Like Cinder-freaking-ella.
Ask Peyton.That’s what Harry had answered on numerous occasions throughout their phone call as Valentino had asked the immediate questions he’d needed to know in order to step into Harry’s shoes.
He’d also requested that Valentinobreak it to her gently.Those had been his exact words. Something he hadn’t understood until it had become clear from her visceral reaction to the news that she wasn’t just the person Harry relied on most at work but that the two of them obviously had a very close personal relationship.
It had been unexpectedly hard watching her grapple with her emotions. Her shock and sadness over the terrible news clashing with her disappointment and anxiety over the deeper implications relating to her daughter.
In that moment, it had been difficult to remember Peyton was the woman who, the morning after their hotel romp, Valentino had decided to firmly relegate to his past. A pleasant –verypleasant – interlude for sure but one he’d been determined to forget.
Life, though – in that way of it all – had decided differently.
And Valentino, fool that he was, had stupidly thought he was prepared for seeing her again this morning. He had, after all, unlike her, been forewarned. But nothing could have been further from the truth. He’d been totally sucker-punched as her big grey eyes, round with shock, had met his and he’d been tossed straight back to the night of Alessandro’s wedding.
Even in a pair of baggy scrubs, her fresh face devoid of make-up, her hair covered in a sexless blue theatre hat, his body had responded as hotly, as urgently, as it had to that backless dress.
But worse than that had been the realisation that he actuallyhadn’tforgotten one single second of their time together.
It was there, a living, breathing torment in his head, playing on loop.
Even more calamitous, with her standing in front of him in that anaesthetic room, his loins stirring at the memory of them, had been the certainty that Peyton wasn’t a one and done.
That he wanted more.
Which wasn’t exactly conducive to a good collegial rapport. Nor the kind of professional relationship he always maintained with parents of his paediatric patients.
Dio!Why did it have to be Peyton?
He was still asking himself that question as he pulled up short in the doorway to the department. Peyton was sitting at the reception desk, studiously writing in what appeared to be charts. She wore a plain, light green T-shirt now with a V-neck and an audiology logo stamped to the left of the V where a pocket might normally sit.
It was stupid but just seeing her made him smile. Remembering their uncanny telepathy during the morning theatre list made him smile even bigger. Whether they liked it or not – and hedidlike it – the universe had bigger plans for them, intertwining their pathways for the foreseeable future.
And the thought of that made him really smile.
Sure, for two people who’d only ever officially met twice, their relationship was already ridiculously complicated. But their chemistry – both in the operating theatre and between the sheets – didn’t give a damn about complicated.
‘Hard at work, I see,’ he said from the doorway, stifling a smile as her pen stilled briefly mid-sentence before re-commencing.
‘Charts wait for no man.’
‘Harry said you were efficient.’
‘I’m off for six weeks after today.’ She looked up from her work, her eyes fixing him with grey steel. ‘I want to make sure everything’s up to date.’
Valentino remembered Harry mentioning Peyton’s leave of absence to look after her daughter post-op. He knew he should be relieved that there would be some separation for them. That the blurring of lines between work and personal would be delayed but, after how amazing they’d been together in the OR today, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
‘You have hat hair,’ she commented, before casting her eyes downwards again.
Valentino blinked at her bold statement before chuckling, his hand ruffling through hair he hadn’t bothered to do anything with after he’d removed his theatre cap. If that was Peyton’s way of discouraging him, she clearly did not know him well enough yet.
Lesser men might have baulked at her disinterest but Valentino Lombardi had never been a lesser man.
‘I thought you might like to know that Ben’s condition has stabilised.’
‘Oh!’ She glanced up quickly, her tight expression softening as it flooded with relief. ‘That’s good news! I’ve tried to ring Harry a few times but it keeps going to his message bank.’
Valentino supposed that if anyone knew what it was like to watch your child critically ill in an intensive care unit on life support, it was Peyton. Alessandro had filled him in on her backstory before the wedding, mentioning McKenzie’s long stint in NICU and how she’d had a twin sister who hadn’t made it as well as her husband leaving.
It was a lot for one person to bear and his admiration for her grew.
