His heart was broken...

Will she be the one to heal it?

Dr. Lorenzo Conti is devastated by his ex’s revelation that his beloved daughter isn’t his, and the pain of losing her from his life. Yet his new colleague, bubbly, generous pediatrician Jenna, incredibly connects with his brooding heart. Could she help him move on to a new life and a new family? Maybe—if he can learn to trust again...

KATE HARDY has always loved books, and could read before she went to school. She discovered Mills & Boon books when she was twelve and decided this was what she wanted to do. When she isn’t writing Kate enjoys reading, cinema, ballroom dancing and the gym. You can contact her via her website: katehardy.com.

Also by Kate Hardy

Capturing the Single Dad’s Heart

The Midwife’s Pregnancy Miracle

Mummy, Nurse…Duchess?

His Shy Cinderella

The Runaway Bride and the Billionaire

Christmas Bride for the Boss

Miracles at Muswell Hill Hospital miniseries

Christmas with Her Daredevil Doc

Their Pregnancy Gift

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Unlocking the Italian Doc’s Heart

Kate Hardy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07515-2

UNLOCKING THE ITALIAN DOC’S HEART

© 2018 Pamela Brooks

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 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.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my much-loved editor Sheila, with especial thanks for her patience. xx

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

‘JENNA HARRIS—JUST the person I was looking for.’ Robert Jones, the head of paediatrics, walked over to Jenna with a man she’d never seen before. ‘Jenna, this is Lorenzo Conti, our new senior registrar. He’s rostered on to the Paediatric Assessment Unit with you today, so I wondered if you’d mind settling him in?’

‘Sure,’ Jenna said. She held out her hand to Lorenzo. ‘Welcome to the children’s department at Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital, Dr Conti.’

‘Thank you, Dr Harris,’ he said, smiling back. His handshake was firm without being over-pushy, Jenna noticed; she liked that. ‘Call me Renzo.’

His voice, with that slight Italian accent, was like melted chocolate. Add those expressive dark eyes, hair that flopped slightly over his forehead and that killer smile, and he’d have all the women in the hospital falling at his feet. And Jenna was horribly aware that her skin was tingling where he was touching her.

Oh, for pity’s sake. This was totally inappropriate. Lorenzo Conti was her new colleague. She’d only just met him and he might already be involved with someone. Even if he wasn’t, Jenna had promised herself that she was going to focus on her career and make up the ground she’d lost when she’d taken a year’s career break. Right now, she really wasn’t interested in starting a relationship with anyone; Danny’s refusal to support her decision and the ultimatum he’d given her had put her off the idea of sharing her life with anyone else. Ever.

Though she didn’t regret the choice she’d made. If she could go back to that moment, knowing what she did now, she’d still make exactly that same choice. The only thing she regretted was her poor judgement. How had she not seen Danny for what he was, earlier? How had she let herself be blinded by all that charm?

‘Renzo,’ she said, ignoring the fact she felt very slightly flustered. ‘I’m Jenna.’

‘Jenna,’ he said, inclining his head slightly.

She was pretty sure the temperature in the room hadn’t suddenly increased by five degrees, though it felt like it.

Oh, honestly. She needed to pull herself together. Now. Be professional, capable and polite, the way she’d normally be with a new member of the team. This pull of attraction towards Lorenzo Conti was something she’d just have to ignore, because it was going nowhere.

‘Shall we?’ She gestured to the door, and he released her hand.

‘In the PAU, we see children who’ve been referred to us by their family doctor or by the Emergency Department,’ she explained as she ushered him through to the assessment area.

‘We had a similar system when I worked at the London Victoria,’ he said.

‘So coming here to Muswell Hill is a promotion for you?’ she asked.

‘Something like that.’

Though that clearly wasn’t the whole story, because it was as if the shutters had just gone down behind his eyes. Whatever had just made him back away from her was none of her business. Time to back off. She smiled and said, ‘Let me introduce you to Laney, our triage nurse in the PAU this morning. Laney, this is Dr Conti, our new senior reg.’

‘Call me Renzo,’ he said, shaking Laney’s hand, and Jenna felt ever so slightly better that Laney seemed to be just as flustered by Lorenzo Conti as she’d been.

* * *

Their first case was a little girl who’d been eating an orange and stuffed a pip up her nose.

‘OK for me to take this one, Renzo?’ Jenna asked.

‘Sure.’

‘Mrs Peters, if you’d like to come this way, I’ll examine Callie,’ she said with a smile, and ushered the young woman and her daughter through to one of the cubicles.

Renzo could hear Jenna talking, all calm and reassuring with the mum; he liked her bedside manner very much. She was straightforward, explaining things easily in layman’s terms without frightening either the child or the parent, so she’d be good to work with. And he liked what he’d seen of the rest of the team so far. Making a fresh start here at Muswell Hill Memorial Hospital had definitely been a good idea.

‘We see lots of small children who’ve stuffed something they shouldn’t up their nose,’ Jenna said, ‘and I want to avoid putting Callie through a general anaesthetic and an operation if we can.’

Clearly she’d just looked up Callie’s nose with a penlight torch, because then Lorenzo heard her say, ‘I can see the pip very clearly, but because it’s hard and round I can’t put a crocodile clip up Callie’s nose to grab it. I can’t ask her to blow her nose, either, as she’s too little to be able to blow it with the force she’d need to get the pip out, so I’m going to need your help with this. Is that OK?’

‘Yes, of course. Just tell me what I need to do,’ Mrs Peters said.

‘I’m going to lay Callie down on the bed with her head on the pillow and block the nostril that hasn’t got the orange pip in it. Then I’m going to ask you to blow into her mouth, and it should make the pip pop straight out. It doesn’t always work, and I wouldn’t ever advise you to try doing this at home if she does this again,’ Jenna warned, ‘because it’s much safer to do it in hospital where we can act straight away if it doesn’t work. But if it does work, that means we don’t have to worry about an operation.’

There was a pause while Lorenzo assumed that Jenna was following through the actions she’d just described.

‘Yay, it’s out!’ Jenna said. ‘Well done for being so brave, Callie. And thank you, Mrs Peters.’

‘That pip’s got green bogeys on it,’ he heard a high-pitched voice say. ‘Yuck!’

Renzo didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as he was busy with his own first patient, but he was pretty sure it would involve a special sticker for her patient and a reassuring smile for the mum. Just as he would’ve done, had he been the doctor treating young Callie.

Professionally, on first impressions he liked Jenna a lot. But he wasn’t going to act on the pull of attraction he felt towards her. He’d learned the hard way not to risk his heart again. He’d lost too much, last time. His marriage, his daughter and his belief in love.

