverty-stricken. And Leo was here and he was struggling.

Victoir was opening the car door for her. ‘You should have asked the nurses to carry your gear. That’s what they’re here for.’

Really? It was a small holdall. To ask one of the overworked medical staff to abandon their work to carry it…

‘I can’t believe they let you just walk out with it,’ he continued. ‘If they think they can treat a Castlavaran like—’

‘They treated me well.’

‘They asked you to work! When you’re ill yourself?’

‘I’m not ill and I asked to work.’

‘They’ve even demanded to come to the castle. A final check, the nurse said. As if we can’t take care of you.’

An offer of a follow-up visit by a district nurse was entirely reasonable, Anna thought. She’d have organised the same for a patient of hers. She didn’t need it, though. She was okay.

Except that she was angry.

Usually she was unflappable. She prided herself on her calm in the face of crises.

She didn’t feel calm now.

Get a grip, she told herself. Think of the whole situation.

Until now she’d floundered, bowing to Victoir’s assumed authority. What choice had she had? But his authority was starting to grate and grate badly. Surely she paid this man’s wages?

She didn’t know how much. By the look of his clothing and the gold rings on his flaccid fingers, a lot. She’d spent her short time here trying to come to terms with the vastness of her inheritance. Should she stay a few more days and check staff ledgers? She could do that as she lay on her day bed while the staff in question catered to her every whim, she thought, and then she grimaced. The only appealing part of that right now was the day bed.

‘You need to remember you’ve been injured yourself.’

That was what Leo had said and there had been gentleness in his tone.

Of course there had. She was his patient. His gentleness meant nothing.

She’d been judged ten years ago and he’d walked away. How much deeper would that judgement be now that she’d inherited?

‘Can you get that ambulance out of the way?’ Victoir called, power loading every word. And to Anna’s disgust, the paramedic left the old lady’s trolley where it was, and went to move the ambulance.

‘You’ll look after your patient first,’ she called, and Victoir’s authority was nothing compared to the power she put behind her words. Wow. Where had that come from? Was it the doctor in Anna, or was it the first stirrings of the long line of autocratic Castlavarans in her genetics? Regardless, her words held the weight of ancestry, plus a huge loading of a doctor accustomed to sorting chaos in the midst of medical emergency. It forced all those around her to go still.

The paramedic, the woman about to climb back into the driver’s seat, looked at her with doubt. Anna might sound authoritative but she surely couldn’t look it. Jeans, T-shirt, bandaged head. What remained of her copper curls tumbling every which way. No make-up. Compared to Victoir she looked a nothing.

But this was a test she needed to pass. Victoir was looking at her as if she’d passed the boundaries of what was permitted. Up until now he’d set the guidelines. He’d made it easy for her to follow his lead, impossible for her to do anything else.

Impossible had to start somewhere. Victoir was invoking the family name? So could she.

‘I’m Anna Castlavara and we wait until the needs of patients have been met,’ she said. ‘Your patient’s care takes precedence over my needs.’

‘We’ve waited long enough,’ Victoir snapped. ‘These people—’

‘These people are Tovahnans, just like me,’ she said. ‘What’s best for them is best for me. And what I say goes.’

And she seated herself—firmly—in the rear of the limousine and prepared to wait.

But what she hoped Victoir didn’t see was that she sat not because she needed to but because her knees were shaking.

What was she letting herself in for?

And then she glanced out of the window of the car and there was Leo. He was striding out to check on the new patient being admitted.

He’d paused like everyone else.

He’d heard.

So what? She turned away, putting her hands to her cheeks to try and subdue the slow burn spreading across her cheeks. Her knees were still trembling.

She needed that day bed.

She needed space.

She needed to get home to England.

The evacuation team was delayed and delayed again. It happened. Neighbouring countries assisted as they could, but their own emergencies took precedence over Tovahna’s. Finally, though, and before evacuation took place, Carla regained consciousness.

It was six at night. She’d been unconscious for almost ten hours. She was confused, her speech was a little blurred and she wasn’t sure what was happening or why, but she recognised Leo. She recognised Maria. Her vision seemed only slightly impaired. Her fingers and toes worked, albeit with a struggle.

‘What…what…? Tell me what’s happened.’

The spectre of unimaginable brain damage faded. It was so much more than Leo had dared hope that it was all he could do to hold back tears.

Maria couldn’t. She sobbed, openly. ‘Oh, Carla, we’ve been so frightened. You nearly died. And the Castlavaran, Anna, had to help save you.’

‘The Castlavaran…’ Carla managed. ‘What…? Tell me…’

So Leo sat beside her and held her hand and told her. He wasn’t sure if she took it all in. You didn’t suffer a bleed on the brain without some repercussions, he thought, but her state of awareness now was a huge promise of a short rehabilitation and total recovery.

‘Do you remember banging your head?’ he asked, and she looked blank.

‘The Castlavaran, Anna, banged her head.’

She was remembering. Better and better.

‘She did.’

‘And you’re dating her.’

Hell. ‘I’m not.’

