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His eyes slipped closed, and she knew this was the last chance to back away.
For a moment, she teetered on the edge, flirting with the idea of falling into this, letting it happen—
She pulled away.
Adriano’s eyes opened. Disappointment was etched on every feature of his handsome face. He wasn’t bothering to hide it.
Amy stood up. “I think we should go home,” she said.
He nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.”
It wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all.
That was the whole problem.
CHAPTER17
AMY
The day after their ill-fated trip to the lake, Amy woke up feeling sick as a dog.
She lay in bed for a moment, her head spinning and her stomach churning, struggling to understand. It almost felt like a hangover, but she’d had nothing to drink the night before. She’d hardly had anything to drink since arriving in Italy, in fact—it felt insensitive to drink when Adriano was supposed to be giving up alcohol.
A part of her recognized that there was nothing especially professional aboutthatviewpoint, of course. Doctors didn’t typically adhere to the lifestyle changes they recommended for their patients. That was something friends and loved ones did. Why had it felt so natural to her to give up what he couldn’t have?
It was hard to say.
For a moment, she thought her stomach had settled—and then she bolted upright and ran for the bathroom. As she heaved over the toilet, she found herself feeling deeply grateful that she had the guest cottage to herself. It would have been beyond embarrassing to get sick like this in front of Adriano.
Eventually, she leaned back against the sink and took a few deep breaths, steadying herself, running through her symptoms clinically in her mind and trying to pinpoint a cause.
It had to be a flu, or some sort of similar bug. That was bad news given that she had been in such close contact with a Barks-Howard’s patient. Her own immune system was fine, but his was weak, and if he caught whatever she had, it might be disastrous for him.
Already, she was running through the next steps in her mind. She was definitely going to have to quarantine herself, but she would also need to make sure Adriano got to a hospital and got himself checked out. Early detection would be key. If he had something, they might be able to start treatment before it got too serious. That would give him his best chance.
She got to her feet to go to the phone and call the main house, to let someone know what was going on.
And paused.
If she had the flu, she should have a fever. She should be feeling much worse than she currently did. The fact was, after throwing up, she felt back to normal, as if nothing was wrong with her at all. The dizziness and the nausea were gone.
What did this mean?
Amy’s medical expertise failed her for a moment. Was it food poisoning? That didn’t sound right. She hadn’t eaten anything strange over the past few days—she was primarily sticking to Adriano’s prescribed bland diet, actually, another habit she was going to have to take a closer look at when she found the time.
But what was wrong with her now?
She leaned against the sink, trying to get her bearings. Her head was spinning again, but this time it had nothing to do with physical dizziness. It was disorientation. Confusion. Stress.
And then, as if her mind was trying to show her the answer to the riddle, her eyes focused in on the little box of tampons on the sink.
Her knees buckled and she had to catch herself.
How could she not have noticed?
She hadn’t had her period since arriving in Italy. It had been due ages ago, and she had been too distracted to realize.
There was really only one thing that could mean, and of course as a doctor there was no amount of denial that could stop her from seeing it. Still, she tried. She pushed the thought away. Her mind searched frantically for some other explanation.
