Taming the Notorious Sicilian. Michelle Smart

behind the bar, watching as she set the flowers and card to one side. He had never been presented with flowers before. The gesture intrigued him. ‘What can I get you to drink?’

      ‘I could murder a coffee.’

      ‘Nothing stronger?’

      ‘I don’t drink alcohol, thank you. In any case, I’ve been working since seven and if I don’t get an enormous shot of caffeine I might just pass out.’ He liked the droll way she spoke, the air of amusement that laced her voice. It made a change from the usual petulant tones he was used to hearing from her sex.

      ‘You’re back at work already?’

      ‘I was back within a fortnight, as soon as I’d recovered from the concussion.’

      ‘Any other injuries?’

      ‘A broken clavicle—collarbone—which is fusing back together nicely. Oh, and a broken middle finger, but that seems to be healed now.’

      ‘You don’t know if your own finger’s healed?’

      She shrugged and hopped onto a stool, facing him. ‘It doesn’t hurt anymore so I assume it’s healed.’

      ‘Is that a professional diagnosis?’

      She grinned. ‘Absolutely.’

      ‘Remind me not to come and see you if I need medical attention,’ he commented drily, stepping over to the coffee machine.

      ‘You’re about twenty years too old for me.’

      He raised a brow.

      Her grin widened. ‘Sorry, I mean you’re twenty years too old for me to treat in a medical capacity, unless you want to be treated on a ward full of babies, toddlers, and kids. I’m specialising in paediatrics.’

      It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why she had chosen to specialise in children but he kept his question to himself. He wanted to know why she had sought him out.

      He placed a cup in the machine and pressed a button. ‘Do you take milk and sugar?’

      ‘No milk but two sugars, please. I might as well overdose on that as well as caffeine.’

      His thoughts exactly. He added two heaped spoons to both cups and passed one to her.

      His initial assessment of her had been correct. She really was very pretty. Of average height and slender, her practical trousers showcased the most fabulous curvy bottom. It was a shame she was now sitting on it. The more he looked at her, the more he liked what he saw.

      And he could tell that she liked what she saw, too.

      Yes, this unexpected visit from Dr Chapman could take a nice twist.

      A very nice twist.

      He took a sip of his strong, sweet coffee before placing his cup next to hers, folding his arms across his chest and leaning on the bar before her.

      ‘Why are you here?’

      Her eyes never left his face. ‘Because I needed to let you know how grateful I am. You kept me warm until the ambulance arrived, then travelled in the ambulance with me, stayed at the hospital for hours until I’d regained consciousness, and you tracked down the driver who hit me and forced him to hand himself in to the police. No one has ever done anything like that for me before, and you’ve done it for a complete stranger.’

      Her face was so animated, her cheeks so heightened with colour, that for a moment his fingers itched to reach out and touch her.

      How did she know all this? He’d left the hospital as soon as he’d been given word that she’d regained consciousness. He hadn’t seen her since.

      ‘How about you let me buy you dinner one night, so I can thank you properly?’ Colour tinged her cheeks.

      ‘You want to buy me dinner?’ He didn’t even attempt to keep the surprise from his voice. Women didn’t ask him out on dates. It just didn’t happen. For certain, they thought nothing of cajoling him into taking them out to expensive restaurants and lavishing them with expensive clothes and jewellery—something he was happy to oblige them in, enjoying having beautiful women on his arm. But taking the initiative and offering him a night out...?

      In Francesco’s world, man was king. Women were very much pretty trinkets adorning the arm and keeping the bed warm. Men did the running, initially at least, following the traps set by the women so the outcome was assured.

      She nodded, cradling her coffee. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

      He studied her a touch longer, gazing into soft hazel eyes that didn’t waver from his stare.

      Was there an agenda to her surprising offer of dinner?

      No. He did not believe so. But Francesco was an expert on female body language and there was no doubt in his mind that she was interested in him.

      He was tempted. Very tempted.

      He’d thought about her numerous times since her accident. There had even been occasions when he’d found his hand on the phone ready to call the hospital to see how she was. Each time he had dismissed the notion. The woman was a stranger. All the same, he’d been enraged to learn the police had failed to track down the man who’d so callously knocked her down. The driver had gone into hiding. Unfortunately for the driver, Francesco had a photographic memory.

      It had taken Francesco’s vast network precisely two hours to track the driver down. It had taken Francesco less than five minutes to convince the man to hand himself in. By the time he’d finished his ‘little chat’ with him, the man had been begging to be taken to the police station. Francesco had been happy to oblige.

      And now she had come to him.

      And he was tempted to take her up on her offer of a meal—not that he would let her pay. It went against everything he believed in. Men took care of their women. The end.

      If it was any other woman he wouldn’t think twice. But this one was different. For a start, she was a doctor. She was a force for good in a world that was cruel and ugly.

      Despite her age and profession, Hannah had an air of innocence about her. Or it could just be that she was totally without artifice. Either way, she had no business getting involved with the likes of him.

      If he was a lesser man he would take advantage of her obvious interest, just like his father would have done if he’d been alive.

      But he would not be that man. This woman was too...pure was the word that came to mind. If she were the usual kind of woman who frequented his world, he would have no hesitation in spelling out how she could repay her so-called debt to him. Naked. And horizontal.

      ‘You owe me nothing,’ he stated flatly.

      ‘I do...’

      ‘No.’ He cut her off. ‘What you consider to be your debt is not redeemable. I did what I did without any thought of payback—consider the fact you are alive and healthy and able to do the job you love to be my payment.’

      The animation on her face dimmed a little. ‘So you won’t let me buy you dinner?’

      ‘Look around you. You don’t belong in this seedy world, Dr Chapman. I thank you for taking the time to visit me, but now I have business to attend to.’

      ‘That sounds like a dismissal.’

      ‘I am a busy man.’

      Those hazel eyes held his for the longest time before she cast him the most beautiful smile he’d ever been the recipient of, lighting her face into something dazzling.

      Then, to his utter shock, Hannah levered herself so her torso was on the bar and pressed her lips to his.

      They were the softest of lips, a gentle touch that sent tiny darts fizzing through his blood.

      He caught a faint whiff of coffee before she pulled away.

      ‘Thank