Valentino's Pregnancy Bombshell. Amy Andrews

of doing it again. But he could see she was close to the edge and that night, for now, was better off left in the past. He put his hands up in front to calm her.

      ‘I am a world-class cochlear surgeon. I’m head of the department in a large London hospital. I chair an international cochlear implant committee. I have performed this operation countless times on both children and adults. And…’ he placed his hands on his hips ‘…I am a damn good surgeon.’

      Paige shook her head, his arrogant stance and impressive credentials falling on deaf ears. He didn’t get it. He just didn’t get it. This was McKenzie.

      McKenzie.

      Her child. Did he think she would allow a total stranger to cut into her? Drill a hole in her head? Did he think that was an easy thing for her to consent to? Never mind allowing someone she didn’t know to do it?

      Still, she was torn. McKenzie needed the operation and if they delayed now, who knew how much longer it might be? Her heart broke, thinking about yet another delay for her beautiful baby girl locked into a world of silence. ‘I’ll wait. I’ll cancel and wait for Harry to return.’

      Valentino flinched inwardly, surprised that her rejection of his skills would feel so personal. He gave a stiff bow. ‘Of course, that is your prerogative.’

      Paige nodded. ‘Yes.’

      ‘It could be a long time,’ Valentino murmured. ‘Harry was talking about months, maybe a year if Ben needs extensive rehab.’

      The thought of McKenzie waiting that much longer was like an ice pick to her heart. She wanted to weep and wail and beat her chest. She shrugged instead, struggling for nonchalance, the effort nearly killing her. They’d waited this long…

      Valentino could see the abject disillusion written all over her face and shimmering in her big grey eyes. ‘Why don’t you hold off making a decision until after today? Watch me in action. Then tell me you don’t want me to operate on your daughter.’

      Paige couldn’t believe he would think it was quite that simple. ‘It’s not just about that, Valentino,’ she snapped. How were they supposed to have any kind of doctor/mother-of-patient relationship with their one-night-stand between them?

      God, why had she been so impulsive two months ago? She was never impulsive!

      Valentino regarded Paige, her implication clear. ‘I will treat McKenzie like any other child who is a patient of mine.’

      ‘And me?’

      Valentino shrugged. ‘Like any other mother.’ Liar. He stood still, waiting for the thunderbolt.

      ‘Oh? How many of the other mothers have you slept with?’

      Valentino gave a grudging smile. ‘I thought we weren’t talking about that?’

      Paige sighed, too weary and plain heartsick to respond properly. ‘No. We’re not.’ She glanced at him, 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!’ Paige spluttered. ‘He never mentioned retiring to me!’

      ‘He’s sixty-eight years old,’ Valentino calmly pointed out.

      ‘Yes, but…’ Harry talked to her about everything. And he still had so much to give, to contribute.

      ‘I’ve wanted to work in Australia for a while now,’ Valentino continued, his gaze on the little frown nestled between her caramel brows. ‘I think there are things I can learn here to take back home with me. I have my visa, all I need is the right job. I was attending a symposium in Melbourne—’

      ‘“Bionic Ear in the Twenty-First Century?”’ Paige enquired absently, not really caring. Harry had given a paper at it two days before.

      Valentino nodded. ‘Harry contacted me in the early hours of the morning and asked me to fill in. I got the five a.m. flight out of Melbourne.’

      ‘Oh.’ So they’d be working together too. 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 her throat. Wasn’t it her turn to catch a break?

      Valentino pushed off the bench opposite, which he’d propped himself against, and took three paces until he was standing in front of her. ‘Watch me today, Paige,’ he murmured. ‘Then we’ll talk.’

      Paige felt his husky tones wash over her, soothing the burn and the knot of worry that sat like an iron fist deep in her gut.

      And before she could refute him, rebuff him again, he turned away and she watched as he exited the anaesthetic room.

      So much for feeling positive. How could her day have gone to hell so early?

      It took about ten minutes into the first surgery to convince Paige of Valentino’s capabilities. He was, indeed, an extremely good surgeon. Efficient, steady, sure and capable. Methodical in his approach, supremely knowledgeable, unfailingly polite and, despite the mask and being covered head to toe in green, devilishly charismatic.

      There wasn’t one nurse he didn’t flirt with, including Di Hamilton, who’d been married for thirty-five years and had twelve grandchildren. It was obvious he adored women and Paige watched as every female fell under his spell.

      But he was a man’s man too. From the nervous surgical resident who was assisting to the orderly adjusting the theatre light, he won them all over, talking football and Australian beers and the price of petrol.

      They all loved him. Paige wished she could say the same. Between concentrating on her job, the thoughts circling in her head at a thousand miles an hour and the cataclysmic brush of his arm or fingers as she passed him an instrument, she was totally over him by the end of the day.

      Every breath, every move, every chuckle or low request for something stroked along her pelvic floor and took her right back to that night. Being under him. The way he’d felt inside her. Which only agitated her even more. She had bigger things to worry about. Like poor Harry and his grandson. And McKenzie.

      It was like she was in a bubble with him, just the two of them, everyone else fading into insignificance. She knew that was the way it often was between surgeon and scrub nurse, requiring a special kind of synchronicity. But it was more than that and she knew it. She’d anticipated Harry’s every move in Theatre for the last two years but had never felt this more base reaction.

      She just wanted out. To get as far away from St Auburn’s and Valentino Lombardi as possible. To hug McKenzie and remember what was real in her life and what was fantasy.

      When the last op was finished, Paige couldn’t get out of her gown quickly enough. Thankfully Valentino had left the theatre to go and do post-op checks in the wards and she was able to breathe again. To function without a pulse that kept racing and a stomach that wasn’t looping the loop. To clean up. To do her job.

      She was back in the audiology department thirty minutes later, making notes in patient charts, very aware that she had the next six weeks off and conscientious enough to ensure everything was up to date on today’s operative cases.

      ‘Here you are. Gloria said you’d be here.’

      Paige’s heart gave a jolt and she braced herself as she looked up from her chart. He was lounging in the doorway in trousers and business shirt, open at the neck and turned up at the cuffs, looking dark and tousled and incredibly sexy.

      ‘You have hat hair,’ she commented, before casting her eyes downwards again.

      Valentino chuckled, ruffling his locks. ‘Yes.’ He guessed that was one of the advantages to her pixie cut. Not a lot of hair there to get bent out of shape.

      ‘I thought you might