The Italian Surgeon Claims His Bride. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.
by Louise, she would be lost to us and that would be…a tragedia.’
Dark brown eyes that had not faded with age were swimming with tears. ‘It’s not for me,’ Maria said. ‘And it’s not just that Louise doesn’t share the same things of importance in raising a bambino. It’s because Ella needs her papa. And he needs her. He just hasn’t realised it yet.’
In other words, Jenna would be stepping into an emotional minefield. The passions of an Italian family on the one side and a cold and determined woman, possibly obsessed with the memory of her daughter, on the other. Hardly the easy job she had anticipated but it wasn’t going to be pleasant to disappoint someone who clearly cared so much about the best interests of others. Especially when one of those ‘others’ was a baby girl who had no idea of the undercurrents in the world around her.
That concern for others made the reminder of her own mother stronger than ever. Jenna had wanted to help her mum so badly but had been unable to do any more than make her last few months as comfortable as possible.
She could help Maria, though.
‘I’ll have to think about it,’ she said slowly.
‘Of course.’ But Maria’s shoulders slumped a little and she muttered something inaudible in Italian. Then she blinked away the remainder of her tears. ‘Come back to the lounge for a moment. Paolo promised he would try and get home in time to meet you so you would not have to come back for another interview.’
Perhaps Paul Romano was a man of his word.
Due either to good management or luck, the surgeon was entering the front door of the house just as Maria and Jenna emerged from the kitchen and Louise was arriving at the foot of the sweeping staircase with Danielle in her arms.
For a moment nobody moved.
An eloquent snatch of time in which the situation and everybody’s reactions to it were registered. The atmosphere was suddenly electric and Jenna had to take a deep breath as the swirl of undercurrents threatened to suck her under.
Louise’s hold on Danielle struck a discordant note and her determination to advertise her right to be there was almost palpable. ‘Look, Danielle,’ she said brightly. ‘Daddy’s home.’
Maria’s smile of welcome faded as her gaze travelled from her son to the woman holding her granddaughter. Jenna could sense the anxiety all too clearly.
But what made the air really crackle was the fact that Jenna realised instantly that Louise had no show of being the one in control. The man in that photograph had been a single dimension. The reality was overpowering.
Too good-looking, in a dark suit reminiscent of that wedding attire. The only incongruous note in the immaculate appearance came from the large, stuffed toy giraffe he was holding by one leg in the same hand as a sleek leather briefcase.
He was also charming. But the smile was well practised and did not disguise the keen assessment coming from eyes even darker than those of his daughter. His head dipped in a single nod. The kind of nod, Jenna thought with amusement, that one of his new theatre nurses might receive. She was there and, of course, she wanted the job, but she would have to prove her capability. The benefit of any doubt was not about to be bestowed.
The awkward tension broke as the briefcase was deposited beside an antique umbrella stand and Paul Romano flicked one of Danielle’s silky curls with his forefinger.
‘Ciao, cara.’ He held out the giraffe, which Louise took, shaking her head.
‘You spoil her, Paul. She already has an entire zoo of animals.’
Danielle took no notice of the toy. She beamed, twisting in Louise’s grip to hold out her arms. ‘Pa-pa!’
But her father was already turning away as his mother spoke.
‘Paolo, this is Jenna Freeman.’
‘Yes.’ This time he held out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Ms Freeman.’
His English was perfect. Just enough trace of an accent in that deep voice to give it an edge that made you want to hear more. And his grip was strong. Sure. This time the eye contact was more personal. Penetrating, even. If Jenna had found the physical presence of this man overpowering, the effect of this physical contact was extremely disconcerting.
Intimidating?
Yes, but Jenna wasn’t about to be intimidated. The subtle put-down of treating her as no more than a prospective employee didn’t matter because Jenna had no intention of working for this man.
Not after the way he had just ignored his daughter’s plea for contact. How cold a person would you have to be to resist those little arms held out like that, begging for a cuddle? And was ‘Pa-pa’ the only word that Ella had learned so far? Out of desperation, perhaps?
However ‘difficult’ Paul might find it, being left as a single father, the baby should always come first.
Yet Jenna wasn’t getting the impression of a cold man from this contact. Quite the opposite, which only added to her curiosity about the dynamics of this household.
Too late, Jenna became aware that she had been staring at Paul Romano for a shade too long.
That Maria was beaming approvingly.
And that Louise had a gaze that felt like it was being filtered through the sights of a high-powered rifle.
Jenna hurriedly pulled her hand clear of Paul’s touch.
That he resisted her intention to pull her hand away was hardly surprising. This was a man who was very used to being in charge. It was only for a fraction of time. A single heartbeat. Just long enough for Jenna to be startled by a flash of what could have been annoyance. Or maybe resignation.
Something that she instinctively knew was not directed at her but was a result of him being just as aware as she was of the undercurrents swirling around them.
‘Come this way, Ms Freeman. I won’t keep you long.’
He led her back into the room in which she had been interviewed by the grandmothers. He ignored the pages of her CV still lying on the coffee-table, but Jenna had the impression he was already familiar with its contents.
‘So…Jennifer, is it?’
‘I prefer Jenna.’
The smile was definitely charming. ‘So do I,’ Paul said. ‘It sounds almost Italian.’
Then the smile faded and the gaze fixed on Jenna focussed sharply.
‘You’re a highly qualified nurse. Why are you applying for a job that will use virtually none of your skills?’
‘I…wanted a change.’
‘Why?’
Jenna took a deep breath. Talk about getting straight to the point. Fair enough, too. She’d want to know the motivation of someone she was going to employ to care for her child. There was no point in being less than honest.
‘Six months ago I applied for a year’s leave in order to care for my mother. She was terminally ill with cancer and I wanted to nurse her myself, rather than use a hospice.’ Jenna did her best to keep her tone calm and professional but she couldn’t help a small wobble. ‘Sadly, the end came a little sooner than expected.’
The face of the man facing her softened as she spoke and when he spoke, his voice was also softer. Deeper.
‘I’m so sorry, Jenna. I had no idea.’
Sympathy enveloped Jenna like a soft blanket. Unexpected and apparently so genuine she found, to her horror, that tears were not far away. She blinked hard. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Ella’s father could be this caring. After all, this was a man who had clearly loved his wife so passionately he was finding it impossible to bond with their child.
‘It was the right thing to do,’ he said approvingly. ‘Nothing is more