* * *

‘I need both of you for the next case,’ Laney said when Jenna and Lorenzo emerged from seeing their last patients. ‘Billy Jackson is three. He fell on the stairs an hour ago and cut his forehead.’

Badly enough to need stitches rather than glueing the cut together, Lorenzo assumed, or Laney wouldn’t have asked for them both to see the boy.

‘Let’s go and have a look at you and sort out that cut, Billy,’ Lorenzo said with a smile when they went out to see the little boy.

Billy looked anxious and shielded the cut with his hand. ‘I don’t want to. It hurts.’

‘I promise you we’ll try our best to stop it hurting,’ Lorenzo said, crouching down to the little boy’s level. ‘Do you like cars?’

Billy nodded solemnly and clutched his mother’s hand.

‘So do I. Tell you what, while I’m looking at your poorly head, do you want to look through all my pictures of cars and see which one is your favourite?’

Again, Billy nodded.

‘That’s great. I’m Dr Renzo, and this is Dr Jenna. And I promise we’re going to make your head feel much less sore.’ He took a pack of cards from his pocket and handed them to Billy, straightened up and looked at the little boy’s mum. ‘Are you OK, Mrs Jackson?’

She gave him a rueful smile. ‘Just about. There was an awful lot of blood. That’s why I brought him into the emergency department—and they sent us up to you.’

‘Head wounds always bleed a lot, and they always look much more scary than they really are,’ Lorenzo said, to reassure her.

‘Do you know how Billy banged his head?’ Jenna asked.

‘He tripped while he was going upstairs and he banged his head on one of the treads,’ Mrs Jackson said.

‘We see lots of children who’ve done exactly that,’ Jenna said reassuringly. ‘Was he unconscious at all after he banged his head, or has he seemed woozy since then or wanted to go to sleep?’

‘No. He started crying the moment it happened.’

‘Probably from the fright he gave himself, as well as the pain of the cut,’ Jenna said. ‘But it’s good that he wasn’t unconscious or woozy—that means he probably doesn’t have concussion. I know it must’ve been a real worry for you but, as Renzo said, it’s a lot less serious than it looks. Would you like to sit on the bed with Billy while we take a look at his cut and do a couple of tests?’

Between them, Lorenzo and Jenna took a closer look at the cut—a long gash, though thankfully it didn’t have jagged edges—and then they checked his pupils and his reaction to light.

‘I’m happy that we’re looking at a straightforward cut rather than concussion or anything to worry about,’ Lorenzo said. ‘It’s quite a big cut, so we’re going to need to put stitches in. But I promise it’s not going to hurt, Billy. I’m going to put some magic cream on your head so you won’t feel anything when I mend your cut, and before that I’m going to ask Dr Jenna to help you to breathe in some gas and air. It’s a bit like the stuff you get in a balloon when you’ve been to a party.’

‘A balloon?’ Billy’s eyes went round with amazement. ‘Will I go up in the air?’

Jenna clearly heard the slight panic in his voice because she said, ‘No, sweetie, I promise you won’t. You’ll still be sitting there right next to Mummy.’

‘And meanwhile you have a job to do,’ Lorenzo said, gesturing to the cards Billy was holding. ‘Have a look through these cars and tell me which one is your favourite.’

Jenna administered the gas and air, and Lorenzo put anaesthetic gel on the wound.

‘Can you feel me touching your head?’ Lorenzo asked.

‘No-o,’ Billy said, sounding surprised.

‘That’s good. Now, tell me about the cars you like best,’ Lorenzo said.

While Billy held his mum’s hand very tightly and looked through the car pictures, exclaiming every so often about one he liked, Lorenzo closed the wound with six neat, careful stitches.

‘The good news is that the stitches are dissolvable, so you won’t have to come and have them taken out again,’ Jenna said to Mrs Jackson. ‘I’ll run you through how to care for the wound and I’ll give you a leaflet as well, because obviously right now you’re worried sick about Billy and it’s hard to concentrate and remember things when you’re worried. Basically you need to keep the area dry for the next two days, but you can wash it quickly with soap and water and pat it dry after that. If the wound opens up or looks red and swollen, or there’s any kind of discharge, bring him straight back.’

‘Thank you. I will,’ Mrs Jackson said.

‘So which one’s your favourite out of the ones you liked, Billy?’ Lorenzo asked when he’d finished the last suture.

‘This one.’ Billy handed him a card with a picture of a red sports car.

‘Good choice. That’s my favourite, too.’

‘Because it’s red?’ the little boy guessed.

‘Because it’s Italian, like me,’ Lorenzo said with a smile.

Billy’s eyes widened. ‘Have you got a real car like that?’

Lorenzo chuckled. ‘I wish! Maybe one day.’

‘I want a car like that when I’m all growed up,’ Billy said.

‘That sounds like a good plan,’ Lorenzo said. He took a glittery sticker from his pocket with the words ‘I was THIS brave’ emblazoned across it. ‘And I’m giving you a special sticker so you can show everyone else how brave you were today.’

‘Thank you,’ Billy said. With a shy look at his mother first, he handed the rest of the cards back to Lorenzo.

‘Thank you,’ Lorenzo said. He smiled at Mrs Jackson. ‘Try not to worry. I know Jenna’s taken you through what to look out for, but if you’re concerned at all come back and see us.’

‘I will,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much for what you’ve done for Billy.’

‘Pleasure,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Take the stairs a bit more slowly from now on, Billy, OK?’

The little boy nodded.

‘Nice work,’ Jenna said when Billy and his mother had gone. ‘So you use car pictures to distract little boys?’

‘Not just boys. Girls like cars, too,’ Lorenzo said. ‘But I have a backup set of cards with puppies and kittens, to distract the kids who don’t like cars.’

‘Know your patient, hmm?’ Jenna asked.

‘Something like that.’

She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s almost lunchtime. Are you already spoken for?’

Lorenzo felt his eyes widen. Was she asking him out? He didn’t have a problem with a woman taking the lead and asking a man out—but, considering they’d only just met, this was too fast for his liking. And he wasn’t in the market for dating anyway.

‘For lunch, that is,’ she added swiftly. ‘As this is your first day, if you don’t already have plans, then you’re very welcome to come to the canteen with me if you’d like some company and someone to show you where things are.’

Not a date, then: a colleague simply being kind and offering to show him around his new place of work. He could manage that. ‘Thanks. That’d be nice.’

‘Don’t thank me just yet,’ she warned.

