A Taste Of Italy. Fiona McArthur

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maternal positioning worked very well. My memories of shoulder dystocia were always fraught with a dread that was missing tonight.’ He smiled.

      ‘You were both remarkably calm.’

      ‘There’s some anxiety when you see a very large baby like Trina’s. But we do drills for that scenario at least once a week so if there’s a delay we can move straight into the positions. Because we knew Trina’s baby was larger, Misty would have spoken to her about what to do if needed and good positions to try. But it can happen with small babies too.’

      He dropped his arm around her shoulders, and it was companionable, not sexual. Not something she would have believed possible earlier. ‘You must be very proud of your team here.’

      ‘We are.’ His arm felt warm and heavy but not a heaviness she wanted to shrug off. A heaviness of wanting to snuggle in and encourage more snuggling. She shifted away from that concept quick-smart and he picked up the tiny movement and slid his arm away. She pretended she didn’t miss it. ‘And the women and their families love the centre and the choice it gives them. We’ve quite a clientele from the larger centres coming here to birth and then going home from here.’

      They were crossing the car park to Tammy’s car and Tammy suddenly realised how at ease she felt with this big, quiet Italian. How she’d just expected that if Trina’s baby had been compromised by a long delay before the rest of her body was able to be birthed, that Leon would be there to help. Despite his denial that he’d had much to do with new babies, she had unshakable conviction that his skills would be magnificent.

      You can’t tell that, a voice inside her insisted. But just like she knew that Misty could see things without proof or concrete evidence, she knew that Leon Bonmarito would be a great asset in Lyrebird Lake. Not that there was much chance of him hanging round.

      She paused beside her car to speak and he took the opportunity to open her car door for her. She frowned. No one had done that for her for years and she wasn’t sure she liked the warm and pampered feeling it left her with. As if abdicating her independence. But that uneasiness didn’t stop her invitation. ‘Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow night. If you find yourself at a loose end after Paulo’s in bed.’

      He inclined his head. ‘Three in a row? What will people say?’ At her arrested expression he laughed softly and looked around at the sleeping town. ‘Your townspeople bed early, I doubt anyone is awake to notice.’

      What would they notice? There was nothing to see. She’d done nothing wrong. Nobody could construe otherwise but it was as well he reminded her. She’d vowed to remain squeaky clean and the soul of discretion once she’d had Jack. Lyrebird Lake had given her tarnished youth a brand-new, shiny start, and there’d never been any hint of wayward behaviour to jeopardise that from Dr Ben’s daughter.

      She looked up at him, confident she’d done nothing wrong, nothing remotely possible to compromise her good name, and her chin lifted as she peered up at him in the dimness. Unexpectedly she perceived the unmistakable glint in those bedroom eyes of his. The breath caught in her throat and she moistened her lips to make the words, at the very least, sound relaxed. ‘Notice what?’

      ‘Perhaps this?’ His hands came up and cupped both cheeks to prevent her escape, not with force but with warmth and gentleness and definite intent. His head bent and his chiselled lips met hers with an unmistakable purpose that spun her away from streetlights and neighbours and petty concerns of her good name, until she kissed him back because that was more natural than breathing, more satisfying than a heartfelt sigh, and kindled the smoulder of heat in her belly he’d started with a dance two days before.

      When Leon stepped back she swayed until he cupped his hand on the point of her shoulder and held her steady.

      Her hand lifted to her mouth of its own accord—suddenly sensitive lips tingled and sang—and she could feel the sleepiness in her eyes until she blinked it away. She glanced at the silent streets. The only lights shining were the street lamps. And no doubt her eyes.

      Where had all these feelings come from? How could she feel so attuned and connected to this man she barely knew? How could she be tempted in a way she hadn’t been since Jack was conceived? The depth of her response scared the pants off her. And she knew what had happened last time she’d felt like that.

      He’s right, she thought with convoluted logic, this was dangerous, and she’d need to think what she was doing before she ended up as the latest discussion point at the local shop.

      She moved back another step. ‘I could see how people could form the wrong idea,’ she said wryly, and then she swallowed a nervous laugh as she slipped past him into the car. She stared straight ahead as she turned the key. ‘Thanks for the reminder and for being there for all of us tonight.’ And for the kiss, but she wasn’t saying that out loud.

      As an exit line it wasn’t bad. Showed she had presence of mind—something she wouldn’t have bet on one minute ago. ‘If you visit, maybe you could walk to my house tomorrow night, instead of driving. More discreet.’

      As she drove away she decided the invitation had been very foolish. And not a little exciting. She was a sad case if that was how she got her thrills.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      LEON glanced in the oval hallway mirror beside the door and grimaced at the five-o’clock shadow that darkened his jaw. His watch said it was too late to shave again this evening. And no time to walk.

      Paulo had been unsettled tonight and Leon doubted Tamara would appreciate a ten-o’clock visit. If he didn’t know better he would say he was wary of upsetting her.

      Little firebrand. He could feel the tilt of his mouth as he remembered the wedding and her not so veiled threats of violence to his person. And the kiss last night under the street lamp. That had been bad of him. The man in the mirror smiled. Not that he wouldn’t do it again if he had the chance. The result had far exceeded his wildest expectations and the ramifications had disturbed his slumber again for much of the night. It was fortunate he’d never required much sleep.

      She amused him, intrigued him, but most of all she burned his skin with Vesuvian fire whenever he touched her and that should be enough to warn him off. He couldn’t deny the danger but then she was so different than the women he was used to.

      There was no fawning or attempts to use guile. He laughed out loud as his hired car ate up the short distance to her house—she did not know the meaning of the word subtlety.

      Though no doubt she’d prefer he walked and with less fanfare of his arrival, and he needed to remind himself this town was different to Rome. Even Gianni had told him that. Perhaps he would walk tomorrow if he was invited again.

      Another smile twitched at his lips. That would be two days before they left and each day he was becoming more interested in the concept of his new sister-in-law bringing her friend to visit his homeland.

      When he knocked quietly on the door, it wasn’t Tamara who opened the door, but her father, Ben, with his grandson standing behind his back. The degree of Leon’s disappointment was a stern warning of how quickly he was becoming accustomed to Tamara’s company.

      ‘Evening, Leon. Tammy said you might call. She’s over in the birthing unit with Misty.’

      Another crisis? ‘Do they need a hand?’

      Ben

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