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Fiona McArthur, Margaret McDonagh, Jennifer Faye
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About the Authors

A mother to five sons, FIONA MCARTHUR is an Australian midwife who loves to write. Medical Romance gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! Now that her boys are older, Fiona and her husband Ian are off to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures. Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthur.com

Award-winning author JENNIFER FAYE pens fun, heart-warming romances. Jennifer has won the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, is a TOP PICK author, and has been nominated for numerous awards. Now living her dream, she resides with her patient husband, one amazing daughter (the other remarkable daughter is off chasing her own dreams) and two spoiled cats. She’d love to hear from you via her website: www.JenniferFaye.com

MARGARET MCDONAGH says of herself: ‘I began losing myself in the magical world of books from a very young age, and I always knew that I had to write, pursuing the dream for over twenty years, often with cussed stubbornness in the face of rejection letters! Despite having numerous romance novellas, short stories and serials published, the news that my first “proper book” had been accepted by Mills & Boon for their Medical Romance line brought indescribable joy! Having a passion for learning makes researching an involving pleasure, and I love developing new characters, getting to know them, setting them challenges to overcome. The hardest part is saying goodbye to them, because they become so real to me. And I always fall in love with my heroes! Writing and reading books, keeping in touch with friends, watching sport and meeting the demands of my four-legged companions keeps me well occupied. I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I loved writing it.’

www.margaretmcdonagh.com margaret.mcdonagh@yahoo.co.uk

A Taste of Italy

Midwife, Mother…Italian’s Wife

Fiona McArthur

The Playboy of Rome

Jennifer Faye

St Piran’s: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride

Margaret McDonagh


www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 9780-1-474-08150-4

A TASTE OF ITALY

Midwife, Mother…Italian’s Wife © 2011 Fiona McArthur The Playboy of Rome © 2015 Jennifer F. Stroka St Piran’s: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride © 2011 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

Midwife, Mother… Italian’s Wife

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

The Playboy of Rome

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

EPILOGUE

St Piran’s: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

About the Publisher

Midwife, Mother…Italian’s Wife

Fiona McArthur

For Rosie and Carol, my fabulous friends,

who put up with those phone calls when I’m stuck.

CHAPTER ONE

AS A reluctant best man, Leonardo Durante Bonmarito caught the unashamed adoration on the groom’s face as he circled the room with his new bride, and knew his own earlier arrival in Australia would have made no difference.

Leon’s intention of stopping this wedding had faltered at the first sight of Gianni at the airport because nothing would have prevented his brother from marrying this woman.

Such happiness made Leon’s chest hurt and he’d never liked wedding feasts. It was even harder when he felt insulated from the joy and gaiety around him by the fact he still hadn’t had a chance to talk to Gianni properly since arriving.

‘Not a big fan of weddings?’ The words were mild enough but the tone held a hint of quiet rebuke. Tammy Moore, chief bridesmaid and for tonight his partner, spoke at his shoulder and Leon returned to the present with a jolt. She went on, ‘We’re supposed to join them on the floor now.’

‘Sì. Of course. My apologies.’ Automatically he glanced around and down and unexpectedly his vision was filled with the delightful valley between her breasts.

He swept his eyes upwards and her dark brows tilted at the flicker of a smile he couldn’t help.

It was a problem but what was a man to do with a bodice just under eye level? It would be strange dancing with a woman willow-slim in body and almost as tall as himself. She felt twice the height of his late wife.

He wondered if others might think they looked good together. Little did observers know their rapport had been anything but cordial, because he feared he hadn’t endeared himself to her.

Leon repressed a sigh. He’d barely talked, in fact, it seemed he’d forgotten how to be at ease with a young woman, but in his defence, his mind had been torn between the recent danger to Paulo and when he could discuss it with his brother.

Tammy tapped her foot with the music, surely not with impatience, as she waited for them to join the bride and groom on the floor and he’d best concentrate. He hoped it would not be too much of a disaster because his heart wasn’t in it. ‘You are very good to remind me,’ he said by way of apology, but she didn’t comment, just held out one slender hand for him to take so the guests could join in after the official party was on the floor.

The music wheezed around them with great gusto if not great skill, like a jolly asthmatic between inhaler puffs, and Leon took her fingers in his and held them. Her hand lay small and slim, and somehow vulnerable, in his clasp, and suddenly he wasn’t thinking of much except the way she unexpectedly fitted perfectly into his arms, her small breasts soft against his chest, and her hair smooth against his face.

In fact, her hip swung against his in seamless timing as if they’d danced together to a breathless piano accordion since birth.

Such precision and magical cadence took him from this place—and his swirling, painful thoughts—to a strange mist of curative tranquillity he’d craved since not just yesterday but from the haze of time in his youth.

Where was the awkwardness that’d always seemed to dog him and his late wife whenever they’d danced? The concept deepened the guilt in his heart and also the frown across his brows.

‘You sway like a reed in my arms.’ He tilted his head in reluctant approval. ‘You must dance often.’

He thought he heard, ‘Nearly as often as you frown, you great thundercloud.’ The unexpected words were quiet, spoken to his feet, and he must have heard wrong because she followed that with, ‘Yes, we love dancing here.’

He decided he was mistaken, but the humility in her expression had a certain facade of mock innocence, and made his suspicions deepen with amused insight. Then he caught his son’s eye as they swept past, and Leon raised his eyebrows at the flower girl standing beside him.

Paulo glanced at the young girl and then back at his father, nodded and took her hand to lead her into the dance. Tammy followed his gaze and smiled stiffly, something, he realised guiltily, she’d been doing for a couple of hours now.

She slanted a glance at him. ‘Does your son dance as well as his father?’

They both turned their heads to watch the children waltz and Leon felt the warmth of pride. Paulo did well and it had not been an easy few days for him. ‘I hope so. He has been taught. A man must be able to lead.’

‘Emma’s daughter can hold her own,’ she murmured, and he bent his head closer to catch her words. Did the woman talk to him or to herself? An elusive scent, perfectly heated by the satin skin of her ridiculously long neck, curled around his senses with an unexpectedly potent assault. Without thought he closed his eyes and inhaled more deeply. This scent was a siren’s weapon, yet she portrayed none of the siren’s tricks.

He realised with delay that she’d continued the conversation. ‘We have a bring-a-plate country dance once a month in the old hall. The children enjoy it as much as the adults.’

Leon eased back, he hoped unobtrusively, to clear the opulent fog from his mind but his voice came out deeper than he expected—deeper, lower, almost a caress. ‘So dance nights are common in Australia?’ What was happening? His brain seemed to have slowed to half speed as if he’d been drugged. Perhaps she did have tricks he was unaware of.

He lifted his head higher and sought out his son. The most important reason he needed his wits about him. Whatever spell she’d cast over him, he did not want it.

No doubt she’d sensed the change in him. He could only hope he’d left her as confused as she’d left him. ‘To hold a dance is not unusual in a country town.’ Her dark brows drew together in a glower such as she’d accused him of.

‘Of course.’ Thankfully, this time, his voice emerged normally, though he wondered if she could hear the ironic twist under the words. ‘My brother is full of the virtues of your Lyrebird Lake.’ And its incredibly fertile qualities, but he wouldn’t go there.

She lifted her chin high and stared into his eyes as if suspicious of his tone and the implication he might disparage her hometown. Her irises were a startling blue and reminded him of the glorious sea on the Amalfi Coast, disturbingly attractive, yet with little waves of tempest not quite concealed and a danger that could not be underestimated. He knew all about that.

She went on in that confident voice of hers that managed to raise the dominant side of him like hairs on his neck. ‘Lyrebird Lake has everything I need,’ she stated, almost a dare to contradict.

He bit back the bitter laugh he felt churn in his chest. A fortunate woman. ‘To have everything you want is a rarity. You are to be congratulated. Even if it seems a little unrealistic for such a young woman with no husband.’

Tammy smiled between gritted teeth. This man had created havoc in her usual calm state since the first moment she’d seen him. Too tall, too darkly handsome with sensually heavy features and so arrogant, so sure of his international power. Fancifully she’d decided he’d surveyed them all as if they were bush flies under an empty Vegemite jar.

One more dance and she was done. She felt like tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the music to start again now the guests and not just the wedding party filled the floor.

It had been as if he’d barely got time for this frivolity of weddings, such an imposition to him, but she’d stayed civil because of Emma, and Gianni, obviously the much nicer brother of the two. But soon this last dance would be over, then everyone else would not notice her slip away. The official responsibilities she’d held would be complete apart from helping the bride to change.

No more being nice to Leonardo Bonmarito.

Though Tammy did feel sorry for Paulo Bonmarito, a handsome but quiet and no doubt downtrodden child, and she’d asked her own son to look after him. Nobody could call her Jack downtrodden.

As if conjured by the thought, eight-year-old Jack Moore, another young man resplendent in his miniature wedding tuxedo, walked up to Paulo. They looked almost like brothers, both dark-haired, olive-skinned boys with the occasional awkwardness of prepubescence. Then Jack tapped the young Italian boy on the shoulder as he and Grace waited to begin again. ‘My dance now, I think.’

