The Italian's Passionate Proposal. Sarah Morgan
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу The Italian's Passionate Proposal - Sarah Morgan страница 4
‘And have you?’
‘Well, I haven’t robbed a bank, if that’s what you mean.’ She chuckled and hoisted the bag towards her, twisting the neck so that the contents were safe. ‘Actually, I’m on my way to see a patient. So, if you’re sure your face is all right, I suppose this is where we say goodbye.’
No way!
‘I’ll come with you,’ he said immediately. ‘There’s no way I should be allowed to walk these streets on my own. It’s not safe.’
She looked up at him, her cheeks dimpling. ‘You need my protection?’
‘Absolutely.’ His voice was husky and he saw her breath catch in her throat.
‘You’re at least six foot three and you’ve got more muscles than I’ve ever seen on one body,’ she pointed out, appreciation in her eyes as they wandered over his broad shoulders. ‘You tackled those guys without a second thought and you certainly don’t look like a man who’s afraid of much.’
Up until five minutes ago he would have agreed with her, but since the moment she’d thrown him to the floor everything had changed.
‘I’m afraid of never seeing you again.’
The only sound was the soft whisper of snow as it floated past her stunned face and settled on the black wool jacket she was wearing.
When she finally spoke her voice was shaky. ‘I suppose I’m meant to say that you’re being ridiculous.’
He stepped closer to her, aware of just how delicate she was. Suddenly he felt fiercely protective. ‘Say it, then.’
She stared up at him and he could see that she’d stopped breathing. ‘I—I can’t.’ A look of confusion crossed her face. ‘Oh, help! What are you doing to me?’
Their eyes held, the heat and tension between them almost melting the snow.
Without shifting his gaze, Carlo held out a hand, and after endless seconds she stepped towards him and took it.
He pulled her against him and stroked her snowy dark hair away from her face, thinking how beautiful she was.
She stared up at him and he could see her breathing quicken. ‘I—This is crazy. I really ought to be going…’
‘Me, too. Do you think we should kiss each other goodbye?’ He was only a breath away from touching her mouth with his when she dipped her head and gave him a gentle push.
‘What is it that you do to me? I don’t behave like this! I don’t even know you.’
Carlo stared down at her thoughtfully, a warm feeling spreading through his body.
He never met people who didn’t know him.
In Italy, everyone knew him. His picture appeared regularly in the newspapers and gossip columns and he hated it. He hated being public property.
But to this girl he was a stranger and it was a totally novel experience.
‘Everyone is a stranger the first time you meet them,’ he pointed out gently, and she gave him a half-smile that betrayed her confusion.
‘That’s true, I suppose, but I don’t usually kiss men I’ve only known for five minutes.’
‘So I’ll hang around until you’ve known me for longer,’ Carlo said, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.
‘Are you always this persistent?’
No. He never usually needed to be. He was one of the richest men in Italy and he was usually the one tactfully keeping women at a distance.
‘Look, why don’t we go somewhere warm and grab a coffee or something?’
‘I can’t. At least, not right now.’ She glanced at her watch and pulled a face. ‘There’s somewhere I have to be and I don’t want to be too late. It’s not the best of places in the middle of the day, but at night it’s horrid. I meant to go earlier but I had to stay late at the hospital. I need to go and do my visit and you ought to go home and get some ice on your cheek,’ she said, touching it with gentle fingers, guilt in her eyes. ‘I’m really, really sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘Forget it.’ Carlo gave a lopsided smile, wondering where all his smooth chat-up lines had gone when he needed them. He could think of a dozen things to say to her in Italian but none at all in English. ‘Just remind me never to get on the wrong side of you.’
She lifted an arm and pretended to flex her biceps. ‘Scary, that’s me.’
Carlo looked deep into those green eyes and decided that she definitely was scary, but not for any of the reasons she imagined.
The scariest thing of all was that even though he’d only known her for five minutes, there was no way he was letting this woman out of his sight. Part of him knew that he should walk away from her. He was involved in something nasty and he certainly didn’t want her dragged into it. But he wasn’t prepared to let her go even for a moment. He was going to see where this led and deal with the consequences later.
‘All right, if you won’t come with me then I’ll have to come with you on your call, and then we can both put ice on my face together.’
As a pick-up line it was novel, but he was past caring.
He was a desperate man.
If she turned and walked away, he’d have to consider kidnapping her.
‘You can’t come with me on my call.’ She clutched the bin bag more tightly. ‘It’s a professional visit. I can’t just take a man I picked up on the street.’
‘I picked you up,’ he pointed out, and she rolled her eyes.
‘Details. Details.’
He gave a lopsided smile. ‘Would it help if I confessed that I’m an obstetrician?’
Her eyes widened in disbelief and she started to laugh.
He frowned at her. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘I’m just trying to imagine any of the obstetricians I know fighting like you did.’ She shook her head slightly, still laughing. ‘I’m failing dismally. They’re all very puny and academic. They’d have trouble wrestling with a microscope.’
He lifted an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. ‘You don’t think I’m academic?’
‘You mean you’ve got all that muscle and a brain?’ She batted her eyelids and he grinned appreciatively.
‘I certainly have.’ He adored her sense of humour. ‘So, now do you believe I’m an obstetrician?’
‘No.’ Her cheeks were rosy from the cold. ‘I’ve worked with loads of obstetricians and