Claiming His Pregnant Princess. Annie O'Neil

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СКАЧАТЬ that ridiculously huge, pink cushion-cut diamond ring—a family heirloom, she’d said—was etched in his mind’s eye as clearly as the day she’d told him she was moving back to Italy. Family, she’d said. Obligations. Tradition.

      He yanked the curtain shut, unable to move as he processed what he’d seen. Pleasure? Pain? Satisfaction that neither of them had succeeded in gaining what they’d sought?

      A chilling numbness began to creep through his veins.

      No sign of a ring.

      Nothing.

      Each and every one of her fingers was bare.

      * * *

      Bea’s heart was thumping so hard behind her simple cotton top she was sure her patient could see it.

      Even though she had taken longer than normal to put on her hygienic gloves, Leah would have had to be blind not to notice her fingers shaking.

      Jamie Coutts.

      The only man who’d laid full claim to her heart.

      Why wasn’t he in England?

      Leaving Jamie had been the most painful thing she’d ever done. The betrayal she’d seen in his eyes would stay with her forever. Having to live with it was so much worse.

      “Is everything all right?” Leah asked.

      “Si, va bene.” Bea gave her head a quick shake, pushed her hands between her knees to steady them and reminded herself to speak English. She had a patient. Rehashing the day she’d told the man she loved she was going to marry another would have to wait.

      “Let’s take a look at this leg of yours.” Bea gave her hands a quick check. Jitter-free. Good. “Cycling, was it?”

      “We were coming down one of the passes,” Leah confirmed, her wince deepening as Bea began gently to press the blue pads of her gloved hands along the injury. “A car came up alongside me. I panicked and hit the verge too fast.”

      “A fall when you’re wearing these clip shoes can be tough. It looks largely superficial. Not too much bleeding. But from the swelling on your knee it looks like you took quite a blow.” Bea glanced up at her, “I’m just going to take your shoes off, all right? Do you feel like anything might be broken? Sprained?”

      Leah shook her head. “It’s hard to say. I think it’s the road rash that hurts the most, but my knee is throbbing!”

      “Did you get any ice on it straight after you fell? A cool pack?”

      “No...” Leah tugged her fingers through her short tangle of hazel curls, loosening some meadow grass as she did so, before swiping at a few more tears. “The guys had all ridden ahead. Downhill pelotons freak me out—and I wasn’t carrying a first-aid kit with me. A local couple saw me fall and brought me here.”

      Poor thing. Left to fend for herself.

      It’s not any fun, is it, amore?

      Bea gave her a smile. “Trying to keep up with a peloton of adrenaline junkies is tough.” She pushed herself back on the wheelie stool and looked in the supplies cart for the best dressings. “I don’t think you’ve broken anything, but it’s probably worth getting some X-rays just in case.”

      “But we’ve still got four more days of riding!” Leah protested, the streaks of dirt on her face disappearing in dark trickles as her tears increased. “Richard’s going to think I’m such a weakling. This was meant to be the time I showed him I could keep up with the boys.”

      Bea took a quick glance at Leah’s fingers. Bare, just like hers. “Boyfriend?” she chanced.

      “Probably not for long. He’s going to think I’m such a wimp!”

      “With a road rash like that?” Bea protested with a smile. “This shows exactly how tough you are. I’ve had men in here with half the scraping your thigh has taken, howling like babies.”

      “Howling?” A smile teased at Leah’s lips.

      “Howling,” Bea confirmed with a definitive nod.

      She wouldn’t mind tipping back her head and letting out a full-pelt she-wolf howl herself right now, but instead she told herself off in her mother’s exacting tones. Princesses don’t howl. Princesses set an example.

      She screwed her lips to the right as she forced her attention back to Leah’s leg. “Mi scusi, I can’t see what I need to dress this leg of yours in here. I want to get some alginate and silver dressings for you.”

      “What are those?”

      “They’re both pretty amazing, actually. You should get some dressings to carry in your pack. There are derivatives from algae in one of them—really good for wounds like this. Ones that ooze.”

      Leah sucked in her breath after touching a spot on her thigh. “It’s so disgusting.”

      “It’s not pretty now, but it will definitely heal well. Once the dressing gets wet, it will begin to form a gel and absorb any liquid from the abrasion.” She pressed her hands into her knees and put on her best I-know-it-stinks face. “Keeping the wound moist is essential to preventing scarring. The dressing I’m hoping to use contains silver. It’s antibacterial, so it will keep the wound clean of infection.” Bea tipped her head to catch Leah’s eye before she rose. “Are you going to be all right for a few minutes while I get the supplies?”

      Leah half nodded, her interest already diverted as she pulled her phone out of her bag and flicked on the camera app. “I’m going to send the guys some pictures. Give them a proper guilt trip for abandoning me.”

      “Back in a minute,” Bea said unnecessarily as Leah snapped away.

      No doubt the photos would be hitting all sorts of social media sites in seconds. She’d taken all those things off her telefono within hours of the wedding being called off. She’d even tried throwing the phone in a canal when some wily reporter had got hold of her number, but Francesca hadn’t let her.

      “Just put the thing on Mute or change your number,” Fran had insisted. “Use us. Stay contactable. We want to help.”

      If only someone could help. But she and she alone had got herself into this mess.

      Bea hurried into the supplies room before a fresh hit of tears glossed her eyes. She missed her best friend. Could really do with a Bea-and-Fran night on the sofa. A pizza. Box set. Bottle of wine—nope! Nix the wine. But... Oh...nix everything. Now that Fran had gone and fallen in love with Luca, and the pair of them were making a real go of the clinic at Mont di Mare, Bea would have to make do on her own. And stay busy. Extra busy. Any and all distractions were welcome.

      She forced herself to focus on the shelves of supplies, desperate to remember why she’d gone to the room in the first place.

      “Hello, Beatrice.”

      She froze at the sound of Jamie’s voice. Then, despite every single one of her senses being on high alert, she smiled. How could she have forgotten it? That Northern English lilt of his accent. The liquid СКАЧАТЬ