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

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piece onto his plate. ‘Are you going to come?’

      ‘Max!’ Embarrassed and horrified, Liv dragged her gaze away from Stefano’s and poured coffee into two mugs. ‘Mr Lucarelli can’t—I mean, he’s very busy and he has to go in a minute and—’

      ‘No, I don’t. I’d love to play football.’ Stefano stretched his long legs out in front of him and winked at the boy. ‘As long as you are gentle with me. It’s a long time since I played.’

      ‘Do you like football?’

      ‘I’m Italian,’ Stefano pointed out. ‘All Italians are born loving pizza, football and fast cars.’

      ‘Perhaps I’m Italian.’ For a moment Max forgot about the chocolate cake. ‘Do you have a fast car?’

      ‘Very fast.’ Stefano smiled and Liv sat down opposite him, nursing her mug in her hands, watching as Max chatted.

      ‘Cool. I’d love to drive it but I’m not old enough yet. I’m trying to make it into the first team at school. Mum’s coaching me.’

      ‘I’m not sure I’d exactly describe it as coaching.’ Liv removed the remains of the chocolate log before Max was tempted to take a third slice. ‘That was delicious. Thank you, Stefano.’

      ‘Awesome.’ Max watched wistfully as she put the cake away. ‘Can we eat the rest later? After we’ve played football, we’re going to buy our Christmas tree.’

      Liv watched her son, her heart in her mouth. He was so, so trusting and while that was lovely in a way, it also terrified her. Despite not having a father, his little life had been stable and secure. She’d made sure of it. He didn’t even remember Jack and he had no idea how much pain and anguish lurked out there in the world.

      He had no idea what it felt like to be hurt.

      Suddenly she felt a rush of protectiveness and for the first time since Stefano had knocked on her door, her voice was steady. ‘Max, go and get changed. And spend ten minutes tidying your room.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘Untidy room, no football.’

      With an exaggerated groan, Max slid off the chair and huffed his way out of the kitchen.

      Liv closed the door behind him and Stefano’s eyes narrowed.

      ‘I sense I’m in trouble,’ he said softly. ‘Was it the chocolate log?’

      ‘I need to know what you’re doing here.’ She stood with her back to the door, wishing she’d changed out of her pyjamas before she’d started this conversation. ‘And don’t tell me you were just bringing me dessert.’

      ‘You refused my dinner invitation.’

      ‘And you always bring breakfast round to women who refuse you?’ When he didn’t answer immediately, she gave a hollow laugh. ‘Oh, don’t tell me—no one has ever said no to you before. Is that what is going on here? Is it a pursuit thing? Is this about your ego, Stefano?’

      He stirred. ‘I don’t have a problem with my ego.’ He placed his mug back on the table in a deliberate movement. ‘But I do enjoy your company.’

      She thought about that comment for a moment and then let out a little breath and lifted a hand to her hair. ‘Stefano, we both know that there are a million women out there who would give their entire salary to have breakfast with you. Women who are thinner and much more interesting than I am. So what I want to know is—what are you doing in my kitchen?’

      ‘I heard a rumour that you wore pink elephant pyjamas.’

      ‘Why are you joking?’

      ‘Whyareyou so lacking in confidence?’ His voice was soft. ‘Why is it so unlikely that I would seek out your company?’

      Liv looked at him in exasperation, aware that Max could remerge at any moment. ‘Do I really have to spell it out?’

      ‘Yes, I think you probably do.’ Eyes narrowed, he watched her. ‘I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.’

      ‘You’re dealing with someone ordinary, that’s what you’re dealing with. I try to be a good mother and I hope I’m a good nurse, but I’m not interesting and I’m certainly not sexy. I’ve had a child.’ Listening to herself, she gave a groan and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with you.’

      ‘How could you possibly believe that you’re not sexy?’

      ‘Because I have a perfectly good mirror in my bedroom.’ Liv forced herself to look him in the eye. ‘I honestly don’t know what you want from me. If it’s sex, and I can’t imagine for a moment that it would be,’ she added hastily, ‘then it’s only fair to warn you that it’s been so long since I did it, I’m not sure I can even remember how. I can guarantee that it would be the most crashing disappointment of your life. Don’t waste your time. I—I’m orinary, Stefano.’ The way he was looking at her made her hot and shivery at the same time.

      ‘If you don’t think you’re sexy then there is clearly something wrong with your mirror.’ His dark gaze lingered on her face. ‘And I don’t find you in the least bit “ordinary”. You are warm, kind, independent and unselfishly devoted to your child. That makes you extraordinary, Liv, not ordinary.’

      ‘Stefano—’

      ‘I’m not here because you said no to me, I’m here because I enjoy your company and I want to spend the day with you. Do I want to have sex with you?’ He gave a slow smile and a fatalistic lift of his broad shoulders. ‘Yes, of course, I do. And if you have forgotten how then don’t worry, I will remind you.’

       ‘Stefano!’

      ‘You’re being honest, so I will be the same. I am Italian and you are extremely sexy. But I’m willing to delay that part until you feel a little more comfortable with me. Then we’ll see. Perhaps you will decide you’d like hot sex for Christmas after all.’

      The colour poured into her cheeks and she closed her eyes. ‘So you did overhear our conversation.’

      ‘Anna has a loud voice.’

      ‘And she was voicing her own opinions, not mine,’ Liv said in a strangled voice. ‘I can’t think of anything more horrifying than having hot sex with you—’

      ‘Grazie.’

      She covered her face with her hands. ‘That didn’t come out the way I meant it to come out. You must know how attractive you are—you don’t need me to tell you that. It’s just that—’

      ‘You’re a nervous wreck,’ he said, watching her with a faint hint of amusement in his lazy dark eyes. Unlike her, he was totally at ease with the conversation and with himself.

      Her hands dropped to her sides and she gave a little shake of her head, knowing that whatever happened nothing would give her the courage to take her clothes off in front of this man.

      ‘You

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