Dear Reader
My family and I had the pleasure of cruising around the Mediterranean last year and visiting some wonderful places. It was a great experience and there was nothing like waking up in a new port every day. We visited the ruins of Pompeii and the Château D’If—the prison that inspired The Count of Monte Cristo.
Imagine living that life every day. The crew we met were all hardworking, dedicated professionals, and I couldn’t think of a better setting for a medical romance.
Gabriel is a gorgeous Venetian doctor. He’s returned home to be closer to his family as his father is unwell. He comes from wealthy background and has a poor experience of women, who have frequently been more interested in his money than his heart.
Francesca is using the cruise ship as a safe haven while she waits for her visa to Australia. But what is she really running from?
These two had to work hard for their happy-ever-after, and I’m so glad that they get it in such a beautiful setting.
Please come and say hi at my website:
www.scarlet-wilson.com
Scarlet
Scarlet Wilson:
‘Stirring, emotional and wonderfully absorbing,
IT STARTED WITH A PREGNANCY is an impressive debut novel from a fabulous new voice in category romance: Scarlet Wilson!’
—www.cataromance.com on
IT STARTED WITH A PREGNANCY
An Inescapable
Temptation
Scarlet Wilson
DEDICATION
My family are so lucky to have been blessed
with three beautiful babies in the last year.
Welcome to the world, Taylor Jennifer Hyndman,
Oliver Edward Nyack and Noah Alexander Dickson.
Wishing you lives filled with love, health and happiness.
CHAPTER ONE
‘HELP!’
Gabriel turned his head, trying to figure out where the cry had come from amongst the bustling bodies at the port side. The Venezia Passegeri was packed—mainly with crew and harbour staff. Carts packed with passengers’ luggage and an obscene amount of fresh food were being piled aboard the cruise ship in front of him, all blocking his view.
‘Help! Over here. Someone help!’
The cry rippled through the crowd as heads turned and focused towards the shout. It only took Gabriel a few seconds to realise the cry was coming from the edge of the quay. He dropped his bag and pushed his way through the crowd. A woman was standing near the edge, her face pale, her breathing coming in rapid, shallow breaths. Her trembling hand was pointing towards the water.
Gabriel’s eyes followed her finger. There, in the water, was a child—a teenager—struggling in the waves that already seemed to have a grip of him. He must have only just fallen in, but this part of the marina was right on the outskirts of Venice, nearest the sea, and the waves were picking him up and down as he coughed and spluttered, pulling him out to sea.
Gabriel didn’t even think. He just dived in. Straight into the murky waters of Venice.
By now a few crew members had noticed the commotion and were shouting in rapid Italian. Gabriel swam quickly towards the boy. It only took a few seconds to wish he’d taken the time to remove his shoes and dress uniform jacket. They weighed him down almost instantly. His white uniform would never look the same again.
The boy kept sinking before his eyes, the waves sweeping over his head as he struggled for breath. Gabriel powered forward, anxious to reach him before he disappeared from sight again.
He got there in less than a minute but the boy had sunk under the waves. Gabriel took a deep breath and dived underwater, reaching down into the darkness. It was amazing how the strong Italian sun penetrated so little through the murky waters. Venice was renowned for its dirty canals. The cruise ship terminal was situated on the outskirts near the edge of the Adriatic Sea, where the deep-keeled ships could dock. And although the waters were marginally better here, they still looked nothing like the clear blue seas depicted in the travel brochures. His fingers brushed against something and he tried fruitlessly to grasp it. Nothing.
Frustration swept over him. His face broke the surface of the water and he gasped for air, trying to fill his lungs. Beneath the waves he shucked one foot against the other. It was a move he did every night in the comfort of his penthouse flat while sitting on the sofa, but struggling to stay afloat it was so much more awkward. Finally he felt a release as the five-hundred-euro hand-made leather shoes floated down into the murky depths. Now he would find the boy.
He dived beneath the waves again, reaching out, trying to circle the area beneath him. This time he felt something bump against his hand and he grabbed tightly before kicking his burning legs to the surface. The two of them burst above the waves, the teenager’s flailing legs and arms landing a panicked punch on the side of Gabriel’s head.
He flinched. His brain switching into gear. The woman at the quayside had shouted in English.
‘Stay still,’ he hissed at the boy. The sun was temporarily blinding him as the water streamed down his face.
He could see the jetty. Figures shouted towards him but he couldn’t hear a word. The current was strong here and he could hardly believe how quickly they’d moved away from the quay.
The glistening hull of the luxury cruise ship seemed so far away. He’d been standing before it only a few minutes earlier.
He put both hands around the boy’s chest and pulled him backwards against his own chest, trying to swim for both of them in his version of the classic lifesaving manoeuvre.
But the boy couldn’t stop panicking. The waves were fierce, the water still sweeping over the top of them, causing the boy to writhe in Gabriel’s arms as he struggled for breath. A shadow loomed behind them.
His arms were aching as he fought to keep their heads above the water. How on earth was he going to get them back to the quay? Again he could hear the boy coughing and spluttering, choking on the waves that kept crashing over their heads.
He’d never done a sea rescue before. Last time he’d seen one he’d been watching TV. It had all looked so much easier then. Didn’t the lifeguards on TV always put people on their backs and pull them towards shore? It didn’t seem to be working for him. And they had that strange red plastic thing to help them. Where were the lifebelts here? Shouldn’t every port have them?
What on earth was he doing? This was madness. Being a cruise ship doctor was supposed to be easy. It wasn’t supposed to kill you the first day on the job.
The irony of this wasn’t lost on him. He’d known this job was a bad idea right from the start. A cruise ship doctor was hardly the ideal role for a paediatrician.
But family came first.
And this had been the first job he’d been able to find at short notice. Close enough to Venice to be here when needed but far enough away not to attract any unwanted media attention.
His father’s health was slowly but surely deteriorating. And the call to the family business—the