‘Why?’ he asked, confused. ‘Is the food not very nice here?’

‘It’s nothing to do with the food,’ she said. ‘Actually, I’ll buy your lunch as I have a proposition for you.’

Lorenzo was pretty sure that it was just a turn of phrase, but the word ‘proposition’ put all sorts of inappropriate ideas in his head. Jenna Harris was gorgeous as well as being bubbly, with her mop of blonde curls that she wore pulled back in a scrunchie on the ward, wide blue eyes and ready smile. He liked the way she’d been with their patients and their parents: kind, clear and sympathetic.

But, after what had happened with Georgia and Florence, he wasn’t up for falling in love again and getting his heart well and truly trampled on. This was his new start, and he intended to focus on his job, not his personal life.

‘Proposition,’ he said carefully.

‘I’ll explain over lunch. Meet you back here after your next patient?’ she asked.

‘OK,’ he said.

At the canteen, Lorenzo chose a sandwich, fruit and coffee, and Jenna did the same.

‘You really don’t have to buy me lunch,’ he said while they queued to pay.

‘Oh, but I do,’ she corrected, ‘because I want you to feel ever so slightly beholden to me.’

So she was being manipulative? That was pretty much how Georgia had been with him. Except Jenna was being up front about it instead of hiding secrets. Well, he’d try to keep an open mind and listen to what she had to say before he made any judgements.

Once they’d sat down, he asked, ‘So what’s the proposition?’

Her eyes widened. ‘Hang on, aren’t we supposed to be doing all the usual pleasantries first? Like, where did you train, what made you pick paediatrics, does your family live near, that sort of thing?’

He shrugged. ‘OK. I trained in London, I picked paediatrics because it was my favourite rotation when I was training; my parents, brother and sister all live in East London at the moment but my parents are thinking of moving back to their roots in Lake Garda when my father retires; and I’m single.’ Most importantly, he added, ‘And I’m not looking for a partner.’ He’d had completely the wrong idea about his marriage, thinking that he and Georgia were happy. But things hadn’t been what they’d seemed; he’d lived a lie for nearly two years before Georgia had finally cracked and told him the truth about Florence. Though he kept that particular black hole behind high walls and barbed wire. ‘You?’

‘I trained here in Muswell Hill, and I chose paediatrics for the same reason as you—I like kids and I really love making them better. My parents and my sister all live in London, about half an hour away from me; and I’m also single and not looking for a partner.’ She smiled. ‘Which means that you and I can be friends.’

‘Is this part of the proposition?’ he checked.

She laughed. ‘Absolutely not. But we’re a close-knit team on our ward and we do a lot of things together. Team nights out for pizza and ten-pin bowling, cinema, picnics on the beach in summer—that sort of thing. It’s kind of like having an extended family. Partners and kids come along to half the stuff and it’s lovely.’

A family. The thing he’d once had—and lost. And how he missed it. But he knew he was lucky to have what he had: a large extended Italian family who loved him. Wanting more was just greedy.

He shook himself. Jenna didn’t know about his past, and she didn’t need to know. Besides, she’d clearly meant to reassure him that he’d picked a really nice place to work. ‘Sounds good,’ he said, forcing himself to keep his tone light.

She raised her coffee mug at him. ‘Welcome to the team. I think you’re going to love it here as much as I do.’

He hoped so, too, but he’d reserve judgement until he’d been here a while. ‘And the proposition?’

‘I’m on the ward’s fundraising committee. A week on Saturday, we’re holding a six-hour danceathon to raise money for new toys for the ward,’ she explained. ‘People pay a fixed sum to enter, and they can be sponsored either for a flat fee or for each hour they stay on the dance floor.’

Now he understood what the proposition was. ‘You want me to be one of the dancers?’

‘If you’re not on duty, then yes, please.’

Which would be an easy let-out for him. Except she’d know pretty quickly that he wasn’t telling the truth, and he didn’t want to start his professional life here with a lie. He’d had enough of lies.

‘I’m off duty.’

‘Good.’ She smiled. ‘It should be easy for you. Aren’t all Italian men meant to be wonderful dancers?’

‘That,’ he said, ‘is a sweeping generalisation. And I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you, because I have two left feet.’

‘So do half the people who are coming along on the day. It really doesn’t matter what you look like or how badly you dance, as long as you raise some money for the toys. It’s going to be fun,’ she said. ‘And you’ll get to hear Maybe Baby play.’

‘Who are Maybe Baby?’ he asked.

‘They’re pretty much the hospital’s house band—they play at a lot of weddings and special occasions,’ Jenna explained. ‘Half of them are from the Maternity ward—Anton on guitar and Gilly on bass—and from our department there’s Keely on vocals and Martin on drums. They’re fantastic.’

‘They’re playing for the whole six hours?’

‘Probably for about half of it,’ she said. ‘Nathan, one of the porters in the Emergency Department, is a DJ when he’s not working here, so he’s doing the other half of the music for us. We’re holding the danceathon in the local high school’s sports hall; one of the local pubs is running a bar for us and donating the profits from the night, and a few of the parents of children we’ve treated heard what we’re doing and offered to sort out the food for us. Plus we’ve sweet-talked a few local businesses into donating raffle prizes, everything from nice toiletries to chocolates to vouchers towards a meal.’

Lorenzo had the strongest feeling that she was downplaying her own role in this. Clearly it was something she’d been deeply involved in, something close to her heart.

‘I’m more than happy to sponsor someone,’ he said, ‘and maybe take tickets on the door or help run your raffle stall. But I’m afraid it’s a no to the dancing.’

‘It’s a shame I can’t talk you into it, because it’ll be fun,’ she said, ‘but I’ll take the offer of manning a stall, for however much time you can spare. Thank you.’

‘Are you dancing?’ he asked, suddenly curious.

‘Absolutely. You’d never get me running or struggling to lift stuff in the gym, because that doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest,’ she said, ‘but I do a couple of dance classes a week and I walk my neighbour’s dog at weekends. That’s my preferred way of keeping fit.’

He should back off. It was none of his business. And he wasn’t supposed to start being interested in someone else. This was work. But he couldn’t stop the question coming out. ‘What sort of dance classes?’

‘Salsa on Tuesdays and Latin ballroom dancing on Thursdays. I’m not elegant enough to do the waltz or the foxtrot,’ she explained, ‘but I love dancing the samba and the cha-cha-cha.’

The fun and bouncy stuff. That didn’t surprise him. From what he’d seen of her so far, that summed up Jenna Harris very neatly. ‘So was the danceathon your idea?’

