Название | The Italian's Passionate Proposal |
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Автор произведения | Sarah Morgan |
Жанр | Современная зарубежная литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современная зарубежная литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
‘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 none of them look like you.’
Was that good or bad?
‘So what’s wrong with me?’
Her smile faded and he saw the uncertainty in her eyes, and something else that had a serious effect on the fit of his jeans. ‘Oh, there’s nothing wrong with you at all. That’s what I mean.’
His blood heated and he had to stop himself grabbing her again. ‘Well, until you see me in action you’re just going to have to take my word for it. So, can I come?’
She tipped her head to one side. ‘Well, if you’re truly an obstetrician, then tell me where you work.’
‘I’m doing a locum job at St Catherine’s from tomorrow.’
Using a false surname that only he, his security team and the most senior member of the hospital were aware of.
Her eyes widened. ‘That’s spooky! I work there, too.’
Did she, now? That was the best news he’d had for months.
‘Which definitely means I can come on your visit,’ he said smoothly. ‘We’re colleagues. And after that I’m walking you home and we can heal each other’s bruises.’
Her lips parted slightly and he held his breath. If she said no, he was in big trouble.
‘I—I don’t know…’
The wary look was back and he gave her a smile that he hoped was non-threatening.
‘Look, I know this was an unconventional meeting, but you don’t need to be scared of me. If I step out of line you can always black my other eye.’
Maybe he was playing dirty by appealing to her conscience but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let her walk out of his life.
‘All right.’ She hauled the bag onto her shoulder and jerked her head towards a high-rise building in the next street. ‘Come with me to see Kelly and then we’ll go back to my place and sort your face out. It’s the least I can do after having tried to half kill you.’
Resisting the impulse to punch the air in triumph, Carlo shortened his stride to match hers and followed her up seemingly endless flight of soulless concrete steps that intersected the flats.
He glanced around with a deepening frown.
No wonder she didn’t like coming here at night. The place was menacing and rough. Definitely not somewhere to be after dark. Especially for a woman on her own. The walls were covered in graffiti, there were smashed windows and boarded-up doors and, even this close to Christmas, there was very little evidence of festive cheer.
The girl came to a halt in front of a door, tugged the woollen hat back on her head and stuffed her hair back underneath it.
‘All part of the disguise.’ She tossed him a smile that made his whole body ache, and tapped on the door.
‘Kelly?’ She leaned closer to the door. ‘Kelly, it’s Zan. Let me in.’
Zan? Carlo blinked in surprise.
What sort of a name was Zan?
He was still trying to work it out when the door jerked open and a burly man stood there.
If ever a man was looking for a fight it was this one, and instinctively Carlo straightened his shoulders and prepared himself for trouble.
What the hell was the girl doing in a place like this? This certainly wasn’t his idea of midwifery.
‘Hi, Mike.’ Zan didn’t seem remotely nervous. Instead, she just gave the man the same warm smile she’d used on him earlier and peeped round him into the flat. ‘Can I see Kelly? I brought some stuff…’
She jiggled the black bin back temptingly and Mike’s face darkened.
‘We ain’t taking no charity!’
Zan shook her head. ‘Of course you’re not. It isn’t charity,’ she said easily, her tone relaxed and friendly. ‘Mothers swap clothes all the time. Someone I look after was having a clear-out—I just thought you might find it useful, but I can offer it to someone else if you prefer…’
Mike glowered at her and then opened the door wider. ‘And while we’re at it Kelly ain’t going to hospital, so don’t even think about suggesting it.’ He looked over her shoulder and his eyes narrowed as they fixed on Carlo. He looked at him man to man, his eyes resting on the width of Carlo’s shoulders. ‘Who’s he?’
Zan opened her mouth but Carlo spoke first.
‘I’m a doctor. Carlo Bennett.’
He almost stumbled over the surname, because