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Suddenly she had a mental picture of Carlo’s babies—dark-haired and dark-eyed with seductive smiles, just like their father.
She shook herself quickly.
What was the matter with her?
She’d known him for less than a week, for goodness’ sake, and here she was imagining having his babies.
She’d been spending too much time with Kim.
After they’d transferred Helen to the ward Zan grabbed her coat and went in search of Carlo.
She found him by the ward desk, finishing off some notes.
‘I’m off home.’
‘Wait for me!’ His rough command surprised her, but she settled herself in a chair next to him and waited for him to finish writing.
Finally he closed the notes and sat back with a sigh. ‘Done. Let’s go. If they need me again they can call.’
They walked the short distance to her flat, and Zan was still busy chatting about the twins and the excitement of the day when the lift doors opened and she cau
ght sight of the door of her flat.
It was splintered and torn off its hinges.
‘Oh, my God.’ Her face lost its colour and she made a movement towards her flat, but Carlo grabbed her and pulled her backwards.
‘No!’
He thrust her behind him and reached into his pocket for his mobile phone. He keyed in a number, said a few words of Italian, his eyes never leaving the open door, and then flipped the phone shut and put it back into his pocket.
‘Stay behind me.’
His harsh order made her flinch and she looked at him, startled, seeing a side of him that she hadn’t encountered before.
His eyes were cold and dangerous and she swallowed hard.
‘I— It’s probably just kids.’
But the uneasy feeling inside her was growing.
She’d never seen Carlo this tense before. Even while delivering Kelly’s baby he’d been relaxed and amazingly cool.
Something was very wrong.
He walked softly to the door and looked inside, his jaw tightening as he saw the mess in her flat.
‘Oh, no!’ She peeped around his shoulder and gave a groan as she saw the Christmas tree lying on its side, the presents scattered around the living room. ‘My tree! My things…’
Her favourite blue sofa had been torn apart and glasses had been smashed on the wooden floor.
‘Who would want to do this?’ Distressed by the mess, she pushed past him and dropped to her knees, tears filling her eyes as she picked up some of the presents. ‘Who would want to rob someone on Christmas Day?’
It seemed so unfair that she stifled a sob, aware that Carlo was prowling around her flat, checking every room, his face dark and dangerous.
She stared at him, puzzled by his behaviour. ‘What are you doing? They’re not likely to still be here. It was just children.’
Zan brushed the tears away from her face and scrambled to her feet, frowning slightly as her eyes rested on the television and the stereo.