‘Guilty as charged.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘But everyone else on the committee said it sounded like a lot of fun, or we wouldn’t have done it.’

‘OK. Count me in for helping on a stall,’ he said. And then his mouth ran away with him. He was supposed to be keeping things professional and slightly distant, not putting himself in a position where he’d see more of her. But the words came out anyway. ‘I can help set up, too, if you like.’

‘Thank you.’ She smiled at him. ‘And maybe I can talk you into just one dance.’

‘Maybe. No promises,’ he warned.

‘Sure.’ Her smile broadened, which told him she had every intention of breaking down his resistance.

Well, she had no chance there. His intentions were stronger still: to keep a professional distance between himself and Jenna. Yes, she was attractive and he liked her very much—but he wasn’t risking his heart again. As far as he was concerned, they were strictly colleagues.

‘I guess we ought to get back,’ he said. ‘Thank you for lunch.’

‘My pleasure. And thank you for agreeing to help with the danceathon.’

‘Prego,’ he said, inclining his head. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘If only you’d joined us a month ago. I bet you could’ve charmed a ton of money out of everyone who walked through the hospital doors by smiling at them and speaking in Italian. You would’ve been our secret weapon.’ She looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Would you be good at general knowledge, by any chance?’

‘I’m reasonable,’ he said.

‘You’re polite, so I’m guessing you’re understating your talents because you don’t want to boast about how good you are. Right. That settles it. I’m co-opting you onto our departmental quiz team, too.’

‘You,’ he said, ‘are scary. All that sweet, sweet smile, baby-blue eyes and butter-wouldn’t-melt expression—but you’ve got everyone organised and agreeing to things before they even have time to blink, haven’t you?’

‘Jenna the hustler—that’s me,’ she said, looking totally unrepentant. ‘If I could actually play pool, I’d make gazillions out of unwary punters and we’d have the best-equipped paediatric department in the country.’

He couldn’t help laughing. Even though he wanted to keep her at a distance, her warmth, her charm and her sheer chutzpah were irresistible. He would’ve liked to find something about her that wiped out that pull of attraction. But even her bossiness had a charm to it. She was nice. He’d have to rely on the determination that had got him through the miserable months when his marriage imploded, and keep things professional between them. ‘I have a feeling you’re going to get a ton of money out of your danceathon. And I bet you’ll drive a hard bargain with a toy shop afterwards.’

‘Cost price, that’s what I’m after,’ she said. ‘So if you know someone with contacts to a wholesaler or a toy shop, I’m all ears.’

‘Sorry. I can’t help with that one.’

‘That’s OK. You’re helping me set up, you’re manning a stall for a bit, and you agreed to one dance. That’ll do nicely.’

Lorenzo was pretty sure he hadn’t actually agreed to one dance. But he was equally sure that Jenna wasn’t going to let him get away with it. ‘Let’s get back to the ward,’ he said. Where he’d be able to focus on work, and have the space to damp down the unexpected feelings that were threatening to turn him upside down.

CHAPTER TWO

‘OH, NOW, THAT smells fabulous,’ Jenna said, walking into the kitchen and hugging her twin. ‘Tell me that’s your lasagne cooking in the oven, Lu.’

‘It is.’ Lucy hugged her back. ‘It’ll be ready in twenty minutes. Grab a glass of wine. Will’s in the living room with his nose in a book. How was your day?’

‘Fine.’ Jenna poured herself half a glass of wine. ‘The new senior reg started today.’

‘What’s he or she like?’

‘He’s nice. Robert asked me to look after him in the PAU today.’

Lucy smiled. ‘Because you, my dear sister, are brilliant at tucking new people under your wing.’

‘Because I had a good example to follow in the best primary school teacher ever,’ Jenna pointed out, and lifted her glass in a toast. ‘So how was your day?’

‘Fine. Ava spent the whole day chatting.’

Jenna grinned. ‘That’s because she takes after her aunt.’

‘Strictly speaking—’ Lucy began.

‘I’m her aunt,’ Jenna said firmly. ‘Lu, we’ve been through this enough times. In every way, Ava is your and Will’s daughter. All I did was lend you my womb for a few months—which I know you would have done for me if our situations had been the other way round.’

‘Of course I would.’ Lucy bit her lip. ‘Though the egg was yours, too.’

‘And, as we’re identical twins, that means our genes are the same, so my egg is exactly the same as yours would’ve been,’ Jenna reminded her. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Ava’s biologically yours, as well as legally and morally.’

Their friends and family—apart from one notable exception—had all been supportive about the surrogate pregnancy, but Jenna knew Lucy felt guilty about it. And usually Lucy’s doubts came to the surface when someone had upset her on the subject. ‘Has someone said something to you?’ she asked gently.

‘No—well, yes,’ Lucy admitted.

‘I hope you told them to walk a mile in your shoes and learn a few facts before they give you any more of their uninformed opinions.’

Lucy winced. ‘It’s my fault. The subject of surrogacy came up at toddler group. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.’

‘You have nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, your story might actually help someone who’s struggling with the same issues you went through, and could see that there might just be a light for them, too, at the end of the tunnel.’ Jenna sighed. ‘But we seem to live in an age where everyone thinks their opinion is more valid than anyone else’s, and they don’t consider anyone else’s feelings before they open their mouths.’ Someone had clearly hectored her sister on the subject of surrogate babies. Jenna would’ve quite liked a serious chat with whoever had been so thoughtless, so she could put them very straight on the subject—and then shake them very hard until their teeth rattled.

‘I guess.’

Jenna frowned. ‘Lu, you know Ava’s yours.’ Had Lucy not been in a serious car crash which had ruptured her womb and damaged both her ovaries, five years ago, she wouldn’t have needed an emergency hysterectomy at the age of twenty-seven, putting an end to any hope of having her own children naturally.

‘I know.’

Jenna’s frown deepened. ‘Please tell me whoever it was didn’t say something as vile as Danny did.’

‘No-o.’

Which meant they had and Lucy didn’t want to admit it. Jenna put her glass on the worktop and hugged her twin. ‘Listen to me, you numpty. I love Will dearly, but purely as a brother. I don’t fancy him and I never have. He doesn’t fancy me, either. He’d drive me absolutely crackers if I had to live with him and all his vague professor stuff—just as I’d drive him crackers by bossing him around and organising him down to the last second instead of letting him get away with it, the way you do. And I love you more than anyone else in the world, Lu. I offered to be your surrogate because I was the one person who could actually make things right again after the adoption agency turned you and Will down. I hated seeing you with a broken heart and I desperately wanted to be able to help you. Just as you would’ve done, if it had been me in your shoes. And you already know all that, Lu, so I don’t know why I need to tell you again.’