That wasn’t what she’d envisaged when she’d said watch out for Paulo. Leon’s back was to the children and Tammy frowned as she strained to hear as they stood waiting.

‘You said you weren’t dancing,’ she heard Grace say, and the girl looked unimpressed with swapping for a boy she always danced with.

Jack shrugged as he waited for Paulo to relinquish his partner. ‘Changed my mind.’

Without looking at Jack, Paulo bowed over Grace’s hand, kissed her fingers in the continental way with practised ease and shrugged. ‘Non importo. Grazie,’ he said, and turned with head high and walked away.

The music started and the dance floor shifted like a sleepy animal awakening. Leon’s son leaned with seeming nonchalance against a flower-decked pole and watched Grace being swung around easily by Jack. Like his father, his face remained expressionless and Tammy wondered if Paulo was used to disappointment.

When the dance was over, Tammy eased her hand out of Leon’s firm grip as unobtrusively as she could and stepped back. She only just prevented herself from wiping her hand down the side of her bridesmaid dress to try and diffuse the stupid buzz of connection she could still feel.

The contact hadn’t been what she expected and the dancing had increased her need to distance herself from this haughty stranger even more. It had been ridiculous the way they’d danced together as if they’d spent years, not seconds, training to synchronise. Not a common occurrence with her local partners but maybe she was imagining it just because he was taller and stronger, and decidedly more masterful, than most men she danced with.

Or maybe the strength of her disquiet about him had made her more aware. Either way she wasn’t interested and needed to get away from him to her friends.

‘Thank you.’ She didn’t meet his eyes and instead glanced around at the crowded dance floor. ‘Everyone seems to be up now. If you’ll excuse me?’

Leon raised one sardonic eyebrow at her apparent haste. ‘You have somewhere you need to run off to?’

She opened her mouth to fabricate an excuse when the glowing bride, her best friend, Emma, dragged her smiling new husband across to his brother. ‘Tammy! You and Leon dance wonderfully together.’ She beamed at her husband, and the look that passed between them made Tammy glance away with a twist of ridiculous wistfulness.

‘Almost as good as us,’ Emma went on. ‘Isn’t my wedding beautiful?’

‘Truly magnificent,’ Leon said, and glanced at Gianni. ‘Your organisational skills exceed even what I expected.’

‘Nothing is too perfect for my wife.’ Gianni, tall and solid like his brother, stroked Emma’s cheek, and then looked across at Tammy. He smiled. ‘And your partner for tonight?’ He kissed his fingers. ‘Bellissimo. You, too, are blessed, brother. Tammy is another of the midwives here. Has she told you?’

‘We’ve had little time for discussion.’ Leon leaned forward and unexpectedly took Tammy’s hand in his large one again. He held it firmly and the wicked glint in his eyes when he looked at her said he knew she wouldn’t quibble in front of her friend. ‘I was just going to find us a drink and sit down for a chat.’

Dear Emma looked so delighted Tammy didn’t have the heart to snatch her fingers free, so she smiled, ignored the restart of the buzz in her fingers and wondered bitterly if her teeth would ache tonight from all the clenching she’d done today.

The music started and Gianni held out his hand to his wife. Emma nodded. ‘I’ll see you back at the bridal table, Tammy, after this dance. I want to tell you something.’ Then Emma smiled blithely at them, sighed into her husband’s arms and danced away.

Tammy looked around for escape but there was none. Trapped by her friend. Great. Leon held firmly on to her hand and steered her off the floor towards the official table. Unobtrusively Tammy tugged at her fingers and finally he let her hand free. She leaned towards him with a grim smile and, barely moving her lips, let him have it. ‘Don’t ever do that again or you will get more than you bargained for.’

‘Tut. Temper.’ He glanced down at her, amused rather than chastened by her warning, which made her more cross.

She grimaced a smile again and muttered, ‘You have no idea,’ as he pulled her chair out. She slipped into the chair and shifted it slightly so that it faced towards the dance floor and her shoulder tilted away from him.

When he returned with two tiny champagne flutes Leon was fairly sure she didn’t realise the angle she gave him lent a delightful view of her long neck and the cleft below the hollow of her throat…and there was that incredible drift of scent again.

He controlled his urge to move closer. This woman had invaded his senses on many unexpected levels and here he was toying with games he hadn’t played since his amorous youth.

‘Drink your wine,’ he said.

She turned to him and her eyes narrowed blue fire at him. ‘Were you born this arrogant or did you grow into it?’

So, her temper remained unimproved. She amused him. He shrugged and baited her. ‘Bonmaritos have been in Portofino for six generations. My family are very wealthy.’

She lifted one elegant shoulder in imitation. ‘Big deal. So were mine and my childhood was less than ideal.’

‘And you are not arrogant?’ To his surprise she looked at him and then smiled at his comment. And then to his utter astonishment she threw back her head and laughed. A throaty chortle that had his own mouth curve in appreciation.

Her whole face had softened. ‘Actually, I’ve been told I am.’

When she laughed she changed from being a very attractive but moody woman into a delightful seductress he could not take his eyes off, and when she shuffled her chair back and studied him for a change, he felt the shift in their rapport like a fresh breeze. A dangerous, whimsical, warning breeze that he should flee from.

He shifted closer. ‘So tell me, Tammy, is this your full name?’

‘Tamara Delilah Moore, but nobody calls me that.’

‘Delilah I believe. Tamara?’ He rolled the name off his tongue as if sampling it, found the taste delightful and he nodded. That suited her better. ‘There was a famous noblewoman called Tamara in Roman mythology. She, too, was tall and apparently rather arrogant. How ironic.’

‘Really?’ She raised those stern eyebrows of hers and Leon realised he liked the way she responded fearlessly to his bait. ‘What if I say you’re making that up?’

The music lilted around them playfully and helped the mood stay light. ‘I would have to defend myself.’

She glanced down at her hands and spread them to look at her fingertips as if absorbed in her French manicure. He almost missed her comment. ‘You nearly had to defend yourself in a more physical way earlier.’

So. More fire. He straightened and met her eyes with a challenge. ‘I had the utmost faith in your control. You’d exhibited control all day. It’s a wonder your teeth aren’t aching.’

She blinked, glanced at him with an arrested expression and then laughed again. He felt the smile on his face. A deeper more genuine smile than he’d had for a long time. It felt surprisingly good to make her laugh.

Not something he’d been known for much in the past but her amusement warmed him in a place that had been cold for too long. ‘Of course I also have a slight weight advantage.’

‘And I have a black belt in karate.’ She picked up one of the biscotti favours from a plate on the table and unconsciously broke a piece off, weighing it in her hand before putting it to her mouth. That curved and perfect mouth he’d been trying not to look at for the past ten minutes.

Karate. He searched for an image of sweating women in tracksuits he could call to mind, or the name of the white pyjamalike uniform people wore for martial arts, anything to take his mind off the sight of her lips parting as she absently turned him on.

‘How long are you staying before you head back to Italy?’ she said carelessly as she raised the biscuit shard. His gaze followed her fingers, drawn by invisible fields of magnetism and, unconsciously, he held his breath. Gi. The uniform was called gi.

Her lips opened and she slid the fragment in and licked the tips of her fingers, oblivious to his fascinated attention as she glanced at the dancers. His breath eased out and his body stirred and stretched in a way it hadn’t in a long time.

Then she glanced back at him and he had to gather his scattered wits. When was he leaving? Perhaps sooner than he intended if this was how tempted he’d already become. ‘Gianni and Emma are away for the first few days of their honeymoon, and then Paulo and I will join them at the airport before we all return to Italy.’ He was rambling.

He focused on the plans he’d finalised before he left for Italy. ‘We were held up.’ He paused. His grip tightened unconsciously on the glass in his hand and he looked away from her—that brought him back to earth. There was no time for this when the real world required constant and alert attention.

He shook his head and went on. ‘We were held up on the way over and arrived later than expected. It will give Paulo a few days to get over the “excitement” before we have to return.’ She nodded.

Jack appeared at her side and tugged on her dress. ‘Excuse me, Mum. Can we go and play spotlight?’

Tammy looked away from this suddenly much more attractive man to her son and the world started again. What was she thinking? She blinked again to clear her head and swallowed the last of the biscuit. ‘Who with?’ she asked Jack, and looked beyond him to the milling group of young boys and girls.

‘Dawn and Grace, and Peta and Nicky. And some of the older kids as well.’ He glanced at Leon. ‘And Paulo if he wants to?’

Leon frowned and looked across to where his son was talking to Grace and another girl. ‘What is this “spotlight”?’

Tammy shrugged. ‘Hide-and-seek in the dark and the seeker has a handheld torch or spotlight. The children play it all the time here when parties like this stretch into evening.’

Leon’s frown didn’t lighten. ‘Even young girls? Without parents supervising?’

‘They won’t go far.’ She looked at Paulo, who pretended he didn’t expect his father to say no. ‘Let him go. He’ll be fine.’

Leon hesitated, and she wondered if he’d been this protective since the boy’s mother had died. Overprotecting children made her impatient but she held her tongue, if not her expression, and then finally he nodded.

