No, it wasn’t his proudest morning, because once the handover sheet was complete, Diego headed for his office and closed the door. Feeling as if he was prying but wanting to know all the same, it didn’t take long to find out everything Rita had told him and more. Oh, he would never abuse his position and look up personal information, but it was there for everyone, splashed all over the internet, and as he read it he felt his stomach churn in unease for all she had been through.
Pregnant, trying to leave an abusive marriage, real estate agent Henry Bailey had beaten his wife in the darkened hospital car park. Rita was right, the whole, shocking incident had been captured on CCTV and images of footage and the details were spelt out in the press.
He felt sick.
Reading it, he felt physically sick and also strangely proud.
Her first day back.
Mierda! He cursed himself as he remembered his throw-away comment about the car park. He replayed the conversation they had had over and over and wished he could start with her again.
His door knocked and he quickly clicked away from the page he was viewing, before calling whoever it was to come in, but he felt a rare blush on his cheeks as the woman herself stood before him. Diego actually felt as if he’d been caught snooping as Izzy let herself in, a wide smile on her face, and he wondered how on earth she managed it.
She had leggings on again and a bright red dress with bright red lipstick and, Diego
noticed, bright red cheeks as he just continued to stare up at her.
‘You need me to sign off on the delivery?’ It was Izzy who broke the silence; Diego was momentarily lost for words. ‘Your ward clerk just rang...’
‘We would have sent them down to you.’
‘Oh!’ Izzy blushed a shade darker as she lied just a little. ‘I thought it sounded urgent.’
‘I should have some forms...’ He was unusually flustered as he rummaged through his desk. ‘Or I’ll ring Maternity. Here...’ Diego found them and was pathetically grateful when the door knocked and one of his team stood there. with a screaming baby with a familiar request.
‘Would you mind?’
‘Not at all.’ He washed his hands, thoroughly, then took the screaming baby and plonked it face down on his forearm, its little head at his elbow, and he rocked it easily as he spoke.
‘Genevieve!’ he introduced. ‘Goes home this week, please God! I do not envy her parents.’
Well, Genevieve looked as if she’d happily stay with Diego for ever! The tears had stopped and she was already almost asleep as he bounced away.
‘If you want to get started on the forms I’ll just go and get the details you’ll need.’ He paused at the door. ‘I was just about to get a drink...’
‘Not for me, thanks,’ Izzy said, and then changed her mind. ‘Actually, water would be great.’
‘Would you mind...?’ It was his turn to say it and he gestured to the baby. Izzy went to put out her hands and then laughed.
‘Joking!’ she said, then went over to his sink and thoroughly washed hers. ‘Am I clean enough for you?’
Oh, God, there was an answer there!
And they just both stood there, looking a bit stunned.
Izzy flaming red, Diego biting down on his tongue rather than tell her he’d prefer her dirty.
And thank God for Miss Genevieve or he might just have kissed her face off!
Diego got them both water.
Well, he couldn’t do much with two polystyrene cups and tap water but he did go to the ice dispenser and then had a little chat with himself in his head as he walked back to his office.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He hardly knew her, she was pregnant, and she obviously had major issues.
Why was he acting like a twelve-year-old walking past the underwear department in a department store? Nervous, jumpy, embarrassed, hell, he couldn’t actually fancy her, and even if he did, normally that didn’t pose a problem—he fancied loads of women.
This, though, felt different.
Maybe he felt sorry for her? Diego wondered as he balanced a file under his arm and two cups in one big hand and opened his office door.
But, no, he’d been thinking about her long before Rita had told him what had happened.
Then she looked up from the form she was filling in and smiled, and Diego was tempted to turn round and walk out.
He more than fancied her.
Not liked, not felt sorry for, no. As he washed his hands and took Genevieve from her and sat down behind his desk it wasn’t sympathy that was causing this rather awkward reaction.
Diego was used to women.
Beautiful women.
Ordinary women.
Postnatal women.
Pregnant women were regular visitors to his unit—often he walked a mum-to-be around his unit, telling her what to expect once her baby was born.
He was more than used to women, yet not one, not one single one, had ever had this effect on him.
‘How is Toby doing?’ Izzy looked up from the forms and Diego made a wobbly gesture with one hand.
‘Can I have a peek?’ Izzy signed off her name and then reached for her water. ‘I’m done.’
‘Sure,’ Diego said. ‘I’ll put this one down and take you over—we’ve moved him.’
Genevieve was sleeping now, and Izzy walked with him to the nursery. It was a far more relaxed atmosphere there.
There were about eight babies, all in clear cribs and dressed in their own clothes, the parents more relaxed and, Izzy noticed, everyone had a smile when Diego walked in and put Genevieve back in her cot.
He was certainly popular, Izzy thought as they head back out to the busy main floor of NICU.
‘You need to—’
‘Wash my hands,’ Izzy interrupted, ‘I know.’
‘Actually...’ Diego gave a small wince. ‘Your perfume is very strong. Perhaps you could...’
‘I’m not wearing perfume,’ Izzy said as she soaped up her hands, ‘and you’re hardly one to talk, I can smell your cologne from here!’
‘I don’t wear cologne for work.’
‘Oh.’ Izzy glanced over. ‘Then what...?’ She didn’t finish, she just turned back to the taps and
