The Italian Surgeon's Christmas Miracle by Alison Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

habitation.’
    ‘ We love it.’ Amy’s heart sank at the wobble in her voice. She could do with a chair to hang onto herself. How had that confidence she’d brought downstairs with her evaporated so instantly?
    Maybe there was a disadvantage to wearing her uniform, as well. The confidence might be part of her work frame of mind but work was a place where no one would dream of disputing the authority of someone like Luke Harrington.
    Someone whose wrath was feared. You made sure children were where they were supposed to be when Mr Harrington was due for rounds. You picked up toys that could be tripped over. You made absolutely sure that any test results were available and you sympathised with the registrars and housemen who had to work to their utmost ability to win recognition from this perfectionist surgeon.
    ‘You’ll find something else is far more suitable,’ Luke said firmly. ‘A house that has adequate insulation and central oil-fired heating and plumbing that works, for instance.’
    He was so confident. Standing there all dark and serious and so sure of himself. So far above Amy in any pecking order she could think of. It took courage to stand up to him.
    ‘We can’t afford to rent a house like that. Not big enough for all of us. Not in central London, that’s for sure.’
    ‘So move away from London, then. Surely a rural environment would be a better place to be running a…whatever the modern equivalent of an orphanage is?’
    ‘A foster-home,’ Amy responded quietly. ‘And some of these children retain contact with their birth families. Kyra visits her mother every couple of weeks. She’s hoping she can move home again one day. That contact would be lost if we moved away.’
    Amy took a step closer. She had to make him see how important this was. Her voice rose but she was pleased to hear it gaining strength. ‘We’d probably lose the children because Social Services tries to place them in a radius of their own homes for precisely that kind of reason. They need something familiar in their territory like a school. And besides…’ Amy straightened her back and glared at Luke, outrage colouring her tone. ‘This is my home . I came here to live when I was ten years old. When my dad died. Uncle Vanni was like a father to my sister and me. There’s no way he would have wanted us to lose this house. There is another will. There has to be.’
    ‘Arrangements are already in place,’ Luke said with finality. ‘The house is going to be demolished.’
    ‘Over my dead body!’ Amy snarled.
    The surgeon was clearly taken aback by such blatant defiance. But then he simply turned away as though he couldn’t see any point in continuing this discussion. He was avoiding eye contact. He didn’t intend to be persuaded that any viewpoint other than his own might be legitimate.
    ‘We’re going to contest the will,’ Amy added bravely. She stared at the vein on Luke’s temple that had become suddenly more obvious. He had to be incredibly angry. Beside the vein, the tiny line of a scar ran from the side of his left eye upwards to disappear under the waves of dark hair. She’d never noticed that before, but why would she? The only times she had been this close to the surgeon had been when he’d been wearing a hat and mask.
    ‘Have you any idea how horrendously expensive that would be?’
    ‘We’re getting legal aid.’ Amy crossed her fingers behind her back. She hoped they were getting legal aid. ‘And there’s no way you can do anything about demolishing this house while we’re still living in it and…and we’re not moving.’ She resisted the urge to add, So there!
    That scar was disconcerting. The kind of scar that could be left from a long-ago injury. Clearly, her unexpected and unwelcome visitor was telling the truth but it begged the question of why Uncle Vanni had not known the truth.
    Or had he?
    Amy tilted her head just enough to be able to discern that scar again. Had Uncle Vanni been