‘Perhaps for a short while.’ He tilted his head at his son and Paulo approached them. He spoke in Italian and Tammy looked away but she couldn’t help overhearing.

She had no trouble interpreting Leon’s discussion with his son. She’d been able to speak Italian since her teenage years in a dingy Italian coffee shop in Sydney, dark with dangerous men and a tall Italian youth she hadn’t seen since but wasn’t allowed to forget. Those memories reminded her why she wasn’t attracted to Leonardo Bonmarito.

‘Do you wish to play this game?’ Leon said to his son.

‘Sì,’ said Paulo, and he looked away to the other children.

‘Be aware of your safety,’ Leon continued in his native language, and Tammy frowned at the tablecloth in front of her. It seemed a strange thing to say at his brother’s wedding in a country town.

‘Sì, Padre, of course,’ Paulo said again, and when his father nodded he ran off to join the children. Tammy hoped she wiped the expression from her face before she glanced back at Leon. Listening to Leon talk to his son brought back many memories and it had surprised her how easily she slipped back into recognising the words.

‘Your son has beautiful manners. Is he allowed to play with other children much?’

It was her turn to be frowned on. ‘Of course.’ No doubt she’d offended him. Oops, she thought without remorse.

Leon went on in a low, steely voice that made her eyebrows rise. ‘He attends school. And your Jack? He appears very confident.’ His eyes travelled over her. ‘Like his mother.’

She shrugged. Tough if he had a problem with that. ‘There’s only been Jack and me together, although my father and my stepmother have always been very much a part of his life since he was born. They live next door.’

She saw his gaze drift to his brother and the planes of his angular face softened as he nodded. ‘Family is important. Especially when one’s family is smaller than God intended.’

There seemed a story there. She wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at. Did he have plans to enlarge his family? Was he here to convince his brother to take his wife back to Italy for good? Perhaps it would be better to know one’s enemy, as good as an excuse as any for plain old nosiness, but she had to admit to herself he intrigued her. ‘So, both your parents are gone?’

‘Sì.’ Reluctance in the answer. ‘They died when we were young.’

She should stop the questions, but maybe now a silence would be even more awkward, or that’s what she told herself as she asked the next. ‘To lose a parent is hard, to lose both would be devastating. Especially as I believe you are the eldest of the two of you?’

He shrugged and his voice had cooled. ‘By four years. It was my responsibility to be the head of the family.’

At how old? she wondered. ‘No other relatives to look after you?’

He answered almost absently as his attention was distracted by the calls and laughter of the children. ‘An elderly widowed aunt who has since passed away.’ He frowned again as Paulo ducked with a grin behind a dark bush.

He really did have issues with Paulo playing with the other children, Tammy decided. ‘And Emma says you lost your wife last year?’

His gaze snapped back to her and this time he raised haughty brows at her. ‘Molto curioso,’ he said.

Yes, she couldn’t deny she was curious. She looked at him blandly as if she had no idea what he said, until he inclined his head and continued on a different topic. ‘It is good to see Paulo with a smile on his face. They have been too rare in the past year.’

The pang of sympathy for both of them reminded her of the past as well. ‘And now your own son has lost his mother. It’s hard to lose your mother.’

Now that brought back memories she’d rather forget but felt obliged to share as she’d been so nosy. ‘Even difficult mothers. I was fifteen when I lost mine. Went to live with my mother’s mother.’ She laughed with little amusement. ‘Who said my living there made her feel too old. Such a silly woman.’

‘Perhaps it is my turn to be curious?’ It seemed Leon waited for her to enlarge on the topic. Not a hope in Hades.

She said the first thing she could think of to avoid a discussion of her ridiculous past. ‘Would you like to dance again?’ She discovered as she waited for his answer the idea held definite appeal.

His mouth tilted and she knew he was aware of her sudden change of subject. ‘I would like that very much.’

The palpitations came out of nowhere. Just started to thump in her chest as he stood—and from where she sat he filled her vision; he truly was magnificent—then drew her up, with that strong hand of his closing on hers. She felt weightless, like a feather, and a little airy like a feather too, which wasn’t like her as she drifted across to the floor where the piano accordion was valiantly attempting to play a waltz.

It was okay to enjoy a dance. With a skilled partner. Nothing wrong with that. His arms came around her and she closed her eyes, giving in to the moment for once, not fighting the magic that had surprised her earlier in the evening. This was what dancing was for. She just hadn’t realised she’d been searching for the right partner.

CHAPTER TWO

TAMMY missed the moment when the music stopped until Leon’s arm drifted down her back to her hip and he angled her towards the bridal table. The tiny, secret smile on her face fell away with her trance. How embarrassing.

His fingers were warm on her skin through the thin material of her bridesmaid dress as he led her back to her chair.

Both of them were silent. And that serves me right for letting my guard down, Tammy thought, as she tried to think of something to say that would dispel the myth she’d been lost in his arms.

In the end she was saved by the bride. ‘You two seem to be getting along very well.’ A glowing Emma grinned at them as she and Gianni approached the table. When her husband held her chair for her Emma sank thankfully down and fanned her face. She looked from one to the other but neither spoke.

Leon murmured his thanks as he lifted his hand in a ‘spare me a moment’ gesture to his brother. Then he slanted a glance at Tammy, his face serious as he caught her eye, before he and his brother walked off just a few paces.

Tammy saw Leon’s glance flick to the boys as they disappeared around the corner of the building but her attention was brought back to the table by Emma’s excitement. ‘The dancing is such fun.’ Emma waved her hand some more as she tried to stir the warm air. ‘Did you have a good chat with Leon before the dance? I wondered if you’d find much to talk about.’

‘We talked about the boys,’ Tammy said, and then she heard Leon ask Gianni, in Italian, if he thought the spotlight game was safe enough. He was back to that.

Tammy strained her ears for Gianni’s answer, his affirmative clear, but then something Leon said very quietly made Gianni stop suddenly and stare and the two men moved further out of earshot, both bristling, and she had the sudden ridiculous thought that they were like a pair of wolves hunting in the night.

The darkness of a black shadow ran icy fingers over her neck and she shook the feeling off mostly because she didn’t do premonitions, and secondly because it wasn’t a happy wedding-day vibration at all and a far cry from the heady bubble of the dance floor.

She turned to Emma and worked to dispel the unease that lingered despite her efforts to banish it. ‘So what were you so anxious to tell me that I had to sit beside your brother-in-law and wait with bated breath?’

‘Poor you. Was he such a hardship?’ Emma teased.

Tammy glanced towards the spot where the men had disappeared. ‘It’s been a long day,’ she said cryptically, ‘but perhaps he might not be as bad as I thought.’

Emma’s brows crinkled. ‘Good.’ Though now there was a trace of doubt in her voice. ‘Because I want everyone to get on well.’ Emma looked for the men too, and back at Tammy. Then all the excitement caught up with her again and Tammy vowed to be more careful not to blemish her friend’s day.

‘My news?’ She smiled happily. ‘Well, first Leon’s talking to your father about some project in Rome so he and Paulo are not flying back immediately.’

Tammy knew that, and didn’t see much there to be excited about. She didn’t like the uncomfortable feeling the man left her with.

Emma bubbled on. ‘So Leon and Paulo are staying here until after we come back from our mini honeymoon and then we’re going to Italy for a month’s holiday. Gianni asked if in a couple of weeks you and Jack might like to come over and be with me while he has to sort out work commitments with his brother.’

Tammy raised her eyebrows and her friend went on. ‘So Grace and I won’t get bored?’ Emma looked at her expectantly. ‘What do you think?’

What did she think? That this was the last thing she’d expected. Did she want to go to Italy? While she could admit Emma’s new husband had turned out to be a delightful and doting husband, initially she hadn’t been overly impressed with his brother.

And now it was more the effect he had on her that had her squirming to find a matching excitement her friend would like. ‘I guess I’d have to think about it. See if Montana has enough staff to cover at the birth centre, work out which of my birthing women are due.’

She shook her head. ‘Take Jack overseas? I don’t know.’ To Italy of all places.

Emma nodded her understanding. ‘Think about it. Oh, and I gave Leon your mobile number. Hope you don’t mind. In case we’re out of range and he needs something.’ Emma seemed to think it was no great moment. She was still focused on the Italian trip. ‘It’s just an idea but I love the sound of both of us in Italy.’

Tammy could see she did. And normally she’d like the idea too. Overseas travel was something she’d done a lot of in her early teens with her parents and she’d been to Italy once. Maybe that had been the start of her attraction to Italians. She tried not to think of him having her number and then decided he didn’t look like a stalker. He only had a few days to stalk anyway.

The men came back, both faces too angled and sombre for a wedding feast, though Gianni smiled at his wife when he reached her side. He held out his hand. ‘Do you still wish to circulate through the guests, cara? I believe a few of the older guests are starting to leave.’

Emma allowed herself to be drawn up and against her husband’s chest for a brief hug, as if the two of them had spent a day apart and not a few minutes, and Tammy couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever have such a love as that. She damped down the almost irresistible urge to sneak a glance at Leon’s face to see what he was thinking. When she did he was looking at her and for some bizarre reason her face flamed.