‘I remember—’

‘Carla…’

‘That would be so wonderful.’

And there was no response to that. Carla’s eyes were closing. With the amount of drugs on board, the battering her brain had taken, her body was demanding sleep.

But it was sleep, not lack of consciousness. What a gift.

‘Thanks to Anna,’ Maria whispered. ‘We need to let her know.’

‘I’ll see to it,’ he said, and he left Maria watching Carla like a mother hen with her favourite chick.

We need to let her know…

He had Anna’s number. He should simply ask the receptionist to ring a message through.

But before he could do anything he was hailed from down the corridor by two young men. One was Ben, Carla’s son, who he guessed had hitched a ride in with the evacuation team from Italy. The other was Bruno, the nurse-practitioner. The evacuation team was behind them, signing in at Reception.

He hadn’t realised how tired he was until he saw them. An almost-doctor to share his load. A son to take over his love for Carla and to accompany her on evacuation. Trained paramedics to take Carla to a world-class neurologist.

‘You look like a car crash.’ Bruno’s voice was filled with concern. ‘I came as soon as I could. And here’s Ben to be with his mother. Tell us the worst, Leo.’

But it wasn’t the worst. He felt himself growing even lighter.

‘There’s every reason to think she’ll make a full recovery,’ he told them. ‘She’ll need full neurological assessment but now…the real concern is how she came to have the bleed in the first place.’

‘I can tell you that,’ Ben said grimly. ‘When I rang her last night she said she’d had a headache, then hit her head on the open bathroom cabinet and made it worse. She was making light of it but I could tell she was rattled.’

‘But she still came to work this morning.’ Hell. They were so short-staffed. Carla would have come to work with more than a sore head.

He might have done the same.

‘I’ll be having words with her,’ Ben growled. ‘I know she’s popping aspirin for her arthritis. Once she’s evacuated to Italy I’ll insist on some enforced R&R, and have her visit an arthritis specialist while she’s there.’ He coloured. ‘I have the money to afford it.’

‘There’s no need to sound apologetic,’ Bruno said. ‘I just took my son to Italy to have a complex fracture seen to. We each look after our own as best we can.’ He glanced up at Leo. ‘I hear we even treat Castlavarans.’

‘She’s not that bad,’ Leo said grudgingly. ‘You know she’s a doctor? She gave the anaesthetic while I operated on Carla.’

‘She did what?’ To say they were both astounded was an understatement.

‘She did all she could.’ He told them briefly what had happened. ‘She’s a talented doctor.’

‘Well, pigs might fly,’ Bruno said, and whistled. ‘All this while she had her own sore head.’

‘I need to thank her,’ Ben said. ‘She’s still here?’

‘She’s back in the castle.’

‘Well, that’s that, then,’ Bruno concluded. ‘The castle walls have been broached and sealed again.’

‘We don’t know that,’ Leo told him.

‘Really? Does she intend to help anyone else in this country? Like repair the roof on this dump?’

‘You know the Trust stops her.’

‘Then I’m not interested,’ Bruno said. ‘It was good of her to help Carla but it’s over to us again. Tell Ben where his mother is. Give me a handover, sign off with the evac team and then go home for a sleep.’

Sleep. The word was like a siren song, infinitely enticing.

But he did need to ring Anna. She deserved to know how Carla was.

‘Go on,’ Bruno growled. ‘Out of my hospital. Now.’

‘Your hospital?’

‘Okay, it’s the Castlavarans’,’ Bruno admitted. ‘But there’s nothing we can do about that. We just have to make do with the scraps they leave us.’

He wasn’t wanted.

Well, he was. There was work for him to do, but Bruno was having none of it. ‘You’re no use to us dead on your feet. You know if there’s a need I’ll call you back.’

Bruno was right. He did need to sleep, but how could he head home and sleep after a day like today? He felt wired. Disoriented.

Seeing Anna had done that to him.

He’d promised to let her know.

He went to collect her phone number from Reception but then hesitated.

Anna was less than half a mile away, within the walls of the great castle that dominated the whole island.

She was with Victoir and his precious, urgent documents. Heaven knew what he’d have her sign. Would she even think about what consequences her signature could have over so much of the island?

He glanced out toward the castle walls, vast and imposing. Victoir wanted to turn the castle into apartments for the wealthy, but everyone knew the terms of Anna’s inheritance. Funds could only be used for her welfare or the upkeep of the castle. Luxury apartments… How could Victoir get away with that under the terms of the Trust? But if he could… Would Anna realise how much it would hurt the islanders?

Despite its generations of miserly owners, the castle still seemed the beating heart of Tovahna. For hundreds of years Tovahnans had lived within the shadow of its walls. Their forebears—Leo’s forebears—had fought for it.

He’d seen Victoir’s plans. What they proposed was tearing down sections of the wall to insert massive plate-glass windows, so those lucky enough to afford to stay here could see the islanders going about their business. Victoir knew his market. He wanted the world’s rich and famous to use this as a retreat, and quaint island life—at a distance—was a marketing tool.

