Mistletoe Brides: Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride / Christmas Angel for the Billionaire / His Vienna Christmas Bride. Liz Fielding

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‘And you may think you’re controlling, but you can’t be as controlling as me. If I don’t get my own way, I’m unbearable. Ask my sister if you don’t believe me. Leave the car. Your garage can sort it out.’

      ‘I don’t think so.’ Her expression was one of utter desolation and he frowned.

      ‘It’s just a car, Liv.’

      For a moment she didn’t answer and then she looked up at him, her smile just a little too bright. ‘Yes, I know. Absolutely. And thanks for the offer of a lift, but I’ll be fine on the train.’ She eased her arm away from his and he felt a flash of exasperation.

      ‘Do you always refuse help?’

      ‘I’m never usually offered help. I’m used to doing things on my own. Taking care of myself. I suppose I feel…awkward. I don’t want to put you out.’

      He wondered why she was so suddenly so lacking in confidence when an hour earlier she’d been saving a life. ‘So let me get this straight. You would rather skid along an icy pavement in freezing conditions and then wait on a draughty platform for a dark smelly underground train than have a lift to your door in my warm car. I confess I’m not flattered by your choice. Am I really that intimidating?’

      Liv’s glance was self-conscious. ‘You can’t possibly want to give me a lift home.’

      Faced with the unusual situation of having to persuade a woman into his car, Stefano applied the full force of his personality. ‘Just get in the car, Liv, and stop arguing.’

      ‘You’re right, you are controlling.’

      ‘In this weather, it’s an advantage. Accidenti, we’re both going to freeze.’ He took her hand and led her across the car park, noticing that her fingers were very slim and very cold. ‘You should wear gloves.’

      ‘I lost them.’ She snatched her hand away from his as if she had only just realised that he was holding her. Immediately she slipped on the ice and would have crashed to the ground if he hadn’t caught her. ‘Oops! Oh my goodness!’ Her legs slithered and he held her firmly, gritting his teeth as he felt the brush of her body against his.

      Liv started to giggle and her laughter was so infectious that he found himself smiling, too.

      ‘Stefano.’ He held her firmly as she struggled to regain her footing on the icy surface. ‘My name is Stefano. Start using it or I’ll drop you.’

      ‘If you drop me, you’ll end up fixing the damage. You can let go of me now, I’m fine.’ Gingerly her fingers released their grip on the front of his coat. ‘Thank you.’

      He tried to ignore the scent of her hair and the way her soft curves pressed against him, but the reaction of his body was instantaneous and he was experienced enough to know that the astonishing chemistry wasn’t all on his side.

      Her cheeks were pink and she was looking everywhere except at him.

      Definitely not all on his side.

      Wondering why she was so determined to get away from him when the attraction between them was so powerful, he reluctantly released her. ‘Let’s get in the car before we both develop hypothermia. Give me directions to your house.’

      Her eyes slid over his car, the streamlined black Ferrari that had been his Christmas present to himself two years previously. ‘All right, now I’m envious. Your car has no rust and I bet the engine starts first time.’

      ‘Actually it doesn’t.’ Stefano opened the door. ‘It hates the cold damp weather. I’m starting to think I should garage it over the winter and—’ He had been about to say ‘and use the other car’ when he’d realised how insensitive that would be in the circumstances. ‘Get in, Liv, before we both freeze.’

      With obvious reluctance, she did as she was told and he strode round the car and settled himself in the driver’s seat.

      With an unconsciously sensual movement, she slid her hands slowly over the leather seats and her eyes flickered to the dashboard. ‘Four point three litre engine,’ she murmured, ‘Naught to sixty in 3.9 seconds, F1 paddle shift transmission and carbon ceramic composite brakes.’

      Stefano stared at her in incredulous disbelief and she smiled at him.

      ‘Modified version of the 360s semi-space frame aluminium chassis. Capable of a top speed of 196 miles per hour.’

      Stefano drew some much-needed air into his lungs. ‘You’re interested in cars?’

      ‘Not in the slightest, but don’t tell my little boy. He thinks I love cars.’ Her eyes danced and her cheeks dimpled. ‘I’m living proof that it’s possible to sound knowledgeable about a subject without actually understanding anything. All I really know about your car is that it can go fast. Which isn’t much use in London.’

      Stefano started to laugh. ‘You memorised all that?’

      ‘Well, not intentionally. But Max doesn’t like fairy-tales much. He prefers to read about engines and how things work. Anna’s husband gave him a book on super-cars.’

      ‘So you curl up in bed at night reading about Ferraris?’

      ‘Gripping, don’t you think? I can hardly wait to turn the page. Next week we should be moving on to Lamborghini. I particularly enjoyed November because that was Maserati.’

      He loved her sense of humour but most of all he liked her smile. She was smiling at him now and it took all his willpower not to bring his mouth down on hers because the curve of her lips was so, so tempting.

      But there was no sign of flirtation. Nothing to suggest she was even aware of her own appeal or the effect she was having on him.

      ‘Your little boy is very lucky,’ he said softly and her smile dimmed slightly.

      ‘Not really. He’s crazy about cars and football. I’ve done a great deal of homework on both subjects but it isn’t really the same.’ Staring at the monitors on the dashboard, she looked suddenly wistful. ‘My own bedtime reading is a book on coaching football. Max is desperate to make the first team.’

      He could imagine her studying the book, trying to help her little boy. ‘He played today, so your coaching has obviously paid off.’

      ‘I wish that were true, but I’m afraid it isn’t. I think he has a natural talent but I have no idea how to foster that talent,’ she admitted. ‘I need to get some practical advice from somewhere. This afternoon all these fathers were yelling technical stuff to their boys and—’ She broke off and shot him an apologetic glance. ‘Sorry. This is very boring for you.’

      He’d never been less bored by a woman in his life. ‘I’m sure that the important thing for Max was that you were actually there, supporting him. Where is his father? Does he ever come and watch him?’ He leaned across and fastened her seat belt, feeling her shrink against the seat as his hands brushed against her body.

      She snuggled deeper inside the coat and he wondered why she was so self-conscious.

      ‘I have no idea where his father is,’ she croaked, her cheeks a little pinker than they had been a few moments before. ‘Off enjoying himself

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