Mistletoe Brides
Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride
Sarah Morgan
Christmas Angel for the Billionaire
Liz Fielding
His Vienna Christmas Bride
Jan Colley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Christmas Angel for the Billionaire

About the Author

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

A CHRISTMAS TRADITION

His Vienna Christmas Bride

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Endpage

Copyright

Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride

USA TODAY bestselling author SARAH MORGAN writes contemporary romance and her trademark humour and sensuality have gained her fans across the globe. She has been nominated four years in row for the prestigious RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America and has won the award twice.

Sarah lives near London with her family. When she isn’t writing, she loves spending time outdoors. Visit her website at www.sarahmorgan.com.

CHAPTER ONE

‘I’M ABSOLUTELY not getting married again. Not ever. Not in a million years. Don’t even suggest it. Once was more than enough.’ Liv closed the drug cupboard and stared at the bunch of glittering silver tinsel attached to the door. ‘That can’t stay there, Anna.’

‘Of course it can. It’s Christmas. I hung mistletoe there to begin with, until I realised that the only male I’m ever alone in this room with is the chief pharmacist.’ Her colleague gave an expressive shudder. ‘Now, stop changing the subject. You have to forget that you’ve been married before. Everyone’s allowed one mistake in life.’

‘Well, Jack was certainly that. A mistake disguised as a smooth-talking, good-looking man. On the outside he seemed entirely normal.’ Liv glanced at her friend and gave a little shrug. ‘Actually that’s not true. His disguise was a bit thin in places. There were clues, it’s just that I missed them. Which is the other reason I wouldn’t dare to get involved with anyone again. Obviously I just see what I want to see.’

Anna frowned. ‘You’re so hard on yourself.’

‘Well, that tends to happen when you’ve deluded yourself once.’

‘It wasn’t delusion,’ Anna said firmly, ‘it was trust. You trusted him. And he let you down.’

‘It was delusion,’ Liv said calmly, checking the stock of antibiotics. ‘All the signs were there, but I ignored them because I just didn’t want to see them. Even when Jack walked out of the delivery room saying “I can’t do this”, I told myself he was just talking about the stress of seeing his beloved wife in labour, whereas what he was trying to say was that he just couldn’t “do” responsibility. He didn’t want to be a father. And he didn’t want to be married to me. It’s just a pity for Max that he didn’t make that decision a little bit sooner.’ She put the boxes back on the shelf. ‘Actually I don’t mean that because then I wouldn’t have Max and he’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.’

‘You’re a wonderful mother and Max is a lucky boy.’

Is he?

Liv pushed through the guilt that was always pressing in on her. ‘Well, I’ve learned to kick a football, if that’s what you’re saying, and I know the difference between a Lamborghini and a Ferrari but that doesn’t make up for the fact that Max has a mother who works and no man in his life.’

Anna beamed at her. ‘So use those tickets you won to the Snowflake Ball!’

‘I’m not using the tickets.’

‘Liv, it’s Christmas! Time to let your hair down and party. This is a fabulous opportunity to meet someone. For goodness’ sake, those tickets are like gold dust. Michelle on Paediatrics was offered a thousand pounds for hers but she refused to sell.’

‘You’re kidding! Who on earth was stupid enough to offer her that much money?’ Liv’s jaw dropped. ‘Did she make a note of the name? I could sell my tickets and replace my car.’

‘Why must you always be so practical?’

‘Because I’m a single mother with a child of seven and responsibilities.’ Liv checked the expiry date on a tube of eye ointment. ‘If I’m not practical, we don’t eat.’

‘Has your car actually died?’

‘Not yet. It likes to keep me in suspense.’

Anna waved a hand dismissively. ‘Forget the car. This is London—you can always get the train. Keep the tickets and go to the ball, Cinderella.’

‘Given the meagre contents of my wardrobe, that’s not a bad analogy. I certainly have plenty of rags to choose from.’

Anna stood back and narrowed her eyes. ‘I’d offer to lend you a dress but you’re actually quite— Your boobs are—’

‘Big,’ Liv slotted in wryly. ‘I am aware of that, actually, having had them stuck to the front of my chest for the past twenty-eight years.’

‘You were born with those?’ Anna started to laugh and Liv rolled her eyes.

‘How did we start this conversation? It isn’t as if we’re not busy. There’s ice on the roads and we’ve had three road traffic accidents in so far today. Last time I looked the waiting room was busier than the shops. Stop interfering in my life and go and heal the sick.’