Did Anna know that poverty was one thing, rubbing the islanders’ noses in the riches of others was another?

He thought of Victoir’s face as Leo had agreed with Anna’s assertion that she was unfit to sign. He’d have the documents out again already, he thought. She might have already signed.

She was his patient. More, she was his colleague and she’d helped save his friend. He needed to see her.

‘It’s the least I can do,’ he muttered to himself.

And then he turned toward the castle.

He took the sea walk to the castle entrance. The walk itself did him good. It was early evening and the harbour was alive with fishing boats unloading, families coming down to help sort the catch, kids playing between lobster pots, cheerful banter between rival fishermen.

It was an idyllic setting. It disguised the grinding poverty underneath.

The idyll paled as he reached the castle walls. The massive stone fortress cast long shadows, and by the time he reached the vast oak and iron gates he felt cold.

Apartments. According to the Trust they’d have to be for Anna’s private pleasure. She was a doctor and a good one. He’d seen her immediate concern for Carla. How could Victoir’s grandiose plan ever give her pleasure?

And with that came another thought, maybe just as crazy. If medicine itself gave her pleasure then…then…

Don’t, he told himself. You’re here to protect her, make sure she’s healing. Don’t think past that.

First, face Victoir.

Islanders worked here—of course they did. They used the tradesmen’s entrance, though, but tonight Leo was damned if he’d use the tradesmen’s entrance.

He rang the bell and heard its sonorous tone echo behind the great stone walls. Few people rang this bell, he thought. Few people were welcome.

As he’d suspected, it was Victoir who answered the intercom. Victoir who controlled all intercourse between the castle and the world beyond. He’d been Yanni’s private secretary, but under Yanni’s indolent, indifferent rule his role had gone well past that.

‘Dr Aretino…’ Leo glanced up and saw cameras above his head. Of course. The castle’s massive moat was no longer used for defence, but defences were still there.

‘Victoir,’ he said, struggling to keep irritation from his voice. ‘I’m here to see Dr Raymond.’

‘She’s resting.’ His tone was curt, dismissive.

‘That’s why I’m here. She suffered concussion. She needs to be checked. I gather you refused the offer of our district nurse when you left the hospital. She needs at least one more check within the forty-eight-hour period after injury.

‘I can do that.’

The thought of Victoir checking made his skin crawl. It was all he could do to keep his voice even.

‘You’ll tell Dr Raymond I’m here to assess her medically and to give her an update on Dr Carla’s condition,’ he managed. ‘I need to hear from her personally.’

‘You’re not welcome.’

He should turn around and leave.

He didn’t.

‘You have my patient in there,’ he said, each word ringing loudly in the warm dusk. ‘I’m concerned about her head injury. I need to be assured that she’s well.’

‘You can take my word for it.’

‘That’s not enough. Unless you can produce a medical power of authority, I need to either speak to Dr Raymond myself or I’ll ask the local justice to demand access. You know I can do that, Victoir.’

The island justice would like nothing better than an excuse to demand entry to the castle and Victoir knew it. Leo heard the hesitation, the doubt, the weighing up of options.

Having the local authorities demanding entry would not suit Victoir’s sense of control.

‘She’s asleep,’ he said, and he sounded almost sulky.

‘Do you know how to differentiate between deep sleep and unconsciousness?’

Another pause. And then a heavy click and the vast gates started opening.

‘A quick check and you’re out of here,’ Victoir growled, but Leo didn’t bother to answer.

She wasn’t asleep. She’d tried hard enough. Home from the hospital, she’d felt weariness envelop her like a dead weight. It was reaction, she’d thought. She’d headed for bed in her over-the-top bedroom but she hadn’t slept.

Victoir had opened the door and checked on her—twice—and that had freaked her out. The man gave her the creeps. She wanted to shove a chair against the door to make her secure but that’d show him he made her nervous. For some reason she didn’t want him to see that.

She was wearing her yoga gear rather than her pyjamas because that made her feel safer—but not much. She’d feigned sleep and he’d gone away.

This whole place was weird, this over-the-top castle, its living quarters a monument to excess, the rest a derelict shambles. Given other circumstances the gothic setting could have entranced her, but now, alone, her head aching, what was on the other side of her bedroom door made her shudder.

She’d thought fleetingly of ringing Martin or Jennifer. If she said she was in trouble she knew they’d be on the next plane. They were good friends and they were sensible. They’d pick her up and bundle her home.

That was what she wanted right now, her friends, her dog, her own bed in her own small cottage. And yet… Somehow the events of the last twenty-four hours had made her feel that leaving was cowardly.

But right now cowardly seemed a good way to describe her. This room seemed almost designed to make her feel insignificant, with its massive size, its vast crimson and gold wall hangings, its casement windows looking almost all the way to Italy.

There was a knock at the door and she clenched her teeth so hard she thought she might break them. At least this time he’d had the decency to knock.

‘Yes?’

‘Anna.’

It wasn’t Victoir. Leo.

Surely she shouldn’t feel relief, but she did. The tension evaporated in such a rush that she couldn’t respond. She lay absolutely still.

