Christmas Kisses Collection. Louise Allen. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Louise Allen
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Жанр произведения: Исторические любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008900571
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Bea,’ Annabelle said.

      Bea gripped her mother’s hand a little tighter as she looked up at the very tall nurse. Her long blonde hair was tied in quite a severe style atop her head that made her appear even taller.

      ‘Pink’s my favourite colour in the world,’ Annabelle continued and bent down a little to come nearer to the little girl’s height. ‘I love it so much I even have pink towels and pink soap.’

      Bea loosened her grip a little. ‘Me too,’ she replied with her toothy grin and then smiled up at her mother before she continued. ‘I have a pink bed.’

      ‘Yes, you do, and a pink quilt. In fact your room is a pink palace,’ Juliet agreed.

      ‘Wow, that’s awfully special. I wish I had pink sheets and a pink quilt.’

      Juliet was happy that Annabelle and Bea were engaging but she was becoming increasingly concerned about the timeframe she had to get to the consultation and she knew she was hiding the fact well.

      ‘Is there something I can help you with?’ Annabelle asked.

      ‘Yes, actually there is. I need to find the crèche as soon as possible. Dr Warren and I’ll be meeting with the Abbiatis shortly and I need to settle Bea in, and I haven’t had a chance to look over the last two days’ obs for Georgina as I’ve been travelling—’

      ‘I can help with all of that,’ Annabelle cut in.

      ‘You can? That would be wonderful. Thank you so much.’

      ‘Not at all,’ Annabelle replied with a smile. ‘I’ve just finished my shift and I have no plans so what if I take Bea to the crèche? It’s on the ground floor, and I’ll wait with her while you meet with Georgina and Leo. Bea and I can chat about all things pink.’

      ‘That’s so kind of you,’ Juliet said as she turned back to the lift. ‘We’ll have to hurry though as I have less than fifteen minutes to get to the crèche and back here for the consultation.’

      Annabelle took a few long steps and pressed the down button. ‘If I may make a suggestion…what if you wait here and I take Bea to the crèche so you can read over Georgina’s notes? I’ve just refreshed everything after the ward rounds, so you can sit at the nurses’ station and read up for a few minutes. I’ll ask one of the nurses to take you to Room Two-Thirteen when you’re ready. It would be less rushed and you’ll be up to speed on the babies and mother’s condition in plenty of time for the appointment.’

      Juliet was so grateful the world had given her a twenty-first-century Florence Nightingale but she also felt torn letting Bea go with a nurse she had known for less than five minutes. A brief internal battle prevailed, fuelled a little by Charlie’s initial judging of her parenting, but common sense and her need to attend the consultation won out. ‘I think Bea should be okay to go with you. She attends childcare two days a week.

      ‘Is it all right with you, Bea, if the nurse takes you to the crèche? It’s like Pennybrook back home when you go and play with the other children when Grandma and Grandpa don’t have you. It’s not far from here and I’ll be there in about an hour once I’ve seen the very special patient we came all this way to help.’

      ‘Are you going to help the lady with four babies in her tummy?’

      ‘Yes, I am.’

      ‘Okay, Mummy. I think you should go. Grandpa told me that you need to help the lady have the babies.’

      Juliet smiled. Sometimes Bea was so wise and practical for a four-year-old. Spending quality time with her grandparents had brought an older perspective to her life and for that Juliet was grateful. She kissed the top of her daughter’s head and watched her and Annabelle step closer to the opening doors of the elevator. Bea’s fear, that was palpable in A&E, had all but disappeared. Annabelle did look a little similar to one of the pretty child-carers back at Pennybrook and that, Juliet surmised, went a long way to making Bea feel comfortable.

      ‘And you can meet the other children at the crèche. They’re all very nice,’ Annabelle added as she reached for Bea’s little hand and stepped inside the now fully open doors. ‘And you can tell me about everything you have back in Australia that’s pink. Do you have a pink kangaroo too?’

      ‘No, that would be silly,’ Bea said, giggling. ‘But I have a pink bear and a pink….’ The doors closed on Bea’s chatter and Juliet felt herself smiling as she waved goodbye. Annabelle was a lovely addition to an otherwise dreadful day and she was so grateful for her assistance.

      As Juliet took a moment to gather her thoughts she knew, with Bea under control, she could concentrate on the task at hand. Making sure that Charlie Warren was put in his place. She had not travelled halfway around the world, not to mention spent years qualifying in her field, to be contradicted by him without having an opportunity to deliver all of the facts. In-utero surgery was the quads’ best hope and she would be damned if she would stand by and have Charlie convince the Abbiatis otherwise.

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      Juliet returned to the computer at the nurses’ station and caught up with the Abbiatti quads’ and their mother’s observations before heading off in the direction of Georgina’s room. She stood at the T-junction reading the room signs to ensure she had the right wing.

      ‘So let’s get you around to meet the parents of the infamous four,’ Charlie said, startling Juliet and making her spin around. It was a voice that she would now recognise anywhere. ‘I didn’t want you to get lost on the way to the consult. I want the Abbiatis to hear your plan and make up their own minds. Despite what you may think, I do play fair.’

      ‘Um…thank you,’ she said with a little frown causing a furrow on her forehead. He wasn’t playing fair in her books. He was on a mission and the way he looked, the way he spoke, his seemingly impeccable manners, none of it was playing fair.

      He ushered her in the direction of the patient’s room and she walked alongside him refusing to acknowledge to herself how he was unnerving and confusing her. Since Bea was born, Juliet felt confident in her appraisal of men and their intentions very quickly. No matter how cleverly they spun a story or expertly delivered a well-versed pick-up line. They were all the same and she knew not to trust them.

      But Charlie, she had to silently admit, was the most difficult case to sum up that she had stumbled upon to date.

      They walked in silence for a few steps, but as they neared the ward Charlie stopped and turned to face Juliet. ‘There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you.’

      Juliet’s eyes widened and quizzically looked everywhere but at Charlie. She really didn’t want to look into his eyes, not in such close proximity. Finally her gaze came back to him. His look was intense and she swallowed nervously.

      ‘What is it?’ she asked, not sure she wanted to know but equally puzzled. Even now, in his white consulting coat, he looked as dashing and irresistible as he did in his head-to-toe black leather motorcycle gear. His broad shoulders were not hidden underneath the shapeless clothing. A body like his could not be masked by anything. His boots very loudly announced bad boy even if the rest of him was temporarily dressed to indicate tame. There were definitely two sides to Charlie Warren.

      ‘I’ve had time to reflect on my earlier behaviour and I wanted to apologise for jumping to a conclusion about you,’ he told her.

      Damn! Juliet swallowed again. How she wished with every fibre of her being she had refused the secondment and remained in Perth. Safely tucked away from what Charlie Warren could risk making her feel. It was scaring her. She had known him for less than two hours and he was confusing her more than she’d thought possible. All of her reservations and irritation about Charlie seemed to vanish, with the sound of his voice. It was a bedroom voice. Husky and innately masculine but with undertones of compassion….and tenderness.

      Why did he have to apologise? Being angry