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'It's a while since I have done this kind of thing,' he told her as put them on, his vulnerability surprising her. 'Let us hope for the patients' sake that I am up to the task. And that my hands will hold out.'

In spite of her mental withdrawal from him, a wave of concern assailed her at his doubt over the decreased physical dexterity that so troubled him. Before she could reply, however, their first critically injured patient arrived—an unconscious man with a depressed skull fracture, broken shoulder and chest injuries.

It was the start of what seemed an unending stream, as more and more casualties were pulled alive from the rubble. As Seb had predicted, there was a predominance of crush injuries, fractures and deep-tissue wounds. Care had to be
taken with crush syndrome, because prolonged pressure, when relieved, could cause shock, vascular problems, renal failure, even death. A doctor was on hand for each extraction, and difficult decisions had to be made—occasionally to sacrifice a limb to save a life.

Specialist search and medical teams soon arrived from the mainland, bringing further supplies and equipment. As the hours ticked by, she and Seb worked side by side on patient after patient, and she instinctively took on extra clinical tasks under his direction, to compensate for his reduced physical capacity.

Amongst the many people they treated from a variety of countries were a middle-aged woman with a severely fractured femur and extensive blood loss, two men with serious head injuries, a young woman with a dislocated shoulder, broken collarbone and two broken arms, a teenage boy with flail chest, a woman with extensive facial fractures and tissue damage, who had needed a cricothyroidotomy to reestablish her airway, and an older man with multiple lower leg fractures who was also complaining of chest pain which turned out to be cardiac.

They had all been stabilised and evacuated to hospital. And still the injured kept coming. Each case affected Gina, but it was the frightened, injured children who broke her heart.

Fighting weariness, she changed her gloves between patients and took a drink of the bottled water provided for them, allowing herself a glance at Seb. Over the years she had worked with many doctors, of varying abilities, and Seb was the very best of them. Despite the problem with his hands, his skill was extraordinary, and he was calm, compassionate and thorough. He had said he was rusty at this, so what kind of medicine did he normally do? Frowning, she noted the way he flexed his hands, grimacing with pain as he massaged his right wrist, thumb and forefinger. She loved him, but she was angry and confused, feeling betrayed, hurt, unsure. She needed time to think—but there was no chance of that at the moment.

Their next patient was a young man with chest injuries and breaks to the radius and ulna in his left arm, with the displaced bones piercing the skin. Confused and in pain, he was cold and pale, his skin clammy. While Seb carried out an initial assessment, Gina set to work inserting a cannula into the uninjured arm, and began running a crystalloid drip to replace fluids and ward off the effects of shock and blood loss.

'His breathing is distressed and he's tachycardic,' she told Seb, giving him details of blood pressure, respiration and pulse-rate.

'A couple of ribs are broken, and there are no breath sounds on the right side.' He paused a moment. 'There is tracheal deviation and he has distended neck veins.'

'Tension pneumothorax?'

'Yes.'

While Seb explained to the distressed young Italian what was happening, she busied herself preparing a local anaesthetic and the equipment he would require to aspirate the chest.

'Gina, I need your help.'

She looked up, trying to block out the regret and the plea for understanding in Seb's eyes. 'What is it?'

'I can't do this with my hands as they are,' he explained, his frustration evident.

She ached for his wounded pride and the loss of his full abilities. But with all the other medical teams as rushed as they were, there was no one else to call on. 'All right.' She moved around the makeshift treatment table to Seb's side.

'Have you ever done this before, Gina?'

'Once,' she admitted, remembering how terrified she had been, knowing there was no doctor on hand and that the woman in her care at the time would die if she didn't act fast. She'd later been commended for her actions, but it wasn't something she had ever wanted to do again. 'It was a long time ago.'

'I'm right here with you.' Seb's throaty reassurance rippled through her, and the inevitable but inappropriate awareness caught her off guard. 'We can do this...together.'