‘Only if you promise me that your New Year’s resolution is to start seeing men. You don’t actually have to get married—’

‘That’s a relief.’

‘But at least go on a date. I’m worried about you. I mean…’ Anna looked despairing. ‘Aren’t you lonely? When did you last have sex?’

‘For crying out loud, Anna!’ Mortified, Liv glanced over her shoulder to check that they were still the only two people in the tiny room.

‘The fact that the mere word is enough to embarrass you tells me it’s been far too long. You’ve been divorced for four years. It’s time to get out there again,’ Anna said firmly. ‘If you’re scared of a relationship then just have a one-night stand.’

‘No way!’ The thought horrified Liv. ‘I hate the idea of waking up next to a man I don’t know and don’t care about. That just leads to misery.’

‘There are two solutions to that. You can either kick him out of bed before he falls asleep or you could find a man you do know and do care about.’

‘That just leads to misery, too. And anyway, I don’t have the courage to take my clothes off in front of anyone.’ Liv shuddered at the thought. ‘And anyway, it isn’t just about me. I have a little boy of seven. I don’t want to trail a series of different men through his life. That’s not how I want him to grow up.’

‘You should be showing him that relationships are part of life, Liv. Yes, sometimes they go wrong. But sometimes they work. What message are you giving him? That love isn’t worth taking a risk for?’

Engulfed by a tide of guilt and anxiety, Liv stared at her. ‘You think I’m putting Max off relationships?’

‘No, but I think you’re so afraid of being hurt you just won’t even give it a try, which is ridiculous because you’re incredibly pretty and you have huge—’

‘Anna!’

‘Sorry. I just don’t think you have any idea how gorgeous you are. Do you know what the men call you behind your back? Luscious Liv.’

‘That’s because they only ever see me with my clothes on. If they saw me naked, they’d be calling me Lumpy Liv.’

‘You’re ridiculous, do you know that? You have a fabulous figure.’ Anna leaned forward and gave her a swift hug, her voice husky. ‘I don’t mean to nag or upset you but you’re my best friend and I want you to meet someone nice. You deserve to meet someone nice. I wish I could buy you a night of hot sex for Christmas.’

‘I don’t want pity sex. I’d rather have bubble bath! It would be less embarrassing.’ But Liv hugged her back, allowing herself an indulgent moment of female solidarity.

‘Am I interrupting something?’ A deep male voice came from behind them and Anna gave a strangled gasp and jumped back, her face scarlet.

‘Mr Lucarelli! I mean—Stefano—’ She cleared her throat, acting more like a student nurse than a senior sister with years of experience. ‘We were just—we were…’ Too embarrassed to speak coherently, she waved a hand helplessly and Liv sighed and took over.

‘We were hugging,’ she said calmly, desperately hoping that he hadn’t overheard the conversation. ‘Did you need something?’

Dark, challenging eyes settled on her face and Liv wished she hadn’t drawn attention to herself.

Forcing herself to meet his gaze calmly, she tried not to notice his glossy black hair, his superb bone structure or the sensual curve of his mouth. He was indecently, impossibly handsome and Liv wondered idly how many female hearts he’d broken since he’d reached adolescence. They could probably be laid end to end across Europe. From the width of his shoulders to the blue-shadowed jaw, he epitomised all that it meant to be masculine.

He stood at least six feet two and the blue scrub suit encased a body that was hard and powerful. ‘I came to tell you that we have transferred the patient to ICU,’ he said in a cool tone. ‘And I wanted to talk to you about Rachel.’

Anna immediately snapped back into her role as Sister. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Sì, there is a problem,’ he said impatiently, his eyes still on Liv. ‘I don’t want her working with me in Resus again.’

Anna frowned. ‘She’s a very good nurse and—’

‘She can work with the others, but not me. She’s nervous of me…’ angling his arrogant dark head, he transferred the full force of his gaze to Anna ‘…and her nerves make her dangerous. Her hands were shaking, she dropped sterile instruments and every time I spoke to her, she jumped.’

Anna sighed. ‘She’s very young. You probably scared her.’

Bold brows came together in a frown. ‘I didn’t once raise my voice.’

‘You don’t need to. You’re—’ Anna broke off, clearly searching for a way to say what she wanted to say in the most tactful way. ‘You’re the senior consultant and obviously some of the more junior staff might find you…intimidating.’

‘Then find me someone who isn’t intimidated.’ His voice was hard and tightly controlled. ‘When I’m in Resus I don’t want to have to be thinking about anyone other than the patient. I want the equipment in my hand, not on the floor and I expect the team around me to be completely focused and to anticipate everything.’