Thankfully, her friend seemed oblivious to Tammy’s own embarrassment as she stepped, pink-cheeked, back out of her husband’s arms. ‘I haven’t spent much time with Louisa. Shall we see her before she goes?’

‘Indeed.’ Gianni smiled warmly. ‘I will inquire if she thinks my brother can be as excellent a guest as when I stayed with her.’

They walked away and Leon sat down. She saw him again seek the boys out in the shadows. ‘Everything okay?’ Tammy searched his face but the mask he’d arrived with earlier in the day was firmly back in place. She could read nothing and it irritated her for no good reason.

He inclined his head. ‘Of course.’

‘So you and Paulo have settled into the old doctor’s residence with Louisa for a few days?’

‘She has made us very welcome.’ This time he did smile and the sudden warmth in his eyes did strange, unsettling things to her stomach. Things she hadn’t had a problem with for nearly ten years. Maybe she was hungry. Though that seemed unlikely as the wedding feast had more choices than a country fete.

The thought came out of nowhere. What would he be like to kiss? Her belly twisted. Great, she’d bet. He had amazing lips, like sculptured marble on a work of art. Good grief. She checked out her nails again, to hide her eyes.

He went on. ‘Paulo has never had so many affectionate embraces and we have only been there since last night.’

‘Louisa loves a cuddle.’ It was amazing she could carry on a conversation and be so focused on his mouth. She risked a glance. ‘She’s a recent widow.’ Yep, they still looked good.

Leon concentrated on Louisa, whom he could see behind the dancers, the little woman who’d made his son so welcome, and thankfully the tension eased. He wasn’t sure where it came from but he’d felt the sudden rise between them. ‘My brother told me of her loss. And that is why he asked we stay there. It is no hardship.’

He kept his eyes on his brother and his wife across the floor. In fact, even this wedding had become no hardship. It was surprising how resigned he’d become to his brother’s fate. And in a few short hours, partly because no one could doubt the true bond between the newlyweds, and partly because all of the people he’d met here tonight had exuded such warmth and generosity towards him and his son.

Except this woman.

The thought made him smile for some reason, as if the challenge for supremacy between them had taken on a new urgency. He fought the errant concept away. No. Perhaps it had been too long since he had set aside time to share intimacy with a woman. The chance of a brief liaison with this Tamara was tantalising but remote. Too much was happening.

And she would be the last to welcome him. The thought made him smile again. He’d somehow offended her, and he searched his memory for that ridiculous saying he’d heard today—he’d got up her nose. And such a delightful nose it was. He smiled again. She was not showing a warm or generous side to him at all but he perceived she had one, which in fact was lucky, because he became more intrigued every minute he spent with her.

Tammy saw him smile at the thought of Louisa. So he did have a soft spot for elderly widows. The idea dangerously thawed a little more of her reserve and she reached for another unwanted biscuit to distract her concentration from this handsome, brooding man beside her.

She felt his attention and when she glanced at him there was a sudden darkening of his eyes that arrowed that sharp sensation of hunger right back through her midsection. She felt the wave of heat between them like a furnace door opening.

‘Not again,’ he murmured. And then more strongly, ‘If you delicately consume another biscotti I will not be responsible for my actions.’ His voice was very quiet, and she realised they were alone at the table—in fact, alone at their side of the dance floor. The children shrieked with laughter in the distance just in view, Emma and Gianni were across talking to Louisa, and suddenly she couldn’t look away from him. Her stomach kicked again. She got the message.

She wasn’t sure what to do now with the biscuit she didn’t want, but blowed if she’d let him know he’d rocked her.

Did she look away and nonchalantly put it down or did she pull the tiger’s tail? There was no choice really.

Unhurriedly, with great deliberation, Emma raised the shard of almond to her mouth. With her eyes on his she parted her lips with seductive exaggeration and slid it slowly in, and chewed. It was hard to swallow with a dry mouth but she did. Choking would have ruined the impact. To drive home her point she calmly licked the sugar from her finger. One raised eyebrow left him in no doubt of her message. Don’t dare me.

Leon stood, took the arm that reached towards him—surely she hadn’t asked her fingers to do that—and Tammy found herself whisked back into the shadows with her hand in his. In an instant she was in his arms and his body felt warm and inflexible against hers. It had all happened so fast she doubted anyone had noticed she’d been abducted.

His eyes glittered in the low light. ‘You do not follow orders well, I think.’ She barely heard him over the thumping in her chest as he stared down at her, and there was something primal about the tree branch casting shadows across his face. ‘This night has been filled with intriguing moments. I cannot allow it to conclude without this.’ He bent his dark head towards her with such intent she froze as he brushed her neck with his lips. She shivered and all the hair on her arms whooshed into an upright position on little mountains of goose flesh.

‘Your scent has been driving me wild all night.’ His words hummed against her ear and thrummed down her throat as his lips travelled the sensitive skin around her jaw. She’d never felt exposed and vulnerable and yet starving for more.

His mouth took flight across her cheek like a hot moth that dusted both eyes before homing in on her mouth. Every nerve in her skin seemed to lean his way for attention, drawn to the light like a kamikaze insect, and she shuddered at the delicious sensations his whispered caress invoked.

Somehow her arms had wound themselves round his neck and she could feel the sinew and muscle in his shoulders, rock hard beneath her fingers. He had the power to snap her in two and they both knew it.

Then his mouth found hers, her stomach jolted and she swayed against him suddenly weak at the knees like an old-fashioned heroine. She’d never believed this would happen to her. A swoon from a man kissing her. It was ridiculous, and crazy, and…

‘It was a funny wedding,’ Jack said as he drove home with his mother.

‘Funny in what way?’ Tammy said extremely absently as she turned along the sweeping driveway out of the lakeside complex. When Leon had kissed her Tammy realised what she’d been missing for too many years. She’d kissed a few men, more to reassure herself she could get a man to the point, but never been enamoured enough to want to repeat the experience.

With Leonardo Bonmarito she’d wanted to do more than repeat it. She wanted next verse. Next chapter. The whole darn book and she knew where that could leave her. She prayed he hadn’t realised because she’d managed to step back before she’d dragged the buttons from his shirt. But only just. So she’d stepped away further, called her son and left fairly quickly after that.

‘Just different.’ The childish voice beside her reminded her why she’d stepped away. ‘And that kid’s different too.’

‘Paulo? I imagine they’d be saying the same thing about you if you turned up at a wedding in Italy.’

She glanced at Jack. Her miniature man in the house, whom she adored but had no blinkers about. ‘Which reminds me, you were impolite to push into that dance with Grace and Paulo.’

He looked away from her and squirmed a little. ‘She didn’t want to dance with him.’

‘That’s not what I saw.’

Jack sniffed and avoided his mother’s glance. ‘She danced with him later anyway,’ he muttered.

Tammy dimmed her lights for a passing car. ‘I wouldn’t like to think you were rude or acting the bully to a visitor, Jack.’

‘I don’t like him.’ More muttering.

Tammy frowned. Jealous brat. ‘Even more reason to be nice to him.’

Jack sniffed again. ‘Like you were nice to his father?’

Now where had that come from? Thank goodness it was dark and he couldn’t see the pink flooding her neck. Little ankle biter. She certainly wasn’t going there. Of course the children hadn’t seen. ‘Yes.’ She took the easy way out. ‘Did you all have fun playing spotlight?’

She caught the movement of his shoulder beside her as he shrugged. ‘He was scared half the time.’

The dark cloud of uneasiness slid new tendrils through her mind. Tammy glanced at her son and then back at the road. ‘Why do you think he was scared?’

Jack swivelled and she could tell without turning her head that he was looking at her. ‘What would you do if a man tried to kidnap me?’

Tammy blinked at the unexpected question and her hands tightened until they were almost white on the wheel. Someone take her son? Harm Jack? Threaten to kill him? ‘Tear him limb from limb.’ She shook the power of the unexpected passion off. Good grief, there’d been some emotional roller-coasters tonight. ‘What made you ask that?’

Such a little voice from the darkness. ‘He said it sometimes happens in Italy for ransom money.’

‘Who? Paulo?’ She’d read of it but didn’t want to think about such a crime actually happening. Europe was a long way from Lyrebird Lake. ‘Well, let’s hope someone doesn’t want to ransom you.’

Then he said it. Explained it. Let loose the cloud that turned from dark to black. ‘Just before they left to come to Australia somebody tried to take Paulo. That’s why they didn’t get here till yesterday.’

That couldn’t be true. ‘What do you mean? Who did?’ She slowed the car, then slowed it some more, which didn’t really matter because there wasn’t that much traffic around Lyrebird Lake. It would be better if she didn’t run into anyone.

‘They don’t know. His father caught them before they could get away but they put a bag over Paulo’s head and knocked him out.’

Tammy’s heart thumped under her ribs and she shivered at the thought of someone attempting to steal a child. Any child. Her child.

Then she remembered how she’d been less than diplomatic about Leon’s reluctance with the children’s game and she winced. Every instinct urged her to turn the car around and apologise to Leon for her ill judgement. Poor Paulo, poor Leon. And the kidnappers had struck a child. ‘Paulo told you this?’

Jack was losing interest. ‘No, Grace did. Paulo told her.’

