Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride. Sarah Morgan
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‘You are unavailable! You’re happily married.’
‘I know, but don’t you just look at the man and think “sex”?’
‘I look at him and think “trouble”.’ Liv pinned the keys into her pocket, trying to erase a disturbing image of shimmering dark eyes and bold male arrogance.
‘I wouldn’t mind getting into trouble with him. He certainly isn’t afraid to speak his mind.’
‘He has high standards,’ Liv said firmly, ‘and that’s a good thing. He just won’t accept anything less than the best and I like that. If I were to crash my car, he’s the one I’d want treating me.’
‘Now that is a terrifying thought.’ Anna’s expression was comical. ‘Imagine, all your colleagues would see your underwear. Just for the record, if I’m ever brought in here and you have to cut my clothes from my body, I want you to make sure I’m wearing silk designer knickers and not chain-store cotton.’
‘I think if you’d reached the point of needing to have your clothes cut off, the label on your knickers is going to be the least of your problems. Do you want me to check before or after I save your life?’
‘You can joke, but I just know that Stefano Lucarelli dates women who wear matching silk underwear.’
‘That doesn’t mean he expects the same high standards from his patients,’ Liv said dryly. ‘Now, are you going to talk to Rachel or am I? His comment is justified, by the way. She’s dreamy and needs to sharpen up.’
‘Poor Rachel. He obviously chewed her up and spat her out. I’d better go and give her some sympathy.’
‘She doesn’t need sympathy, she needs a wake-up call,’ Liv said briskly. ‘She developed a crush on our Italian consultant from the moment he drove his Ferrari into the car park. If she stopped staring at him and concentrated on her work, she wouldn’t drop things.’
‘He is a little scary.’
‘He is clever and efficient.’
‘I’m glad you think so. Given that you respect him so much and you’re indifferent to his charms, you can work with him in Resus so that solves one problem. Now, what was our other problem? Oh yes, what to do with your tickets to the Snowflake Ball.’
‘I’m selling them. I have no man, no dress, no babysitter and no inclination to go to the ball. Nor do I have stepsisters, ugly or otherwise.’
‘Invite Stefano Lucarelli.’
‘Oh please! If I want public humiliation, I’ll just strip naked. I have no intention of embarrassing both of us by issuing an invitation he will certainly reject.’
‘He might not. He was looking at you.’
‘He was probably wondering why someone with hips like mine hasn’t gone on a diet.’
‘You don’t need to diet!’ Anna looked at her thoughtfully. ‘He noticed you, Liv.’
‘Anna, he walked in while we were hugging and talking about sex,’ Liv reminded her wearily. ‘Of course he noticed me. It probably classes as one of the most embarrassing moments of my career.’
Anna ignored her. ‘He’s single at the moment, can you believe that? I don’t get it. I mean, he’s super-wealthy. His family owns some enormous construction business in Italy. There’s no justice in the world, is there? Rich and good-looking is very unfair.’
‘Anna, you’re a married woman with two children.’
Anna ignored that, too. ‘Apparently he was dating some glossy Italian actress but rumour has it that he ditched her because she was insisting on moving in with him. He’s only been in the country for a month. He might be glad of a night out before Christmas.’
‘He certainly strikes me as a man who needs help finding women.’ Her tone sarcastic, Liv lifted a hand. ‘Enough. End of subject. Do you and Dave want the tickets, or do I sell them?’
Rachel appeared in the doorway, her face pale. ‘Ambulance Control just called and they’re bringing in a man who was kicked on the rugby field. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not work in Resus again today.’ Her voice was high-pitched and decidedly wobbly. ‘Dr Lucarelli was a bit…sharp.’
Anna straightened. ‘Injuries?’
Rachel looked at her blankly. ‘None. Except my pride, I suppose. I mean he was really—’
‘The patient,’ Anna interrupted her wearily. ‘What are the patient’s injuries, Rachel? And it’s Mr Lucarelli, not “Dr”. He’s a trained surgeon. Surgeons are “Mr”, remember?’
‘Oh. Right.’ Rachel cleared her throat. ‘That patient was kicked.’
‘Yes, but where?’
‘He has breathing problems,’ Rachel said vaguely and Liv gritted her teeth and handed Anna the keys to the drug cupboard.
‘I’ll take this one. Call the trauma team and ask Mr Lucarelli to come to Resus.’
‘I’ll send Sue to help you,’ Anna muttered. ‘Rachel, you and I need to have a chat.’
Leaving Anna to deal with the hapless Rachel, Liv pushed open the doors that led to the high-tech resuscitation room.
Always prepared for an emergency, the room was kept stocked and ready for patients and Liv was pulling on an apron and a pair of gloves when Stefano Lucarelli strode into the room.
He looked straight at her and for one brief, disturbing moment, neither of them spoke.
For sheer raw impact, she’d never met a man like him. Neither had she ever experienced the blaze of sexual awareness that suddenly flooded her body.
Mortified, she turned away quickly, her heart pounding and her face scarlet, just furious with herself for being so predictable. The man must be so tired of women staring at him. It was just that stupid conversation with Anna, she told herself crossly, pulling open a cupboard and removing the sterile pack she thought they might need.
Talking about sex had made her think about sex, and thinking about sex had made her—
Oh for crying out loud!
‘Apparently the paramedics reported that the patient has some respiratory problems,’ she said crisply, keeping her head in the cupboard for slightly longer than was necessary to give the colour in her cheeks time to fade, ‘so I thought it might be wise to have a thoracotomy pack ready.’
‘Good.’ But there was a sharp edge to his voice that made her wonder whether she was about to become another casualty of his legendary high standards.
The doors to Resus flew open and the patient arrived along with the rest of the trauma team.
Swiftly