Anna’s mouth tightened. ‘So basically you want the people you work with to be able to read your mind.’

A sardonic smile touched his firm, male mouth. ‘Precisely. That skill is essential to the smooth running of any emergency department. And now that we’ve cleared that up I’ll leave you to your…’ his gaze swept them both ‘…hug.’

Anna watched as he strolled back down the corridor towards his office. ‘Great. Now he thinks we’re lesbians.’

Liv let out a breath. ‘Please tell me he wasn’t standing there when you were talking about the size of my boobs and when I last had sex. Do you think he heard you saying that you wanted to buy me a night of hot sex for Christmas?’

‘I’m not sure. Possibly.’ Anna covered her mouth with her hand to smother the laughter and Liv gave a groan.

‘OK, that’s it. I resign. But only after I’ve killed you. I won’t be able to look him in the face again.’

‘I can’t stop looking him in the face. I’m probably worse than Rachel. And you can’t resign. You need the money. But remind me not to hug you in public again.’ Anna frowned. ‘Now he’ll think I’m unavailable.’

‘You are unavailable! You’re happily married.’

‘I know, but don’t you just look at the man and think “sex”?’

‘I look at him and think “trouble”.’ Liv pinned the keys into her pocket, trying to erase a disturbing image of shimmering dark eyes and bold male arrogance.

‘I wouldn’t mind getting into trouble with him. He certainly isn’t afraid to speak his mind.’

‘He has high standards,’ Liv said firmly, ‘and that’s a good thing. He just won’t accept anything less than the best and I like that. If I were to crash my car, he’s the one I’d want treating me.’

‘Now that is a terrifying thought.’ Anna’s expression was comical. ‘Imagine, all your colleagues would see your underwear. Just for the record, if I’m ever brought in here and you have to cut my clothes from my body, I want you to make sure I’m wearing silk designer knickers and not chain-store cotton.’

‘I think if you’d reached the point of needing to have your clothes cut off, the label on your knickers is going to be the least of your problems. Do you want me to check before or after I save your life?’

‘You can joke, but I just know that Stefano Lucarelli dates women who wear matching silk underwear.’

‘That doesn’t mean he expects the same high standards from his patients,’ Liv said dryly. ‘Now, are you going to talk to Rachel or am I? His comment is justified, by the way. She’s dreamy and needs to sharpen up.’

‘Poor Rachel. He obviously chewed her up and spat her out. I’d better go and give her some sympathy.’

‘She doesn’t need sympathy, she needs a wake-up call,’ Liv said briskly. ‘She developed a crush on our Italian consultant from the moment he drove his Ferrari into the car park. If she stopped staring at him and concentrated on her work, she wouldn’t drop things.’

‘He is a little scary.’

‘He is clever and efficient.’

‘I’m glad you think so. Given that you respect him so much and you’re indifferent to his charms, you can work with him in Resus so that solves one problem. Now, what was our other problem? Oh yes, what to do with your tickets to the Snowflake Ball.’

‘I’m selling them. I have no man, no dress, no babysitter and no inclination to go to the ball. Nor do I have stepsisters, ugly or otherwise.’

‘Invite Stefano Lucarelli.’

‘Oh please! If I want public humiliation, I’ll just strip naked. I have no intention of embarrassing both of us by issuing an invitation he will certainly reject.’

‘He might not. He was looking at you.’

‘He was probably wondering why someone with hips like mine hasn’t gone on a diet.’

‘You don’t need to diet!’ Anna looked at her thoughtfully. ‘He noticed you, Liv.’

‘Anna, he walked in while we were hugging and talking about sex,’ Liv reminded her wearily. ‘Of course he noticed me. It probably classes as one of the most embarrassing moments of my career.’

Anna ignored her. ‘He’s single at the moment, can you believe that? I don’t get it. I mean, he’s super-wealthy. His family owns some enormous construction business in Italy. There’s no justice in the world, is there? Rich and good-looking is very unfair.’

‘Anna, you’re a married woman with two children.’

Anna ignored that, too. ‘Apparently he was dating some glossy Italian actress but rumour has it that he ditched her because she was insisting on moving in with him. He’s only been in the country for a month. He might be glad of a night out before Christmas.’

‘He certainly strikes me as a man who needs help finding women.’ Her tone sarcastic, Liv lifted a hand. ‘Enough. End of subject. Do you and Dave want the tickets, or do I sell them?’