Good grief. No wonder Leon hadn’t wanted him to play spotlight. It was amazing he’d let his son out of his sight at all. She glanced at Jack. ‘If that’s true, even you should understand why he was scared in spotlight.’

‘I guess.’ He looked at his mother. ‘You’d find me, wouldn’t you, Mum?’

She stretched her arm across and ruffled his hair with her fingers. The strands were fine and fragile beneath the skin of her fingertips and the sheer fragment of the concept of losing him tightened a ball of fear in her chest. ‘I wouldn’t rest until I did.’

Jack snuggled down in his seat. ‘I thought so,’ he said, and yawned loudly.

Tammy was glad to get to work the next morning. The night had been a sheet-crunching wrestle for peace that she’d only snatched moments of and this morning a rush to get a tired and cross Jack through the fence to Misty’s house.

Leon Bonmarito had a lot to answer for. She’d walked straight into a birth and thankfully hadn’t given the man a thought for the past three hours.

Tammy wrapped the squirming newborn infant in a fluffy white towel and tucked him under her arm like a football. Little dark eyes blinked up at her out of the swathe and one starfish hand escaped to wave at her. She tucked the tiny fingers in again and ran the water over his head as she brushed the matted curls clean. She grinned at his mother. ‘I haven’t seen such thick hair for a long time.’

Jennifer Ross watched with adoration as the little face squinted and frowned at the sensation in his scalp. ‘He’s gorgeous.’ She sighed and rubbed her stomach and her son turned his head in her direction.

‘Thanks for rinsing his hair for me, Tammy. I’m just not up to it.’ Even in the dimly lit corner of the room where the sink nestled Tammy could see him try to focus on the familiar sound of his mother’s voice.

‘We’ll just use water today. We’ll bath Felix properly tomorrow so we don’t overload his poor nose with baby bath perfume.’ Tammy combed a little curl onto his forehead and smiled. ‘He needs to feel secure, with your skin and his smelling the same as he remembers from inside you. It all helps with establishing breastfeeding. Like the way you waited for him to find the breast and didn’t push him on for that first feed.’

‘I can’t believe he moved there himself.’ Jen’s face was soft with wonder.

‘He’ll do it again too. That’s why it’s better not to wash your own hair with shampoo the first twenty-four hours. A strong scent like shampoo has can confuse and even upset his nose during that time.’

‘I’ll let Ken’s mum know when I ring her. She likes a heavy perfume but she’s a sweetie. She’ll give it a miss if I ask.’ Jen reached out and touched his little hand that had escaped again. ‘I remember when you told my sister only Mum and Dad should snuggle babies for the first twenty-four hours. She swears her second baby is much more settled.’

‘Best practice. But sometimes it’s hard to manage when everyone wants a hold.’

Jen rubbed her stomach again. ‘Better to do it right. If the after pains get much worse I might not have a third one,’ Jen said with a rueful smile.

‘Have a lie-down. You’ve had a big day and there’s a warm wheat pack on your bed. I’ll bring Felix in when I’ve dressed him and check your tummy.’ She cast her eye over the mum and decided she looked okay. ‘Let me know if you start to bleed more heavily.’

‘Thanks, I’ll do that.’ Jen smiled and turned gingerly with her hand holding her stomach. ‘I’m looking forward to that wheat pack. Ken’s so disappointed he wasn’t home for the birth. And I have to ring his mother and sister as well.’

‘Since when do babies wait for truck-driving daddies? Ken will just be glad you’re both well. Off you go. I’ll be in soon.’ She narrowed her gaze as the other woman hobbled out. Tammy wished Ken could have made it too. She wanted every mother’s birth to be perfect for them but sometimes babies just didn’t wait.

When Ben brought Leon in to see the unit Tammy had just towelled Felix’s hair dry. She was laughing down at him as she tried to capture the wriggling limbs and they’d moved to the sunny side of the room as she began to dress him. The early-afternoon sunlight dusted her dark hair with shafts of dancing light and her skin glowed.

For Leon, suddenly the day was brighter and even more interesting, although his tour of the facilities had captured his attention until now. Strangely all thoughts of bed numbers, ward structure and layout seemed lower in his priorities than watching the expressions cross this woman’s face. And brought back the delightful memory of a kiss that had haunted him long into the night in his lonely bed.

‘Hi, there, Tam,’ Ben said as he crossed the room. Tammy looked up at her father and smiled. Then she looked at Leon and the smile fell away. He watched it fall and inexplicably the room dimmed.

‘Hi, Dad. Leon.’ She looked at her father. Or perhaps she was avoiding looking at him, Leon surmised, and began another mind waltz of piqued interest that this woman seemed to kick off in him. ‘What are you men up to?’

‘I’m showing Leon the facilities. His board’s been thinking of adding maternity wards to their children’s hospitals and I thought you might like to hint him towards a more woman-friendly concept.’

Leon watched the ignition of sharper concentration and the flare of captured interest. She couldn’t hide the blue intensity in her eyes and silently he thanked Ben for knowing his daughter so well. So, Leon mulled to himself, he’d suddenly become a much more interesting person?

‘Really?’ She tossed it over her shoulder, as if only a little involved, but she couldn’t fool him—he was learning to read her like a conspiracy plot in a movie, one fragmented clue at a time.

She dressed the baby with an absentminded deft-ness that reassured the infant so much he lay compliant under her hands. Mentally Leon nodded with approval. To handle infants a rapport was essential and he was pleased she had the knack, though it was ridiculous that such a thing should matter to him.

When the newborn was fully clothed she nestled him across her breasts and Leon had a sudden unbidden picture of her with her own child, a Madonnalike expression on her face, and a soft smile that quickened his heart. More foolishness and he shook his head at the distraction the fleeting vision had caused.

Tammy tilted her determined chin his way and Madonna faded away with a pop. ‘I’ll just take this little bundle into his mother and come back.’

He watched her leave the room, the boyish yet confident walk of an athletic woman, not a hint of the shrinking violet or diffident underling, and he was still watching the door when she returned. That confidence he’d first seen was there in spades. She owned the room. It seemed he activated her assertiveness mechanism. He couldn’t help the smile when she returned.

She saw it and blushed. Just a little but enough to give him the satisfaction of discomfiting her and he felt a tinge of his awareness that he’d felt the need to do so.

She looked away to her father and then back at him. ‘What sort of unit were you looking at?’

Enough games. ‘Small. One floor of the building. Midwife run and similar to what your father has explained happens here, though with an obstetrician and paediatrician on call because we have that luxury in the city.’

He went on when her interest continued. ‘It would be situated in a wing of the private children’s hospital we run now. The medical personnel cover is available already, as are consulting rooms and theatres.’

She nodded as if satisfied with his motives and he felt ridiculously pleased. ‘We promote natural birth here and caseload midwifery. Do the women in your demographic want that sort of service? What’s your caesarean rate, because ours is the lowest in Australia.’ She was defiant this morning. Raising barriers that hardened the delicate planes of her face and kept her eyes from his. He began to wonder why she, too, felt the need. Molto curioso.

‘I’m not sure of the caesarean rate—obstetrics is not my area—but in my country most of our maternity units are more in the medical model and busy. Often so understaffed and underfinanced that the families provide most of the care for the women after birth.’

Tammy nodded and spoke to her father. ‘I’d heard that. One of my friends had a baby in Rome. She said the nurses were lovely but very busy.’

He wanted her to look back at him. ‘That is true of a lot of hospitals. This model would be more midwifery led for low-risk women.’ He paused, deliberately, before he went on, and she did bring her gaze back his way. Satisfied, he continued. ‘Of course, my new sister-in-law, Emma, is also interested and I believe there is a small chance you and your son could come to Italy in a few weeks?’ He lifted the end of the sentence in a question. ‘Perhaps the two of you could discuss what is needed and what would work in my country that is similar to what you have here.’

Tammy intercepted the sudden interest from her father and she shook her head at Ben. ‘I haven’t even thought much about the chance of travelling in Italy.’ Liar. The idea had circled in her head for most of the night. ‘I won’t say your idea of setting up midwife-led units isn’t exciting.’ But that’s all that’s exciting and you’re the main drawback. She repeated the last part of the sentence to herself. ‘But thanks for thinking of me.’

He shrugged those amazing shoulders of his, the memory of which she’d felt under her hands more than once through the night despite her attempts to banish the weakness, and she frowned at him more heavily.

‘It is for my own benefit after all,’ he said.

She remembered Jack’s disclosure, and the idea she’d had to apologise if she saw him, but it wasn’t that easy. All the time they talked, at the back of her mind, she wanted to ask about Paulo, about the truth in Jack’s revelation, and to admit she hadn’t understood his reserve and his protectiveness. But it didn’t seem right with her father there just in case Leon didn’t wish to discuss it. Or she could just let it go.

She owed him an apology. ‘Maybe we could meet for lunch and talk more about your idea,’ she offered, though so reluctantly it seemed as if the words were teased out of her like chewing gum stuck on a shoe. He must have thought so because there was amusement in his voice as he declined.