Lucy swallowed hard. ‘I know.’

‘So please don’t listen to some over-opinionated, thoughtless woman who clearly doesn’t have a clue what it’s like to be in that situation or care how she makes other people feel.’

Lucy swallowed hard. ‘But I do feel guilty, Jen. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be married to Danny by now.’

‘And we’d probably be divorced,’ Jenna pointed out dryly. ‘Marrying him would’ve been a huge mistake.’

Lucy frowned. ‘Would it? Because I worry that you’re lonely.’

‘I don’t need a partner to have a fulfilling life,’ Jenna said firmly. She wasn’t going to admit to her twin in a million years that yes, sometimes she did feel lonely, when she woke at three in the morning and couldn’t sleep. ‘And I definitely don’t need a partner who’s going to issue ultimatums every time I suggest something that doesn’t fit in with his world view. Any man who asks me to choose between him and you is going to lose—every single time.’ She sang a snatch from the old song ‘Sisters’, just to emphasise the point, and hugged Lucy again. ‘Danny lacked compassion. If anything, you did me a favour, because his reaction to the surrogacy is what made me finally realise that he saw everything in terms of financial cost.’

‘But being our surrogate lost you your relationship.’

‘Which wouldn’t have worked in the long run, believe me. I don’t want to be with someone who puts a price on everything and can’t see any value if it can’t be counted in cash. That isn’t how I see things, and that kind of attitude makes me really unhappy. Marrying Danny would’ve been a disaster.’

‘With the IVF treatment and the pregnancy, it cost you a year out of your career,’ Lucy persisted.

‘Which I can make up.’

‘And it hit your earnings.’

That had been one of Danny’s biggest arguments, and Jenna had despised him for it. Some things were way, way more important than money. Like her sister’s happiness. Family. Love. ‘I really don’t care about the money, Lu. I had savings, and you and Will helped out with my rent. We managed just fine. It isn’t an issue.’

‘You’ve got an answer for everything, haven’t you?’ Lucy asked with a sigh.

‘Yup. So, oh, best sister in the world, try to stop worrying about it and let me go and take a peek at my gorgeous niece—and I promise not to wake her.’

‘I love you,’ Lucy said.

‘I love you, too,’ Jenna said with a smile.

She tiptoed upstairs and crept into the nursery; Ava was fast asleep in her cot, with her hands thrown back over her head, looking totally angelic. Although Jenna had given birth to the baby, she’d always considered Ava as being Lucy’s, not hers. And the love she felt for Ava wasn’t that of a mother: it was that of a doting aunt. Which was just how it should be, in her view.

‘Sleep tight, my beautiful niece,’ she whispered, and tiptoed out of the nursery.

* * *

Back down in the kitchen, Will had joined Lucy and greeted Jenna with a hug.

‘Perfect timing,’ Lucy said with a smile, and served up.

Jenna took one mouthful and sighed in bliss. ‘You really do make the best lasagne in the world.’

‘And at least I know you’re going to eat properly when you have dinner with us on Monday nights,’ Lucy said.

‘I do eat properly,’ Jenna protested.

‘Not when you’re really busy on the ward, you don’t. You grab a chocolate bar or a bowl of cereal.’

Jenna grinned. ‘You do exactly the same when you’re up to your eyes in baseline assessments in the first three weeks of the new school year and Will’s forgotten the time and that it was his turn to cook that night.’

‘I don’t forget the time,’ Will protested.

The sisters looked at him and laughed. ‘Oh, you do, honey,’ Lucy said, and leaned over to kiss him. ‘Half the time you live in the first century, not the twenty-first.’

‘It’s my job,’ Will said. ‘And I’ll join Lu in nagging you about eating properly, too, Jen.’

‘Oh, give me a break!’ But Jenna was laughing, knowing that her brother-in-law meant well. ‘Now the new senior reg has started, it should be a bit less frantic on the ward.’

‘So what’s the new doctor like?’ Will asked.

‘He’s good with kids. He has two packs of cards in his pockets as distractions—one with cars and one with puppies. It came in handy today when we had a toddler who slipped on the stairs and banged his head badly enough to need stitches,’ Jenna said.

‘Cars,’ Will said dryly, ‘shouldn’t be gender specific.’

‘Agreed, and Renzo isn’t sexist. He says that girls also like cars.’ Jenna smiled. ‘But that might be because he’s Italian and he loves fast cars and thinks everyone else does, too. He and little Billy—the lad who needed stitches—were practically drooling over this sports car.’

‘I’d be drooling over that, too. Except we wouldn’t be able to fit a baby seat in it,’ Will said.

‘Italian,’ Lucy said thoughtfully.

‘No, no and no,’ Jenna said, knowing exactly what was going through her twin’s mind. Tall, dark and gorgeous. Which pretty much summed up Lorenzo Conti. She definitely wasn’t going to tell Lucy that he was single, because she knew her sister would go straight into matchmaker mode. ‘But he did agree to help at the danceathon.’

‘That’s good. Though I still feel guilty about not being able to make it,’ Lucy said.

‘You have Will’s niece’s wedding in Edinburgh. And Will’s parents need some catch-up time with Ava,’ Jenna reminded her. ‘You both gave me a massive donation and a raffle prize, so you’ve more than done your bit.’

‘We wanted to help,’ Will said.

‘And you have. A lot,’ Jenna said. ‘So how’s your day been, Will?’

‘Full of deciphering illegible student handwriting—I swear it’s twice as bad on exam papers,’ Will said with a groan.

‘Ah, the joys of May,’ Jenna teased, laughing; she knew how much her brother-in-law loved his job and he adored his students—just as they adored him.

It was the perfect family evening, and Jenna was thoroughly relaxed by the time she got home. Though she couldn’t quite get Lorenzo Conti out of her head. He’d been very adamant about being single and not looking for a partner; it sounded to her as if someone had really hurt him. Or maybe he’d lost someone to illness or an accident and didn’t want to risk his heart again because the loss had hurt him too much. Not that it was any of her business. And she absolutely wasn’t interested in anything other than a professional relationship with her new colleague. After Danny, as far as she was concerned, love was completely off limits. She didn’t trust her judgement any more, not after she’d got it so badly wrong with him. She had a family she adored and a job that fulfilled her. She was lucky. Wanting to have the same kind of closeness with someone that Lucy had with Will, and a baby of her own—that would just be greedy.