‘Anna?’ She must be lying too still, too rigid. There was deep concern in his voice.

Leo…concerned for her…

It made her feel like her world was settling.

She was being dumb, she thought. It was this castle that was unnerving her, this creepy gothic setting, these vast, opulent living areas, this huge bedchamber.

But Leo was here. ‘Come in,’ she called, and finally she allowed herself to open her eyes and look.

Leo.

Not professional Leo either. He’d ditched the white coat. He was wearing faded jeans and a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows and the top buttons undone. His hair was tousled, as if he’d been walking in the wind.

Once upon a time she’d thought…she’d dreamed…

No.

‘Hey,’ she said, and summoned a smile—and saw relief wash his face.

He’d been worried. Despite her confusion the thought was comforting.

‘You’re okay?’ he asked, the crease deepening between his eyes. Oh, those eyes…

‘Nothing a good sleep won’t fix.’ She gazed up at him and saw her own weariness reflected. ‘Same for you, I bet. What are you doing here?’

‘Checking up on you. Victoir knocked back the offer of a district nurse.’

‘I don’t need the district nurse.’ She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. ‘How can I need anything in this room?’

‘I guess you don’t,’ he admitted. He gazed around the bedroom. ‘Great setting.’

‘It’s ridiculous,’ she muttered, and decided she needed to be a bit assertive. She needed to sound as if she was in charge of her world again.

‘Really ridiculous,’ she emphasised. ‘Not just one but two—two!—chandeliers. For a bedroom. Ten guest chairs. Two settees and a window seat big enough to seat me, my dogs and a small army of minions—if I wanted minions, which, believe me, I don’t. And this carpet… Who chooses crimson and purple carpet with dragons woven into it? And it’s not even the main bedroom—I gather this was one of Yanni’s guest rooms. Urk.’

‘I guess you could learn to like it,’ he said neutrally, but there was a faint smile behind his eyes. He agreed with her, then. ‘Anna, now I’m here… Headache? Pain level? One to ten, you know the score.’

‘Two,’ she admitted. ‘Nothing an aspirin won’t fix.’

‘Let’s try paracetamol instead,’ he told her. ‘I gather aspirin is what was behind Carla’s bleed. She’s been taking it for arthritis and then bumped her head. On the medicine cabinet, her son says.’

‘Ouch.’ They both knew aspirin could make a small bleed worse. ‘But now…’ She couldn’t keep anxiety from her voice.

‘She’s awake and alert. She’s a bit confused but she knows people, events, and there’s no noticeable physical damage. Her son’s with her. She’s on her way to a full neurological assessment in Italy but she may well be in the clear.’

‘Oh, Leo, that’s wonderful.’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ he said, and smiled and pulled up one of her overstuffed visitor chairs to sit beside her.

Which was discombobulating all on its own.

Leo. Beside her.

Get over it.

‘Where’s Victoir?’ she managed.

‘Do you care?’

‘He’s my…’ She hesitated. ‘Actually, I don’t know what he is. The boss of me? That’s what he’d like to think. I’m a bit over Victoir.’

‘Good for you. Are you going to sign the release so he can build his apartments?’

She stilled.

She hadn’t gone completely to bed. She’d put her head on the mound of glorious pillows and tucked the great crimson coverlet over her. Her yoga gear was pink and purple and covered her nicely.

She wanted more.

She wanted to be in crisp, professional work clothes. She didn’t want to be in a room lit by chandeliers and carpeted with dragons. Most of all, she wanted some sort of protection against this crazy situation, where on one hand she’d inherited power and on the other hand she had no power at all.

‘What’s that got to do with you?’ she asked, and then thought, I sound petty. He must have thought so, too, as his face hardened.

‘Everything. You turn this castle into apartments, you rip the heart out of my people.’

‘Why does that sound like the overstatement of the year?’

‘I’m not exaggerating. The castle takes up almost a quarter of the island. Your grandfather, your uncle and your cousin were appalling rulers but the islanders have accustomed themselves to this life for generations. The people should have risen up long ago but they haven’t. They won’t. And now… Turn the castle into a glorified gated community where the super-rich can fly in and fly out… Maybe there will be an uprising. I almost hope so, but it’ll take years, and meanwhile there’s nothing here. There’s no hope for the kids. This island needs help, Anna, and right now the only help available is from you.’

‘So how could I possibly help?’

‘By not being a Castlavaran.’

‘Don’t you get that I’m not?’ Enough. She shoved the coverlet back, folded her arms across her chest and glared.

His reaction wasn’t quite what she’d hoped. He looked totally distracted. ‘Great outfit,’ he said faintly, and the smile returned to his eyes.

‘I like pink.’ She folded her arms across her chest and glowered. ‘And purple.’

‘Why wouldn’t you? It’s amazing.’

‘Leo, the last thing I want is compliments,’ she snapped, and stood up.

Or tried to. The effects of the last twenty-four hours were still with her. She swayed.