‘Lunch, no. I’m away with your father for the rest of the day but perhaps tonight, for dinner?’ His amusement was clearer. ‘If I pick you up? My brother and I share a taste in fast cars and we could go for a drive somewhere to eat out.’

She did not want to drive somewhere with this guy. A car. Close confines. Him in control. ‘No, thank you.’ Besides. It was her invitation and her place to say where they met. ‘You could come to my house, it’s easier. Bring Paulo if he’d like to come and he can play with Jack.’

She had a sudden vision of her empty pantry and mentally shrugged. ‘At six-thirty? I’m afraid Jack and I eat early or I can’t get him to bed before nine.’

He shook his head. ‘That does not suit.’

Tammy opened her eyes slow and wide at his arrogance and his inability to accept she wanted to set the pace and choose a place that would be safe.

But he went on either oblivious or determined to have his own way. ‘I will come after nine. When Paulo, too, is in bed. I am away all day tomorrow and we will be able to discuss things without small ears around us.’

Tammy caught the raised eyebrows and stifled smile on her father’s face and frowned. She’d never been good at taking orders. She bit back the temptation to say nine didn’t suit her, but apart from being different to what she usually did, she never slept till midnight anyway.

It would be churlish to stick to her guns. This once she’d let him get away with organising but he wouldn’t be making a habit of it.

She conceded, grudgingly. ‘I don’t normally stay up late but a leisurely after-dinner coffee could be pleasant.’

‘I’ll see you tonight, then.’ He inclined his head and Tammy did the same while Ben looked on with a twinkle in his eye. Tammy glared at her father for good measure which only made his eyes twinkle more as they left.

Tammy could hear the suddenly vociferous new arrival in with his mother and, glad of the diversion, she hastened to the ward to help Jen snuggle Felix up to her breast. She couldn’t help the glance out the ward window as the two men crossed the path to the old doctor’s residence.

She’d always thought her father a big man but against Leon he seemed suddenly less invincible. It was a strange feeling and she didn’t like it. Or maybe she didn’t like being so aware of the leashed power of Leonardo Bonmarito.

CHAPTER THREE

LEON arrived at nine.

‘So, tell me about your private hospitals. What made you choose paediatrics as a main focus?’

Be cool, be calm, say something. Leon made her roomy den look tiny and cramped. Not something she’d thought possible before. Tammy had run around madly when Jack had gone to bed and hidden all the school fundraising newsletters and flyers in a big basket and tossed all evidence of her weekly ironing into the cupboard behind the door.

She’d even put the dog basket out on the back verandah. Stinky didn’t like men. Then she’d put the Jack Russell out in the backyard and spent ten minutes changing her clothes and tidying her hair. Something else she hadn’t thought of before at this time of night.

But now she sat relaxed and serene, externally anyway, and watched Leon’s passion for his work flare in his eyes. She could understand passion for a vocation; she had it herself, for midwifery and her clients in Lyrebird Lake.

‘It’s the same in a lot of hospitals in the public system. The lack of staff, age of buildings and equipment and overcrowding means the convalescing patient is often cared for with less attention than necessary. With children that is doubly tragic.’

She couldn’t help but admire his mastery of English. Her understanding of Italian was more than adequate but her conversational ability was nowhere near as fluent and his occasional roll of the r’s made his underlying accent compellingly attractive. It did something to her insides. She obviously had a dangerous fetish for Italians.

‘This has concerned me,’ he went on, ‘and especially in paediatrics because children are vulnerable, more so when they are sick.’

That brought her back to earth. Children were vulnerable. He had great reason to believe that after Paulo’s incident but she’d get around to that. Get around to the fact she’d thought him overprotective. ‘I can see what you’re getting at. It’s hard because of priorities with those more ill. But I agree a lonely and convalescing child needs special care.’

He sat forward in his chair and his shirt tightened impressively across his chest. She didn’t want to notice that. ‘Sì.’ He was obviously pleased with her. ‘There is a shortage of empathetic time for those children on the mend but not yet well enough to go home. I had hoped to prevent their stay from becoming a more traumatic experience than necessary.’ He glanced up to see if she agreed and she nodded.

He was determined to ensure his goals were realised. ‘This is especially important if these children are dealing with other issues, such as grief from loss of loved ones, or difficult family circumstances.’

There was an added nuance in his voice that spoke of history and vast experience. An aversion to children suffering, perhaps more personal than children he’d seen in wards. The reason teased at her mind. ‘Was there something in particular that made you so aware?’

His answer seemed to come from another direction. ‘In our family all sons have entered the medical profession, though disciplines were left to our personal preferences. My grandfather was intrigued by surgery, my father ophthalmology. My passion lies with paediatrics and Gianni’s with emergency medicine. Paolo’s area is yet to be discerned.’

That made her smile. ‘Paulo’s a bit young to be worrying about disciplines, don’t you think? I doubt Jack would have a thought in his head about what he’ll do when he grows up.’

Leon shook his head. ‘In Italy a man learns at an early age that he will be responsible for others.’

‘Like dancing,’ she suggested. ‘A man must be able to lead?’

He returned her smile. ‘Sì.’

She couldn’t resist teasing him again. ‘So you turned your father’s eye hospitals into paediatric wards?’

He raised one stern eyebrow but something made her wonder if he was secretly smiling. ‘You do not really think that I would?’

There was a lot going on below the surface here. From both of them. She shook her head. ‘No.’ He wouldn’t do that. She knew little of him but already she could tell he would hold his father’s wish to provide service to the blind sacrosanct. ‘So the eye hospitals are thriving.’

There it was. A warm and wicked grin that wrapped around her like a cloak dropping over her shoulders. A cloak that enveloped her in all the unusually erotic thoughts that had chased around her head for far too long last night in bed. She was in trouble.

‘Sì. I built more hospitals. Designed especially for children and staffed with nurses who have much to offer an ailing or grieving child.’

He leaned back in the chair and the fine fabric of his handmade shirt again stretched tight across his chest. He picked up the tiny espresso coffee she’d made for him, black and freshly ground from the machine she couldn’t live without, and sniffed it appreciatively. He took a sip, and those large hands looked incongruous around the tiny cup. ‘Perfetto.’

She’d learned to make good coffee years ago and it was her one indulgence. She dragged her eyes away from his hands because down that road lay danger.

She remembered he and Gianni were orphans and the pieces fell into place. ‘How did your parents die, Leon?’

She had connected with his previous statement and why she could sense and understand meanings so easily from a man she barely knew was a puzzle she didn’t want to fathom. She wondered if it worried him as much as it worried her.

To her relief he didn’t try to avoid her question. ‘My parents drowned off the Amalfi Coast from our yacht in a storm.’

Drowned. Poor little boys. ‘Storms at sea.’ She sighed. ‘Mother Nature’s temper can be wild and indiscriminate,’ she said softly. His eyes gazed off into the distance and she was with him. She could almost feel the spray in her face and hear the scream of the wind and she nodded. ‘I’ve lived by the sea. The weather can be unexpected and fierce. My father still has a house on a fabulous beach, but even he nearly drowned one day when he was washed off the rocks.’

He was watching her, listening to her voice, but she could tell half of him was in another place. ‘What happened with you and Gianni?’

He looked through her and his voice dropped. ‘Gianni almost died, and I, too, had pneumonia.’ She glanced at his face and couldn’t help but be touched by his effort to remain expressionless.

‘And you were both in hospital afterwards?’ Spoken gently, because she didn’t want to break the spell.

He nodded and now she understood where his empathy for those in similar circumstances had grown from because she could see the suppressed emotion, even in the careful blankness. That concept hit her hard, in mutual empathy from her early teens and the scars she still bore. ‘How old were you when they died?’

Leon shrugged the pain away. ‘Fourteen.’ Grieving, convalescing, in a hospital that was rushed and old and unintentionally uncaring. With a ten-year-old brother he’d nearly lost as well.

She could see he knew she’d connected the dots. And wasn’t happy. ‘It is better in my hospitals now.’ He changed the subject. ‘To see what you do here, in your maternity section, is good too.’

She allowed the change of subject, aware instinctively how privileged she’d been to glimpse into the private man and sensitive to his need to close the subject. ‘The maternity hospital concept is an exciting idea. I’ll certainly talk to Emma about it.’

No doubt he would also be happy because it would mean his brother’s new wife would be interested in staying more often in Italy. She didn’t fully trust his superior motives without a thought for his ulterior ones.

He was watching her again and she wondered what he’d seen of her thoughts. Not much, she hoped.

‘So you, too, have suffered the loss of a parent?’ His turn to pry. ‘You said you lost your mother young, also?’

Not going there. Fifteen hadn’t been a good age to be allowed to run free. ‘Yes.’ The less said there, the better.

‘And that you lived with your grandmother?’ So he remembered. Deep creases marred his forehead. ‘Why did you not go with your father when your mother died?’

‘It’s a long story and maybe another day.’ She and her father would have preferred that and maybe her life would have been different. She shrugged her shoulders for something she’d no control over. Fifteen had also been a bad age to be told Ben wasn’t her real father.

Rebellion saw Tammy spend many hours loitering at that Italian coffee shop. Months had passed without her father’s knowledge of how little supervision her grandmother had exercised.

