The Man Who Risked It All

Laying her fingers across her mouth, she started to shake again. Franco had been lying there injured for three days and she’d known nothing about it. She—

‘His agitation erupted almost as soon as he woke up,’ the doctor continued. ‘He refused to let us speak of Signor Clemente once his father had broken the news of his friend’s death. He had his room cleared of the flowers and cards he had received from family and friends. He banned those same people from entering this hospital to visit him.’

For the first time since she’d arrived there Lexi glanced around the quiet anteroom and took in the distinct lack of friends and family she should have expected to see crowded in there.

‘Wh—Where is Franco’s father?’ she whispered.

‘Signor Salvatore Tolle is on your husband’s banned list, Signora,’ the doctor informed her.

Eyes rounding like saucers, Lexi gasped. ‘Are you kidding me?’

Dr Cavelli shook his head. ‘Your husband is very angry with the world right now. It is not unusual for such tragic circumstances to make people angry,’ he assured her. ‘However, when he demanded to see you and his father explained that you had not been contacted he—reacted badly. He attempted to get out of his bed, insisting he was going to London to see you. The depth of his agitation concerned us enough to suggest to his father that he contact you and bring you here a

s quickly as he could. Once your husband knew you were on your way here he calmed down a little.’

But when she’d tried to leave again he’d pulled the same mad stunt!

‘What we believe has happened is, to help him to block out his natural grief and guilt with regard to Signor Clemente’s death, he has transferred his full focus to you and the—forgive me—the state of your marriage.’

The divorce papers. Lexi closed her eyes tightly as her heart sank and the clamouring sickness she felt began to churn up her stomach. Franco had crashed his boat because he’d been thinking of those papers instead of concentrating on—

No. Pushing trembling, tense fingers through her hair, Lexi gave a fierce shake of her head, refusing to believe that the arrival of divorce papers had had the power to tip Franco over the edge.

‘Our marriage has been over for three and a half years,’ she mumbled, more to herself than to anyone else. She just couldn’t bring herself to consider that he would react so badly to something he must have been expecting—or even been thinking of putting into motion himself!

What Franco had seemingly done was to transfer his focus onto the divorce papers after the accident, Lexi decided. Though she couldn’t work out why he should want to use that particular thing to focus on.

‘I’ll go and talk to him,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘He can’t possibly have meant to ban his own father from his bedside. I’ll go and find out why he’s behaving like this and—’

‘He is sleeping, signora,’ the doctor reminded her as she turned towards Franco’s door. ‘Perhaps it would be wiser for you to sleep on what we have discussed before you talk to him again.’

It had not been a suggestion but a carefully worded command, and it spun Lexi about. Her eyes flashed out vivid blue warnings—she knew because she could feel them doing it. ‘He isn’t at death’s door,’ she stated bluntly. ‘Neither is he a child to be cosseted and protected from the truth. And the truth is it’s just not fair of him to take his feelings out on his father.’

‘Perhaps by tomorrow you will have calmed down a little and thought better of … challenging him right now.’

‘What kind of doctor are you?’ she demanded, suddenly suspicious.

‘The kind that deals with a patient’s mental health,’ he provided, with a small, tellingly dry smile. ‘Your husband’s injuries are many, signora. In no way would I like to think I had given you the impression that we undervalue his physical trauma, because we do not. His heart stopped beating twice at the scene of the accident. The trauma team had to fight to bring him back. His concussion was and still is very concerning—he has clouded vision and continued dizziness …’

Lexi blinked as she recalled the way Franco’s hand had kept on missing its target when it tried to pull out the shunt.

‘The wound in his thigh was deep and required several hours of careful surgery to reconnect vital nerves and muscles.’ As Lexi went pale, Dr Cavelli spread out his hands in an expression of apology for being so graphic. ‘Extensive internal bleeding required us to insert a drain in his chest cavity—I should imagine you saw the resulting spread of bruising,’ he gauged. ‘The loss of blood was significant enough to require several urgent transfusions, and we feared for a time—unnecessarily, we now know—that he had damaged his spinal cord as well. I tell you all of this because I believe facing him with questions about the way he is dealing with his current situation might goad him into doing something more drastic than attempting to get out of bed—like walking out of here altogether.’

‘Does he have the strength to do that?’ Lexi questioned dubiously.

‘He has the determination and will power to give him the strength,’ the doctor assessed, and, thinking about it, Lexi conceded that he was probably right. ‘Your husband has made you the linchpin which is holding him together right now. Therefore I must beg you most seriously to consider the responsibility this places on you to help him through this very difficult time …’

‘You lied to me about the extent of your injuries,’ Lexi said the moment Franco opened his eyes.

It was very late, and she’d ignored the doctor’s advice and come back here to sit with Franco while he slept.

‘And you can’t banish your father from your bedside unless you want to break his heart,’ she tagged on. ‘Why would Salvatore think of calling me and bringing me over here? It isn’t as if you and I are friends, is it?’

The moment she saw the grey cast settle over his face Lexi recognised her mistake. Mentioning friends had reminded him of Marco, and, as the doctor had described, Franco had blocked her words out.

She heaved out a tense little breath. ‘OK.’ She tried a different tack. ‘You can’t keep trying to get out of this bed either. Not until they say that you can.’

‘Are you staying?’