Her lips sought his and nipped and tasted
When Sabastiano opened his mouth, Julie didnât need any encouragement, and they plundered at will.
Then his mouth stilled against hers. She steadied herself against the vibrations tingling her whole body.
âWell, that was unexpected, but clearly enjoyable. Why did you stop?â
âThere are rules. Morals,â Sebastiano explained, though obviously with some difficulty on his part.
âWhat? Adversaries have morals in this day and age?â
He looked at her askance. âWhen it comes to taking advantage of damsels in distress, even adversaries in this day and age have rules.â
Julie smiled. âPerhaps itâs time to suspend the rules?â
Dear Reader,
Autumn has come to Grantham again, and itâs time for school!
Julie has been chomping at the bit to have her story told. Let me tell you, it wasnât easy keeping the opinionated obstetrician at bay. But I think youâll agree that Julie has met her match in suave hospital administrator Sebastiano Fonterra. Was there any doubt that sparks would fly in a class in Italian conversation? They donât call Italian a romantic language for nothing.
On a separate note, youâll see that Julie loves to do needlepointâa hobby I am addicted to, as well. There is nothing like handwork to clear the mind and relax the body. And in the end, you have something to show for your effortsâthough I think my friends and relatives probably have enough pillows by now.
As always, I love to hear from my readers. Email me at [email protected].
Tracy Kelleher
Many thanks to Maria Engst for her expertise
in Spanish and Dan Shapiro for sharing his knowledge about obstetrical care.
This book is dedicated to two people:
Bob Bogart, the man to have in a flood. I owe you much more than a case of beer. And to Anna Ruspa Fedeleâ una professoressa straordinaria. Mille grazie.
Sunday, 10:00 p.m.
âIâM HAVING SOME TROUBLE getting a heartbeat,â Julie Antonelli said. Her tone was steady despite the bad news. She looked at the anxious mother in labor who shook her head and turned to her husband who hovered by her shoulder. Too nervous to muster his meager language skills he grimaced in confusion.
âEspere un minuto.â Julie held up a finger before turning to Maria, one of the delivery nurses. By law, the hospital was required to have a translator, and Maria spoke Spanish fluently.
âTell them what I just said and add that this happens sometimes,â Julie said. Maria translated efficiently and without drama.
The husband nodded stiffly and gripped his wifeâs shoulder. She lay back and closed her eyes. The concern was etched in the lines on their faces, but they both breathed a little easier now.
Julieâs breathing, by contrast, sped up. After six years as a practicing obstetrician, she recognized a potential crisis in the making, and she wasnât about to let that happen. She already carried around enough guilt.
Not that guilt was all bad, she liked to tell herself, or, more accurately, to fool herself. Either way it reminded her just how precious life was. She focused on the nurse at her side.
âMaria, could you explain to Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez that Iâm ordering an ultrasound machine brought in? I want to get a better look at the baby.â So far neither a fetal monitor nor a scalp probe on the babyâs cranium had yielded evidence of a heartbeat.
Maria translated while eyeing the monitors. âTwo hundred over one-fifty,â she whispered in English.
Julie nodded. The patientâs blood pressure was dangerously elevated. Julie leaned toward the patient. âCarlotta, are you a diabetic?â
â¿Carlotta, es usted diabética?â Maria translated.
Carlotta shook her head.
âHave you had regular prenatal checkups, Carlotta?â Julie continued with a kind smile.
â¿Carlotta, Usted ha tenido chequeos prenatales regularmente?â
Carlotta shook her head. A contraction gripped her. She reached to squeeze her husbandâs hand.
Julie leaned over and patted her shoulder, watching the monitors for signs of distress.
Carlotta breathed through her mouth as the pain passed. She wet her lips. âYo trabajo durante el dia cuando la clinica esta abierta,â she said.