Rides in fast cars she later found out were stolen. Dark and dangerous men that even her boyfriend was wary of. Secret meetings she’d had to stay silent in.

The day Ben, her father in all that counted if not legally, had arrived to rescue her.

He’d picked her up from the coffee shop when she’d rung him to say she was pregnant and whisked her to Lyrebird Lake. He’d told her then they were petty criminals. Not long later she’d read that her baby’s father had been sent to jail for a long time.

No wonder she’d found it all so dreadfully, horribly exciting. That risk-taking and foolish time in her life was something she’d buried when she’d become a responsible mother.

Until Gianni had arrived in Lyrebird Lake and wooed her best friend, she’d covered the Italian episode in her life. Hadn’t even tried her language skills out on Gianni so she doubted there was anyone except her father, and maybe his wife, Misty, in Lyrebird Lake who knew her secret.

Emma’s betrothal had been such a whirlwind affair she hadn’t even mentioned it when her friend had fallen for Gianni.

But she had Jack. The light in her life. And she’d change nothing now. Except maybe the subject again.

She had other motives for asking him here and he’d stayed a while already. ‘There’s something I want to ask you, though you may not want to discuss it. Something that means I should apologise for my presumption without knowing the facts.’

He frowned and inclined his head.

She hesitated, because she didn’t really know him or how he’d react, and then typically, she dived in anyway. ‘Was Paulo almost abducted before you came here?’

His brows snapped together. ‘Who told you this?’

She straightened in her seat, refusing to be cowed. ‘Paulo mentioned it to Emma’s daughter, Grace.’ She didn’t say Grace had told Jack and Jack had told her.

His hand tightened on the cup he held and for a fleeting moment she had the ridiculous thought he might crush it without realising. Surely a man’s hand couldn’t really do that? In the silence she imagined she could hear the porcelain creak in protest.

‘This is true.’ He glanced at his white fingers and carefully put the cup down, then ran his other hand through thick black curls. She glimpsed the flicker of white-hot fury in his eyes and it was a warning of what he would be capable of. Strangely she had no problem with that. She’d almost pity the men who tried to harm his son if he caught them.

‘I was stupidly distracted by my wish to arrive well before the wedding and took too little care. We are not the first family to be targeted by those who wish to benefit financially from people they see as too wealthy.’

So it was true. The thought made her want to clutch at her throat but she kept her hands together in her lap as if to hold onto the pictures that wanted to rise up and fill her mind. ‘Good grief. What about the police?’

He inclined his head but the movement was noncommittal. ‘The police do their best to capture these criminals but by then it is often too late for the one abducted. This will not happen to my son or anyone in my family. I have a private investigator and bodyguards working with me full-time now. Experienced operatives whose records are impeccable and that I trust with my and my family’s lives.’

There was almost an aura around him and she recognised the implacable determination that would see him succeed in whatever he set his mind to. ‘So you believe Paulo is safe, now that these people work for you?’

He inclined his head. ‘Already they have paid tenfold for the money I retain them with. Those responsible have been passed over to the police. Paulo is safe now. No more at risk than any other boy, but it is hard not to look into the dark for danger.’

Who were these Bonmaritos her friend had bound herself to? These superficially cultured men who hid wolves beneath their Italian suits and hired bodyguards. More gangsters she’d fallen in with? Or truly philanthropic doctors merely protecting their own from a culture she didn’t understand.

‘This all sounds very James Bondish. Not something Lyrebird Lake would ever have to worry about.’ She said it firmly, and perhaps a little too quickly, but she really didn’t want to think of this scenario in her own home. In the lives of people she knew. In the man opposite her she was strangely drawn to. Dark forces she never wanted to be involved with again. It was too unsettling.

‘So my brother says. He does not believe I need the bodyguards here but, for the moment, it is for me. These and other reasons are perhaps why my brother and I should return to our homeland.’

Surely nothing would happen here? In Australia? She didn’t like any of this conversation and regretted what she’d discovered. She wondered if Emma was aware of the more menacing undercurrents of the Bonmarito family. ‘This seems a long way from discussing children’s hospitals and maternity wings.’

Visibly Leon forced his shoulders to relax. ‘I’m sorry, Tamara. I apologise if I’ve upset you. I still struggle with allowing Paulo out of my sight.’ But his face remained changed. Harshly angled and fierce. The face of the stranger he really was.

Her chin was up as if she needed to rise and meet the challenge of this warrior of a man. He didn’t frighten her but she gave him the respect he deserved. ‘And I apologise for judging your need to know where Paulo was the other night.’

He inclined his head. ‘You could not know.’ While the dangerous side to this handsome Italian made her uneasy, it was less upsetting when she thought of her own response when Jack had asked what she would do—limb from limb seemed pretty similar to Leon’s response. ‘The lives of children should be protected.’

‘Sì. And I should go to check Paulo. It is late.’ He stood and she rose also, and couldn’t squash the tiny irresponsible hope he would kiss her before he left. She walked him to the door and paused as she opened it. When she turned to him some of the hardness had faded from his face but there was enough of the wolf in him to still keep her head up as she met his eyes.

He had no difficulty seeing into her mind. His brows lifted. ‘Do you want to play dare again, little one?’

So he thought she was little? Danger shuddered deliciously along her veins and made her remember a time in her dim past when she’d put her ear to a train track, the early rumbles of an approaching train, the danger, the paralysing fear that screamed to move. ‘Should I in this mood you’re in?’

He stepped in. ‘That is enough answer for me.’

This kiss was different. Harder, decidedly more dominant with her crushed against his chest, and she pulled him against herself more to keep her feet on the ground and show she wasn’t subdued by him. But she was. They leaned into each other, searching out secrets, showing each other hidden facets of their souls rarely exposed like little shafts of moonlight illuminating the areas used to darkness. All the more penetrating because there was no future in it.

When he left her, she leaned her forehead against the closed door with her eyes shut and listened to his car purr away in the darkness.

‘Hit by the train,’ she murmured into the darkness.

The next day as Tammy worked her early shift in the birthing centre she found herself glancing out the windows whenever she heard male voices, and once she saw her father in the distance with Leon, two dark heads together. One that made her smile and one that burned her with the heat of that last hard kiss.

It was strange how Leon and Ben seemed to find a common ground and mutual respect when there was a good fifteen years difference in age. And she trusted Ben’s instincts implicitly so Leon must be ‘good people’.

Her stepmother, Misty, the second of the midwives to move to Lyrebird Lake Birthing Centre, arrived to take over the shift. She joined Tammy on the steps to wave goodbye to this morning’s new family.

‘So Gloria did well.’ They walked inside together and Misty grinned down at the birth register open on the desk. ‘And they finally have a daughter?’

‘In the bath at 10:00 a.m. She came out in three pushes and Gloria’s over the moon with how much better this birth was.’

Misty ran her finger along the page and raised her eyebrows at the baby’s weight. ‘Lovely. And you’re dropping there after work?’

Tammy bulldog-clipped the folder she’d completed. ‘I said around four. Give them all time to have a sleep. I said I’d pick up their Jimmy after school and give him a chance to meet his new sister.’

‘Sounds great.’ Misty glanced at her with an unusual thoroughness and Tammy felt as if her stepmother chose her words carefully. ‘Your father seems very impressed with Gianni’s brother.’

‘I was thinking that this morning.’ Tammy looked back at Misty with a smile. ‘What’re your instincts?’ There was more to the question than seemed on the surface. By ‘instincts’ Tammy meant those intangible nuances Misty was known for. Or even more to the point, had Misty had any of those eerie premonitions she occasionally experienced with startling accuracy?

Tammy didn’t try to understand Misty’s special gift, just accepted it for the reality it was and the fact that Misty had shown on occasion how useful her premonitions could be.

‘There’s something happening but I’ll let you know if I get worried. But I like Leon too. I think despite an illusion of aloofness he’s a man to be sure of in tough times. A man’s man perhaps, but I’ve always thought you hadn’t yet found a man you couldn’t walk over. He could be one of those and I’m looking forward to the tussle with great anticipation.’

Tammy slanted a look at her. ‘Not very motherly of you.’

Misty just smiled. ‘You never wanted me to be your mother, Tam. I’m grateful to be your friend.’

Tammy felt the prickle of tears. Not something she did often and she impulsively hugged Misty. ‘I’m the lucky one.’ She stepped back and straightened. ‘And I’m out of here. Jen’s staying another night until Ken comes home—the truck broke down at Longreach.’

She picked up her bag. ‘Trina’s at home in early labour, and she missed her last two appointments while away in Brisbane, so I’m not sure of her baby’s size. He was a little bigger than expected last time I saw her. She knows I’m concerned. She’s ringing after five so let me know if you need a hand. I’m on call tonight. Have a good shift.’

‘I understand Leon Bonmarito is visiting?’ Misty’s face was bland.

Tammy tilted her head. ‘That was last night.’

‘So it was.’ Misty nodded with a smile. ‘Enjoy your evening.’

CHAPTER FOUR

SO TAMMY wasn’t surprised when the doorbell rang at nine-thirty that night. Nor was she surprised at the identity of the caller. ‘Come in. I’m guessing Paulo’s asleep.’