Leo rose and caught her as she staggered. He lowered her gently so she was sitting on the side of the bed.

She should be thankful.

She wasn’t.

‘I just stood up too fast,’ she muttered.

‘I know. Anger makes us do all sorts of unwise things.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ She had herself together again—a bit. Oh, she wished she wasn’t wearing pink and purple. More than that, she wished she was somewhere neutral, not in this ridiculous bedroom, and not feeling so defenceless. And, yes, angry.

‘Don’t mouth platitudes at me, Leo Aretino,’ she managed, anger growing. ‘For ten years you assumed I knew what you were talking about. That I was part of this system. You assumed my cousin’s, my uncle’s, my grandfather’s greed was not only known to me but that their actions were somehow partly my fault. It’s not my fault, Leo. So now… I’m not a Castlavaran but I’m stuck.

‘The terms of this inheritance are unequivocal. The money’s to be used for the castle’s upkeep. For my upkeep. Victoir’s plan is that he build the apartments, and nominally I holiday in one. The rest are for my so-called friends to join me. We can defend it by saying it’s “for my pleasure”. It’s a way we can close off the unsafe sections and keep the rest of the place functional, even economically viable, while I get on with my life. How else can I stop the whole place from falling down? The way Victoir presents it, I don’t see that I have much choice.’

‘You can look at options.’

‘As if I’d know what they are. So if you have any, tell me, Leo, and stop treating me as the enemy.’

‘I never—’

‘You did,’ she managed. She was so mad she was trembling. Was that still the residue from the bump on the head? Or residue from being dumped ten years ago. Who knew? Not her. ‘From the moment my mother told you her maiden name, you’ve treated me like some form of alien, more, one capable of contaminating anyone who came near. So now… I accept this is your country and your concern. You don’t like Victoir’s option? Give me another.’

Her anger was almost a tangible thing. There was so much past history here, betrayal, hurt—and a love that had once consumed her.

Get over it, she told herself. Listen.

Without prejudice.

‘There is a way,’ Leo said, his calm voice trying to break through her obvious fury. ‘Anna, can you listen? I’m not sure, but there might be.’

What was he about to say? Break the Trust? Martin had said it was inviolable.

‘Like what?’ Her anger was still obvious but she couldn’t help it.

‘Using Victoir’s idea,’ he said, and she blinked.

‘The apartments.’

‘No.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, and took a couple of breaths. Calm or not, he sounded as if was holding himself in rigid control. Maybe the tension she was feeling between them wasn’t one-sided?

If so, good, she thought, and then had the grace to feel ashamed. Yes, he’d dumped her but she’d gone on to have a pretty good life. Maybe her anger was out of proportion. But still, he’d hurt her. She wanted him to acknowledge that.

But he was now intent on his plan. Focussed. For him the past was obviously well behind him.

‘Anna, maybe it’s a pipe dream,’ he told her. ‘It came to me on the way here, from something Carla said and from Victoir’s plans. But it’d take someone with a massive social conscience.’

‘And how can a Castlavaran have a social conscience?’ It was an angry mutter.

‘You’ve said you’re not a Castlavaran.’

‘You don’t believe that—or is your memory still selective?’ She glowered and then decided to be honest. To lay it all out there.

‘Leo, from the moment you told me you couldn’t marry me, you acted like you could hardly remember that my name is Raymond. I remember, though, and it still hurts. I know it’s stupid, but there it is. I even talked to our clinic’s psychologist about it. How needful was that? She says it’s tied up with my father walking away, my mother rejecting me over and over—and then you doing the same thing. She says I need to focus forward, not backward. So now… You judging me on my mother’s name looks backward to me. Leo, you’ve checked I’m not dying. I assume you’ve routed Victoir because he’s not here with his horrid documents. So what’s left? You can trust me with your pipe dream or you can leave. Take your pick.’

‘Anna—’

‘Just do it, Leo.’

He closed his eyes and she could see him almost visibly brace himself.

When he opened them again he’d changed. His look was one of pure challenge.

‘As you like,’ he said formally, as if what he was about to say was business and nothing more. What had been between them in the past was—of course—once again to be forgotten. He sat again so he could talk to her at eye level.

Doctor to patient? Not so much.

‘So here it is,’ he said. ‘I believe it’s possible. Within the terms of the Trust you have a chance to do something spectacular.’

‘What?’ She wasn’t bemused. She was still just plain angry.

‘You could turn part of this castle into a hospital. You could provide a base for us to expand and the facilities for us to give first-class treatment. You could be the first Castlavaran who cares. You could prove me—and all of this island—wrong.’

CHAPTER FIVE

TO SAY SHE was hornswoggled was an understatement.

‘A hospital.’ She managed to say it but it was a word, not a concept.

‘I know,’ he said, gently now, as if he still thought she was ill. ‘It’s a crazy idea. I guess you’re either a Castlavaran, in which case you’ve had greed and indolence bred into you, or you’re an English doctor who wants nothing to do with your inheritance because it’s twenty years until you can claim it. Either way, Tovahna is the loser. I’m sorry, Anna. I didn’t mean to throw this at you tonight. But I just said…’

‘Yeah,’ she said, dazed. ‘You just said…’

‘It’s something you could think about when you go back to England,’ he said. Could she hear a sliver of hope?