* * *

Jenna’s first patient in clinic the next morning, eight-year-old Maddie Loveday, was a puzzle.

‘It started six weeks ago,’ Maddie’s mum said. ‘She’d been at football club and came home with really red cheeks. It looked a bit like windburn, but it seemed a bit odd because it’s not that cold and windy at the end of April. Then she went down with a really nasty virus. It hit the whole family and even I was in bed for three days with it.’

A rash and a virus. Two things that were really hard to narrow down, and half the time there wasn’t an effective treatment and you just had to wait it out. Jenna smiled and waited for Mrs Loveday to continue.

‘The rash didn’t go away and it spread down her arms and legs. She said her legs hurt, she had pains in her tummy, and it hurt to swallow.’ Mrs Loveday grimaced. ‘Then she was really down and a bit weepy—which just isn’t my Maddie. I took her to the doctor.’

‘What did your GP say?’ Jenna asked.

‘He thought it might be allergic eczema, but my youngest has eczema and I’m really careful with laundry detergent and conditioner. Maddie’s never had any kind of reaction to food, and that rash didn’t look like any eczema I’ve ever seen.’ Mrs Loveday sighed. ‘I think he referred Maddie here just to shut me up.’

Seeing that she was close to tears, Jenna put a reassuring hand on her arm. ‘Mrs Loveday, when our mums tell us that their kids aren’t right, we listen. You’re the experts on your kids, so you know when there’s something wrong. It’s our job to listen and help you.’

‘Thank you.’ Mrs Loveday swallowed hard. ‘I know you can’t believe everything you read on the Internet, but I wondered if the rash was some kind of autoimmune thing.’

‘That’s a possibility,’ Jenna said. ‘Rashes have lots of different causes and they can be really tricky to diagnose. And you’re absolutely right not to believe everything you read on the Internet, because there are a lot of scaremongering stories out there.’ She turned to the little girl. ‘Maddie, is it OK if I examine you?’

Maddie nodded.

Jenna looked at the rash. Coupled with the pain in Maddie’s legs and tummy, and her difficulty in swallowing, the rash could well be a sign of an autoimmune problem, but Jenna wasn’t sure quite which one. ‘I’ve not seen a rash like this before,’ she said. ‘I think you’re right, Mrs Loveday, and it’s very likely an autoimmune disease. Do you mind if I have a quick discussion with one of my more senior colleagues?’

‘As long as you can find out what’s wrong with Maddie and make her better, then do whatever you need to,’ Mrs Loveday said.

Jenna headed for the offices. None of the consultants was around, but Lorenzo was in his office. Given that he was her senior and had three or four years’ more experience than she did, there was a chance that he’d seen a condition like Maddie’s before. She rapped on his office door. ‘Renzo, have you got a minute, please?’

‘Sure,’ he said.

‘How are you on autoimmune diseases?’

‘I’ve treated a few in my time,’ he said. ‘What are you looking at?’

‘I’m not entirely sure.’ She filled him in on Maddie Loveday’s medical history and symptoms. ‘I can see you’re busy, so I’m sorry to ask, but I’m a bit stuck. I don’t suppose I could borrow you to come and have a look at her, could I?’

‘Sure,’ he said, to her relief, and saved the file he was working on.

After Jenna had introduced him to the Lovedays, Lorenzo examined Maddie’s skin. ‘Mrs Loveday, has anyone talked to you about juvenile dermatomyositis or JDM?’ he asked.

Mrs Loveday looked surprised. ‘No. The GP just sent me here.’

‘It’s pretty rare, with about three in a million children being affected, and girls are twice as likely as boys to have it,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Basically “dermatomyositis” means inflammation of the skin and muscles, and from what Jenna’s already told me and what I can see here, it looks to me as if that’s what’s happening to Maddie.’

‘What causes it?’ Mrs Loveday asked.

‘We don’t actually know,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Jenna told me about Maddie’s virus, and in the cases we know of there was a virus involved.’

‘So how long does it last? Will it ever go away? Is she going to get worse?’ Mrs Loveday asked.

‘Sometimes a child has one episode of JDM that lasts for a couple of years and then goes away for ever; sometimes it comes back again after a few years of remission; and sometimes it doesn’t go away at all and needs managing for the rest of the child’s life,’ Lorenzo said. ‘I’m sorry to be so vague, but the way the condition develops really varies. What I can promise is that we’ll sort out some treatment so Maddie can live her life just as if she hasn’t got JDM.’

‘So what does this JDM do?’ Mrs Loveday asked.

‘It makes the muscles weaker and causes pain, so that’s why Maddie’s talked about her legs hurting and having tummy pains,’ Lorenzo said. ‘The inflammation tends to affect the large muscles around the hips and shoulders, so that means it’s harder for Maddie to walk, climb the stairs, get up from the floor or lift her arms. And it’ll make you tired, Maddie.’

The little girl nodded. ‘Since I got the rash and tummy pains, I can’t run as fast when I play football, and I’m really tired by the end of the match.’

‘So how do you treat it?’ Mrs Loveday asked.

‘Medication and physiotherapy. I’d like to admit her to the ward for now,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Maddie might need to stay for a couple of weeks so we can get her condition under control—we can give her some medication to help, but there will be other treatments as well. We’ll start with steroids at first and that’ll really help with her muscles and her skin.’

Mrs Loveday looked shocked. ‘Steroids? Isn’t that the stuff bodybuilders use?’

‘No, these are corticosteroids,’ Jenna explained. ‘They’re naturally produced by the body, too, and we use them to bring down inflammation—that will stop Maddie’s muscles hurting and it will also sort out the rash.’

‘We’ll also need to do some tests, including an EMG,’ Lorenzo said. ‘That’s a special scan which shows us the electrical activities in your muscles—and I promise it doesn’t hurt, Maddie.’

‘Good,’ the little girl said. ‘Because I really, really hurt right now and I hate feeling like this every day. I just want to play football.’

‘We’ll make it stop hurting,’ Jenna promised.

‘We have physiotherapists here who can teach you some exercises, Maddie, to make your muscles work better,’ Lorenzo said.

‘They’ll make you work hard,’ Jenna added, ‘but they’ll make it fun. You can come along, too, Mrs Loveday, and learn how to do the exercises at home with Maddie.’

‘Will they be like the exercises I do at football?’ Maddie asked.

‘Possibly,’ Jenna said.

‘Because I don’t want to stop playing football. I want to be a footballer when I grow up and be captain of the women’s team for England. I won’t have to stop playing, will I?’ she asked, looking miserable at the thought of giving up the sport she clearly loved more than anything else.

