Married By Christmas. Оливия Гейтс

then what had seemed impossible had happened. Antonio had fallen in love. Violently, irrevocably. And Liliana, the woman who’d created a heart inside him to worship her with—in his friend’s own words—had discovered the truth. That he’d started their relationship as a plot to infiltrate their joint family, to destroy them from within. Liliana now believed he’d never loved her, had only proposed as means to an end. Devastated at the discovery, she’d run away from his efforts to explain...and she’d almost been fatally injured in doing so. After spiraling through ten different kinds of hell as he’d operated on her, too, he’d saved her life. But clearly, not her love. Liliana’s rejection seemed final.

      Now Antonio, the surgeon with nerves of steel, was a total mess. Which could actually work to Ivan’s advantage right now.

      The old Antonio, whose emotions never played a role in his actions and decisions, would have turned down his demand, since there was no medical merit to it. But Antonio the emotional volcano might sympathize with his plight and do what Ivan wanted.

      And what he wanted was to postpone Anastasia rejoining the world, and her family.

      Shaking his head, Antonio said, “I have already kept her longer than necessary, to be on the safest side possible. There’s now no medical reason not to let her go back to her life.”

      A shiver ran down Ivan’s spine. Antonio’s voice now was the scariest thing he’d ever heard. Such barely contained instability from the most controlled being he’d ever known.

      He only hoped dragging Antonio into his own concerns would distract him from dwelling on his regrets and the loss of the woman who’d become his only reason for living.

      “Listen, Tonio, I’m eternally grateful for what you’ve done for...Anastasia.” It was still hard to say her name, even to Antonio. He hadn’t told him a thing about her until she’d realized her surgeon didn’t even know her name and provided him with it. “I’m thankful that she has healed enough for you to think she should be discharged—” He grabbed Antonio’s arm when he turned away. “But I’m still demanding you don’t do it.”

      Irritation flickered in Antonio’s eyes at Ivan’s detainment. “And you’re not going to give me a reason for your demand?”

      Ivan’s fingers dug harder into Antonio’s steel arm in frustration. “My asking it should be reason enough for you.”

      Antonio finally took exception to Ivan’s effort to coerce him, prying his hand off his arm with equal vehemence. “It was when you were asking me to help her. I didn’t need to know anything then. I was willing to wait forever for you to tell me why she and her brother were shot or who they are to you. But now you’re asking me to lie to her, to keep her here against her will.”

      “Who says it would be against her will?”

      “She does. She wants to leave.”

      “She wants no such thing. And she certainly said nothing to you. I was there every second you were with her.”

      A ghost of the teasing they’d always engaged in from childhood came into Antonio’s gaze. “Yeah, that you were. But I let you sit in during my checkups only as a courtesy to you as my best friend, against my professional and better judgment.” Any hint of that indulgence vanished, and he started moving past him. “So don’t push your luck, Ivan.”

      Ivan grabbed both his arms this time. He wasn’t letting him walk away. “I’m pushing more than that, Tonio. You might think she’s ready to leave based on her physical condition, but I know what’s best for her.”

      Antonio gave the hands digging into his flesh a disdainful look. “It’s clear your need to keep her here is blinding you to her needs. But I feel her need to leave.”

      “You might be an unequaled genius, Tonio, but not even you are omniscient. Hell, you didn’t even suspect what your own lover would feel if she knew the truth.”

      The moment the words were out, Ivan could have happily cut off his own tongue. The surge of self-loathing that came into Antonio’s eyes would remain one of his stupidest, cruelest mistakes.

      Ivan dropped his hands to his side, exhaled heavily. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

      Antonio waved his qualification away. “I did know how she’d feel and that’s why I hid the truth. That was my mistake.”

      “I’m not making one. She needs to stay here longer.”

      “If you think so, then you’re having a serious judgment malfunction. She may not have asked to be discharged, but I sense she can’t wait to bolt from here.” Before Ivan could flay him with another contradiction, Antonio folded his arms over his white-coated chest. “Let me remind you that your specialty is ending lives, not saving them like me. Including yours, many times as I recall. So I’m the expert here.”

      “Not where Anastasia is concerned.”

      “Actually, in her case, your verdict is even more suspect, since you’re clearly what I thought was impossible—emotionally involved. Even if it’s in a way I can’t fathom. It makes you even more ineligible to make decisions on her behalf.”

      Ivan felt his frustration rising to a suffocating level as his friend’s eyes emptied of all agitation and became ice-cold blue.

      Great. In his attempt at taking Antonio’s mind off his estranged lover, he’d only brought out the immovable surgeon in him. To his own detriment.

      He exhaled, pissed off at himself, at Antonio and all of existence. “Is this your roundabout way of forcing me to tell you about my involvement with her? You think you’ve found the best leverage to satisfy your curiosity?”

      Antonio gave a disgusted shrug. “Right now I couldn’t care less if the whole world, including you, disappeared, ended or even went to hell. But the one thing still functioning about me is my surgeon side.” Yeah, like Ivan had just thought. “Professionally, I am obliged to tell her she’s well enough to go. After that, she can choose to stay longer, or you convince her to stay. But I will tell her the truth. I won’t let you hold her hostage to your own ends and convictions.” Ivan started to protest, but Antonio raised a hand in a gesture of finality. “Either you give me a good enough reason not to discharge her, Ivan, or get out of my way.”

      So this was it. The only way Antonio would budge now was if Ivan played his last card. Much as he hated it, he had to tell him everything.

      “Fine, I’ll give you the reason.” Feeling as if he was about to jump off a cliff, he inhaled a bolstering breath. “Got something stronger than coffee around here?”

      Antonio turned away and started walking back toward his office. “I have medical-grade alcohol.”

      He fell into step with him. “Yeah, I forgot for a second there that you don’t drink.”

      “Even if I did, I wouldn’t keep my vices around my place of work.”

      “Yeah, well, for me to finally tell you what happened in my life before we met, we’ll probably both need something.”

      “I have intravenous morphine.” Antonio walked through his door, left Ivan to close it behind them. “Though I probably need sodium pentothal if I want anything approaching the truth. The maximum dose, for an elephant. You’re the most drug-resistant ogre I’ve ever encountered.”

      Ivan threw himself on the black leather couch while Antonio sat in his preferred armchair. “Still harping on when you wasted three times the dosage of anesthetic to put me under when you had to pull the shrapnel out of my thigh? I’d told you to do it with me awake. You’re the one who wouldn’t listen.”

      “I’ll listen now.” Antonio leaned forward and reached for the carafe on the table, poured one cup of black coffee. Ivan knew it was for him when Antonio added three spoons of sugar, as he knew he took it.

      Grumbling that it was a poor substitute for Scotch, he took