Saving His Little Miracle. Jennifer Taylor

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Saving His Little Miracle - Jennifer  Taylor

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chance of a sibling being a match for Megan, it wasn’t guaranteed. From the moment she had decided to approach Vincenzo, she had ruled out the idea of having the baby tested before it was born for the simple reason that she knew she could never abort it. To destroy one life to possibly save another was something she couldn’t do so she was going to have to trust to luck that the baby would be a suitable donor.

      Should she have made that clear to Vincenzo? she wondered suddenly. She would hate him to think that she had misled him and she made a note to mention it when they next spoke.

      Her heart jolted because the next time they spoke, they would have to finalise the arrangements for the sperm donation. There simply wasn’t time to delay if this was to work and yet it seemed so cold, so...so emotionless to conceive a child this way. She sighed. It was emotionless, though. Vincenzo had agreed to her proposal purely to help Megan, not because he wanted to have another child with her. Feelings didn’t enter into it, neither hers nor his...if he had any.

      Lowri closed her eyes, unsure why the idea made her feel so sad. She and Vincenzo were just two people who had met at a time when each had needed comfort. They had fulfilled a mutual need but that was all it had been. Oh, she had found him very attractive; she still did. But she hadn’t been in love with him or him with her. And yet for some reason the thought of him living his life in an emotional wasteland hurt. Vincenzo deserved more than that. He deserved to be loved, deserved to be in love too.

      * * *

      Vincenzo drove to Milan the following day. He went straight to a lab he had used many times during the course of his work and arranged to have the DNA tests done. He was a valued client and they promised to get the results back to him within a couple of days.

      He gave them his phone number then headed to his lawyer’s office next. Although Lowri had rejected his offer of financial support for Megan, he intended to make arrangements anyway. He also needed to know what his position was with regard to the child, and if he had any rights as her father. Maybe he was putting the cart before the horse when he still didn’t have proof that Megan was his daughter but he needed to clarify the situation. Hopefully, he would feel better once he knew exactly what he was dealing with.

      He sighed as he parked the car outside the lawyer’s office. He had spent a sleepless night thinking about what had happened and what he had agreed to do and he still wasn’t sure if he had made the right decision. The thought of how it was going to affect his life wasn’t easy to deal with. Having one child would be difficult enough to cope with and having a second would only double the problems.

      He could only imagine the impact it was going to have on his life and yet what else could he have done? If Megan was his daughter—and he was sure that she was—then he owed it to her to do everything he could to help her. After all, she was his flesh and blood and she would carry on the Lombardi name after he died.

      The thought of having an heir had never occurred to him before and yet Vincenzo felt a sudden rush of pleasure at the idea. Getting out of the car, he made his way into the building with a new spring in his step. The name of Lombardi wouldn’t die out now, as he had always assumed; it would be carried on by his own children. It felt remarkably good to know that too.

      * * *

      Vincenzo decided to go into work the following day. The meeting with his lawyer had taken far longer than he had expected but he now had a much clearer idea of his position. The lawyer had been quite blunt as he had explained that Lowri held all the cards at the present moment. She was the child’s mother and until he had proof that he was Megan’s father, he would have to abide by her wishes. While he could make arrangements to set up a trust fund in Megan’s name, he couldn’t force Lowri to accept financial support from him if she refused to do so.

      For a man like him, who was used to being in sole charge of his affairs, it was unsettling to realise how tenuous his position actually was. Hopefully, a visit to the hospital would help to put some much-needed balance back into his life.

      The familiar smell of antiseptic greeted him as he stepped out of the lift and he inhaled deeply. He had missed this. Missed the smell. Missed the buzz. Missed the adrenaline rush that came from saving lives under the most difficult of circumstances. Neurosurgery was one of the most demanding specialities. It needed strong nerves and steady hands and he possessed both—or he had done until the skiing accident that had partially severed one of the major nerves in his arm.

      Vincenzo flexed his fingers as he opened the scrub-room door. Although he was ninety-nine per cent certain that he had regained full use of his hand, there was still that tiny doubt, that one per cent of uncertainty. Until he was completely confident about his prowess, he wouldn’t operate. He would use the time instead to sort out this business with Lowri and the baby.

      Heat flowed through him at the thought of how he would like to sort it out and he paused, wanting to be in control when he saw his team. There was no point thinking that he would prefer it if they conceived this child the old-fashioned way; Lowri would never agree. However, he knew that it was one of the reasons why he hadn’t been able to sleep. Every time he had closed his eyes his mind had conjured up pictures of them together. Although he had tried not to think about that night they had slept together, the memories had obviously lodged in his brain and all it had needed was an excuse to unleash them.

      A shudder passed through him as he suddenly found himself recalling how smooth and silky her skin had felt when he had run his hands over it and how firm her breasts had been as he had caressed them...

      A burst of laughter issuing from behind the partly opened door brought him back to the present and he frowned. He couldn’t remember his team laughing like that; he would definitely have discouraged them if they had. He was about to enter the room and remonstrate with them when he heard someone speaking and recognised the voice as belonging to his second in command, Jack Wallace.

      ‘Now, now, settle down, guys. You know our beloved leader wouldn’t appreciate it if he thought we were having fun.’ Jack’s voice changed, his American drawl replaced by the parody of an Italian accent. ‘The work we do here is far too serious to joke about.’

      More laughter greeted this. Vincenzo felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him when he realised that they were laughing at him rather than at Jack’s abysmal attempt to mimic him. He let the door swing shut, stunned that he should take any notice. What did it matter if he was a figure of fun? Why should he care if people thought he was too strict? He was a damned fine surgeon and he achieved the kind of results that most surgeons could only dream about. He didn’t need their approbation or their love!

      Swinging round, he made for the lift. Five minutes later he was in his car and heading back to his apartment. He parked in the underground garage then took the lift to the penthouse and let himself in. It took a mere ten minutes to pack himself a bag and that was it.

      Glancing around the elegant, designer-styled rooms, he gave a dismissive shrug. There was nothing here he needed, nothing that he would miss either. They were merely things, purchased to create the right impression. He had no emotional attachment to anything in the apartment. No emotional attachment to anything in his life, in fact, and all of a sudden he hated it. Hated the apartment, hated the way he lived, although he had no idea what he planned to do about it.

      Vincenzo picked up his case and left. He was going to take the first step towards changing his life and simply see where it led him.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      ‘SO THAT’S JUST about it. How’s Megan? I bet she’s thrilled to be home from hospital, isn’t she?’

      ‘Yes,

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