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

afraid of what might have been the result of an horrific head injury? Had the thought of trying to raise a disabled son alone been too much?
    No. That didn’t make sense because Uncle Vanni had devoted his life to helping other people’s children. Including disabled children, like Summer. But, then, why had he stayed in London and not returned to his native country? Because he couldn’t bring himself to get that far away from his son? It was confusing. Disturbing.
    ‘My solicitor will be in touch. His name is Reginald Battersby.’
    ‘I’ve met him.’ Amy stepped sideways, trying to position herself between Luke and the door. She couldn’t let him leave like this. Where had that ray of hope gone? He understood, didn’t he? He’d protected the children by going along with her lie.
    And what about that strange sensation she’d experienced when she had watched him listen to Summer’s chest without the benefit of a stethoscope? To see his ear laid so gently on tiny, fragile ribs? The way his half-closed eyes had made the dark fan of his eyelashes and the shadowing of stubble on his jaw so much more noticeable. There had been more than hope in the curiously warm, fizzy sensation flooding Amy at that point. Trust had been mixed with hope, dammit!
    What had changed while she had been upstairs? She couldn’t have been that wrong, surely? What had she done to deserve having that newfound trust broken?
    It wasn’t fair.
    More than that. It wasn’t right.
    ‘Why do you want to do this?’ Amy demanded. ‘What have you got against us?’
    ‘Nothing. Until very recently I had no idea my…father was living here. Until today I had no idea who you were.’
    That was a good way to fuel her anger. If he’d had no idea his father had lived here, it might explain why he’d never visited before, but she worked with this man, for heaven’s sake. He’d bawled her out only days ago, but she hadn’t been important enough for him to bother learning her name. Never mind what she’d seen with Summer. Luke Harrington was not a nice man.
    Amy’s control snapped. She was more than ready to go into battle to defend her family.
    ‘It’ll look good, won’t it?’ she said with deceptive sweetness. ‘The photo in the papers with us all sitting in the street? Right before Christmas. In the snow . With Summer’s oxygen cylinder. Millions of people will see that someone who’s supposed to care about children doesn’t really give a damn. Even about one of his own patients.’
    Luke’s face was grim. ‘That isn’t going to happen. Reginald is going to find suitable accommodation. For all of you.’
    ‘In the same place? I doubt it. We stick together here,’ Amy warned. ‘And I also doubt that your Reginald has any idea about what’s suitable. The man’s as old as Methuselah. He probably thinks foster-children should be earning their keep sweeping chimneys.’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
    But Amy was just warming up. ‘And even if you don’t give a damn about us, what have you got against this house? It’s gorgeous! Early Victorian architecture that deserves to be preserved. A lot of people will be very upset when they learn it’s going to be bulldozed. We’ll probably get any number happy to chain themselves to the railings. The media will love that, too.’
    ‘The house is falling down. It’s not even safe!’
    ‘It could be fixed.’
    ‘It would cost a fortune.’
    ‘From what I’ve heard, that’s exactly what you’ve got sitting in the bank!’
    Ooh, she’d stepped over the line now. Onto the kind of personal ground that hospital grapevines thrived on. Amy didn’t need to see the dangerous glint in Luke’s eyes to know that he would hate being the subject of gossip. She also had the distinct feeling she was going to regret this.
    ‘What makes you think I’m planning to keep the proceeds from this property?’ Luke snapped. ‘Not that it’s any of your damn business, but I intend to donate any profits