St Piran’s: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride

‘Like the Rowlands.’ Gio’s smile had nearly stopped her heart.

‘Y-yes.’ Flustered, she’d tried to get a grip. ‘There can be a wide variety of situations… parents making difficult decisions about treatment for their child, or a young man who has crashed his motorbike and, overnight, has gone from being fit and active to waking up in hospital to the news he’ll never walk again. Or it could be an older person who’s had a stroke and is unable to return to their home. Or a relative in A and E trying to come to terms with a sudden bereavement.’

Something dark and painful had flashed in Gio’s intense blue eyes, alerting Jess to the possibility there had been some traumatic event in his past. She hadn’t pried, and Gio had declined to refer to it, but she had wondered about his background.

‘So you see people through those first stages?’ he’d asked next, pushing his empty dish aside and reclaiming her attention.

‘That’s right. Sometimes people need a shoulder to cry on and a friend in their corner. Others need greater help and back-up. I can liaise with other departments and with agencies outside the hospital that can offer care, advice and support, like social services, or relatives who have expectations that the patient may not want,’ she’d explained, finding him easy to talk to. ‘My job is to support them and their rights, and to help them achieve the best solution to whatever problem they’re facing. If they need ongoing counselling once they leave hospital, they are assigned to one of my colleagues through Outpatients, or to an outside support organisation.’

Gio had shaken his head. ‘I hadn’t realised the full extent of what you do for people. It’s very impressive… you’re very impressive. I can see why everyone here respects you so much.’

The admiration in his eyes and praise in his sexy voice had warmed her right through and brought an uncharacteristic sting of tears to her eyes. ‘It’s hardly brain surgery,’ she’d quipped to mask her embarrassment.

Gio’s husky chuckle of appreciation had tightened the knot of awareness low in her tummy, and a sudden wave of longing had stolen her breath and made her realise how alone she had been these last four years. She enjoyed a friendship with Megan and Brianna, but it didn’t extended beyond work and could never fill the cold and lonely void that had grown inside her since her life had turned upside down.

‘Your first day’s been hectic and hasn’t ended in the best of ways, but how have you found St Piran’s?’ Jess had asked, anxious to move the conversation away from herself.

‘I would rather not have returned to Theatre for that poor girl tonight,’ he’d admitted, and she had seen the lines of tiredness around his eyes. ‘But I’ve enjoyed today and it’s good to be in near the beginning of a new unit for the hospital. It was one of the reasons I took the job. I was impressed with Gordon Ainsworth, the senior neurological consultant, the state-of-the-art equipment and the plans to increase the neurosurgical services here. Being able to help shape those services and build my own team appealed to me. Of course, many people cannot understand why I would leave London to come here.’

‘It’s none of their business, is it? If it’s what you want, that’s all that matters,’ she’d told him, his surprised expression suggesting her matter-of-fact support had been in short supply.

‘Thank you.’ His slow, intimate smile had threatened to unravel her completely. ‘St Piran’s offered me new challenges and fresh opportunities, as well as the chance of more rapid career progression.’

It had made sense to her. ‘Better to be a big fish in a small pond?’

Again the smile with its devastating effect on her. ‘But it’s much more than that… more than what I might gain for myself.’ He’d leaned forward and folded his arms on the table, a pout of consideration shaping his sexy mouth. ‘I commit a fair bit of time and money to a charitable trust that not only funds research, equipment for hospitals in various countries and support for patients and their families with brain tumours and other neurological conditions. We also bring children in desperate need of specialist treatment to the UK.’

She hadn’t been surprised to learn of this side to him. She’d seen the kind of doctor he was. Instinct had told her how important the charity work was to him, and she’d suspected there was far more to it than he had told her… reasons why the trust was so close to his heart.

‘That’s fantastic. And it must be so rewarding.’

‘It is. That St Piran’s is interested and has given permission for me to continue to bring over a number of children each year, donating the hospital facilities free of charge, was a huge factor in my decision to come here.’

Jess had been fascinated as he’d talked more about the work he’d done with the trust. Her heart had swelled with pride as she’d thought about his selflessness and determination to use his skills to help others.

‘He is very handsome, isn’t he?’

Brianna’s comment impinged on Jess’s consciousness and she blinked, looking up and following her friend’s gaze in time to see Gio carrying a tray across the canteen and sitting at a table with Ben Carter and James Alexander. Her pulse raced at the sight of him and she had to beat back a dart of jealousy at Brianna’s evident appreciation of Gio’s looks.

The man in question turned his head and met her gaze. For several moments it was as if there was no one else in the canteen?the myriad conversations going on all around her faded to a background hum and everything was a blur but Gio himself. A shiver ran down her spine and a very real sense of fear clutched at her. Less than a week and already this man had breached her defences and become all too important to her.

What was she going to do? If she allowed the friendship to develop, she knew things would end in heartbreak. Despite knowing that, and despite a desperate need to preserve all she had achieved these last four years, she wasn’t sure she could give Gio up.

A sudden clatter and burst of laughter from across the room caught the attention of everyone in the canteen and snapped Gio’s gaze away from Jessica. He glanced round in time to see three junior doctors trying to contain the mess from a can of fizzy drink as the liquid spewed from the top in a bubbly fountain, soaking everything and everyone within range.

‘The Three Stooges,’ Ben commented wryly.

James chuckled. ‘Were we ever that young and foolish and confident?’

‘Probably!’ Ben allowed.