‘But…’ She shook her head and winced. ‘First of all you’re still being insulting. I’m either greedy or I don’t care. And if I’m neither of those then I’ll fall on what has to be a preposterous plan. Turn a castle into a hospital?’ Oh, her head hurt.

These weeks since she’d heard of this incredible inheritance hadn’t been wasted. She’d learned more of Tovahna than she’d believed possible. She knew the poverty that had kept the people in their places for a thousand years. But Martin and his colleagues had also checked the terms of her inheritance. They’d found it rigidly structured so the heir couldn’t make changes.

Money was to be spent for the maintenance of the castle or the welfare of the incumbent. For nothing else.

Incumbent. That was her.

In twenty years maybe she could hand the vast wealth over to some central agency, gift people their own land, do some good. But not before that. Martin had spelled it out.

‘The Trust’s in the hands of a firm of conservative lawyers in Milan. It’ll provide you with a sweet income but there’s nothing more to be done for years. Stay home and wait.’

‘How…?’ she said now, in a small voice because speaking of such a thing seemed so immense, so impossible that even saying it aloud was ludicrous. ‘How could I turn the castle into a hospital? How could I possibly fit that around the terms of the Trust?’

And it seemed Leo had an answer.

‘The same way Victoir’s proposing converting the place into apartments,’ he told her. ‘The way he’s proposing getting around the Trust is that you’d nominally have one set aside for your personal use, and the others would be deemed as being built for your guests. Your guests would pay a hefty price for the privilege but that wouldn’t matter. They’d be here for your pleasure. So a hospital…’

‘You’re saying I could use a hospital? Have the hospital for my own personal use? I’d need to bump my head once a day. More.’

He didn’t smile. The intent look didn’t fade.

‘That wouldn’t work. There’s no way that’d fit the terms of the Trust. What could work…’ Once again, a deep breath, as if what he was about to say was so huge he could scarcely believe he was saying it. And when he finally said it, she could understand why.

‘The only way it could work was if this hospital itself was your life,’ he said. ‘You’d need to live here—really live here—and the hospital would need to be as important to you as the over-the-top sports cars your cousin used to collect. They’re gathering dust in the massive garages he had built for them. He could hardly use them because the roads here are so bad. With a little gumption he could have had the roads repaired so he could use them—that would have helped the islanders and been within the terms of the Trust—but that would have taken sense he didn’t have. But, Anna, if your passion, your life was a medical centre, to serve not only you but this whole island, then the lawyers in Milan must surely agree. But you would need to live here. Make Tovahna your home. Be the first Castlavaran in generations to make a difference to your people.’

‘My people.’

‘They are your people.’

‘I’m not a Castlavaran.’ How many times did she have to say it?

‘Don’t quibble, Anna,’ he said roughly, and she thought she detected emotion underlying the tone. How? Because she knew this man. She knew him so well…

Yet she didn’t know him at all. He was a stranger, and he was suggesting the preposterous.

What was he asking? He wanted her to stay here, by herself, with the beastly Victoir. He wanted her to forget everything that had happened between the pair of them. He wanted…the impossible.

‘I want to go home.’ It was a childish thing to say but it was what came out when she opened her mouth. And Leo looked at her as if it was what he’d expected all along.

‘Of course you do. Run back to England with your inheritance and forget about us. Well, at least I’ve tried.’

‘You call that trying?’ The words were out before she could stop them as anger surged, a swift and unexpected response to his look of disgust.

‘What do you mean?’ His voice was cold and that made her angrier.

Her legs were dangling over the edge of the stupid over-the-top bed. Her feet were bare. Despite her pink and purple, she felt exposed. Vulnerable.

And still angry.

‘I mean I’ve just been hit on the head,’ she managed. ‘I’m still tired and headachy. I’m also coming to terms with an inheritance that’s made me feel like I’ve been hit by a sledgehammer. A golden sledgehammer, agreed, but a sledgehammer regardless. Add to that I’m confronted by an ex-fiancé who hurt me. I’m stuck in a thousand-year-old castle that feels like the set of a gothic movie. Plus I have a creepy administrator who comes in here with his indecipherable documents and who takes me underground without a hard hat and almost kills me, just to prove it’s dangerous so I’ll sign his documents fast. Yeah, I get that, I’m not stupid. And he doesn’t even knock when he comes into my bedroom. So now you say I should turn the castle into a hospital and I say I want to go home and you act like what else could be expected of a rich, indolent, money-grubbing Castlavaran? Well, I’m not even a Castlavaran and, Leo Aretino, you can take your castle and your hospital and you can stick it!’

And she picked up one of her massive down-filled pillows and hurled it at him.

It hit him on the chest and slid harmlessly to his knees.

He placed it aside as if it was nothing and she glared and wanted the floor to open and swallow her.

Or Leo.