‘And Louisa is watching over him. I am learning to trust he is safe again.’ Leon’s strong white teeth flashed in the low light. ‘I would like to take Louisa home to Italy. Perhaps a change of scenery would be good for her. Do you think she’d come?’

‘No.’ Louisa had been housekeeper at the old doctor’s residence, a short-term accommodation house for visiting doctors and nurses for a lot of years. Her husband had established Lyrebird Lake hospital and recently passed away.

‘I’m sure my brother has suggested I stay at the residence and not at the resort because he wants me to fall in love with Louisa’s cooking. And her stories. Has she told you about the myth of the lyrebird?’

Tammy had never been a fan of fairytales. ‘I’ve heard of it. In all my years at the lake I’ve never seen one. Emma has, twice, once with your brother.’ She smiled at how that ended. ‘You’d better watch out.’

He, too, smiled. ‘I think to see a bird will not change my life.’

‘Louisa’s husband used to say the lyrebird heals those in pain.’ She had the feeling Leon could do with a spot of healing but it was none of her business.

She returned to the notion of Leon worrying about Louisa. ‘Louisa spends time with her stepson’s family.’ She couldn’t help but think it strangely endearing that this big, quiet man was concerned for an elderly widow he barely knew. She’d made a mental note to visit Louisa herself in case she needed more company. ‘We won’t let you steal her. We’d all miss her too much.’

She glanced at the clock. ‘If you want a coffee, I’ll offer you one now. I’m on call and I know one of the girls has come in to birth with Misty and there’s another woman due out there.’

‘Please, to the coffee.’ He followed her when she stood and moved into the kitchen and she put her hand up to halt him at the door. He kept coming until his chest touched her fingers, a wicked glint in his eye that warned he didn’t take orders easily either, but then he stopped.

She shifted her fingers quick-smart and tried not to recognise how good the warmth of his solid chest had felt beneath her palm. She needed at least three feet between them for her to breathe. ‘If you can make my den feel small you’ll crowd my kitchen. Just stay there and let me work.’

He lifted one brow but obediently leaned against the doorframe, relaxed but alert, and they were both aware he was capable of swift movement, if he wished.

She breathed out forcefully as she turned away. Thank goodness he’d stopped. The guy was too much of a man to ignore when he was this close and a powerful incentive to get her chore done quickly and move out of here.

Then he said quietly, as if the thought had just occurred to him, ‘If you are called in to work, who is here for your Jack?’ Was that censure in his voice? Disapproval?

It had better not be. Nobody disapproved of her mothering. She flicked him a glance and his face was serious. ‘We have an intercom between the houses and I switch it on for my father to listen in. Jack knows he can call for his grandfather if I’m not around and Dad takes him next door.’ She glared at him and pressed the button on the machine for espresso and the beans began to grind—like her teeth.

‘And what if Ben is called out?’ Still the frown when it was none of his business but then, suddenly, she remembered he’d had a recent fright himself. One she’d put her foot in at the wedding. She eased the tension that had crept into her neck.

Of course he’d be security conscious. She didn’t need to be so quick to take offence. ‘We don’t do the same nights on call,’ she explained. ‘That’s the beauty of a small town and friends who organise rosters between families.’

The aroma of fresh beans made her nose twitch with calmer thoughts and she forced herself to stay relaxed. The guy could make her nerves stretch taut like a rubber band ready to snap back and sting her.

He nodded and looked at her almost apologetically, as if aware he may have overstepped a boundary. ‘I begin to see the sense of this place.’

To her further astonishment he smiled and added, ‘Perhaps I am less surprised at my brother’s decision to spend half his time here.’

She had the feeling that could’ve been a huge admission for him but she didn’t pursue it. She didn’t want him to think it mattered to her. It didn’t. Really. Time for a subject change. The coffee spurted from the twin spouts and filled their cups and she turned with them in her hands to face him.

He didn’t move initially and she realised her hands were full. He could touch her if he wished. She was defenceless. Something told her he realised it too. She lifted her brows at him and waited.

He grinned and heaved himself off the doorframe and stepped back to allow her past him into the den.

‘See how I understand your look?’

She bit back her smile as she sat his coffee on the low table almost on top of another of those fundraising pamphlets. She shifted it and her eye was caught by the title.

“Wanted! Man Willing To Wax Chest For Fundraising.”

She had a sudden image of Leon and the gurgle of laughter floated up like the brown bean froth in the cup.

‘You find that funny?’

She shook her head and bit her lip. She handed him the flyer. ‘Lucky you’re not here for long.’

He looked down at the paper and grimaced. ‘And a man would do this?’

She couldn’t help her glance at his broad chest, a few dark hairs gathered at the neck. ‘They haven’t found a volunteer yet. Want to offer?’

‘No.’ He shook his head with a smile. ‘Though—’ he paused and eyed her ‘—it would depend on who is doing the waxing.’ The look he sent her left no doubt there’d be a price paid for the privilege.

Tammy felt the heat start low down, potent and ready to flame, like a hot coal resting on tissue paper. Yikes. She snatched the flyer from him and stuffed it behind a cushion on the sofa. ‘Do you have much to do with young babies in your hospital?’

He settled back with a hint of smile and left the topic, clearly amused by her pink cheeks. ‘No. Neonatal surgery is too specialised and we don’t have a neonatal intensive care. But perhaps we would need a special care nursery if the maternity wing went ahead.’

He leaned forward and she could tell he was weighing possibilities and scenarios. She could see the big businessman she’d mentally accused him of being before she’d known him better, before she’d been kissed by him perhaps. But she had no doubt that if such a venture could be successful, then Leon would be the man to do it.

‘These are all things to be taken into consideration if we opened a midwifery service. I’m sure a lot has changed since my obstetric rotation a decade ago. At the moment of birth, I mean.’

She could talk about that all day—and night. ‘You’re right. Things have changed a lot.’ She tried to imagine Leon as a young medical student, diffident and overawed like those she’d seen in her training, but he was too strong a personality for her to imagine him ever being daunted by setting. ‘I think the biggest change here is to keep the baby with the mother at all times from the moment of birth. Not separate in a cot. With emphasis on skin-to-skin contact for the first hour at least. At birth, we try not to clamp the umbilical cord for a few minutes either, unless we really have to.’

He nodded with a little scepticism. ‘If the baby requires resuscitation?’

‘Sure.’ She brushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘Though not always. It’s a little trickier but the latest studies have shown that not cutting the umbilical cord for at least three minutes after birth is beneficial, though perhaps not that long in resuscitation.’

His face said he couldn’t see how that would work so she explained more. ‘We can give oxygen and even cardiac massage on the bed with the mother and that allows us to keep the blood flow from the cord as well. We’ve had great success with it. But then all our babies that come through the centre are low risk so any problems they have at birth are usually transient and should be resolved fairly quickly.’

He looked unconvinced and she couldn’t help teasing him. ‘Or is this a little too radical for your maternity hospital idea?’

‘I’m always willing to see and hear of new ideas.’ He raised his eyebrows at her comment, so quick to respond to any negative feedback she gave him, but she had no time to go on before the phone rang.

She dug her mobile out of her pocket. It was Misty and she had to leave.

‘Sorry. I’m needed in birthing. You’ll have to go.’ Leon’s eyebrows rose haughtily and Tammy almost smiled. She could tell he wasn’t used to that. A woman had to go and he would be left cooling his heels.

He stood, though to say he did it obediently didn’t suit the way he complied. ‘You are not in awe of me at all, are you, Tamara?’

She didn’t have time for this, unfortunately. ‘Should I be?’ She switched on the intercom between the two houses. ‘I hope I haven’t jinxed us talking about resuscitation and healthy babies.’

She saw his mind switch to the medical urgency. ‘What was said?’

She gave him half an ear as she scooped up her keys. ‘On the phone? Misty’s concerned at the delay in second stage, and there’s some unease with the baby’s heart rate,’ she murmured as she closed the front door behind them both. ‘If it was bad she’d ship them out to the base hospital, but backup is always good when the back of your neck prickles. Do you want to come?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m not registered in this country but happy to advise you if needed. Please.’

‘Fine. People know Gianni so they’ll have no problem accepting your presence.’

He hesitated at the two cars. ‘I’ll meet you there. No sense leaving your car or mine here because we don’t know how long you’ll be.’

They met outside the hospital and she let them in through the side entrance. Trying to remain unobtrusive they drifted into the birthing room and over to Misty. The lighting was still dim but Tammy saw the heater on for the infant resuscitation trolley and the preparations Misty had made. And the birthing mother, Trina, was beside the bed and not in the bath.

There was even a flicker of relief in her stepmother’s eyes when she saw Leon. Tammy’s stomach tightened. With uncomplicated births the midwife called a staff member from another part of the hospital as an extra pair of hands. If the midwife was uneasy she called the on-call midwife or doctor as a more experienced backup.

Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.

12,73 ₼
Yaş həddi:
0+
Litresdə buraxılış tarixi:
28 iyun 2019
Həcm:
502 səh. 4 illustrasiyalar
ISBN:
9781474081504
Müəllif hüququ sahibi:
HarperCollins

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