The Doctor's Lost-and-Found Bride. Kate Hardy

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      Chapter Three

      ON THURSDAY morning, Max was walking into the department when he heard Kelly on Reception say, ‘Hey, Marina! How’s Phoebe doing?’

      ‘She’s on the mend. It’s just a tummy bug.’ Marina smiled. ‘That’s the worst thing about being a medic—you know the worst-case scenarios, and instead of seeing a simple tummy bug you imagine it’s the winter vomiting virus and all the complications that go with it.’

      Max knew exactly what she meant, though sometimes medics went the other way, going into complete denial when faced with the evidence—just as they had done four years ago. They’d managed to convince themselves that Marina wasn’t having a miscarriage, that the baby they hadn’t planned but had both wanted so much would be just fine…And when they’d finally had to face the truth it had hurt even more.

      ‘Though Rosie’s pretty upset that she’s not getting her usual visitor on the ward this morning. I rang her at breakfast, so Phoebe could say hello down the phone, but it’s not the same as being able to cuddle her.’

      Max knew he really shouldn’t be listening in—it was nothing to do with him any more—but he’d always liked Marina’s elder sister. Unless Rosie had changed career and become a medic like Marina, it sounded as if something was wrong. Why would Rosie be in hospital? And why was Marina taking her daughter to visit her sick aunt every single day?

      ‘How’s Rosie doing this morning?’ Kelly asked.

      ‘She’s fine. Missing Phoebe and Neil like crazy, of course, but everyone knows she won’t stick to bed rest at home.’ Marina spread her hands. ‘I mean, you can’t if you have a toddler as lively as Phoebe.’ She laughed. ‘Mum’s always telling Phoebe that she’s exactly like her Aunty Rina was at the same age—covered in glitter and paint half the time, and pedalling round on her tricycle the other half.’

      Everything suddenly fell into place for Max, and for one crazy moment he found himself on the point of whooping with delight and doing a happy dance all round the department.

      The toddler Marina had been carrying—the one she’d gone to pick up from the nursery—was her niece, not her daughter.

      As Rosie had the same colouring as Marina, and similar features, of course there’d be a strong physical resemblance between aunt and niece. And that in turn meant that the man Marina had kissed in the corridor had been her brother-in-law, not her partner. The Petrelli family had always been warm and tactile, and Max had kissed Marina’s sister, mother, aunts and grandmother exactly the same way himself before their marriage had fallen apart.

      How stupid he’d been.

      Then again, Max had never been able to think straight around Marina. Not from the moment he’d met her as a wet-behind-the-ears junior doctor who made very sure she pulled her weight on the team and did her best to reassure her patients. They’d gone for a coffee after that first shift, and had dated every night after that. The more time he’d spent with her, the more deeply he’d fallen in love with her.

      Small wonder that they’d gone to bed together within a week and had moved in together within a month. They hadn’t wanted to spend a single moment apart.

      Yet they’d spent the past four years as far apart as they could be: Marina in London, and he moving from disaster zone to disaster zone, pushing himself to the limit so he wouldn’t have to think about how much he’d lost.

      He closed his eyes briefly. Now wasn’t the time or the place. He and Marina were going to have to talk about it, but not now, and definitely not here. Right now, he had a job to do. And so did she.

      Marina was rostered on the children’s section of the emergency department that morning; that was good, because it meant she didn’t have to see Max. Not unless there was a really difficult case where she needed a second opinion. But she was in luck: her first case was a toddler who’d stuffed a plastic bead up her nose, her second was a child with a cough that she suspected was asthmatic, and her third was one who’d fallen in the playground and gashed his arm deeply enough to need stitches and a lot of reassurance. All things that needed a bit of time, reassurance and TLC as well as medical treatment, and she knew she was perfectly capable of dealing with all of them on her own.

      Everything was fine until she took her break. The second that she made herself a mug of coffee in the kitchen, Max walked in, as if he had some weird kind of radar that told him exactly when she’d be there.

      ‘How’s Phoebe?’ he asked.

      ‘Doing OK, thanks. Mum’s looking after her today again.’

      He made himself a coffee, then took a bar of chocolate from the pocket of his white coat, snapped it in half and handed half to her.

      She accepted it without thinking, the way she always had when they’d worked together. ‘Thanks.’ Then she stared at the chocolate, suddenly realising what they’d both done.

       Just like old times.

      Except they’d both come a long way in the last four years.

      ‘I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning,’ he said with the quirky smile that had once made her knees melt.

      She remembered those days. Even though their flat had been a ten-minute walk from the hospital, they’d never had time for breakfast. Because they’d been too busy СКАЧАТЬ