He was in her bedroom. In her chair.

He was far, far too close.

‘Get out,’ she said.

‘I may just have put my case badly.’

‘I don’t care. Get out.’

The door opened.

Victoir.

‘Get out,’ she said again, only this time it was said in unison—with Leo—and it was the break they needed. Or she needed.

Nothing like a common enemy.

‘I just…’ Victoir started, and she decided it was about time she stopped being Victoir’s doormat. Wasn’t he her employee? Whatever, at least she could direct some of her pent-up frustration at him.

‘You didn’t knock. Basic rules, Victoir. Please leave.’

‘If the doctor’s finished…’

‘He hasn’t finished. He’s explaining something to me that I wish to have explained. He’ll see himself out when he’s done. Please close the door behind you, and if you walk into my bedroom again without knocking I’ll ask the lawyers in Milan to have you removed by yesterday.’

He stared at her and she faced him down.

He left. Fast.

‘Wow,’ Leo said, as Victoir disappeared and the heavy door was tugged closed. ‘Well done. Hey, you really are a Castlavaran.’

‘Don’t. You’ll get me started again.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He sighed. ‘But you’re right. You have far too much on your plate for me to be loading you with more.’

‘Is that all you’re sorry for?’

‘You must know it’s not,’ he said gently. ‘Anna, I’ve been sorry for a very long time.’

And that pretty much silenced her.

The silence stretched on. She was looking at him, seeing strain. She was waiting, but she didn’t know what she was waiting for. What she was hoping?

‘I’m sorry for not explaining,’ he said at last.

‘Explaining your hospital scheme? There’s still time.’

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘For not explaining ten years ago. For being nineteen and being hopelessly in love and then being dumbstruck by learning who your mother was. For not being able to explain it to you then. For being young and stupid and even cruel. For not being able to control my own hurt to ease yours. I still believe that I had no choice, but most of all, Anna, I’m deeply, deeply sorry that I had to walk away.’

The words left her winded.

After all these years…to have him finally say it.

She felt like a long-faded scar had suddenly split, to reveal there was still infection deep within.

Her psychologist had given her strategies for not looking back. Where was her psychologist now, when she was most needed? Strategies… She couldn’t think of a single one.

‘You didn’t want…’ she started, but he shook his head.

‘Anna, you have no idea how much I wanted.’

‘How can I know that? One minute we were planning marriage and then nothing.’

‘I should have asked before. About your mother.’

‘My mother was nothing to do with our relationship. She had very little to do with me. I told you she was a wild child. I told you there was man after man after man. What else was there to say?’

‘That she was a Castlavaran?’

‘As far as I was concerned, she was Katrina Raymond. She’d married my father, even if the marriage ended before I was born. I told you she’d been unhappy at home and her mother had died. I told you everything I knew.’

The only time she’d learned more had been the night she’d introduced Katrina to Leo.

She hadn’t seen her mother for almost a year. Katrina had been in the States, but had breezed back to London and decided to drop in on her daughter.

‘My head-in-her-books daughter has a man? Well, well, let’s meet him.’

She’d been reluctant. To say she and her mother were dysfunctional would have been an understatement.

Anna had always been cared for—sort of. Katrina had access to money. ‘It’s family money, sweetheart—money’s the only thing they’re good for.’ There’d been funds for an apartment with nannies, while Katrina had been off doing what she wanted. There’d been money to support Anna to study. There’d been no mother love.

Neither had there been any sense of history. Katrina wouldn’t talk of home. ‘There’s some sort of Trust set up so my father has to support me,’ she’d told her. ‘That’s all you need to know. He’s an appalling man, Anna. Don’t ask.’

So she hadn’t asked, and the only part of Tovahna she knew was the language, taught to her in the times Katrina returned to the apartment to get over her latest love affair or to escape from whatever disaster she was in.

Anna had tried to warn him. ‘She’s unstable, Leo. She’ll talk too fast. She’ll come across as sophisticated and brittle but underneath…’

Underneath there were scars that Anna could only guess at. And then that night at dinner, the scars were exposed for all to see.

Maybe it was Leo’s gentleness. His kindness. His perception? Even at nineteen he knew how to empathise, and Katrina was captivated.

He spoke to Katrina in Tovahnan and maybe that had been the undermining of Katrina’s defences.

‘So tell me about your father?’ he asked Katrina at last, when the pizza had been replaced by coffee. ‘My father died early, but my mother still lives on Strada Del Porto on the island’s east side. Is that anywhere near where your father lives?’

What followed was a loaded silence, and Anna looked at her mother in astonishment and thought, Is she about to crack? She’d hardly talked of her father, even to her. But then…

‘As far as I know, my father still lives in that great gothic castle he loves so much,’ she said, in a voice that was almost a whisper. ‘It’s the only thing he loves. He sits there and pretends to be a king and he’s cared for nothing and for no one. Not my mother, and not me. And my brother’s just like him. They can rot in their castle for all I care.’

And Leo stared at her in blank astonishment. ‘You’re a Castlavaran…’

‘Don’t say that name.’