Rachel appeared in the doorway, her face pale. ‘Ambulance Control just called and they’re bringing in a man who was kicked on the rugby field. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not work in Resus again today.’ Her voice was high-pitched and decidedly wobbly. ‘Dr Lucarelli was a bit…sharp.’

Anna straightened. ‘Injuries?’

Rachel looked at her blankly. ‘None. Except my pride, I suppose. I mean he was really—’

‘The patient,’ Anna interrupted her wearily. ‘What are the patient’s injuries, Rachel? And it’s Mr Lucarelli, not “Dr”. He’s a trained surgeon. Surgeons are “Mr”, remember?’

‘Oh. Right.’ Rachel cleared her throat. ‘That patient was kicked.’

‘Yes, but where?’

‘He has breathing problems,’ Rachel said vaguely and Liv gritted her teeth and handed Anna the keys to the drug cupboard.

‘I’ll take this one. Call the trauma team and ask Mr Lucarelli to come to Resus.’

‘I’ll send Sue to help you,’ Anna muttered. ‘Rachel, you and I need to have a chat.’

Leaving Anna to deal with the hapless Rachel, Liv pushed open the doors that led to the high-tech resuscitation room.

Always prepared for an emergency, the room was kept stocked and ready for patients and Liv was pulling on an apron and a pair of gloves when Stefano Lucarelli strode into the room.

He looked straight at her and for one brief, disturbing moment, neither of them spoke.

For sheer raw impact, she’d never met a man like him. Neither had she ever experienced the blaze of sexual awareness that suddenly flooded her body.

Mortified, she turned away quickly, her heart pounding and her face scarlet, just furious with herself for being so predictable. The man must be so tired of women staring at him. It was just that stupid conversation with Anna, she told herself crossly, pulling open a cupboard and removing the sterile pack she thought they might need.

Talking about sex had made her think about sex, and thinking about sex had made her—

Oh for crying out loud!

‘Apparently the paramedics reported that the patient has some respiratory problems,’ she said crisply, keeping her head in the cupboard for slightly longer than was necessary to give the colour in her cheeks time to fade, ‘so I thought it might be wise to have a thoracotomy pack ready.’

‘Good.’ But there was a sharp edge to his voice that made her wonder whether she was about to become another casualty of his legendary high standards.

The doors to Resus flew open and the patient arrived along with the rest of the trauma team.

Swiftly and smoothly they transferred the patient onto the trolley and Stefano Lucarelli took charge, demanding silence from the entire team with a single sweeping glance.

He had presence, Liv admitted to herself, as each person around the trolley quietly busied themselves with their allotted tasks, while listening to the paramedic’s handover. He was confident, but he didn’t swagger like Greg Hampton, one of the more junior doctors. But neither was he as approachable like Phil, the other casualty officer who was currently looking for a vein in the patient’s arm.

Working on automatic, Liv attached BP, cardiac and oximetry monitors to the patient and the paramedic collected his own equipment and left the room.

Stefano glanced at the monitor, a frown on his handsome face as he swiftly assessed the readings. ‘Phil, put in two lines and send blood for immediate cross-matching. I want all clothes covering the front and sides of the chest removed.’ He had an unmistakable air of authority that communicated itself to all the staff in the room and Liv cut through the man’s clothing and reached for warm blankets to prevent him developing hypothermia.

‘His respiratory rate is thirty-eight and it’s very shallow.’

‘He’s in respiratory distress.’ Stefano examined the man’s chest and Liv noticed that Phil was watching out of the corner of his eye. Although he’d only been working in the emergency department for a few months, Phil soaked up information and never missed an opportunity to learn.

And there would be plenty to learn from Stefano, Liv thought, watching the way he examined the patient.

‘There’s a great deal of bruising,’ she murmured, looking at the purplish marks on the man’s ribs and Stefano looped the stethoscope round his neck.

‘He has diminished breath sounds and decreased chest expansion.’ Working with a cool, calm sense of purpose, he finished examining the man’s chest. ‘He has a clinically significant haemothorax. Call the trauma surgeon and ring the operating theatre co-ordinator and warn them. He might need a thoracotomy to drain it. Let’s do a chest X-ray.’

The radiographer responded immediately. Like a carefully choreographed ballet, everyone worked simultaneously, carrying out his or her own clearly delineated roles.

‘I need a hand here, Liv.’ Phil was struggling to find a vein and Liv stepped forward to help. The more junior doctor slid the cannula into the vein and breathed an audible sigh of relief. ‘OK, I’m in. Let’s tape this, before we lose it.’ Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead and his gaze flickered to Stefano. ‘Wouldn’t he have distension of the neck veins or raised jugular venous pressure if he had a haemothorax?’