‘Definitely not,’ Lorenzo said. ‘And I know it’s horrible feeling so ill, but I reckon you timed getting ill just right—the football season’s over, so it means you won’t miss out on matches over the summer.’

‘But there’s football training camp in August. Will I be better for that?’ Maddie asked.

‘Right now, we don’t know how you’re going to respond to the treatment and if we’ll need to change your medication, but we’ll do our best to make you well enough for the camp,’ Jenna said.

‘Once we’ve got the rash and the pain under control with the steroids,’ Lorenzo said, ‘you might need some other medication, Maddie. We’ll see how things go, but you might need to have methotrexate injections once a week—the nurse should be able to do that at your family doctor’s surgery, so you won’t have to come back to hospital for it—and an anti-sickness medication.’

‘Steroids sometimes affect your bone density—that means how strong your bones are—so we’ll also need to give you special calcium and vitamin D supplements,’ Jenna said.

‘And, once you’re responding to the treatment, we’ll decrease the steroids gradually,’ Lorenzo explained. ‘If you do have a flare-up in the future, then we’ll know which drugs work best for you and we can make sure you get the right ones to treat any future episodes.’

‘You’ll need to make sure you use plenty of sun cream and wear a hat in the summer,’ Jenna added.

‘Coach always makes us put sun cream on before training,’ Maddie said.

‘That’s good. So we’ll admit you to the ward now,’ Lorenzo said, ‘and try and get you all ready for football camp. Once you’re home, we’ll see you every few months to see how you’re getting on and if we need to change your medication at all.’

Once Jenna had got one of the nurses to settle Maddie on the ward, she arranged the tests that Lorenzo had recommended. The EMG confirmed Lorenzo’s diagnosis; and she noticed that he gave up his lunch break to sit and chat to the little girl about football.

Lorenzo Conti was definitely one of the good guys.

She liked the way he worked, reassuring both their patients and their parents; and with him she really felt part of a team. It felt as if she’d worked with him for years, rather than only a couple of days. Which was crazy. She couldn’t have that kind of rapport with him so soon.

In their afternoon break, she caught him just as he was heading for the staff room. ‘I owe you cake for helping me with Maddie,’ she said.

‘You really don’t. I was just doing my job, the same as you,’ he said with a smile.

‘You taught me something new today and I appreciate that, plus I happen to know you didn’t have a lunch break—you spent it talking to Maddie about football,’ she pointed out.

He shrugged. ‘Maddie was fretting and I wanted to help her settle in to the ward. We had a fabulous argument about whether Italian football players were better than English ones, and that really cheered her up.’

Jenna could just imagine. Lorenzo had worked out the best way to take the little girl’s mind off her illness and played his part with gusto. He was the kind of colleague it was a joy to work with. ‘I just want to say thank you—I didn’t want you to think I’m taking you for granted,’ she said.

There was an odd expression on his face, but for so briefly that she thought she might have imagined it.

‘I know you’re not taking me for granted. We’re colleagues. I’m just doing my job,’ Lorenzo said. ‘You really don’t need to buy me cake.’

Then a really nasty thought hit her. Did he think that she was coming on to him? But she wasn’t. ‘I’d make the same offer to any of my colleagues who helped me like that,’ she said. ‘Regardless of gender or age.’ And she hoped he’d follow through with the rest: regardless of marital status, because it was a platonic offer rather than a come-on.

‘It’s fine,’ he said.

‘Well, thanks. I really did appreciate your help,’ she said. ‘I thought Maddie might have some kind of rheumatology issue, but I haven’t come across JDM before.’

‘To be fair, I’ve only seen one case, and I wasn’t the lead doctor in the case,’ Lorenzo said.

‘I’ll look it up in my books tonight after salsa class.’ She smiled. ‘Which is a double-win situation for me, because it means I can find out what I need to know for Maddie’s treatment, and revise for my paediatrics exams.’

Lorenzo stared at her. ‘You’re, what, three or four years younger than me?’

‘I’m thirty-two.’

‘Three years, then. I’m surprised you’re not through all your exams already.’

‘That’s because I took a year’s sabbatical,’ she said.

‘Sabbatical?’

His voice was soft and gentle, and Jenna almost confided in him about why she’d taken time off work. Then Danny’s voice echoed in her head: ‘You’re going to be a surrogate mum for your sister? That’s the most stupid idea I’ve ever heard. What about your career? How can you throw all that away just for a kid that you’re not even keeping?’

She didn’t think Lorenzo was anything like Danny, but the situation wasn’t exactly the easiest to explain. She didn’t want him thinking that either she was a saint—because she was far from that—or the naive idiot Danny had called her when she’d refused to give in to his haranguing. ‘Life throws up unexpected stuff, sometimes,’ she said with a smile, fudging the issue.

* * *

Lorenzo had seen Jenna work with their patients. He knew she was competent, and also she was confident enough to admit when something was outside her experience, as Maddie had been today—so he didn’t think she’d taken a year off because she’d been struggling with her work and needed to think about her future. So why had she taken a year’s sabbatical? Had it been a career break to have a baby, perhaps?

Though, in his experience, when his colleagues had children, they tended to talk about them. Jenna hadn’t said a word about having children of her own.

Maybe she’d had a child, then lost it.

He knew how that felt, and he didn’t talk about it. He could understand why someone just wouldn’t want the constant reminders of the empty spaces in their lives. So he wasn’t going to push her about it. Besides, she’d hit the nail on the head about his own situation. Unexpected stuff. In his case, it had been something he’d been too naive and stupid to work out for himself. That his wife had cheated on him with her ex, and the little girl he’d believed was his was actually another man’s daughter. ‘Very true,’ he said. ‘Life can be unexpected.’ And sometimes it took you a while to pick yourself up and dust yourself off again. ‘If you want anyone to test you on stuff before the exams, give me a yell.’

‘Thanks. That’s kind.’ She smiled at him, and he had to damp down the urge to lace his fingers through hers and suggest something more personal than simply exam revision.

This was ridiculous. They’d both said that they weren’t in the market for a relationship. After Georgia, he’d lost his capacity to trust.

Yet something about Jenna Harris drew him. Her warmth, her verve, her kindness.

He was going to have to be careful about this. Really careful.

Because he really didn’t want to risk his heart again.

CHAPTER THREE

BY THE END of Lorenzo’s first two weeks at Muswell Hill Memorial, he’d completely settled in to his new role. As Jenna had told him on the first day, the team on the ward was good to work with, and they were like a family. He’d already been to a team pizza night out, a weekend game of football in the park, and joined the ward’s quiz team—and the danceathon was happening at the weekend. It felt as if he’d been working at Muswell Hill for months rather than a matter of a few days.

