Ellie stirred that night soon after she heard the phone ring, for working in the medical field had wired her to take greater note of alarms and phone calls. Coming sleepily awake, she sat up and watched Rio pace the floor naked. He was speaking in Italian and far too fast for her to follow, shooting urgent questions to whoever was on the other end of the call. And he was upset, lines grooved into his lean dark features, mouth a thinned tense line. Disturbed by what she was seeing, Ellie breathed in deep, bracing herself for trouble of some kind.
Rio made another call and then looked across at her with unconcealed anxiety. ‘We need to go home. Beppe’s in hospital. He had a heart attack while one of his friends was dining with him. He received immediate attention...which is good. Isn’t it?’ he demanded jerkily, seeking reassurance.
Ellie braced herself, fighting the strong emotions tearing at her at the very thought of losing the father she had only recently found. ‘Yes, it will greatly improve his chances of making a full recovery,’ she muttered hollowly, striving and failing to be more upbeat.
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