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He’d already decided that the first opportunity that he had he was going to tell her the truth and risk the consequences.
‘Mr Bennett?’ A young student nurse cleared her throat nervously to attract his attention. ‘The labour ward has been calling. They need you up there urgently.’
Despite the fact it was Christmas Eve, the day was frantically busy and they barely saw one another as they coped with the huge workload.
Fortunately by five o’clock labour ward had calmed down and the clinic was empty.
In the nurses’ locker room, Zan dragged on green tights and a figure-hugging tunic and pulled a face in the mirror. ‘Are you sure this is an elf costume? I look more like Peter Pan.’
‘Definitely elf,’ Kim murmured as she pushed her feet into a pair of black boots. ‘Next year I’m coming as something warm and furry, like a reindeer. There’s something to be said for being Father Christmas. At least you can wear a thick jumper underneath. Talking of which, what’s happening with that gorgeous man of yours?’
Zan blushed and tucked her dark hair under a green hat. ‘He’s finished on Labour Ward and he’s gone to change.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ Kim said dryly, and Zan smiled.
‘Nothing’s happening exactly…’ Not yet anyway. ‘But we get on well. And he’s such a brilliant doctor, Kim.’ Her eyes shone. ‘You should have seen him with Kelly. He was so calm and he just wouldn’t give up on that baby. And then he managed to talk Mike round and persuade him into going to the hospital, and he’d arranged heaters and an ambulance…’ She broke off, breathless, and Kim grinned.
‘So you’re not in love, or anything like that, then?’
Zan sucked in a breath and her eyes widened.
Love?
It had been so fast she hadn’t even examined her feelings in any depth, but now she did and the result shocked her. She sat down with a thump on one of the hard chairs.
‘It’s only been a few days,’ she croaked. ‘How do I know if it’s love?’
Kim shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Try and imagine him walking down the aisle with someone else. How do you feel?’
Zan thought about it. ‘Sick?’
‘That could be love or too many mince pies,’ Kim said sagely. ‘Do you want to punch her on the nose?’
‘I think I’ve done enough punching in this relationship,’ Zan muttered, remembering Carlo’s bruised cheek. ‘And I’m not kidding myself it’s marriage he has in mind.’
Carlo was a red-blooded Italian male who certainly didn’t need to get married to have an active sex life.
Kim shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that. He must be early thirties. All Italian men want babies at some point. They’re very into the family thing. It’s got to be on his agenda.’
Zan bit her lip. Did he want to get married? The thought of Carlo smiling at another woman, kissing another woman, making love to another woman, made her utterly miserable.
‘OK.’ She lifted her palms and gave a resigned smile. ‘To answer your original question—I’d definitely want to punch her on the nose. Hard.’
Kim grinned. ‘I knew it. You’re in love.’
‘I think I might be.’ Zan’s expression was gloomy. ‘Bad news, huh?’
‘Why bad news?’ Kim straightened her costume and reached for her coat. ‘He seems pretty keen on you, too.’
‘Bed keen,’ Zan said wistfully. ‘Not marriage keen.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I’ve only known him for four days,’ Zan pointed out, and Kim shrugged.
‘Well, it’s been long enough for you.’
Zan thought about everything Carlo had done since she’d met him. Waded in and rescued her from being mugged, made her laugh, intervened in a difficult delivery, kissed her breathless and saved the life of a baby. She’d learned a lot about him in four days.
