Tempted by Her Italian Surgeon (22 page)

But to top off the day from hell, someone had organised a night walk through Regent's Park to raise money for the department. Tonight. For a dialysis machine. So he was duty bound to attend.

‘Wow, what's happening?' Regent's Park was one of his usual running spots but as he approached it he was surprised at the size of the crowd. Everywhere he looked he saw people; adults, kids, baby strollers, all dressed up in green, a surging emerald sea. Getting closer, he heard clapping start. Quietly at first, but with every step he took it got louder and louder. And
then he began to recognise faces. Joey's mum and dad. Portia, who he'd operated on last year, and her family. Mathilde. Ahmed. Benjamin. All these familiar faces greeting him with cheers and smiles. What the hell? Why were they clapping?

Confused and a little humbled, he stopped at the first marquee with a banner reading
‘KIDney Kidz—Give a little, save a life.'
He spoke to a nurse from the intensive care unit. ‘Hi. I'm Matteo. I need to pay for my ticket. I think I'm a little late. Where's the start?'

She beamed at him. ‘Hi, yes, I know who you are. I think everyone does.'

That damned picture again. ‘But—'

‘Thanks for everything you've done.' She gave a quick nod. ‘We're five minutes away from starting—the line's over there.' She pointed down the crowd of people to the right. ‘And it's okay, VIPs don't have to pay.'

VIPs? Now he was really confused. Was this another unfunny Ged joke? ‘It's for a good cause. I'd like to give something—'

‘I think you've given enough, Matteo.'

He froze. That voice. The northern accent.
Ivy
. His heart thumped. Would it ever stop its Pavlovian response to her? Four weeks and he'd managed to keep out of her way. Four long weeks
of hell wondering how to fix something that appeared irrevocably broken.

Sucking in a deep breath, he turned. She was dressed in a green T-shirt and shorts, her hair covered by a green baseball cap. She wore a tentative smile. In her hands she had a clipboard and a large net bag stuffed with green fabric. It was good to see her. Good and bad as his gut tumbled over and over. ‘Ivy. What are you doing here?'

Her pretty smile faded. ‘A fun run, obviously.'

His gaze flitted from that beautiful, heartbreaking mouth to her leg. ‘But your foot?'

‘Will be fine, I'm sure. It's only ten kilometres.' Although she looked more defiant than convinced. He had no doubt that if anyone would do it, she would. ‘Good turnout.'

‘I've never seen so many people at one of our events before. It's miraculous.'

Her head dipped a little as she replied, ‘No, Matteo. It's called using the internet for what it's good at.'

‘You? You did this?'
What the hell is going on?

‘Yes.'

‘How?'
Why?
For some reason his voice was croaky, his throat blocked.

Hers clearly wasn't. She was determined and forthright. Vibrant in her passion for what she'd done. ‘I sent out a call. I contacted Joey's mum
and dad, who are part of the kidney kids support network, who in turn contacted your previous patients, who promoted the idea on all their social network sites. Within twenty-four hours the buzz got picked up by a radio station. That got covered by the local newspaper. That was online and got clicked on by hundreds of people. Like your bottom, my call went viral. It doesn't happen every time, but this seems to have captured people's imaginations. Your patients and their families wanted to do this, for you. Because of what you'd done for them.'

Whoa. That was humbling and affirming at the same time. ‘What was your message?'

‘I said…and please don't be angry because only you and I really know what happened…' From her clipboard she peeled off a leaflet with his photo on it. His work profile one, not the one in the locker room. Thank goodness for small mercies. ‘Dr Matteo gave the gift of life, now you can too. One step at a time. Join us on a night walk. Wear green to be seen. KIDney Kidz: We won't fail them.'

‘You make me sound too perfect.'

She grinned and her green eyes shone with a fire he'd only seen once before. When he'd been in bed with her.
Mio Dio
, she was beautiful. She'd broken what had been left of his heart—he understood that now. ‘Nah—you're just the
pretty face poster-boy. Amazing what you can do, even with clothes on. I thought that there must be a lot of people out there who want to show their thanks, and who want to help others in the same situation. It's amazing how many people said yes as soon as your name was mentioned. You have quite a fan club.'

But the one person he wanted wasn't a member. ‘I don't know what to say.'

‘“Thank you” will suffice. Oh, and at three thousand people, ten quid a head, you've pretty much got your dialysis machine.' He followed her, walking slowly towards the start line, and they became engulfed with people on all sides, chatting, cheering, patting him on the back.

He still couldn't believe it. ‘And you organised this in four weeks?'

‘I pulled a few strings. Someone I was at university with knows someone who could make it happen. Becca helped too. We were stuffing the goody bags at three this morning.' Her face lit up as she looked at all the smiling faces around them. And he could see the tired edges of her face and he longed to touch her, but he wouldn't. ‘It was worth every second.'

‘But why? Why did you do this?'

She turned to look at him, her eyes misting. ‘Because you got to me in the end. I believe you need this equipment. I believe you, Matteo, when
you say children are vulnerable and not a brand. I believe in you. And I wanted to show you how using the internet for the right things can really pay off.' A loud crack split the sky. ‘Oh. Looks like we're starting. Come on.'

She stuffed a T-shirt—green, of course—into his hand and started to walk along the path. If her ankle was hurting she certainly had no intention of showing it. She'd done all this for him? Using her skills and knowledge and pure raw grit.

‘No. Stop a minute.' He pulled her off the path for a moment onto lush, warm grass. ‘I was wrong about you. Well, kind of wrong and right at the same time. I suppose I can concede that the internet has its advantages. Look at how many people
you
have helped.'

She shook her head. ‘I started to do this for you, Matteo. It would be wrong of me to say otherwise. I wanted to make you happy. But, actually, as the whole thing began to gain traction I got so completely invested in it that I had to make it work. Look at Joey there—you've made such a difference. To all of them.'