‘He’s hypovolaemic.’ Stefano’s eyes stayed on the monitor. ‘If you look closely at the patient, you’ll see that there is a degree of tracheal deviation. Do we have two lines in, yet?’

‘One. I’m just sending blood for cross-matching.’

‘Get that second line in now. I need two lines before I put in a chest drain.’

Phil handed the bottle to Liv and then turned back to the patient to deal with the second IV.

‘His veins are terrible,’ he muttered after a few minutes. ‘The first one was fine, but I’ve failed twice so far on this side. Do you want to have a go?’

Stefano stepped towards him. ‘Turn his arm over. Bene. Cannula.’ He held out a lean, strong hand and Liv passed him the equipment he needed, watching in silent admiration as the consultant slid the needle into the vein with no apparent effort.

He made the seemingly impossible look easy, she thought wistfully and clearly Phil thought the same thing because he shot her a rueful glance.

‘The X-ray is up,’ the radiographer said and they all turned to study the screen.

‘There’s no visible fluid level,’ Phil murmured and Stefano’s eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed intently on the screen.

‘Because with the patient in the supine position the blood collects under the affected lung. If you look, you can see blurring of the hemidiaphragm contour. I’m ready to put in the chest drain.’ He turned towards her. ‘Liv?’

He knew her name?

Liv taped the cannula to make sure they didn’t lose the second line. Did he also know that she hadn’t had sex for four years? ‘Sue will assist you with the drain.’ Her hands occupied, she glanced towards her colleague. ‘There’s a sterile pack behind you. I got it out earlier.’ Then she turned back to Phil. ‘That blood needs to be given through the rapid infuser,’ she reminded him. ‘It needs to be warmed.’

‘Sue can help Phil. I want you to assist me.’ The sudden bite in his tone left no room for argument so Liv simply stepped aside so that Sue could take her place, quietly instructed her to call the operating theatre and the trauma consultant and then opened the sterile pack herself.

Suddenly she found that her hands were shaking and she shook her head, exasperated with herself. All right, so he’d already demolished Rachel—he obviously had high standards, but so did she! She had no reason to be nervous.

Working quickly, Liv opened the cannula that she knew he’d need, but he was already one step ahead, his movements so swift that it required all her concentration to keep up.

For a terrifying moment she almost lost her nerve. She’d never worked with anyone quite as talented as him before and the sheer speed and skill of his fingers left her dragging behind. Fortunately her own natural ability asserted itself.

Don’t think about him, she told herself firmly. Think about the job.

She kept her gaze fixed on those long, bronzed fingers, every nerve and muscle in her body tense as she focused on what he was doing.

Not once did he hesitate or pause. His fingers were precise and steady as he cleaned the skin, injected local anaesthetic and then aspirated the syringe to confirm the presence of blood.

It was no wonder he demanded the best from those around him, Liv thought as she handed him the scalpel and watched him incise the skin down to the rib with astonishing speed and precision. He was a master, and it was obvious that he wasn’t satisfied with anything less than accuracy.

His handsome face blank of expression, he slid a gloved finger into the pleural cavity, checking the position of the incision. ‘I’ll want a 36F tube. Have it ready.’

‘Roberts forceps.’ Without being asked, Liv handed him the instrument she knew he’d need next and watched as he slid the drain into position through the track he’d made. Then he attached the tube to an underwater seal drainage system.

‘That’s a large tube he’s used,’ Phil muttered and Liv glanced at him briefly.

‘It has to be of sufficient calibre to drain the haemothorax without clotting. And if the haemothorax doesn’t drain, there’s a risk of infection.’ Her attention back on Stefano, she reached for the suture. ‘Zero gauge suture.’ She held it out to him and he took it immediately, their movements smooth and synchronised even though they’d never worked together in Resus before.

He inserted a purse-string suture to secure the drain and then glanced at the monitors again.

‘I want another chest X-ray so that I can check the position of the drain.’

The radiographer hurried over and as they shifted the patient and took the X-ray, Phil glanced at the drain.

‘He’s losing a lot of blood. Should we clamp the tube?’

Stefano shook his head. ‘Clamping the tube has no effect on the amount of haemorrhage—the blood just collects in the chest and further compromises respiratory function.’

‘Mr Lucarelli? The X-ray is up on the screen,’ the radiographer said and Liv glanced up as the door suddenly opened and Anna walked into the room.