Gio tried not to dwell on the past. His memories were mixed, all the happy ones overshadowed by the bad ones and the blackest time of his life. Ben and James, fellow consultants with whom he had struck up an immediate rapport, began detailing the merits of the three rowdy young doctors, but Gio’s attention was inexorably drawn back to Jessica. The now familiar awareness surged through him, tightening his gut and making it difficult to breathe.

Jessica was sitting with two other women. Megan Phillips, the paediatric registrar with whom he worked frequently. And Brianna Flannigan, a kind and dedicated nursing sister in NICU/PICU, whom he’d met for the first time that morning. On the surface, the three women shared many similarities and yet they were distinctly different. And it was only Jessica who made his pulse race and caused his heart, which he had believed to be in permanent cold storage, to flutter with long-forgotten excitement.

They had sat in this very canteen and talked for a long time that first night, yet he’d discovered precious little about her. He, on the other hand, had revealed far more than he’d intended.

Her understanding and support about his move to Cornwall had warmed him. Many people had appreciated his need to leave Italy for New York five years ago. Some had comprehended his decision to leave New York, and the team of the neurosurgeon who had taught him so much, to move to London. But very few had grasped why he had chosen St Piran’s over the other options that had been open to him—options that would have meant more money and working at bigger hospitals.

Those things hadn’t interested him, which had not surprised Jessica. St Piran’s offered the opportunity of advancing to head of department within a decade, Gordon Ainsworth grooming him to take over when he retired, but it had been the administration’s support of his charity work that had swayed his decision.

He’d told Jessica about the trust but not why it was so important to him. Not yet. That he was thinking of doing so showed how far she had burrowed under his skin. Even as warning bells rang in his head, suggesting he was getting too close too quickly, he couldn’t stop himself craving her company and wanting to know more about her.

They’d seen each other often during the week, working together with a couple of new patients and a rapidly improving Cody Rowland. Their friendship grew tighter all the time but Jessica remained nervous. She’d relax for a time then something would cause her to raise her defensive wall again. Her working hours puzzled him, and the extent of her medical knowledge continued to intrigue him.

The little she had revealed about herself centred around her work at St Piran’s. Listening to her describe her role, and witnessing her way with people?including the use of Charlie, the teddy-bear hand puppet, to interact with frightened children?had left him full of admiration for her devotion and skill.

‘Much of my work involves supporting people who face life changes and difficult decisions caused by illness or accident. It’s a huge shock to the system,’ she’d told him and, for a moment her eyes had revealed such intense pain that it had taken his breath away.

He’d wanted to comfort and hug her, but he’d resisted the instinctive urge, aware of Jessica’s aversion to touching and being touched… one of her mysteries he hoped to unravel. But the incident had left him in little doubt that she’d experienced some similar trauma. As had he, he allowed, with his own dart of inner pain.

‘Patients and relatives often try to be strong for each other,’ Jessica had continued with perceptive insight, ‘when often they need to admit that they’re scared and have a bloody good cry.’ She’d sent him a sweet, sad smile that had ripped at his already shredded heart. ‘I’m merely a vehicle, a sounding board, someone outside their normal lives on whom they can offload all the emotion.’

What toll did that take on her? Gio wondered with concern. And who was there for her? They were questions to which he still had no answers.

Without conscious decision or prior arrangement, they’d met each evening in the canteen, lingering over something to eat, discussing work, finding all manner of common interests in books, music and politics, both of them steering clear of anything too personal.

He’d learned very quickly to tread carefully, watching for the triggers that caused her withdrawal. He liked her, enjoyed her company and was comfortable with her but also alive, aroused and challenged, feeling things he’d not experienced in the five long years since his world had come crashing down around him.

Taking things slowly was a necessity. For both of them. But every day he became more deeply involved. So much so that having to say goodnight to her and return alone to his rented house was becoming increasingly difficult.

‘Oh, to be that young and free from responsibility.’

Edged with bitterness, the words were voiced by Josh O’Hara and pulled Gio from his reverie. The Irishman took the final empty chair and set his plate down on the table. Gio regarded the other man, wondering what had sparked his reaction.

‘Something wrong, Josh?’ Ben asked, a frown on his face.

‘Bad day.’ He pushed his food aside untouched. ‘I’ve just had to DOA an eighteen-year-old… I was going to say man, but he was scarcely more than a boy with his whole life ahead of him.’

Gio sympathised, recalling how he’d felt a few days ago when the young woman had died in Theatre from multiple injuries. ‘What happened?’

‘He was an apprentice mechanic at a local garage, driving the work van and following another mechanic who was returning a customer’s car after service,’ Josh explained, emotion in his accented voice as he told the story. ‘Some bozo going home from a liquid lunch at the golf club and driving far too fast ploughed into the van. The boy wasn’t wearing his seat belt, the van had no air-bags, and he went through the windscreen. He had horrible head and facial injuries—apparently he’d been a good-looking boy, not that I could tell—and a broken neck.’

Gio exchanged glances with Ben and James, both of whom were listening with equal solemnity and empathy. ‘And the drunk driver?’ Ben queried, voicing the question in all their minds.

‘Yeah, well, there’s the rub. There’s no justice in this world.’ Josh gave a humourless laugh. ‘The boy’s colleague, who witnessed the crash, is in shock. The drunk driver hasn’t got a scratch on him. The police have arrested him and I hope they throw the book at him, but whatever sentence he gets won’t be enough to make up for that young life, will it?’