Once a Ferrara Wife... by Sarah Morgan

Author:Sarah Morgan [Morgan, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-1-4089-2633-8
Publisher: HarlequinUKLtd
Published: 2011-08-20T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

THE door slammed.

Cristiano flinched, the sound reverberating through his skull.

He stared at the empty space that moments before had held Laurel and her suitcase. A furious, fire-breathing Laurel. Even when he heard the revving sound of an engine vanishing into the distance he still didn’t move. He was incapable of moving. His brain and body felt disconnected, frozen at the point she’d made her shocking confession.

Ectopic pregnancy?

She’d almost died?

As the stark, shocking truth sank into his brain he stumbled through to the bathroom and was violently ill.

His brain produced a kaleidoscope of vile images. Laurel clutching her phone, confessing that she had a bad feeling. Him, switching his phone off while he went into one more meeting. And the worst image of all—a bunch of gowned surgeons battling to save the life of the woman he loved.

A life he hadn’t even known was at risk.

A love she didn’t believe in.

Trying to clear his head, Cristiano lurched into the shower and turned the jets on full force and the temperature to cold.

Minutes later he was shivering, but his brain still wasn’t functioning.

He kept thinking of her alone in a hospital room, her fears dismissed by those closest to her.

Her accusation that he was the one who had pushed her to confide in him and trust him rang loud in his brain. He remembered that single phone call with uncomfortable clarity, including the part where he’d placed all his trust in the doctor’s opinion and dismissed her anxieties.

Phone call. He had to make a phone call.

Cristiano turned off the shower, knotted a towel around his hips and sleepwalked back into the bedroom, trying to remember where he’d put his phone. He stared blankly at his suit, strewn carelessly on the floor in the hot burn of passion.

She’d almost died.

Picking up his trousers, he fumbled blindly in the pockets. No phone. Surely he’d had it with him last night?

Why hadn’t the hospital called him when she was admitted?

Distracted by that question, he picked up his jacket and his phone slid out of the pocket and fell onto the tiled floor with an ominous crack.

Broken, he thought. Like everything else around him. And all through his own carelessness.

Trying not to compare that livid line now dividing the screen with the state of his marriage, Cristiano punched in the number of the hospital, relieved to find that the phone still worked.

His reputation meant that he was instantly put through to the relevant person.

Unsettled to find that the hand holding the phone was shaking, he sank onto the sofa.

When the consultant at the hospital refused to divulge any information on Laurel’s case without her permission, Cristiano tried asserting his authority but in truth he had none and the man wouldn’t betray patient confidentiality.

Feeling uncomfortably as if he was losing his grip, Cristiano pulled on his clothes from the night before and dropped his shattered phone into the pocket of his trousers.

Nothing the doctor told him would have changed the way he was feeling anyway.

The details about what had happened at the hospital were irrelevant now.

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