Annie O'Neil – Tempted By The Bridesmaid (страница 7)

Another deep hit of pride struck him in the chest as he watched her execute a crazy three-point turn any Paralympian would have been hard-pressed to rival and then punch up into the morning sunshine, shouting positive affirmations.

“Never let her down. You’re all she has now.”

The words pounded his conscience as if he’d heard them only yesterday. His sister’s last plea before her fight for survival had been lost.

His little ray of sunshine.

A furnace blast of determination was more like it.

Pia wanted—needed—to prove to herself that she could do everything on her own. Her C5 vertebra fracture might have left her paralyzed from the waist down, but it hadn’t crushed her spirits as she’d powered through the initial stages of recovery at the same time as dealing with the loss of her parents and grandparents all in one deadly car crash. She had even spoken of training for the Paralympics.

And then early-onset rheumatoid arthritis had thrown a spanner in the works. Hence the dog.

They both scanned the approaching roads. One from the north, the other from the south and their own road—a straight line from the civita to the sea, right in the middle. There was the usual collection of delivery vehicles and medical staff preparing the facility for its opening. And inspectors. Endless numbers of inspectors.

He was a doctor, for heaven’s sake—not a bureaucrat.

“Just think, Pia...in one short week that road and this sky will be busy with arriving patients. Ambulances, helicopters...”

She let out a wistful sigh. “Friends!”

“Patients,” he reminded her sternly, lips twitching against the smile he’d rather give.

“I know, Uncle Luca. But isn’t it part of the Clinica Mont di Mare’s ethos that rehab covers all the bases. And that means having friends—like me!”

“Remember, chiara, they won’t all be as well-adjusted and conversation starved as you.”

He gave her plaits a tug, only to have his hand swatted away. She was sixteen. Too old for that sort of thing. Too young to find him interesting 24/7. Having other teens here would be good for her.

“They’re all in wheelchairs, right?”

“You know as well as I do they are. And thank you for being a guinea pig for all the doctors here in advance of their coming.”

“Anything for Mont di Mare!” Pia’s face lit up, then just as quickly clouded. “Do you think they’ll try to take my dog? The other patients, I mean? What if they need the dog more than I do?”

Luca shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. This is solely for you.”

“What if they get jealous and want one, too?”

“That’s a bridge to cross further down the line, Pia. Besides,” he added gently, “they’ll have their families with them.”

“I have you!” Pia riposted loyally.

“And I have you.” He reached out a hand and she met it for a fist bump—still determined to make him hip.

Hard graft for Pia, given everything he’d been dealing with over the past few months in the lead-up to opening the clinic. Endless logistics. Paint samples. Cement grades. Accessibility ramps. Safety rails. And the list went on. It was as if he was missing a part of himself, not being able to practice medicine.

It’s what your family would have wanted. You’re doing it for them. Medicine will wait.

“Do you think that’s her?” Pia’s voice rose with excitement.

In the distance they could see a sky blue 4x4 coming along the road from the north, with a telltale blinking light. It was turning left.

“Can’t you remember anything about her at all?” Pia looked up at him, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Sorry, amore. Beatrice didn’t say much. Just said it was a friend she’d stake our own friendship on.”

“Wow! Beatrice is an amazing friend. That means a lot. Not like—” Pia stopped herself and grimaced an apology. “I mean, Marina was never really very nice anyway! You deserve better.”

He grunted. There wasn’t much to say on the matter. Not anymore. His thoughts were all for Bea and her privacy. He’d offered her a cottage up here at Mont di Mare, but she’d said she needed some serious alone time.

“Do you know what Dr. Murro and I called Marina?” Pia asked, a mischievous smile tweaking at the edges of her sparkle-glossed lips.

He shook his head. “Do I want to know?”

“Medusa!” She put her hands up beside her head and turned them into a tangle of serpents, all the while making creepy snake faces.

“Charming, chiara. Next time you go to the gym to work with Dr. Murro, please do tell him that perhaps a bit less chat about my defunct love life and a splash more work might be in order.”

“Zio!” Pia widened her big puppy-dog eyes. “We can’t help it if she was horrible.”

Luca gave one of her plaits another playful tug. Just what a man needed. To find out that no one liked his girlfriend all along. Then again...being upset about Marina was pretty much the last thing on his mind. Making the clinic a running, functioning entity was most important.

Six months. That was how far what little money he had left would last before the bank made good on their promise to repossess what had been under his family’s care for generations.

Pia shrugged unapologetically, then pulled the pair of binoculars she always had looped around her neck up to her eyes, to track the car that was still making its way toward the turnoff to Mont di Mare.

“I hope Freda looks exactly like she did in the pictures Bea forwarded. And Edison. He’s definitely a he, and Freda’s a she, but I’m glad the trainer is a she, too.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’ll be nice to have a grown-up friend.”

“You have me!”

“I know, but...” Her eyes flicked away from his.

She’d always been so good about making him feel worthy of the enormous role of caring for her. And yet at moments like these...he knew there were gaps to be filled.

“It’ll be nice to have a girl to talk to about...you know...things.”

Luca looked away. Of course she could do with a woman in her life. Someone to fill even a small portion of the hole left when her mother had been killed in that insane accident. A massive truck hurtling toward them from the other side of the tunnel with nowhere else to go...

“Zio! I think I see Freda!”

“Who’s Freda?”

“Freda’s the dog!”

“Right.”

“And it is a her! She’s a her!”

“Who? The dog?”

“The trainer!”

Pia was clapping with excitement now and Luca couldn’t help but crack a smile. His first genuine one in the last twenty-four hours.

“Zio! Comb your hair. She’s almost here!”

Luca laughed outright. Fat lot of good a comb would do with the rest of him covered in sawdust and paint.

A far cry from his Armani-suited and booted days at his consultancy in Rome. The one none of his colleagues had been able to believe he’d just up and leave for a life in the hinterlands. He wouldn’t have wished the life lessons he’d had to learn that night on anyone. His cross to bear. The suits were moth food as far as he was concerned.

He tugged both hands through his hair and messed it up werewolf-style.

“Suitable?”

Pia gave his “makeover” the kind of studious inspection to which only a sixteen-year-old could add gravitas, then rolled her eyes.

“It’s not my fault if you’re a fashion plate,” he teased.

“I’m trying to save you from yourself,” Pia shot back. “What if she’s a beautiful blonde and you fall in love?”

“Nice try, Pia. I’m officially off the market.”

“Officially off your rocker, more like,” she muttered with an eye roll. “Look! They’re turning onto the bridge!”