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‘Shouldn’t she be awake by now?’ he asked, anxiety making his manner abrupt.
The nurse gave a soothing smile and promised him everything was just as it ought to be. ‘She’ll probably sleep until the morning,’ she informed him with a lot more cheer than he considered the situation warranted. ‘If she does wake up she’ll be pretty woozy. Maybe you should go home and get some sleep?’
He reacted irritably to the tentative suggestion. ‘I’ll stay.’
After studying his face she did not argue the point. ‘Would you like a blanket?’
‘I do not need a blanket.’ What he needed was his wife to open her eyes.
‘I’ll get you another coffee,’ the nurse offered, before scribbling something on the chart and leaving the room.
Francesco got up and began to pace the room, his expression distracted. Despite the constant reassurances from the medical staff that the operation had been a total success he would not, could not relax until Erin woke up. Until he heard her voice.
‘Though when you do wake up,’ he said, dropping heavily back into the chair that was drawn up to the bed, ‘you will probably tell me you hate me.’ He rested his chin on his steepled fingers and shook his head. ‘And I wouldn’t blame you. First Rafe and now you. A man should cherish those who are most precious to him. But no, I had to prove a point, make you choose me. Dio, but I am a total selfish bastard! I promise you that when you are well I will … if anything ever happened to you.’ He picked up the small hand that lay against the sheet and lifted it to his lips. ‘I swear I will never let anything hurt you again.’
‘Mr Romanelli …’
He started at the sound of the nurse’s voice and, first laying Erin’s hand gently back down onto the bed, turned his head.
‘I’ll leave the coffee here, shall I?’ she said, placing the cup on the bedside table.
‘Thank you,’ he said, turning back to Erin and covering her small hand with his. The wave of emotion he felt as he looked at her was like a physical pain.
‘I can’t lose you.’
‘I’m not lost.’
‘Erin?’ Relief flooded through him as she opened her eyes and looked up at him.
‘Hello, cara,’ he said thickly.
‘Francesco?’
Her blurry vision cleared and Erin found herself looking into his unmistakable features. His face, his fallen dark angel face, looked drawn and almost haggard, he hadn’t shaved and there were deep lines bracketing his mouth that she couldn’t recall seeing before.
‘We got married, didn’t we? That was so stupid.’ She closed her eyes and did not see the spasm of pain that contorted his lean features. ‘You make a much better lover than I make a wife. Did something happen?’
Francesco swallowed, seeing in his head her fall down those steps. ‘Yes, cara, you fell.’
‘I’ve got a sore throat, too. Fall? I don’t remember,’ she complained crankily.
‘That doesn’t matter now; you sleep.’ He reached for the buzzer to summon a nurse. Where was the damned woman?
She sighed as she felt his cool fingers on her forehead. She smiled sleepily. ‘That’s nice. I had a dream someone was stroking my head. It was nice; was it you?’
‘Go to sleep.’
‘Will you be here when I wake up?’ ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
She smiled, expelled a deep sigh and almost immediately fell asleep.
‘When can I go home?’
‘I’m beginning to get the impression you don’t like us,’ teased the doctor who had just declared the puncture wounds on her abdomen, the only external sign of the emergency surgery she had undergone, were fine.
‘You’ve only been with us forty-eight hours.’
‘It feels like longer.’
