The Italian Doctor's Proposal. Kate Hardy

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The Italian Doctor's Proposal - Kate Hardy Mills & Boon Medical

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her avoidance strategy didn’t last long. She’d seen two more patients when Mal met her in the corridor. ‘Boss wants a word with you,’ he said.

      ‘What about?’

      ‘Dunno. He did say as soon as you could manage it.’ He gave her a wicked grin. ‘What have you been up to, Luce?’

      ‘Working, Malcolm,’ she said, clearly a shade too defensively because his grin broadened.

      ‘I’ll believe you, Luce.’

      Lucy decided not to dignify him with a reply and went down the corridor to Nic’s office. She rapped on the door.

      ‘Come in.’

      She put her head round the door. ‘You wanted a word?’

      He nodded. ‘Come in and close the door, please.’

      Her heart sank. What was she supposed to have done now?

      He waited for her to sit down, and the knot in her stomach tightened. She hadn’t done anything wrong. So why did she feel as if she were about to be carpeted for some stupid mistake? The tension in the room grew until she wanted to scream.

      And then he smiled at her. ‘I wanted to apologise,’ he said, ‘for embarrassing you at the ball the other night.’

      She stared at him in disbelief. He was apologising?

      ‘If you want to slap my face, feel free—any time,’ he said, shocking her further. Did this mean that kiss hadn’t been a set-up? But, given what she now knew about him, thanks to an old friend she’d trained with, he could be teasing her again.

      There was only one way to find out. ‘Why did you do it?’

      ‘Kiss you?’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘Why do you think?’

      ‘You always have to rise to a challenge.’ The words were out before she could stop them.

      ‘Something like that.’

      So it had been a set-up. She lifted her chin. ‘Then you’re very easily manipulated. And you’ll find certain junior staff more than willing to take advantage of that.’

      He frowned. ‘I’m not with you.’

      ‘If someone dares you to do something, you’ll just do it?’ She rolled her eyes.

      ‘Dares me to do what?’

      It was her turn to frown. Weren’t they talking about the same thing? ‘You were dared to kiss me at the ball.’

      Lucy thought someone had set him up him to kiss her? Nic just about managed to stop his jaw dropping. She really had that low an opinion of herself? But why? Didn’t she know how gorgeous she was? ‘Lucy…it wasn’t like that,’ he said carefully.

      ‘Wasn’t it?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘So why did you kiss me, then?’

      ‘Because I wanted to.’ He tipped his head on one side. ‘Why do you think I was dared to do it?’

      ‘Because…’

      The words clearly stuck in her throat. Though he could guess what she was going to say. His brief getting-to-know-the-team conversation with Rosemary had told him an awful lot more than the senior midwife realised. Especially about Lucy. Which meant he had to handle this carefully.

      ‘You looked as if you wanted to be a thousand miles away,’ he said. ‘I wanted to…’ He lapsed into Italian.

      ‘Sorry. Latin, yes, as long as it’s medical—Italian, no,’ Lucy said.

      He smiled wryly. ‘I said I wanted make you smile. It was all meant to be a bit of fun. Theatrical.’

      ‘It was that all right,’ she said drily.

      Until their mouths had actually touched. Then it had become a whole new ballgame. A much, much more serious thing. He couldn’t help looking at her mouth now. Big mistake. It reminded him how she’d tasted. And he wanted to do it again. And again. Somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed.

      Here, a little voice said inside his head. Here and now. Your office door is closed…

      He should be detached and professional. He was her colleague—a colleague who’d taken the job she’d been doing for weeks. So he was supposed to be treading on eggshells. He was supposed to keep his distance. He knew all that. And in spite of it, he found himself walking round to her side of the desk. Taking her hand. Turning it palm uppermost…And she didn’t pull away.

      ‘I wanted to kiss you, Lucy,’ he said. ‘I wanted to…’ The touch of her skin was too much for him. All his good intentions went straight out of the window. Unable to help himself, he bent his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. ‘I wanted to do this,’ he said huskily.

      Nic’s Italian. A showman. A flirt. For goodness’ sake, you know what Pauline told you yesterday—the corridors at Plymouth hospital are littered with broken hearts. He’s a brilliant doctor and great to work with—but don’t be stupid enough to go out with him. He never dates anyone more than three times.

      What’s he’s doing to you doesn’t mean a thing, Lucy warned herself frantically. That smouldering smile’s just a performance. As soon as you let him sweep you off your feet, you’ll have two more dates and then he’ll be off to the next challenge.

      Her body wasn’t buying it. It went completely un-doctor-like. Her pulse quickened, her pupils expanded and she could feel her face growing bright red. ‘I…’

      ‘And this,’ he said, touching his tongue to the pulse that had started to beat crazily against her skin.

      ‘And—’ The harsh sound of his bleeper cut across his words.

      ‘Saved by the bleep,’ he said wryly, taking his pager from his pocket and glancing at the display. ‘But I think we need to talk, Lucia mia.’

      Lucy stayed sitting exactly where she was as he left the room. What on earth was going on? She was the sensible one in the family—apart from the one huge mistake in her life that nobody ever talked about, she’d always been sensible and studious and never let anything get in the way of her work. She hardly knew Nic Alberici, only what she’d heard about him from her friend Pauline in Nic’s old hospital—that professionally he was wonderful and personally he was a walking disaster area.

      So why was her body reacting to him like this? Why did her pulse race when she heard his voice or saw his smile? Why did her body go up in flames every time he touched her?

      Why had he kissed the inside of her wrist like that?

      And as for the way he’d Italianised her name—well, she wasn’t a glamorous and sexy Lu-chee-ah. She was sensible Lucy Williams, senior registrar. She wore sensible, comfortable shoes and tailored trousers to work; she kept her hair pinned back severely, never wore nail-varnish and her make-up was non-existent. Lucia, on the other hand, would be tall

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