Italian Mavericks: Forbidden Nights With The Italian: The Forbidden Ferrara / Surrendering to the Italian's Command / The Unwanted Conti Bride

‘I hadn’t told him. I was going to. I’d just walked in and he was lying there. I panicked—’ And that made her angrier than anything. Angry with herself. ‘I don’t know how I could have been so useless. I’ve done a first aid course. I should have known what to do.’

‘It’s different when it’s someone you love.’

Were his words intended as comfort or statement of fact? Statement of fact, obviously. They didn’t have the sort of relationship that allowed comfort.

That didn’t stop her knowing what she owed him. ‘How come you had one of those machines?’

‘The AED? We have them in all our hotels. One at reception, one in the health and fitness clubs. Sometimes one on the golf course. Our staff are trained in CPR as part of their induction programme. You never know when they could save a life.’ There was something in his voice that made her look closely at him but his profile revealed no clues as to his thoughts.

‘Santo—’

‘On second thought, why don’t we go and see if there is someone who can give us an update.’ Cutting across her, he opened the car door and then frowned as he realised Luca was asleep. ‘There is no sense in disturbing him. Luigi can stay with him and let us know the moment he wakes.’ He strode over to the other car and, after a brief exchange, Luigi eased his muscular bulk into the seat beside Luca.

‘Don’t you worry. If the little one so much as moves a muscle, I’ll call you. You concentrate on your grandfather.’

Torn by her responsibilities, Fia allowed Santo to lead her into the Emergency Department.

As they walked through the glass doors she heard the breath hiss through his teeth. Even a brief glance was enough for her to see the tension in those wide shoulders. And this time she was sure that he was thinking about his father.

Of course she knew none of the details. Just that it had been sudden and that it had devastated the close-knit Ferrara family. Santo had still been at school, his older brother Cristiano away at university in the US. She’d seen pictures of the funeral in the paper, but she hadn’t attended. A Baracchi wouldn’t have been allowed within the charmed perimeter of the Ferrara circle but that didn’t mean she hadn’t felt his pain. It had seemed grossly unfair to her young mind that such a perfect family could suffer such a loss. Their father adored his three children. How was it right that he should die before his time?

And now Santo was back here, forced into it by grim circumstances.

The sight of a Ferrara in the hospital was enough to throw the staff into a frenzy. The top cardiologist had summoned his team and it was obvious from the flurry of activity that no expense or effort was being spared in the drive to save her grandfather.

Her brother had been jealous of that, she remembered bleakly. The ability of the rich, powerful Ferrara brothers to open doors with just one look. He’d wanted that for himself. What he hadn’t understood was that their wealth and status had been achieved by hard graft. They didn’t demand the respect of others, they earned it.

And in this instance she was grateful for their power and influence. It meant she had the best people taking care of her grandfather.

The exchange with the cardiologist was brief, but it was enough to confirm what she’d suspected—that her grandfather was alive because Santo had shocked his heart back into normal rhythm. That knowledge added to the confusion in her brain. She didn’t want to be in debt to him, but at the same time part of her was proud that her son’s daddy was a man who could save a life.

They were shown to a small room reserved for relatives and something about those impersonal, clinical surroundings increased her feeling of desolation. And perhaps he felt it too because he didn’t sit, but instead stood with his back to her, staring out of the window at the chaos of the city.

Fia waited for him to leave and when he didn’t her good opinion started to fade. Resentment grew with each passing moment. ‘You don’t have to stay. Even if he recovers, he won’t be in a position to listen to you for a while.’

He turned. ‘You think I’m staying so that I can tell him the news? You think I’m that inhumane?’ The ferocity in his voice shocked her.

‘I assumed … Then why are you here?’

Incredulous dark eyes swept her face. ‘Do you have any other family to support you?’

He knew she didn’t. Her family wasn’t like his. Apart from her son, the sum total of her family was currently fighting for his life in the coronary care unit.

‘I don’t need support.’

