Peyton’s heart sank. The thought of McKenzie waiting that much longer was like an ice pick to her heart. She wantedto weep and wail and beat her chest. She shrugged instead, struggling for nonchalance, the effort nearly killing her.
They’d waited this long, hadn’t they?
For long moments neither of them said anything, but Peyton stood tall beneath the scrutiny of his gaze roving over her face as if searching for a way he could convince her to change her mind.
‘What about this?’ he said eventually. ‘Don’t make a decision yet. Watch me in action this morningthentell me you don’t want me to operate on your daughter.’
‘It’s not just about that,’ she snapped. Did he really think it could be that simple? How were they supposed to have any kind of doctor/mother-of-patient relationship with their one-night stand between them?
God,whyhad she been so impulsive two months ago?Why?She was never impulsive!
Clearly picking up what she was putting down, he was quick to reassure. ‘I will treat McKenzie like any other child who is a patient of mine.’
‘And me?’ Peyton would have given anythingnotto say the quiet part out loud, but itwasthe elephant in the room.
‘Like any of the other mothers.’
‘Oh?’ It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. ‘How many of them have you slept with?’
He gave a grudging smile. ‘I thought we weren’t talking about that?’
Peyton sighed, too bloody heartsick at the moment to respond properly. ‘We’re not.’
How was it possible for him to be the epitome of cool, calm and collected, while she felt all at sea? There was still so much she couldn’t wrap her head around. ‘I don’t understand how you’re even here, now… in the country.’
‘Harry interviewed me months ago. He’s thinking of retiring?—’
‘Retiring?’ Peyton spluttered. What? ‘He never mentioned retiring to me!’
‘He’s sixty-eight years old.’
Valentino’s voice was calm but Peyton could hear the impliedduh. ‘Yes, but…’ Harry and her talked shop – a lot. Why wouldn’t he saying anything?
And he still had so much to give.
‘I’ve wanted to work in Australia for a while now,’ he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted him. ‘Alessandro sings its praises constantly and I think there are things I can learn here. I’ve had a visa for a while now, I’ve just been waiting for the right job and I was attending a symposium in Melbourne?—’
‘“Bionic Ear in the Twenty-First Century”?’ Peyton enquired absently, not really caring. Harry had given a paper at it two days before.
He nodded. ‘Harry contacted me in the early hours of the morning and asked me to fill in. I got the 5a.m. flight out of Melbourne.’
‘I see.’ This wasn’t how it was supposed to pan out. None of it was. But then, when had her life gone according to plan over the last three years? Bitterness rose like bile in Peyton’s throat.
When would it be her turn to catch a break?
Pushing off the bench opposite, Valentino took three paces until he was standing in front of her and Peyton had no choice but to look at him. ‘Watch me today, Peyton,’ he urged, his voice low but confident. ‘Then we’ll talk.’
His husky tones washed over her, soothing the knot of worry that sat like an iron fist deep in her gut, and she found herself nodding. Mostly because it would bring an end to this damn conversation.
Satisfied, he gave her another of his small smiles. ‘See you shortly?’
‘Sure.’
He left then and Peyton sucked in a deep, steadying breath. So much for her positive start. How could her day have gone to hell so early?
Peyton was so relieved when their last case was done she almost kissed the ground. Standing close to Valentino for hours had been excruciating. Every breath he’d taken – every move, every chuckle or low request for something – had stroked invisible fingers low on her belly and taken her right back to that night.
Being under him. Over him. How good it had felt to have himinsideher.