Gina sucked in a deep breath, trying to control both her nerves and her reaction to Seb. With the local anaesthetic having taken effect, she followed his detailed directions and inserted the needle into the second intercostal space in the midclavicular line, the aspirated air that escaped confirming his diagnosis. She was more scared than she wanted to admit as Seb talked her through the next step.. .making an incision in the fifth intercostal space, anterior to the mid-axillary line, and inserting a drain. He was with her every second, praising her, boosting her confidence, inserting a gloved finger into the incision to check the positioning, finally fitting the seal when the tube was correctly sited in the chest cavity. Relieved, her fingers shaking, Gina fixed it in place and checked the drain was working.

There was little time to think as they turned their attention to the badly fractured arm. After administering a top-up of analgesia through the intravenous access, she helped Seb straighten, dress and splint the damaged forearm, ensuring blood circulation, keeping the open wound sterile and applying support to the limb.

'Well done,
tesoro,
that was a great job. You were fantastic.' He smiled as their patient was taken to a helicopter for evacuation. 'We make a great team, no?'

A shaft of pain lanced through her and she turned away, hiding her emotional reaction as she cleared up and prepared for the next casualty. How could he act as if nothing had happened? As if lying to her didn't matter?

'Gina...'

'Not now,' she managed, knowing she would never get through the rest of this ordeal if she allowed thoughts of his deception to play on her mind.

 

They should have gone home hours ago, Seb acknowledged, but both he and Gina had needed to see it through for as long as they could be useful. It seemed impossible that anyone left buried under the rubble all these hours later could be alive and saved, but miraculously more
were
found, and they worked on to the point of exhaustion to give them the best care and the best chance possible.

The pain and seizing in his hands had increased, and now he could do less and less. His reduced ability made him impatient and angry, and confirmed that he would never be able to do surgery or trauma work again. Not on a regular basis. Thankfully he had kept up to date with emergency procedures, so he had been of some use at least, but as his hands had failed him, he had needed to rely more and more on Gina.

She had been incredible. A tower of strength. Calm, skilled, outwardly unfazed by anything thrown at her—although he could tell that some of the things they had dealt with had affected her, as they had him. She was totally professional and a terrific nurse, attuned to the patients' emotional need for reassurance while being efficient in attending to their clinical needs. They had worked so well together. It had restored some of his confidence, given him new hope for his future career. He
could
still be a doctor—
could
still make a difference and help people. It was a matter of finding a new niche. One which kept him true to himself this time. One which gave him the kind of self-respect that shone through in everything Gina did.

She had taught him so much about himself, had made him look with fresh eyes at his life, and she didn't even know it. He wanted so badly to share it with her, to explain his fears, his mistakes, to discuss where to go from here...but it could already be too late. He might have blown his best chance with the only woman to ever touch his heart, who had ever made him think of for ever. He could see and feel her doubts, her mistrust of him, and it pierced his soul.

It was early evening before they finally left the scene. Replacement medical teams from the mainland had relieved them, and search-and-rescue personnel were using heat-seeking cameras and a dog to locate the dozen people still missing and believed trapped in the lower layers of the collapsed building. The journey home was completed in a tense silence, and once back at the villa Gina walked inside and headed towards her own room in the guest wing.

'Gina, please. I—'

'I'm really tired, Seb.' She wouldn't meet his gaze, and fear clawed at his gut. 'I need to shower and sleep.'

'Of course. Thank you for all you did today. You were amazing,'

With a weary nod, she turned away. Reluctantly, Seb let her go, cursing himself for his stupidity. He had never meant to hurt her. And she
was
hurt. The pain in those big brown eyes broke his heart. Now he had no idea what to do to make things right—whether to go to her, or give her the space she asked for. How could he make her understand? Filled with uncertainty, he sent Evelina home, then checked on Maria before going to take a shower of his own, finally returning to the kitchen to force down a little of the food Evelina had left ready for them.

