Reminding herself never to go off with strangers again, she walked down the corridor, tapped on the door of Room 3 and walked in, determined to persuade them to choose another midwife.
A broad-shouldered man had his arm round a very pretty young blonde woman who was gasping in pain.
Zan frowned, forgetting her problems for a moment as she hurried across to her. ‘Is it bad?’
‘Terrible.’ The young woman could hardly speak, her eyes closed in agony.
‘Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth—slowly,’ Zan instructed. ‘That’s better. And again…’
She helped Abby with her breathing until the contraction had ended and then moved her across to the bed.
‘Slip your shoes off and pop up on there. I’ll need to examine you and then we’ll have a conversation about pain relief.’
Abby caught her breath and then looked at her curiously. ‘Are you Zan?’
Zan reached for the blood-pressure cuff and nodded, trying not to look at the dark-haired man hovering next to them. He was breathtakingly handsome.
And he looked like Carlo.
‘I’m Abby.’ The young woman gave her a friendly smile. ‘We’ve heard lots about you—Carlo said you’re the best midwife he’s ever worked with. This is my husband, Nico.’
‘Nice to meet you.’ Zan felt a lump building in her throat and concentrated on taking her patient’s blood pressure.
‘That’s fine.’ She removed the stethoscope from her ears and sat down on the bed with a blank set of notes. ‘You’re not booked in with us so I don’t know your medical history.’
Abby smiled. ‘I’m booked at Carlo’s clinic in Milan, but then he had to come here so I followed him. I’ve been staying in London for the past few weeks. I wanted him nearby when I delivered.’
She obviously thought that Carlo walked on water.
Zan tried to smile. ‘So…’ The words stuck in her throat. ‘Does Carlo know you’re here?’
‘Of course.’ It was his brother who spoke this time, his English perfect. ‘He’s joining us shortly.’
And at that moment the door opened and Carlo strode in, his face strained.
‘Ciao, bella.’ He embraced Abby and his brother and proceeded to conduct a conversation in rapid Italian while Zan tried not to look at him.
That one quick glance when he’d walked through the door had been more than enough to remind her of why she’d behaved so recklessly.
He was stunningly good-looking and h
ad an air of calm authority that transmitted itself to those around him. No wonder she’d fallen so hard. What woman wouldn’t? What she needed to know was how she was going to get up again.
Finally he ended the conversation and gave Abby a reassuring smile. ‘It will be fine, angelo. Trust me.’
Unable to stand any more, Zan gritted her teeth and left the room to fetch the CTG machine that would measure Abby’s contractions and the baby’s heart-rate.
Trust him.
She’d done that once and look where it had led her.
Carlo followed her out of the room and walked purposefully across to where she was standing.
She tensed, painfully conscious of his close proximity.
‘Her blood pressure is fine,’ she said formally. ‘I haven’t examined her yet, but I’m going to do that next. She seems to be having quite strong contractions so I need to talk to her about pain relief and—’
‘Zan,’ he interrupted her, his voice low. ‘Abby can wait for one more minute. We need to talk about last night.’