Page 29 of Quadruplets For The Broody Billionaire

Later, at the estate, Amy sat in her room in the guest cottage and pored over the list of potential side effects.

Dr. Esposito had been right. Nothing here was bad at all, not when compared to the potential of a drastically shortened life span. If she had been in Adriano’s shoes, she wouldn’t have hesitated to take this drug. It wasn’t the wonder drug they’d hoped for, because they didn’t know for certain whether it would help him—but it had the potential to do that, and that was better than she’d hoped for this early.

She picked up the phone and pressed the number that would connect her to the main house. As usual, Tony answered promptly—she had no idea how he did that given that he had a job to do and must be busy most of the time.

“How can I help you, Dr. Daniels?”

“Tony, I’ve asked you to call me Amy!”

He laughed. “All right, all right. Amy it is.”

“I need to schedule some time to talk to Adriano. When will he be free to see me?”

“As it happens, he’s in his office right now.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He won’t like it if I just come in without being invited.”

“I’ll let him know you’re on your way. Don’t worry about that. He does want to meet with you. He’s just not used to having people in his space.” Tony hesitated. “That’s what his taking you to the piazza was about, you know. He wanted to make you feel welcome.”

Amy had felt welcome—that day. Since the trip to the piazza, though, Adriano had gone back to ignoring her. Even though she’d gotten his permission to go to the kitchen in the main house, she hadn’t felt bold enough to try it since that first time. She didn’t want to risk another confrontation.

Actually, if she was really honest with herself, she didn’t want to risk seeing him in his bathrobe again. She was aware that she had been a little more confrontational last time than the situation had strictly called for. It was easier to yell at him than it was to admit she was completely turned-on at the prospect that he might have been naked under that robe.

“Thanks, Tony,” she said. “I appreciate it. I’ll come by in about half an hour, okay?” That ought to give him all the time he needed to make himself presentable, if he wasn’t already.

Although maybe she shouldn’t grant him that time. Maybe sheshouldjust drop by and try to catch another glimpse—

She shivered and closed her eyes. She couldn’t get pulled int that kind of thinking. Shehadto keep this professional. It was the most important aspect of all of this. If she started indulging in fantasies about her patient, she wouldn’t be able to do her job properly, and she owed both herself and Adrian better than that.

Amy composed herself. This was silly. She wasn’t going to let herself get distracted thinking about how hot his kiss was, how much she longed to get her hands on him again—she was here to do a job. It was just that simple.

* * *

Half an hour later, to the minute, Amy knocked on Adriano’s office door.

“Come in,” he called.

She opened the door. He was standing with his back to her, but when he heard her enter the room, he turned to face her. She thought he looked solemn, and she wondered what kind of conversation he was expecting.

“I have good news,” she said, hoping to get him in an optimistic mood.

“What might that be?”

“I’ve been to Romano Labs,” she said. “They have a medication they’ve been using for other autoimmune diseases, and there’s a good chance it might be effective at treating Barks-Howard’s.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “I thought there wasn’t a cure.”

“This isn’t a cure. At least, it’s not a known cure. Like I said, it’s been effective at treating similar conditions—that doesn’t necessarily mean curing them—and we’re not sure exactly what the effects will be on someone with your condition. But there’s definitely reason to hope for a positive outcome. I’d like to start you on a course of this drug immediately.”

“You want to give me a drug without knowing if it’ll work? What if it makes me worse?”

“It won’t do that,” Amy said. “I’ve got information on the possible side effects here.” She handed him a printed-out copy of the email she’d gotten from Dr. Esposito. “Maybe you’d like to take a look. There’s absolutely nothing life-threatening—nothing evendangerous—on this list, so as your doctor, I’d definitely recommend it. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

He skimmed the list. “Hair loss.”

“Onlypossiblehair loss. And if it happened, it would be temporary.”

He frowned, running a hand through his thick, dark hair.

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