Hot Single Docs: The Playboy's Redemption: St Piran's: Rescuing Pregnant Cinderella / St Piran's: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride / St Piran's: Daredevil, Doctor...Dad!. Carol Marinelli

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      But in that moment all thoughts of Josh and Megan faded, all thoughts of Diego and romance too, because the back pain she had felt while sitting returned, spreading out from her spine like two large hands, stretching around to her stomach and squeezing. It wasn’t a pain as such, she’d been having Braxton-Hicks’ contractions, but this felt different, tighter. This didn’t take her breath, neither did it stop her swaying in the darkness with Diego, but she was more than aware of it and then it was gone and she tried to forget that it had happened. only Diego had been aware of it too.

      He had felt her stomach, which was pressed into his, tighten.

      He didn’t want to be one of those paranoid people. She was just dancing on so he did too, but he was almost more aware of her body than his own. He could feel the slight shift and knew that even though she danced on and held him, her mind was no longer there.

      ‘You okay?’

      ‘Great,’ she murmured, hoping and praying that she was. The music played on and Diego suggested that they sit this next one out. Izzy was about to agree, only suddenly the walk back to their table seemed rather long. The music tipped into the next ballad and Izzy leant on him as the next small wave hit, only this time it did make her catch her breath and Diego could pretend no more.

      ‘Izzy?’ She heard the question in his voice.

      ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘Can you get me outside?’ she said, still leaning on him, waiting for it to pass. ‘In a moment.’

      Their exit was discreet. He had a hand round her waist and they didn’t stop to get her bag, and as the cool night air hit, Izzy wondered if she was overreacting because now she felt completely normal.

      ‘Izzy.’ Discreet as their exit had been, Gus must have noticed because he joined them outside, just as another contraction hit.

      ‘They’re not strong,’ Izzy said as Gus placed a skilled hand on her abdomen.

      ‘How far apart?’ Gus asked, and it was Diego who answered.

      ‘Six, maybe seven minutes.’

      ‘Okay.’ Gus wasted no time. ‘Let’s get you over to the hospital and we can pop you on a monitor. I’ll bring the Jeep around.’

      ‘Should we call an ambulance?’ Diego asked, but Gus shook his head.

      ‘We’ll be quicker in my Jeep and if we have to pull over, I’ve got everything we need.’

      ‘I’m not having it,’ Izzy insisted, only neither Diego nor Gus was convinced.

      It was a thirty-minute drive from Penhally. Diego felt a wave of unease as Izzy’s hand gripped his tighter and she blew out a long breath. He remembered his time on Maternity and often so often it was a false alarm, the midwives could tell. Izzy kept insisting she was fine, that the contractions weren’t that bad, but he could feel her fingers digging into his palms at closer intervals, could see Gus glancing in the rear-view mirror when Izzy held her breath every now and then, and the slight acceleration as Gus drove faster.

      His mind was racing, awful scenarios playing out, but Izzy could never have guessed. He stayed strong and supportive beside her, held her increasingly tightening fingers as Gus rang through and warned the hospital of their arrival. A staff member was waiting with a wheelchair as they pulled up at the maternity section.

      ‘It’s too soon,’ Izzy said as he helped her out of the Jeep.

      ‘You’re in the right place,’ Diego said, only he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, feel the adrenaline coursing through him as she was whisked off and all he could do was give her details as best as he could to a new night receptionist.

      ‘You’re the father?’ ahe asked, and his lips tightened as he shook his head, and he felt the relegation.

      ‘I’m a friend,’ Diego said. ‘Her...’ But he didn’t know what to follow it up with. It had been just a few short weeks, and he wasn’t in the least surprised when he was asked to take a seat in a bland waiting room

      He waited, unsure what to do, what his role was—if he even had a role here.

      Going over and over the night, stunned at how quickly everything had changed. One minute they had been dancing, laughing—now they were at the hospital.

      The logical side of his brain told him that thirty-one weeks’ gestation was okay. Over and over he tried to console himself, tried to picture his reaction if he knew a woman was labouring and he was preparing a cot to receive the baby. Yet there was nothing logical about the panic that gripped him when he thought of Izzy’s baby being born at thirty-one weeks. Every complication, every possibility played over and over. It was way too soon, and even if everything did go well, Izzy would be in for a hellish ride when she surely didn’t deserve it.

      They could stop the labour, though. Diego swung between hope and despair. She’d only just started to have contractions...

      ‘Diego.’ Gus came in and shook his hand.

      ‘How is she?’

      ‘Scared,’ Gus said, and gave him a brief rundown of his findings. ‘We’ve given her steroids to mature the baby’s lungs and we’re trying to stop the labour or at least slow down the process to give the medication time to take effect.’

      ‘Oh, God...’ Guilt washed over him, a guilt he knew was senseless, but guilt all the same. However, Gus was one step ahead of him.

      ‘Nothing Izzy or you did contributed to this, Diego. I’ve spoken with Izzy at length, this was going to happen. In fact...’ he gave Diego a grim smile ‘...an ultrasound and cord study have just been done. Her placenta is small and the cord very thin. This baby really will do better on the outside, though we’d all like to buy another week or two. I knew the baby was small for dates. Izzy was going to have an ultrasound early next week, but from what I’ve just seen Izzy’s baby really will do better by being born.’

      ‘She’s been eating well, taking care of herself.’

      ‘She suffered trauma both physically and emotionally early on in the pregnancy,’ Gus said. ‘Let’s just get her through tonight, but guilt isn’t going to help anyone.’

      Diego knew that. He’d had the same conversation with more parents than he could remember—the endless search for answers, for reasons, when sometimes Mother Nature worked to her own agenda.

      ‘Does she want to see me?’

      Gus nodded. ‘She doesn’t want to call her family just yet.’

      When he saw her, Diego remembered the day he had first met her when she had come to the neonatal ward. Wary, guarded, she sat on the bed, looking almost angry, but he knew she was just scared.

      ‘It’s going to be okay,’ Diego said, and took her hand, but she pulled it away.

      ‘You don’t know that.’

      She sat there and she had all her make-up on, her hair immaculate, except she was in a hospital gown with a drip and a monitor strapped to her stomach, and Diego wondered if she did actually want him there at all.

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