The Italian Surgeon's Secret Baby. Sue MacKay

lay, cast in so much plaster he wouldn’t be moving for the foreseeable future.

      ‘Too damned close.’ Mattia Ricco, the surgeon, scowled. ‘Can everyone ask their favourite child-whisperer or whatever to watch over this kid? He’s going to need all the help going and some.’

      ‘Sure will.’ One of the other nurses grimaced over her shoulder as she left the theatre, closely followed by most of the team.

      Beep. Once again the heart monitor was telling them Joe had gone into arrest.

      Mattia swore as he snatched up the paddles. ‘Stand back.’

      Elene’s own heart stalled. ‘So not fair.’ The little guy had arrested twice during the hours of surgery he’d just undergone to deal with two fractured legs and one smashed arm, and to wire his jaw back together.

      His little body jerked upwards as Mattia applied an electric jolt.

       Beep. Beep. Beep.

      ‘I’ll tell you what’s not fair,’ Mattia growled. ‘A mother driving through the city on a busy Friday night with her son lying down on the back seat asleep instead of belted securely into a car seat.’

      He was right. Why would any loving parent do that? The drunk driver who took out the car at speed might not be Joe’s mother’s fault, but surely not protecting her child was? Elene swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. She understood Mattia’s need to let rip, and as there was only her and the anaesthetist to hear him he was safe from condemnation. ‘I’ll take Joe through to Recovery and bring them up to speed on what’s been happening.’

      ‘I’m coming with you,’ Mattia muttered. ‘Not because I think you need me to fill in the gaps as you report everything, but I’m reluctant to hand him over until I know his heart’s not going to stop again.’

      Exactly her feelings. ‘It’s hard, but he’ll be monitored and looked after as well as he was in here. No one’s going to take their eyes off him for a long while.’

      Forty minutes later Mattia said. ‘The obs are the best they’ve been, though not how I’d like them.’ He turned to Elene. ‘Coffee? I want to be within calling distance in case...’

      No surprise there. The Italian specialist on contract for a year had won the admiration of all Wellington’s orthopaedic department’s staff for his dedication and high standards. He’d also won the heart of every female in the whole hospital with his good looks and charisma, including hers. ‘Tea for me.’ She followed him into the cramped space that was the staff tea room beside the theatre. In her head she could still see Joe’s little face smothered in the mask supplying him with oxygen and the small body being gently put back together. The heart failures. She wasn’t ready to be alone with her thoughts. ‘Who’d be a parent?’

      ‘It’s enough to put you off, I’ll agree.

      ‘But hell.’ Mattia rammed his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. ‘A five-year-old having cardiac arrest is beyond description. How was I going to tell his parents if we hadn’t brought him back?’ His Italian accent had thickened, making his words harder to decipher.

      Elene’s stomach turned to acid. ‘This is when I wonder if I’ve chosen the right job. I hate having to be a part of so much agony and distress.’ She’d spoken in Italian without thought. Reverting to English, her native tongue, she continued, ‘Not even saving Joe takes away the nightmare of what we witnessed tonight.’ Quickly spooning coffee granules into one mug and dropping a teabag into another, Elene tried to find something good to think about.

      ‘Don’t believe that. You’re an exceptional nurse. We all have those doubts at times like this.’ Mattia reached around her with the milk.

      ‘Yeah,’ she sighed. ‘I guess.’ A hint of the wild tickled her nose. Aftershave? Nope, there was light stubble on that sexy chin behind her. She tried to step away to put a gap between them and bumped against Mattia’s chest. A solid, muscular wall that filled his scrubs top to perfection. Jerking away, she moved again, only to find him standing rock-solid in front of her, those intense dark eyes locked on hers—with something like lust spiralling through them. Did he need to blot out the last two hours too? In an instant common sense deserted her as excitement rose, filling her lungs, her stomach, her centre—tipping her forwards, towards that body she’d eyed more than once with a sense of wonder. Shutting down everything but the need to press close and feel—feel his strength, the tone of his worked-out muscles, his sex, to forget the horrendous scenes imprinted on her brain.

      Hands were on her waist, bringing her closer to her goal. Firm, warm, sensual hands. Then she forgot the hands as Mattia’s head descended until his lips were close, so close, teasing, flirting—waking her up as she hadn’t been in all the years since she’d left her ex. As she hadn’t wanted to be for fear she’d repeat the same mistakes. But this was Mattia, the man she’d lusted after, and therefore argued with often to keep him at arm’s length, for the eleven months he’d been working here.

       This is the man your best friend’s currently having a fling with.

      Elene jerked out of those hands, away from that provocative mouth that could start her on a path to somewhere she must not go, and cursed the day he’d left Italy to work in New Zealand.

      * * *

      Mattia breathed deep, filling his depleted lungs and tightening his gut. Not for a nanosecond did his gaze leave Elene’s face. She was swallowing as if her life depended on getting fluid down her throat. Her eyes were wide and filled with guilt. Guilt that was now creeping into his mind. While technically it wasn’t a full-on relationship that would lead to something permanent, he was in the midst of a fling with another nurse, Danielle. Despite the casualness of their liaison he would not seek out another woman until it was over—probably at the end of his contract in four weeks.

      But he’d come so close to kissing Elene. Too damned close. Driven by the need to blank out images of young Joe on the table, his heart stopping, his smashed bones, his innocence—yeah, damn it, falling into a kiss with a beautiful woman, even an out-of-bounds one, seemed the perfect distraction. Except it wasn’t. She was right to pull away.

      ‘Forget the coffee. I’m heading to PICU.’ Hopefully the lad who had his mind going off track was now in there.

      ‘No problem,’ Elene answered in a tone that suggested it very much was.

      He paused at the door. ‘I apologise for my actions. I’m involved with your friend. It was wrong of me.’ Playing the field didn’t mean being callous and uncaring. He understood too well how that hurt others. Not that his ex-fiancée had done that to him. No, she’d found another way to decimate him, but despite the anger he’d never taken up deliberately hurting other women to ease his own pain. At the moment, Danielle was his latest conquest so other women were off-limits. Unfortunately. Because that near kiss—He’d never know. Yet now he understood why Elene had subconsciously been plaguing him on and off over the past months. She was hot, therefore dangerous to his equilibrium. But he was not about to change his thinking on women and relationships, not because this one set his heart racing as if it were being chased by a greyhound.

      ‘I—’ Her throat rose around another swallow. ‘If you’re apologising then I owe you one too. That shouldn’t have happened. It certainly won’t again. I can’t believe I nearly let you kiss me.’ She paused, drew a breath. ‘I can only put it down to wanting to get as far away from the last two hours as possible.’

      The two women were close, probably had an agreement not to look at each other’s men, let alone kiss them. He stepped through the door, keen to get away and put this behind him. ‘Elene, it’s okay. Best we forget it ever happened though.’ Like how? ‘Believe it or not, I don’t want to hurt Danielle any more than you do.’

      Her head dipped. ‘So we’ll go back to being thoroughly professional around each other and no one will be any the wiser.’

      He couldn’t tell if that was relief or disappointment