Italian Doctor, Dream Proposal. Margaret McDonagh

into the coat sleeves, an aching knot forming deep inside her as his hands lingered a moment before gently gathering up the long strands of her hair and easing them out from under the collar, his fingers brushing tantalisingly across the back of her neck. The temptation to remain in his arms, to lean back against him, was hard to resist. Forcing herself to move, she stepped forward, but failed to break the contact between them, or the electric connection, as Rico slowly turned her to face him. Several seconds ticked by as they watched each other in silence.

      ‘Green.’

      Ruth stared at him in confusion. ‘Excuse me?’

      ‘Your eyes,’ he explained, voice husky. ‘I expected them to be blue.’

      ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you.’

      Her response was sharper than she had intended but his comment had played on her insecurities, her belief that she never met expectations. She turned her head away, discomfited by his inspection, angry with herself for her naivety. Even if she wanted more than the possibility of working with him—which she didn’t, she was swift to try and convince herself—she could never be enough for a man as successful, intelligent and good looking as him. The intense and shocking moment of connection when they had first looked at each other had clearly short-circuited her brain.

      Ruth was startled when he caught her face, his hold gentle but insistent as he drew her gaze back to his. She couldn’t decipher the expression in his eyes, but her own widened in surprise, a tremor running through her as the pad of his thumb brushed across the little indentation between her lower lip and her chin. Her skin tingled from his touch. She’d had no idea she was so sensitive there.

      ‘You mistake my meaning, carissima. I was in no way making a complaint.’ His voice dropped to a rough purr and her insides clenched in response. The intensity with which he looked at her made her feel as if she were the tastiest morsel he had ever seen and he was very, very hungry. ‘Your eyes are beautiful. There is nothing remotely disappointing about them—or any part of you.’ He paused, regarding her for a moment in speculative silence before stroking his fingertips softly across her cheek, leaving little fires burning in his wake. ‘That you should think so is something we will have to address later.’ After a quick glance at his watch, he released her. ‘Now it is time for us to leave.’

      Hooking the strap of her bag over one shoulder, she preceded Rico out of the room and locked the door. As she made to move down the corridor towards the main stairs and lifts, Rico caught her hand, a wicked smile on his face as he led her in the opposite direction.

      ‘Rico, where are we going?’ she asked, her fingers linking far too naturally and easily with his.

      ‘We are playing truant, carissima.’

      The staged whisper, followed by a sexy wink, sent a tremor down her spine. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked as he opened a door that led to the back stairway used only by staff or in case of emergency.

      ‘If we stay here we will have little peace,’ he told her, leading the way down and keeping her close. ‘I am selfish enough to want you all to myself, so I have arranged for us to have dinner away from the hotel. If we go down the normal way we will be accosted long before we can reach the front door.’ On the ground floor, he peeped down the deserted corridor, then pushed open the fire exit and drew her outside with him, making sure the door clicked safely back into place behind them. ‘There is a taxi waiting for us. Our escape to carry out our secret mission is more fun, no?’

      It was, Ruth admitted, unable to hold back a smile. She caught his arm as he made to step out into the open, and there was a query in his eyes as he turned back to look at her.

      ‘You make for the car, Agent Linardi, and I’ll cover you,’ she told him in a terrible attempt at an American accent, ruining her efforts by giggling.

      Rico’s answering chuckle warmed her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, as did the delighted appreciation in his eyes that she was playing along. ‘Good thinking, Agent Baxter. When I give the signal, make a run for it,’ he instructed, adopting an even worse accent than hers.

      A moment later Rico waved to her and she hurried across to join him. They were both laughing as he opened the rear door of the taxi and bundled her inside. She slid along the backseat, feeling wonderfully light-hearted as he climbed in beside her, then he leaned forward to greet the driver and give him the address of the restaurant. Not for the first time that day she wondered how this man could make her feel cherished one moment and as if her whole ordered existence was threatened the next.

      Rico also made her feel valued. When he had told her how impressed he was with her quick study and her natural abilities, Ruth had been flattered and warmed by his praise. His words had meant more to her than he, or anyone else, would ever know. People saw her as cool, self-confident, even emotionless, but she was none of those things. That image was a façade, a shield she had cultivated in order to function and to hide the doubts and rejections, the disappointments and lack of self-worth that she had experienced for as long as she could remember.

      She may not like it, but she recognised that her craving for acceptance, her need to please and to belong, stemmed back to her childhood. And, deep inside, a part of her still yearned for approval, still struggled to be good enough. Her patients were appreciative, her few friends supportive, but it was Rico who had demonstrated the kind of belief in her that she had once longed, forlornly, to receive from her hyper-critical parents.

      Rico had accepted her intelligence and had encouraged her to push herself, challenging her over the past month with the questions he had posed in his emails. She had been fascinated and had spent any spare time studying the topics he had raised—much to the despair of Gina and Holly, who had literally dragged her out with them on several occasions, claiming she would burn out if she didn’t have some fun time. What they couldn’t understand was that she thrived on learning and stretching her mind. Rico’s emails had invigorated her. In person he was so much more.

      As the taxi driver engaged Rico in conversation, Ruth leaned back and reviewed the way the day had unfolded after the morning coffee break. It was hard to believe that she had only met this man in person ten hours ago. She still knew little about him, and yet she felt as if she had known him forever.

      When the morning session of talks had ended, Rico had rejoined her, staying close and making sure to sit next to her at lunch. He had introduced her to the people at their table, and to many others during the afternoon, especially those whose work he thought would interest her.

      Rico’s workshop had been incredible, and although he had often singled her out with testing questions, she hadn’t felt awkward, and his obvious approval when she had got things right had made her feel good. As he’d walked around the room, talking, questioning, presenting examples, his brief but frequent touches as he passed her—a hand resting on her shoulder or her head—had seemed to be instinctive, unconscious gestures, and always discreet, out of sight of the other people present. They increased her awareness of him but also gave her the novel feeling of being special and cared for. It had been a heady experience and she feared it would be all too easy to lose her head over this man.

      He was very protective and whilst he made her feel incredibly safe, she also knew the very real danger he posed. Aside from his stunning looks, his presence and his masculinity, she was drawn to his intelligence and his humour. And his voice had a crazy effect on her. It couldn’t just be his accent, Ruth mused. There were two Italian doctors living and working in or around Strathlochan—Gina’s fiancé, who worked with her at the drop-in centre, and Nic di Angelis, a GP from the practice in Lochanrig, one of the neighbouring villages. Both were handsome and charming men, and Ruth was comfortable with them, but neither affected her in the slightest. Not that way. No man ever had. Except Rico.

      Ruth was roused from her reverie when the man in question rested one hand on her knee. The touch was light and yet it burned her like a brand, sparking a fresh wave of desire, flames of it flaring through her whole body. The magnetic pull was too strong to resist and she looked at him, feeling the now-familiar jolt as their gazes connected. A slow smile curved his mouth, tightening the ache deep inside her.