We all did. We have a baby with hydrocephalus—along with several other problems, the poor mite—and Richard Brooke called Gio up to the unit for advice,’ the caring Irish woman explained, referring to the consultant who headed NICU.
‘What sort of questions is Rita asking?’ Jess queried, striving for casual indifference.
‘She wants to know why someone who was such a wow in London would chose to “bury himself” in Cornwall,’ Brianna told them, spearing some food with her fork. ‘She saw Gio in the consultants’ car park with James Alexander, chatting about cars—apparently they own the same model Aston Martin, but in different colours, so Rita’s sure Gio’s loaded.’
‘For goodness’ sake,’ Megan responded, with the same disgust Jess was feeling.
‘Rita asked Gio if his wife would be joining him here.’ Brianna paused, and Jess steeled herself for what her friend would reveal next. ‘Gio said,“Unfortunately not,” and you could see the speculation in Rita’s eyes until Gio added, after a deliberate pause,“She’s dead.” It was just awful. I felt terrible for him. He looked so sad. Even Rita was embarrassed, and that’s saying something.’
As Brianna and Megan discussed Rita-avoidance tactics, Jess sat back and battled her emotions. Her heart squeezed with pain at the news of Gio’s loss. Concerned for him, she also felt guilty for the unstoppable flicker of relief that he wasn’t already taken. Not that she had any future with him. Or with anyone. But she couldn’t help wondering what had happened… or question why he hadn’t told her himself. Not that it was her business. She respected his privacy. And she hadn’t told him her secrets.
Discovering how protective and possessive she felt of Gio was disconcerting. She knew the answer to some of Rita’s questions, but she would never divulge them. Not even to Brianna and Megan. Not because they might gossip, they wouldn’t, but for much more complicated reasons. She didn’t want to admit to her friends, or to herself, how much she enjoyed and looked forward to Gio’s company.
After Gio had returned to the hospital on the evening of his first day and had found her in PICU with the Rowlands, they had spent well over an hour in the canteen together. She’d had little time to wonder if he’d overheard any of her conversation with Cody’s mother because she’d been pole-axed by the charge of electricity and blaze of sensual awareness that hit her every time she saw him. He’d looked gorgeous in jeans and a blue shirt, the shadow of stubble darkening his masculine jaw making him seem rakish and dangerous.
The canteen had been far less crowded than it was now, Jess acknowledged, shifting her chair in to allow a group of nurses to pass and access a nearby table. Gio had chosen a full meal, while she’d opted for a small bottle of mineral water and a packet of sandwiches… out of habit selecting things in disposable packaging. She hadn’t budgeted for an extra snack, but as she’d not eaten anything but a banana and an apple since breakfast, she’d been hungry.
Having sunk everything she’d had into buying her cottage, she was counting every penny. The storm damage had been an unforeseen disaster but the insurance company was going to cover repairs for her roof despite the policy only being a month old. Having overstretched herself on the property, she was having to be frugal with everything else, not that she had hinted at the sorry state of her finances to Gio—or anyone else.
‘Have you always worked here?’ Gio had asked, turning their conversation that first night away from his patients and to work in general as he’d tucked into his dessert.
‘No. I joined St Piran’s when I was in the final year of my training,’ she’d explained to him, amazed he’d found room for apple pie and cream after the large portion of lasagne that had preceded it. ‘They asked me to stay on once I’d qualified.’
What she hadn’t told him had been the extent of her relief that she’d not needed to move on again, something she had done several times since the life-changing bombshell had brought things crashing down around her. She’d carved out a niche for herself in St Piran, fulfilling a role that patients, relatives and staff all appreciated and which allowed her some welcome autonomy.
‘You don’t see patients in your office?’ Gio had queried.
‘Very rarely—although I have done so if circumstances required it,’ she replied, thinking of Izzy, the young A and E doctor who, then six months pregnant, had wanted to return to work after taking leave following the traumatic time she had experienced.
It hadn’t been easy, for Izzy or herself, but things had worked out well. Now Izzy had a beautiful baby girl and an amazing new man in her life in the shape of attractive Spaniard Diego, who had been a charge nurse in NICU/SCBU, and Jess wished them all the happiness in the world.
‘My role is more immediate,’ she had gone on to tell Gio. ‘I give emergency help to those who need it, be that on the wards, in A and E, or elsewhere in the hospital.’
‘Like the Rowlands.’ Gio’s smile had nearly stopped her heart.
‘Y-yes.’ Flustered, she’d tried to get a grip. ‘There can be a wide variety of situations… parents making difficult decisions about treatment for their child, or a young man who has crashed his motorbike and, overnight, has gone from being fit and active to waking up in hospital to the news he’ll never walk again. Or it could be an older person who’s had a stroke and is unable to return to their home. Or a relative in A and E trying to come to terms with a sudden bereavement.’
Something dark and painful had flashed in Gio’s intense blue eyes, alerting Jess to the possibility there had been some traumatic event in his past. She hadn’t pried, and Gio had declined to refer to it, but she had wondered about his background.
‘So you see people through those first stages?’ he’d asked next, pushing his empty dish aside and reclaiming her attention.
‘That’s right. Sometimes people need a shoulder to cry on and a friend in their corner. Others need greater help and back-up. I can liaise with other departments and with agencies outside the hospital that can offer care, advice and support, like social services, or relatives who have expectations that the patient may not want,’ she’d explained, finding him easy to talk to. ‘My job is to support them and their rights, and to help them achieve the best solution to whatever problem they’re facing. If they need ongoing counselling once they leave hospital, they are assigned to one of my colleagues through Outpatients, or to an outside support organisation.’
Gio had shaken his head. ‘I hadn’t realised the full extent of what you do for people. It’s very impressive… you’re very impressive. I can see why everyone here respects you so much.’
The admiration in his eyes and praise in his sexy voice had warmed her right through and brought an uncharacteristic sting of tears to her eyes. ‘It’s hardly brain surgery,’ she’d quipped to mask her embarrassment.
Gio’s husky chuckle of appreciation had tightened the knot of awareness low in her tummy, and a sudden wave of longing had stolen her breath and made her realise how alone she had been these last four years. She enjoyed a friendship with Megan and Brianna, but it didn’t extended beyond work and could never fill the cold and lonely void that had grown inside her since her life had turned upside down.
‘Your first day’s been hectic and hasn’t ended in the best of ways, but how have you found St Piran’s?’ Jess had asked, anxious to move the conversation away from herself.
‘I would rather not have returned to Theatre for that poor girl tonight,’ he’d admitted, and she had seen the lines of tiredness around his eyes. ‘But I’ve enjoyed today and it’s good to be in near the beginning of a new unit for the hospital. It was one of the reasons I took the job. I was impressed with Gordon Ainsworth, the senior neurological consultant, the state-of-the-art equipment and the plans to increase the neurosurgical services here. Being able to help shape those services and build my own team appealed to me. Of course, many people cannot understand why I would leave London to come here.’
‘It’s none of their