Alessandro and the Cheery Nanny. Amy Andrews
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He moved to stand beside her. ‘Good afternoon, Nat.’
Nat took a steadying breath. ‘Dr Lombardi,’ she said, refusing to turn and face him. She jabbed at the ‘G’ several more times—why was this lift so damn slow?
‘Be careful. You’ll break it.’
She could detect a faint trace of amusement in his voice but today with the heat and the eviction hanging over her head she really wasn’t in the mood. She hit it one more time for good measure.
Which was when the lift came to a grinding halt, causing her to stumble against him. She heard him mutter ‘Porca vacca’ as he was jostled towards her and she supposed, absently, a profanity was better than an I told you so.
His hand cupped her elbow and the lights flickered out. It was a few seconds before either of them moved or spoke. Alessandro recovered first.
‘Are you okay?’
His big hand was warm on her arm and for a second she even leaned into him, her pulse skipping madly in her chest as her body tried to figure out what was the bigger problem. Being stuck in a lift. Or being stuck in a lift with Alessandro Lombardi.
‘You know,’ she said, moving her elbow out of his grasp, ‘when they teach you a foreign language it’s always the swear words you learn first?’
Alessandro chuckled. ‘Guilty.’
His low laughter sounded strange coming from a man who had thus far looked incapable of anything remotely joyous. But it enveloped her in the darkness and made her feel curiously safe.
The lights flickered on, or at least one of them did, and Alessandro braced himself for the lift to power up and lurch to a start. When nothing happened he looked down at Nat, who was looking expectantly at the ceiling. He hadn’t realised they were standing so close.
Her flower-garden scent wafted towards him and when her gaze shifted from surveying the ceiling to meet his, the urge to move closer, to stroke his finger down her cheek, was a potent force.
He took a step back. His attraction to this woman was a complication he didn’t need. ‘I’ll ring and see what’s happened.’
Nat nodded absently, also backing up, pleased to feel the solidness of the wall behind her. For a moment there, maybe it had been the half-light, his eyes had darkened even further and she could have sworn he was going to touch her. In a good way.
She felt as if there wasn’t enough air suddenly and took some calming breaths. She wasn’t the hysterical type and now was not the time to become one.
Nat listened absently as Alessandro had a conversation with someone on the other end of the lift’s emergency phone. It was brief and from the tone it didn’t sound like they were getting out any time soon.
He hung up the phone and turned to her. ‘There’s a problem with the city grid. Something to do with the heat wave. The emergency power has kicked in but two lifts have failed to start. They’re working on it.’
Nat licked her lips, the thought of spending time with him in a confined space rather unsettling. Did he also feel the buzz between them or was it all one sided? ‘Did they have any idea how long it might take?’
‘No.’
‘Porca vacca,’ she muttered, figuring Alessandro’s instinctive expletive was as good as any. In either language.
Alessandro suppressed another chuckle. He could see her gaze darting around the lift and he wondered if she was trying to calculate carbon-dioxide build-up or was looking for an escape hatch. ‘You’re not claustrophobic, I hope?’
Nat shook her head. ‘No. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed if you’re waiting for me to turn into a hysterical female.’
Was he disappointed? Certainly Camilla would have thrown her first tantrum by now, demanding to speak to someone in authority. He much preferred Nat’s calm resignation. ‘Good.’
Nat glanced at him briefly and quickly looked away. He loomed in the dim light and with each passing second he seemed to take up more room. ‘Well, no point in standing. Might as well get comfortable for the long haul.’
She sat then, cross-legged on the floor, her back pressed to the wall. She looked up at him looking down at her and was reminded of their first meeting when she’d had the bean-bag disadvantage. He was looking at her with that now familiar coolness in his eyes.
‘Sit down, for God’s sake,’ she grouched.
Alessandro frowned. Nat Davies was one bossy little package. He slid down the wall, planting his feet evenly in front of him, his knees bent. ‘Are you always this disagreeable?’
Nat, who was excruciatingly aware of his encroaching masculinity, shot him a startled look. She opened her mouth to protest. No, she wasn’t. Despite her father’s desertion and the recent ending of a long-term messy relationship that would have caused the most congenial woman to become a bitter hag, she was essentially a very agreeable person.
Perennially happy. Everyone said so. She almost told him so too. But then a quick review of the twice she’d spoken to him had her conceding that his comment was probably fair.
She raised her gaze from the very fascinating way his trousers pulled across his thigh muscles. ‘I owe you an apology. For the other day. After Ernie. I was out of line. It was none of my business.’
Alessandro was surprised by her admission. It was refreshing to be with a woman who could apologise. ‘You did overstep the line a little.’
Nat wanted to protest again, justify her reaction as being in Julian’s interests, but he was right. ‘I get too involved. I always have. The matron where I trained said I was a hopeless case.’
Alessandro smiled grudgingly. He removed his stethoscope and loosened his tie. It was already starting to get stuffy without the benefit of the air-conditioning. ‘There are worse human flaws.’
He knew that only too well.
Nat stared at how even a small lift to his beautiful mouth transformed his face. Combined with the now skew tie and the undone top button, revealing a tantalising glimpse of very male neck, he really was a sight to behold. She smiled back. ‘She didn’t think so.’
Alessandro straightened a leg, stretching it out in front of him. He shrugged, looking directly at her. ‘We’d just lost the battle to save a man’s life. Death affects everyone in different ways.’
The teasing light she’d glimpsed briefly snuffed out and he seemed bleak and serious again. An older version of Julian. She hesitated briefly before voicing the question that entered her head. But they had to talk about something. And maybe he was looking for an opening? ‘How long ago did your wife die?’
Alex felt the automatic tensing of the muscles in his neck. A fragment of a memory slipped