Free The Italian's New-Year Marriage Wish by Sarah Morgan Page B

You can develop muscle strain and eye strain from too much gaming. Heart disease from lack of exercise. At least you were having fun outdoors.’
    â€˜But Eddie wouldn’t have been here if it hadn’t been for me. I chose the smugglers game. He loves dressing up as a pirate.’
    â€˜So—you’re a fun brother to have and pirates sounds like a good game,’ Marco said easily. ‘You’ll have to tell me more about it someday soon.’ He glanced at Amy and gave a faintsmile of approval as he saw her first-aid measures. ‘Very inventive.’
    â€˜You learn to be inventive in Africa.’ She pressed hard on the wound. ‘They’re not exactly flush with equipment over there.’
    Something flickered in his eyes and then he turned his attention back to his little patient.
    â€˜Do we have to go to hospital?’ Alfie’s voice wobbled and he sounded very young. ‘Our mum is going to go mad.’
    â€˜She’ll just be relieved you’re safe. Now, sit down here for a moment.’ Amy helped him sit down on a flat piece of rock. ‘Don’t move. It’s very slippery and I don’t want you to fall again and I want to help Dr Avanti with your brother.’
    Shivering without the protection of her scarf, she moved across to Marco and knelt down beside him. ‘You must be frozen. You gave all your layers to Eddie.’
    â€˜I have more body fat than he does.’
    Amy’s eyes slid to his powerful, male frame. Not an inch of fat was visible. Just lean muscle under a thin T-shirt that clung to the impressive width of his shoulders. But she knew there was no point in pointing out that he was getting cold. Marco would do everything within his power to save a child. She’d always known that about him.
    A hiss and a crash reminded her that the sea in winter was hungry and unforgiving and frighteningly close. ‘That was a big wave, Marco.’
    â€˜Yes.’ Marco’s tone was matter-of-fact. ‘If the helicopter doesn’t arrive in the next few minutes, we might have to move him. I don’t want to but it’s the lesser of two evils.’
    Amy glanced up at the sky, willing it to arrive.
    Eddie gave a little whimper and Marco murmured something reassuring and tucked the layers more tightly around the child. ‘He’s in and out of consciousness. I should have asked Sam to bring blankets down from the pub.’
    â€˜The helicopter will be here before Sam gets back,’ Amysaid optimistically. ‘I can give him one of my layers.’ She started to take off her coat but he reached out and caught her arm.
    â€˜No.’ This time his voice was harsh. ‘Keep your coat on. You need it.’
    â€˜But—’
    â€˜Don’t argue with me, Amy. You don’t exactly have an excess of body fat to keep you warm. Didn’t they feed you in Africa?’
    She swallowed but was spared the trouble of thinking up an answer by the noise of the approaching helicopter.
    â€˜Good.’ Marco watched with visible relief as the helicopter appeared in the sky like a giant insect. In a matter of minutes it was overhead and Amy could see the winchman in the doorway of the helicopter.
    With precise, accurate flying and slick teamwork, the winchman was lowered onto the rocks next to them.
    He unclipped the harness and moved across to them. ‘How many casualties, Marco?’
    Amy was wondering how they knew each other and then remembered that the RAF winchmen were trained paramedics who often practised their skills along side local doctors.
    â€˜Two. One of them serious. According to his brother, he lost consciousness when he fell. GCS was 13 when we arrived on the scene…’ Marco gave a swift, comprehensive summary of the situation and together they prepared Eddie for his transfer to hospital. Finally, strapped to a backboard, the child was winched into the helicopter.
    Shivering like a wet