The Italian Doctor's Proposal. Kate Hardy

      ‘Catch you later, princess,’ he said, then tipped his hat briefly, gave her a broad wink and spun on his heel as he wrapped his black cloak back round him.

      It was completely theatrical and over the top. She should have laughed. Except she felt too sick when she realised what had just happened. Whoever the highwayman was, that kiss had been a set-up. A very public one. She could guess just who’d put him up to it, too—even what he’d said. ‘Lucy’s an ice maiden. It’s about time someone proved she melts.’

      She gritted her teeth. If she ever—ever—came across the highwayman again, she’d roast him alive.

      And as for her SHO…Malcolm Hobart had better hope she was in a better mood when she was back on duty tomorrow morning.

       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘HARD luck, Luce.’

      Lucy forced herself not to make the response that rose instantly to her lips—a snarl of ‘don’t call me Luce’—knowing that Mal just wanted to get a rise out of her. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d managed to rattle her. Though once she’d done the ward rounds, she was going to have a private word with him about practical jokes.

      One practical joke in particular.

      ‘You know, that job really should’ve been yours,’ Mal continued.

      ‘Obviously the powers that be thought differently.’ She gave what she hoped looked like a philosophical shrug. ‘Was there something specific you wanted to ask me about, Malcy, dearest, or can we do the ward round now?’

      He whistled. ‘You’re really sore about it, aren’t you? Losing out to Nic Alberici like that, when everyone thought the job had your name on it.’

      ‘I am not sore,’ Lucy said through gritted teeth.

      ‘Lucy Williams, obstetric consultant. Sounds good.’ Mal gave her a mischievous look. ‘Maybe if you’d been Luke Williams, you’d have been in with a better chance.’

      Lucy knew better than to listen to Mal—and better still than to let him wind her up. And far better than to say what he clearly believed she was thinking. So why did she have to open her mouth and say it? ‘Jobs for the boys, isn’t it, Mal? And as I’m not intending to have a sex change and become an Italian playboy to suit the hospital bigwigs, I’ll just have to lump it, won’t I?’

      Too late, she saw Rosemary, the senior midwife, shaking her head, grimacing and holding her hands up flat and crossed, moving them slightly but very fast: the age-old signal for ‘stop right there’.

      Too late, she heard a sultry voice behind her say, ‘It’s half-Italian, actually. My mother’s English.’

      Please, earth, open up and swallow me right now.

      It didn’t.

      Please? she tried again.

      Not even a tiny dent in the tiles, let alone the huge pit she needed.

      So there was only one thing for it. Face her embarrassment head-on. She stopped holding her breath and spun round on her heel, ready to apologise to Nic Alberici for her rudeness and reassure him that she was looking forward to working with him…

      And then she saw his eyes. Dark hazel eyes, a curious mixture of brown and grey. Eyes she’d seen before. Except this time they weren’t warm and smiling and sexy and knowing. This time, they were cold and absolutely furious.

      Can today get any worse? she thought. The man who’d embarrassed her at the fancy-dress ball was her new boss. So she couldn’t bawl him out, the way she’d promised herself she would.

      She also couldn’t give in to the feelings that threatened to make her knees buckle again. He was her boss, for goodness’ sake.

      So there was only one thing she could do. Be professional.

      She lifted her chin. ‘I’m sorry. You must be Mr Alberici,’ she said politely, extending her hand. ‘Lucy Williams, special reg. Welcome to River Ward.’

      He didn’t take it. ‘Jobs for the boys—an Italian playboy, hmm?’

      Uh-oh. Raw nerve. She shrugged. ‘Figure of speech. It wasn’t personal.’

      ‘I think, Dr Williams—’ his emphasis of her title made it clear he wasn’t going to be easily mollified ‘—that you and I need a little chat. Sooner rather than later. Perhaps we could go to my office?’

      She could see Mal’s smirk out of the corner of her eye and could have kicked herself. But it was her own fault. She knew what Mal was like: he put everyone else out of the running for the wooden spoon award. He’d probably spotted Nic Alberici coming their way when he’d started needling her about the fact she hadn’t got the consultant’s post. She should have second-guessed Mal and avoided the subject. Now she and Nic Alberici had got off on the wrong foot. Just what she didn’t need.

      Meekly, she followed Nic to his office. The office she’d been using for the last month or so as acting consultant.

      He gestured to her to sit down opposite him.

      ‘I’m sorry you overheard that,’ she said quietly.

      ‘Clearly I wasn’t meant to.’ If anything, his eyes had grown even colder.

      And she’d always thought brown eyes were warm. Lucy swallowed. ‘I shouldn’t have said it in the first place.’

      ‘If you’re going to have a problem working with me, Dr Williams, I’d prefer to be the first to know,’ he said. ‘It’s important that patients—’

      ‘Feel confident in the team working with them,’ Lucy cut in. ‘I agree. And I don’t have a problem working with you, Mr Alberici. What you overheard…’ She paused, wondering how to say it without making it sound as if she was blaming Mal, too gutless to take responsibility for her own mistakes. ‘It’s not the way I think. It’s the way some of the other staff believe I think.’

      ‘Ever heard the saying, “Perception is reality”?’

      ‘Yes, but not in this case. I admit I thought I’d get the consultant’s job; I’ve been standing in as acting consultant ever since Mike left. But you’re older than I am, you’re more experienced and you’ve a good reputation.’ And he was better qualified. ‘So you were the better candidate and I’m sure I can learn something from you.’

      He didn’t look convinced. ‘So why…?’

      ‘Why did I say that to Mal?’ She shrugged. ‘You know Mal.’ Of course he did. Hadn’t Mal been the one to talk him into kissing her at the charity ball? She ignored the tiny niggle of doubt, and continued, ‘Work it out for yourself.’

      There was a long, very awkward pause.

      Finally, he spoke. ‘So what now?’

      ‘I apologise again, I reassure you that I’m a professional, you accept it—’ Lucy ticked off the points on her fingers ‘—and we do the ward round before our pregnant mums get discharged with their three-day-old babies.’

      His lips quirked at that. So he had a sense of humour. Well, that was a start.

      ‘Apology accepted, Dr Williams.’ The warmth she’d seen when he’d kissed her was slowly seeping back into his eyes. Not to mention the warmth in the pit of her stomach. Why did he have to have a smile like that? Why couldn’t he have been…well, middle-aged and dull and not the slightest bit sexy?

      Not to mention that voice. The slight accent that made her wonder what his voice would sound like in passion…

      No. She was not going to start thinking like that about anyone, let alone her new boss. She was a professional. And she