The only thing he needed to deal with now was his inappropriate feelings towards Jenna.

Every time his hand brushed against hers at work, he felt a tingle all the way down his arm. When she smiled, it made his heart feel as if it had just skipped a beat. And this was crazy. He didn’t want to get involved and he knew that she didn’t, either.

He really didn’t understand why he was reacting to her in this way. It would be easier if she’d turned out to be a gossip, or an ambition-driven bitch who trampled on her colleagues to get a promotion—the kind of person he wouldn’t want to be within a mile of. But she was warm, sweet, great with their patients and parents, and he’d seen her patiently explaining something to one of the junior doctors.

* * *

And he had to admit he was attracted to her. Physically as well as intellectually. The problem was, he’d been here before with Georgia. He’d fallen in love with someone he thought loved him back—and she’d let him down in the worst possible way. He’d pretty much come to terms with the fact that Georgia had left him for someone else; although it had hurt, he could understand that if you loved someone that much it just took you over and you couldn’t help your feelings. But taking their daughter away had hurt him more deeply than anything he’d ever known. He had no intention of risking that sort of pain again.

Besides, for someone as nice as Jenna to be single and adamant that she wasn’t looking for a relationship, he’d guess that she’d been let down by someone in the past. Something to do with her year off work, perhaps. Not that he could be intrusive and ask.

So he’d have to keep his feelings under control. Remind himself that relationships weren’t for him, and he was Jenna’s colleague. Maybe they could become friends—but he wasn’t sure he could even handle that.

Strictly professional was the order of the day.

On Saturday afternoon, Lorenzo walked to the local high school and signed in, then followed the signs to the sports hall. Jenna was already there. He noticed that her hair was caught back in a scrunchie, the way it was at work, and he wondered what it would be like if she took the scrunchie out. Would her hair fall over her shoulders in wild curls?

Worst of all, he found himself wondering what her hair would look like spread over his pillow...

Oh, for pity’s sake. This was a charity danceathon. This wasn’t the time or the place to start fantasising about Jenna Harris. She was off limits and they had work to do. He shook himself mentally, then went over to her. ‘Reporting for duty, as promised,’ he said with a smile. ‘What do you need me to do?’

* * *

Jenna looked up at Lorenzo and her heart skipped a beat. Instead of the formal shirt, tie and dark trousers he always wore on the ward beneath his white coat, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It made him look younger and more approachable; and she was horrified to find that she was actually reaching out to put her hand on his arm.

Absolutely not.

This wasn’t the deal. He was helping out. He was here as a new colleague and nothing more. She needed to keep this strictly professional.

She shook herself. ‘Hi. Thanks for coming to help.’ He’d asked her what she wanted him to do. Her head was suddenly full of all sorts of inappropriate phrases. She managed to get a grip on herself—just—and said, ‘There’s a table over there with all the raffle prizes on it. If you wouldn’t mind taping raffle ticket numbers to the prizes, and then folding the rest of the raffle tickets for the box, that would be great.’ She handed him a book of raffle tickets and a roll of sticky tape; her fingers brushed against his and a shiver ran down her spine.

Was it her imagination, or had his eyes just widened slightly?

Or was she reading too much into it?

This really wasn’t the time or the place.

Tickets, she reminded herself sharply. ‘We’re just using the ones on the right-hand side of the ticket page that end in a zero to stick on the prizes, but all the left-hand tickets go in the box, folded so you can’t see the number.’

‘Which means there’s a one in ten chance of winning a prize. That sounds reasonable,’ he said, and went off to sort out the raffle table.

Nathan from the Emergency Department was helping the members of Maybe Baby to set up the stage and wire up the sound system ready for the sound check; the local pub was setting up the bar to one side of the hall; and a stream of parents of their former patients came over to her to check where she wanted the food set out.

All the time, Jenna was incredibly aware of Lorenzo’s presence. This was crazy. The last thing she needed in her life right now was any kind of complication. She was busy at work and with her studies, and she liked her life just as it was.

Yet a little voice kept echoing in her head. What if...?

What if she could have what Lucy had? Someone who loved her and a family of her own?

She shoved the thought away. Apart from anything else, she had the strongest feeling that Lorenzo had been hurt in the past—hence his insistence on not wanting a relationship. And, given the way her judgement had let her down so badly over Danny, how could she be sure that she wouldn’t be making just as much of a mistake with Lorenzo?

She was just going to have to ignore that little voice and listen to her common sense instead.

* * *

Once Lorenzo had sorted out the raffle tickets, he joined another team in setting out chairs for the people who’d just come to watch the dancing or who needed a break from the dance floor.

‘It’s really good of you to do this,’ Jenna said, coming over to him. ‘I feel a bit guilty, roping you in to help when you’ve been working at the hospital for barely a couple of weeks.’

‘It’s fine. I wasn’t doing anything special at the weekend anyway—plus it’s a nice way to get to know the team outside work,’ he pointed out.

‘It’s still appreciated,’ she said.

He had to muster every gram of professionalism when she smiled at him. What on earth was the matter with him? It was anatomically impossible for your heart to do a somersault, so feeling that it had just happened was utterly ridiculous. He needed to get a grip.

‘Is there anything else you need me to do?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘I’m just handing out the cash floats to the hospital-run stalls, and then I’m going to change into my dancing shoes.’

‘Then I’ll do my best to sell raffle tickets,’ Lorenzo said.

When the danceathon started, Lorenzo was surprised to discover just how good the band was. Keely, one of the senior nurses in their department, had a beautiful voice and could easily have made a career out of singing. Nathan, one of the porters in the Emergency Department, was the DJ who did an hour’s slot between each set the band played; and, in between sorting out the music, the band and the DJ all joined in with the dancing.

‘You’ve done more than your fair share on the raffle, Renzo. I’ll take over while you take a break. Go and have a dance,’ Laney, one of the nurses on their ward, said with a smile, taking the box of tickets and the cash box from him.

It looked as if he didn’t have much choice, even though dancing really wasn’t his thing. He stood on the edge of the dance floor, moving awkwardly to the music and wondering how long he’d have to be there before he could justifiably go back to the raffle table, and then Jenna was there beside him.

‘Hey. You’ve finally come to join us on the dance floor?’ she asked.

‘Laney bullied me into it. I did warn you that not all Italian men could dance and I have two left feet,’ he said with a rueful smile.

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