The Italian Surgeon Claims His Bride

‘I’m still learning. You taught me a lesson, Jenna. I never want to see a bag in my hallway again.’

Paul was bent over so far he had to be hurting his back. Ella had been standing beside a couch as he’d entered the lounge and he had responded to the commanding little hand that waved at him. Now he was holding both Ella’s hands as she stood in front of him, beaming and swaying.

‘I imagine the phone woke her. I have to go in to the hospital. That little girl I told you about seems to be running into trouble. Liver failure.’
‘Oh…I’m sorry. I’d better not hold you up.’
‘No. Sleep well, Jenna.’

was met by a distinctly stony stare.
But something had changed.
Despite most probably hating her, Paul was still drawn back to the nursery as soon as he returned home that evening. He looked very tired.

‘She had an unsettled night.’
‘Yes. I heard her crying.’
Had Paul been as aware of her through the wall as she had been of him? ‘I hope it didn’t disturb you too much.’
‘I’m quite used to being disturbed at night.’ But Paul was looking uncomfortable now. He cleared his throat. ‘It’s good that you stayed with her. My mother is getting too old to be up and down all night to Danielle.’
Not that Jenna would dare say it aloud but the thought that Paul might consider getting up to comfort his daughter himself couldn’t be repressed.

‘Not many surgeons play with their patients,’ Jenna continued warmly.
‘I love these children,’ Paul said simply. ‘Their welfare is my life.’

He’d had an hour of interacting with his colleagues as they’d instituted new management for Jessica’s case and he still felt drained himself.

‘I am fine, Paolo. You were so late last night—I was worried about you!’
‘I came to visit Danielle. And then I had another call. It was so late by then, I decided to sleep here.’
He can’t have had more than a couple of hours’ sleep, Jenna realised. Why didn’t he look as jaded and dishevelled as she was feeling?

Paul sat down again on the upright spare chair and this time he sat on it properly, as though he intended to stay there.

His eyelids looked heavy—rather like Ella’s had looked just before she’d succumbed to sleep. The lines around his eyes were deeper than normal and his chin heavily shadowed with stubble. Paul had to be even more tired than she was. She hadn’t been on her feet since before 6 a.m., dealing with major surgery and emergencies. But he wasn’t going to sit back and watch what needed to be done now. His hands slid beneath Ella to lift her gently.