What was she saying? That this grand gesture was for him? Why? ‘I don't understand you, Ivy. You said it was over. You said you didn't want me. And that's okay. Sad, but okay. We have our own lives.' He didn't want to have this conversation.
Enough that it was all over between them, without this prolonged attachment. He watched as people streamed by, green balloons bobbing above their heads in the fading daylight, and felt overwhelming emotion. For them. For this. For him and Ivy. Between them they could have made an excellent team.

But that was useless. She'd been trying to prove a point that she could use social media for a good cause. This wasn't about them. Or about piecing together a broken heart. ‘Thank you for doing this—the department will be grateful. I am grateful. We should be going.'

* * *

This was not how Ivy had envisaged things going. She'd thought he would be pleased, thrilled enough that she wouldn't have to completely open herself up to him. That he'd accept this whole night run as a sign of how she felt. Which was…overwhelmed. Just being with him again left her breathless and aching for more. To touch him. To kiss him.

Say it.

Bleed if you have to.

She watched him moving quickly in the crowd. ‘Matteo. Stop.' Damn. This had not been such a great idea after all. How to declare yourself in front of three thousand runners?
Really?
She
doubled her pace, her leg jarring with every footfall, but, damn it, she was going to get through to him, all ten kilometres if she had to—shouting his name all the damned way. ‘Matteo! Stop.' He did, finally. ‘What I'm trying to say…badly…is that I'm sorry for how I reacted to everything. I didn't want it to end. Not really.'

He began to walk back to her, frowning. ‘But you made it very obvious you didn't want me. Are you saying that you do now? You've changed your mind?'

His words were like tiny daggers stabbing at her heart. ‘I always wanted you, you idiot. But I was scared. It went from a game, a battle of wills and a point to prove, to very serious, very quickly.' How else could she show him how she felt? Was this not enough?

‘Matteo, I've been trying to prove that I'm worth something my whole life—it was hard, bloody hard, and there were times even I didn't believe it. But I learnt to fight for myself, I learnt not to rely on anyone, not to let anyone in because I just knew I'd get hurt in the end. And then you came along and I didn't need to try too hard with you because you seemed to accept me as I was—which was new and weird and exciting. And then I didn't know what to do. You took me by surprise—I needed to make space for you
and I didn't want to let go of the safety blanket I'd shrouded myself in. My life was fine before you and your magnificent bottom came along, thank you very much, I wasn't expecting to fall in love with you…'

‘You love…?' His eyes widened at her admission.

She placed a finger over his mouth. If she didn't say it all now, she might never say it. ‘I felt frightened by the intensity of how I was feeling. My mum…she never wanted me around. Even now I'm of no use to her and I guess I got used to being on my own. But the thing is, I'm lost without you. I'm lost with you too, but that's okay… I'd kind of like us to be lost with each other. If you'll give me a second chance?'

He looked at her for a while. Took her finger from his lips and pressed a kiss onto the tip. ‘I'm not lost at all, Ivy. I found you and you are worth more to me than everything else.'

‘Oh, so good…'

But he still didn't look convinced. He wasn't. ‘How do I know you mean it this time? How do I know you will not throw it all back in my face?'

Oh, so bad. Was he for real? Could he not see the love she knew was in her eyes? Could he not hear it in her voice? ‘You want
more
than thirty thousand pounds, a massive show of support and a new dialysis machine? Really? That's
not enough? This isn't enough? I'm not enough? I love you, Matteo. I don't know how else to show you. Please, believe me. I'm not Elizabetta. I'm not your father. I won't throw your love back at you. I don't know what else would prove to you how I feel.'

The crowds had all moved along, balloons bobbing in the distance, the park now silent except for the whistle of wind through the trees and a dull buzz from a hovering bee. And she was left standing with Matteo, alone, in a garden that smelt of sunshine and roses. Then she smiled to herself. She'd noticed them. Becca would be proud.

He looked away, at the balloons and the children and the banners. At the posters and the marquee. A slow smile flitted onto his lips as his gaze went from her eyes to her mouth. ‘A kiss maybe?'

‘Oh. Yes. Of course. Good idea.' She took a step closer, hardly daring to believe that this could be happening. Maybe he did believe her. His arms snaked round her waist and he dragged her to him. She bunched his work shirt into her fists, choking back the tears that were threatening. ‘But how do you feel? About me? Us?'

‘I love you more than anything. I told you already.'

She blinked, trying to remember. She would have remembered. ‘When? When did you say that?'

‘Our last kiss. I whispered it to you.'

‘I wish I'd heard it.'

His mouth was close to her ear. ‘I said,
Ti amo
.'

She tried it, to see how it felt.
‘Ti amo,
Matteo. I love you.' Goddamn, it felt great, however she said it. Then she couldn't say anything else because the lump in her throat had got jammed there so tightly she could barely breathe. What little breath she did have left was whipped away by his kiss. A slow, gentle, heart-warming kiss that told her exactly how he felt.

He pulled away, a huge grin on his face. ‘No more wars? No more games.'

‘None.'

‘Good.' His finger stroked the side of her cheek. ‘So we have some catching up to do.'

‘Oh, yes, the run… We'd better hurry up, we're going to be last.'

He shook his head, those dark eyes blazing with desire, a smile that was at once innocent and dirty. ‘I wasn't thinking about that. I want you so bad…'

‘
Badly.
' She saw the flicker of a frown then the smile. Then the grimace. ‘Oh, whatever, I don't
care how you say it. Just keep on saying it… I want you right back.'

‘You know, you will drive me crazy.' He held out his hand.

She took it, held on tight, promising to never let go. ‘That sounds like a very good plan.'

* * * * *