‘The man you have lived with all your life is through those doors struggling to stay alive and you don’t need support? That is coping with hard times the Baracchi way. Or should I say the Fia way.’ He dragged his hand over the back of his neck and met her gaze. ‘Maybe that’s how you’ve dealt with them in the past but that isn’t how you’re going to deal with them in the future, be sure of that. I’m not leaving you here alone. From now on I’m by your side for all life’s major events—births, deaths, the graduation of our children. And for the minor events, too. That’s how we Ferraras conduct ourselves in a relationship. That’s how it’s going to be in our relationship, tesoro. Everything I said to you this morning still stands.’

The word ‘relationship’ reminded her that if her grandfather lived, she still had to break the news to him. And if he didn’t—

Her heart felt as if someone was twisting it.

‘You being here isn’t support, Santo. It’s adding to the stress because I know that you’re just waiting to pick your moment to tell him.’ Suddenly she needed to get away from him. From the width of those powerful shoulders and the sheer force of his presence. He’d made it his mission to eject her from the comfortable safe place she inhabited and she felt as vulnerable as a small animal chased from its burrow. ‘I need to check on Luca.’

‘He is still asleep. If he wasn’t, Luigi would have called me.’

‘He might not want to bother you.’

‘I would trust Luigi with my life.’

Fia thought about how kind his head of security had been earlier. He’d had a job to do and he’d done it, but he’d done it with a sensitivity that had surprised her. ‘It’s not about trust. It’s about the fact Luca doesn’t know him. I don’t want him to wake up, find himself in a strange place and be scared.’

Those eyes frowned into hers and he was about to answer when the door opened and the consultant walked in.

Panic gripped her. ‘My grandfather—?’ Now that the moment had come she was almost too afraid to ask the question that had to be asked. As if by postponing it for a few seconds she could change reality. ‘Is he—?’

‘He had an occluded coronary artery. Without rapid treatment he would not be here now. It is without doubt your use of the AED that saved him in those first precious minutes.’ The consultant carried on, talking about heart muscle, clots and drugs, angioplasty and future risk factors but all she heard was that her grandfather was still alive. The rest washed over her in a wave of jargon she didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand.

It was Santo who asked the relevant questions. Santo who discussed treatment options and truthfully she was grateful to him because once again her brain seemed to be working in slow motion.

Eventually all the questions were answered and the consultant nodded. ‘He wants to see you. Normally I would refuse at this point because he needs rest but it’s clear that something is causing him stress. He is very agitated and he needs to be reassured.’

‘Of course.’ Fia flew to the door but the consultant stopped her.

‘It was Santo he asked for. He was quite specific about that. Your grandfather asked for Santo Ferrara.’

Fia felt her knees shake and she glanced at Santo in horror. ‘No! Seeing you will upset him badly.’

‘He is already upset. Apparently there are things he needs to say,’ the consultant told them, ‘so I think it might be helpful for him. But keep it brief and keep any stress to a minimum.’

Santo would tell him that Luca was his child.

How was that keeping stress to a minimum?

Apparently suffering from none of her doubts, Santo strode through the door. ‘Let’s do this.’

She shot after him. ‘Please don’t.’ She kept her voice low. ‘Whatever you think of me, don’t do this. Please don’t tell him yet. Wait until he’s stronger.’ She almost stumbled as she tried to keep up with him, panicking madly, unable to see a single way that this encounter was going to have a happy ending. Why was her grandfather asking to see him? At this stage he couldn’t even know that it was Santo who had saved his life.

Reluctantly, she walked into the room and caught her breath at the sight of the machines and wires that dominated her grandfather’s frail form.

For a moment she couldn’t move and then she felt a warm strong hand close over hers and the reassuring squeeze of male fingers.

Shocked, Fia stood for a moment, distracted by the novel experience of being comforted.

And then she heard a sound from the bed and saw her grandfather’s eyes open. And she realised Santo’s touch wasn’t about comfort, but manipulation.

Instantly she snatched her hand away. ‘Nonno—’ She tried to catch his eyes and reassure him but her grandfather wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Santo.

And Santo, being who he was, didn’t flinch or look remotely discomfited.