Fiona McArthur - Midwife, Mother...Italian's Wife

Midwife, Mother…

Italian’s Wife

Fiona McArthur

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Cover

Title Page Midwife, Mother… Italian’s Wife Fiona McArthur www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author About the Author A mother to five sons, FIONA MCARTHUR is an Australian midwife who loves to write. Medical™ Romance gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! Now that her boys are older, Fiona and her husband Ian are off to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures. Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthur.com

Dedication Dedication: For Rosie and Carol, my fabulous friends, who put up with those phone calls when I’m stuck.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Copyright

Dear Reader,

Tammy was never going to be anyone’s wife. Wife meant ‘love for ever’, and she didn’t believe in for ever, and then there was that ‘obey’ word. She’d always had issues with authority. Plus she had her son—the only man she needed in her life.

Then she met Leonardo Bonmarito—tall, gorgeous, a brooding Italian doctor who was never going to settle in Lyrebird Lake, and who would never allow her the freedom she thrived on. And his son placed her own in danger. So what was she doing with her hands inside his shirt?

It makes you wonder if there’s anything the magical Lyrebird Lake can do for these two strong and proud people who don’t know how to let go of the past.

I adored this book. There’s a bit of intrigue, a bit of action, the joy of birth, and of course a love story. I loved Tammy, I loved Leon, and I loved the boys—and they all made me smile down to my toes when they interacted with each other.

While this book stands alone, I hope you enjoy your return to the setting of Lyrebird Lake, which has become a very special place for me, and that Tammy and Leon’s story warms you too.

I wish you happy reading.

Fiona

A mother to five sons, FIONA MCARTHURis an Australian midwife who loves to write. Medical™ Romance gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! Now that her boys are older, Fiona and her husband Ian are off to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures. Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthur.com

Dedication:

For Rosie and Carol, my fabulous friends,

who put up with those phone calls when I’m stuck.

AS A reluctant best man, Leonardo Durante Bonmarito caught the unashamed adoration on the groom’s face as he circled the room with his new bride, and knew his own earlier arrival in Australia would have made no difference.

Leon’s intention of stopping this wedding had faltered at the first sight of Gianni at the airport because nothing would have prevented his brother from marrying this woman.

Such happiness made Leon’s chest hurt and he’d never liked wedding feasts. It was even harder when he felt insulated from the joy and gaiety around him by the fact he still hadn’t had a chance to talk to Gianni properly since arriving.

‘Not a big fan of weddings?’ The words were mild enough but the tone held a hint of quiet rebuke. Tammy Moore, chief bridesmaid and for tonight his partner, spoke at his shoulder and Leon returned to the present with a jolt. She went on, ‘We’re supposed to join them on the floor now.’

‘Sí. Of course. My apologies.’ Automatically he glanced around and down and unexpectedly his vision was filled with the delightful valley between her breasts.

He swept his eyes upwards and her dark brows tilted at the flicker of a smile he couldn’t help.

It was a problem but what was a man to do with a bodice just under eye level? It would be strange dancing with a woman willow-slim in body and almost as tall as himself. She felt twice the height of his late wife.

He wondered if others might think they looked good together. Little did observers know their rapport had been anything but cordial, because he feared he hadn’t endeared himself to her.

Leon repressed a sigh. He’d barely talked, in fact, it seemed he’d forgotten how to be at ease with a young woman, but in his defence, his mind had been torn between the recent danger to Paulo and when he could discuss it with his brother.

Tammy tapped her foot with the music, surely not with impatience, as she waited for them to join the bride and groom on the floor and he’d best concentrate. He hoped it would not be too much of a disaster because his heart wasn’t in it. ‘You are very good to remind me,’ he said by way of apology, but she didn’t comment, just held out one slender hand for him to take so the guests could join in after the official party was on the floor.

The music wheezed around them with great gusto if not great skill, like a jolly asthmatic between inhaler puffs, and Leon took her fingers in his and held them. Her hand lay small and slim, and somehow vulnerable, in his clasp, and suddenly he wasn’t thinking of much except the way she unexpectedly fitted perfectly into his arms, her small breasts soft against his chest, and her hair smooth against his face.

In fact, her hip swung against his in seamless timing as if they’d danced together to a breathless piano accordion since birth.

Such precision and magical cadence took him from this place—and his swirling, painful thoughts—to a strange mist of curative tranquillity he’d craved since not just yesterday but from the haze of time in his youth.

Where was the awkwardness that’d always seemed to dog him and his late wife whenever they’d danced? The concept deepened the guilt in his heart and also the frown across his brows.

‘You sway like a reed in my arms.’ He tilted his head in reluctant approval. ‘You must dance often.’

He thought he heard, ‘Nearly as often as you frown, you great thundercloud.’ The unexpected words were quiet, spoken to his feet, and he must have heard wrong because she followed that with, ‘Yes, we love dancing here.’

He decided he was mistaken, but the humility in her expression had a certain facade of mock innocence, and made his suspicions deepen with amused insight. Then he caught his son’s eye as they swept past, and Leon raised his eyebrows at the flower girl standing beside him.

Paulo glanced at the young girl and then back at his father, nodded and took her hand to lead her into the dance. Tammy followed his gaze and smiled stiffly, something, he realised guiltily, she’d been doing for a couple of hours now.

She slanted a glance at him. ‘Does your son dance as well as his father?’