The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal. Sarah Morgan

she wondered out loud, and Rita grinned.

      ‘Whoever said I was sane?’

      With an exasperated shake of her head, Alice walked along the corridor and pushed open the door of the room they used for minor surgery. ‘Dr Moretti, I’m so sorry, I’ve had a steady stream of patients and I lost track of the time.’

      He turned to look at her and for a brief, unsettling moment Alice remembered Rita’s comment about him being a walking fantasy. He was handsome, she conceded, in an intelligent, devilish and slightly dangerous way. She could see that some women would find him attractive. Fortunately she wasn’t one of them.

      ‘No problem.’ His smile came easily. ‘I’ve just finished here. I don’t need anyone to hold my hand.’

      ‘Shame,’ Rita breathed, and Alice shot her a look designed to silence.

      Gio ripped off his gloves and pushed the trolley away from him. ‘I think he’s safe to discharge. He wasn’t knocked out and his consciousness isn’t impaired. Fortunately he obviously drank less than his friends. I see no indication for an X-ray or a CT scan at the moment. He can be discharged with a head injury form.’ He turned to the boy, his expression serious. ‘I advise you to stay off the alcohol for a few days. If you start vomiting, feel drowsy, confused, have any visual disturbances or experience persistent headache within the next forty-eight hours, you should go to the A and E department at the hospital. Either way, you need those stitches out in four days. Don’t forget and don’t think it’s cool to leave them in.’

      The boy gave a nod and slid off the couch, his face ashen. ‘Yeah. I hear you. Thanks, Doc. Are the guys outside?’

      ‘They’re having a cosy chat with the police,’ Rita told him sweetly, and the boy flushed and rubbed a hand over his face.

      ‘Man, I’m sorry about that.’ He shook his head and breathed out heavily. ‘They were a bit the worse for wear. We were at an all-night beach party.’ He glanced sideways at Alice, his expression sheepish. ‘You OK?’

      She nodded. ‘I’m fine.’ She was busy looking at the wound. She couldn’t believe how neat the sutures were.

      The boy left the room, escorted by Rita.

      ‘You did an amazing job, thank you so much.’ Alice closed the door behind them and turned to Gio. ‘I never would have thought that was possible. That cut looked such a mess. So many ragged edges. I wouldn’t have known where to start.’

      But obviously he’d known exactly where to start. Despite appearances. If she hadn’t seen the results of his handiwork with her own eyes, she would still have struggled to believe that he was a doctor.

      When David had described his friend, she’d imagined a smooth, slick Italian in a designer suit. Someone safe, conservative and conventional in appearance and attitude.

      There was nothing safe or conservative about Gio.

      He hovered on the wrong side of respectable. His faded T-shirt was stretched over shoulders that were both broad and muscular and a pair of equally faded jeans hugged his legs. His face was deeply tanned, his jaw dark with stubble and his eyes held a hard watchfulness that suggested no small degree of life experience.

      She tried to imagine him dressed in a more conventional manner, and failed.

      ‘He’ll have a scar.’ Gio tipped the remains of his equipment into the nearest sharps bin. ‘But some of it will be hidden by his hair. I gather from Rita that you have a very long queue out there.’

      Remembering the patients, exhaustion suddenly washed over her and she sucked in a breath, wondering for a moment how she was going to get through the rest of the day. ‘I need to talk to the police and then get back to work. I’m sorry I don’t have time to give you a proper tour. Hopefully I can do that tomorrow, before you officially start.’

      ‘Forget the tour.’ His eyes scanned her face. ‘You look done in. The girl who made your coffee told me that you were up in the night, dealing with an asthma attack. You must be ready for a rest yourself. Let’s split the rest of the patients.’

      She gave a wan smile. ‘I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve been travelling all night.’ It occurred to her that he was the one who ought to look tired. Instead, his gaze was sharp, assessing.

      ‘You’re not asking, I’m offering. In fact, I’m insisting. If you drop dead from overwork before this afternoon, who will show me round?’

      His smile had a relaxed, easy charm and she found herself responding. ‘Well, if you’re sure. I’ll ask Mary to send David’s patients through to you. If you need any help just buzz me. Lift the receiver and press 3.’

       CHAPTER THREE

      ‘WHAT a day!’ Seven hours later, Gio rubbed a hand over his aching shoulder and eyed the waiting room warily. Morning surgery had extended into the afternoon well-woman clinic, which had extended into evening surgery. Even now the telephone rang incessantly, two little boys were playing noisily in the play corner and a harassed-looking woman was standing at the reception desk, wiggling a pram in an attempt to soothe a screaming baby. ‘I feel as though I have seen the entire population of Cornwall in one surgery. Is it always like this?’

      ‘No, sometimes it’s busy.’ Mary, the receptionist, replaced the phone once again and gave him a cheerful smile as she flicked through the box of repeat prescriptions for the waiting mother. ‘Don’t worry, you get used to it after a while. I could try locking the door but it would only postpone the inevitable. They’d all be back tomorrow. There we are, Mrs York.’ She handed over a prescription with a flourish and adjusted her glasses more comfortably on her nose. ‘How are those twins of yours doing, Harriet? Behaving themselves?’

      The young woman glanced towards the boys, her face pale. ‘They’re fine.’ Her tone had an edge to it as she pushed the prescription into her handbag. ‘Thanks.’

      The baby’s howls intensified and Mary stood up, clucking. She was a plump, motherly woman with curling hair a soft shade of blonde and a smiling face. Gio could see that she was dying to get her hands on the baby. ‘There, now. What a fuss. Libby York, what do you think you’re doing to our eardrums and your poor mother’s sanity?’ She walked round the reception desk, glanced at the baby’s mother for permission and then scooped the baby out of the pram and rested it on her shoulder, cooing and soothing. ‘Is she sleeping for you, dear?’ Despite the attention, the baby continued to bawl and howl and Harriet gritted her teeth.

      ‘Not much. She—’ The young woman broke off as the boys started to scrap over a toy. ‘Stop it, you two!’ Her tone was sharp. ‘Dan! Robert! Come here, now! Oh, for heaven’s sake…’ She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

      The baby continued to scream and Gio caught Mary’s eye and exchanged a look of mutual understanding. ‘Let me have a try.’ He took the baby from her, his touch firm and confident, his voice deep and soothing as he switched to Italian. The baby stopped yelling, hiccoughed a few times and then calmed and stared up at his face in fascination.

      At least one woman still found him interesting in a dishevelled state, he thought with a flash of amusement as he recalled Alice’s reaction to his appearance.

      Mary gave a sigh of relief and turned to Harriet. ‘There. That’s better. She wanted a man’s strength.’ She put a hand on the young mother’s arm. It was a comforting touch. ‘It’s hard when they’re this age. I remember when mine were small, there were days when I thought I’d strangle them all. It gets easier. Before you know it they’re grown.’

      Harriet looked at her and blinked back tears. Then she covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. ‘Sorry—oh, I’m being so stupid!’ Her hand dropped and she sniffed. ‘It’s just that I don’t know what to do with them half the time. Or what to do with me. I’m so tired I can’t think straight,’ she muttered, glancing