‘But he’s your—’

‘Enough.’ Katrina pushed back her chair and walked out of the restaurant.

And that was that. One ring returned. One love affair over.

‘I was so immature,’ Leo said now, and it was so much what she thought that she blinked.

‘Well. Good of you to admit it.’

‘I should have explained.’

‘So should my mother. I’m putting her in the same category. Let’s keep Anna in ignorance and let her face the consequences without warning, without respect, without any acceptance of the fact that I had a right to know.’

‘Anna…’

‘My grandfather and my uncle and then my cousin were all self-serving creeps. I know that now. My mother was a brittle, damaged alcoholic. I know that, too. And you added that up and decided I must be more of the same and you’d cut me out of your life before I could contaminate you.’

‘It was much, much more than that.’

‘How would I know? Neither of you had the courtesy to explain.’

‘I thought your mother—’

‘I’d already said she’d told me nothing. She died four years ago, still having told me nothing.’

Unbidden, the hurt of so many years was spilling out, fury at her mother mixed with fury at Leo. But it was crazy, dumb, useless. It was adolescent anger, hurt from a time she should have put behind her.

She understood now, or she thought she did. After that night she’d done her own investigation into her mother’s family and she even understood why Leo had walked away. Sort of.

‘If I’d stayed with you I could never have come home again,’ he said. ‘I knew that.’

‘And coming home was everything.’

‘It was.’ He hesitated. ‘Hell, Anna, I should have spelled it out. I know that. But this country…you’re getting a sense now of how impoverished we are. To send me to London to do medicine…it was a huge deal for the islanders. My father was dead and my mother had no means of support. I should have gone fishing when I was twelve, but my teachers told the town how smart I was. To be honest, most smart kids leave the island as soon as they can but I couldn’t walk away from my mother for ever, and the islanders knew it. So when I said I wanted to be a doctor, somehow they managed it. I still don’t know how. Because of the draconian rule of your family, every cent had to be accounted for.’

‘But they never have been my family,’ she managed, and he held up his hands, the same way he’d held them up ten years ago. Warding her off.

‘Anna, I’ve said I’m sorry. I’m also sorry for being too immature to explain properly, for walking away so fast. But to be honest, maybe it was for the best, getting it over with fast.’ He hesitated. ‘I hope you did get over it fast. You have a partner now?’

What was there to say to that? A woman had some pride. ‘Don’t kid yourself that I’ve mourned you for ten years,’ she told him, attempting to glower. ‘I’ve had a very good time. I have a great job, a lovely home, dogs. I started dating Martin two years ago. He’s a lawyer and a friend, and he’d be here in a flash if I asked him. As would any number of my friends.’

‘But not now that you’re injured?’

‘I have a sore head, not a cerebral bleed. And you…’ Two could play at his game. ‘Wife? Kids? Goldfish?’

‘I’m too busy for relationships,’ he said brusquely. ‘Moving on. Anna, the idea of the hospital…you’re saying no.’

She hesitated. She was trying hard to be grown up, she told herself. She needed to shelve her adolescent self. She needed to get over a pain that surely should be well gone.

A hospital. Here.

Martin’s advice had been sound. ‘Do nothing. You can spend twenty years planning what to do when you finally inherit. Just go and look and then come home.’

Home sounded infinitely appealing.

But so did doing something. Something splendid?

‘I didn’t say no,’ she said, slowly now, thinking it through. If she could get over the past, if she could see how this could happen… If she could get over how this man made her feel…

‘Tell you what,’ she said, pushing herself to her feet again. And once again she wobbled and needed to let Leo take her arm to steady her. Regardless. ‘I’m rested,’ she said. ‘Yes, I’m still a bit shaky but I’m okay. Let’s put…let’s put everything behind us. You know this castle?’

‘I have been in it,’ he said. ‘I was your cousin’s treating doctor.’

‘So you’ve been in his bedroom and in the entrance. Anywhere else?’

‘I knew a lot of it as a boy,’ he admitted. ‘Your uncle ran on a skeleton staff so we could sneak around undetected. As kids…we did do our own exploring.’

‘Well, there you go,’ she said, determinedly cheerful. Determined to let bygones be bygones. Determined not to let the feel of his hand on her arm make her feel…what she needed to be long over feeling. ‘You know it, and you’ve obviously thought this through. So, Dr Aretino. Let’s forget the girlfriend-boyfriend thing. Let’s also forget the doctor-patient thing. We’re medical colleagues and you have a medical-based proposal. Let’s take a walk through this castle. My castle,’ she amended, because she was still getting her head around it and if she was going to face Victoir down then she needed the authority. And it wouldn’t hurt if this man held her at a distance either.

‘Victoir’s shown me Yanni’s over-the-top apartments and he’s shown me through sections that are obviously dangerous,’ she told him. ‘But I know he has his own agenda. Let’s turn what we can into more opulence and knock the rest down, is the gist of what he’s telling me. So, Dr Aretino, let’s go for a tour and you can tell me how any other option would be possible.’

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