Some while later, exhausted and aching, he followed Gina's example and had an early night, lying in a bed that now seemed too big and empty. He was restless. Alone. He couldn't sleep without Gina in his arms. Succumbing to temptation, he got up and went to check on her—but she was not in her room. His anxiety increasing, he looked in on a sleeping Maria and found Gina curled up in the armchair beside the bed. Even in the dimness he could see the tracks of tears on her cheeks. Unable to bear her hurt or the separation between them a moment longer, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to his room.

'Seb...'

'Shh,
amore mia
,' he whispered at her soft, raw protest. 'Let me take care of you.' Tucking her into bed, he slid in beside her, gentling her, kissing her, licking away her tears. 'I'm sorry, Gina. So sorry.' Wrapping his arms around her, he kept her close. 'Please forgive me.'

He held her through the night, watching over her as she slept, but he was upset and concerned to wake up the next morning and find her gone from his bed. His alarm increasing, he hurried to dress and went in search of her. The villa was empty, but he found Maria and Evelina on the terrace. Evelina excused herself and bustled off to the kitchen to put on more coffee.

'Gina has gone for a walk,' Maria told him, understanding mixed with a hint of censure in her expression. 'She said she needed some time alone to think.'

Dannare!
He didn't want Gina thinking...not until he had been able to talk to her, to explain, to tell her everything himself. That he had caused her hurt and had dented her trust in him was too painful to bear.

'Has she gone to the cove?' he asked Maria, his gaze straying down the cliffside to the crescent of beach far below.

'No,
cara.
She didn't say where she was going. And she didn't take her phone.'

Edgy and restless, he paced the terrace. He wanted to go after Gina. But how could he when he had no idea where she was?

'Sebastiano!'

Evelina's call had him turning towards the villa. 'Yes?'

'There is a call for you. They say it is important,' she informed him.

'Thank you.' Sighing, he faced Maria again. 'I am sorry. I should take this.'

'Of course. Try not to worry,' she added, patting his hand.

Seb knew her reassurance was well meant, but he couldn't help but worry. Concern for Gina and what this distance meant for them preyed on his mind as he headed indoors. The unexpected news he received only added to his tension.

'Is something the matter?' Maria asked as he returned to the terrace.

'That was the police in Florence. They have arrested the man believed to be responsible for the knife attack in July,' he explained, sitting down to drink the coffee Evelina insisted he make time for. 'He was known to the police, but had gone into hiding after the incident. Yesterday he was picked up in Turin and returned to Florence. They want me there today to identify him, before he appears in court and is charged. It is the worst possible timing.'

'You must go, Sebastiano,' Evelina fretted.

'I know. There is a flight arranged for me. But I don't want to leave Gina. Especially now, with things unresolved between us.' He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. 'Where
is
she?'

Maria reached out and touched his arm. 'Perhaps Gina will return before it is time for you to leave for the airport.'

Seb could find little comfort in the words. More than anything he wished he could take Gina with him to Florence. But, even were she here to ask, he suspected she would decline—especially now, with the distance between them and so much unexplained. Besides, he knew she wouldn't leave Maria. He could only hope that time apart would help clarify things, that they could clear up their misunderstandings when he returned to Elba.

Going back indoors, he called for a progress report on yesterday's emergency. All casualties had been released from the rubble, and no one was missing, but the death toll had risen to fifteen. Still a miracle, he thought, given the enormity of what had happened. Next he phoned Rico and arranged for his cousin to meet his flight.

'It is good news that they have this man in custody at last,' Rico declared with satisfaction. 'Of course I will come for you,
cugino.
I will be happy to see you—you have been silent for days, and I am intrigued to hear all about the delectable Gina, who has obviously been keeping you very busy! Will she be with you?'

'Rico.' Seb growled the warning, in no mood for the teasing.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' he lied. 'Not now, OK? I'll explain when I see you.'

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