‘His wife’s arrived. I’ve put her in the relatives’ room,’ she said. ‘Can someone find a moment to talk to her?’

Liv glanced towards Stefano Lucarelli but the consultant was staring at the X-ray, his handsome face unsmiling and his concentration absolute. He’s young, she thought, looking at his masculine profile and dark glossy hair. Young to be in such a responsible position. His strong legs were planted firmly apart, the thin cotton of the scrub suit skimming wide, muscular shoulders, his dark head tilted slightly as he studied the screen. He was staggeringly good-looking, confident and very much in control.

Realising that she was staring, Liv looked away quickly and caught Anna’s speculative glance.

Her friend gave her a wide smile. ‘I can see everything is going well in here.’

Liv glared at her. ‘We’ll talk to his wife in a minute, Anna.’

Stefano turned. ‘We’re waiting for the trauma surgeon. When the patient is stable and they’ve decided on the next step, I’ll talk to his wife.’

Phil studied the drain again. ‘He’s drained 1000 mils.’

‘The initial volume of blood drained is not as important as ongoing bleeding.’ Stefano looked up as the trauma surgeon strode into the room.

The two men conferred although Liv could see that the entire conversation was driven by Stefano Lucarelli.

Clearly his reputation was as formidable as his clinical skills because the senior trauma surgeon seemed only too happy to listen to his advice.

‘I don’t want to perform a thoracotomy unnecessarily.’

‘I’ve used a large enough tube and it’s positioned well.’ Stefano glanced at the drain as if daring it to misbehave. ‘It will drain the haemothorax. Admit him for observation, monitor the drainage output over the next four to five hours. If he loses more than 200 to 250 mils of blood per hour, take him to Theatre. I’m going to talk to his wife. Liv, come with me.’

Liv blinked. ‘I— Yes, of course.’

She was about to make a mild comment about his dictatorial style when he looked at her, his gaze frank and direct. ‘You’re an excellent nurse. When I’m in Resus, I want you with me.’

‘Oh…’ The compliment was so unexpected that hot colour flooded her cheeks but she was saved the bother of replying because they’d reached the door of the relatives’ room.

Without pausing, Stefano opened the door and strode into the room, leaving Liv to follow. She closed the door behind her, braced for him to open his mouth, put his foot in it and then walk out leaving the patient’s relative distraught, a scenario she’d witnessed on all too many occasions with other doctors.

But instead of fumbling for words and making the quickest possible exit, he walked across to the patient’s wife and sat down next to her. ‘I am Stefano Lucarelli, the consultant. I’ve been looking after your husband.’ He held out his hand and the woman shook it and gave a wobbly smile.

‘I’m Helen Myers.’

‘This has been a shock for you, I know.’ He spoke in a deep, velvety voice that held equal amounts of confidence and sympathy. ‘I am sorry I couldn’t speak to you earlier, but your husband was my priority.’

‘Of course—I understand.’ The woman was white with shock, her eyes pink from crying. ‘Is he—is he going to be all right?’

‘He was kicked in the ribs and that kick has damaged his lung.’ In simple, easy-to-understand terms, Stefano gave her the facts, explaining what had happened and the treatment he’d given so far. He kept it short and non-technical. ‘Tim has been transferred to Intensive Care. They are going to monitor him and, if necessary, they will take him to Theatre and drain the blood clot.’

Tim? Liv blinked. She hadn’t realised that he even knew the patient’s name.

‘Oh God, I can’t believe this is happening. I saw him at lunchtime and we were making plans for Christmas. We were going to take our two girls to Lapland to see Santa Claus.’ The woman sat still for a moment and then her face crumpled and she started to cry. ‘I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, it’s just that it’s such a shock.’

Reaching for a box of tissues, Liv sat down on the other side of the woman and waited for Stefano to leave so that she could offer whatever comfort she could. But instead of leaving the room as fast as possible as most of his colleagues would have done, Stefano leaned across and took a tissue from the box.

‘Don’t apologise. It is hard for you, I know. Here.’ He handed the woman the tissue. ‘You mentioned that you have daughters? So who is looking after them now?’

‘My mother.’ Helen blew her nose hard. ‘I called her as soon as I got the news. I didn’t want to bring the children here. I’m sorry. You don’t want to listen to this. I know how busy you must be. You have much more important things to do than talk to me.’

‘At the moment, talking to you is the most important thing,’ Stefano said calmly, his gaze not shifting from her face. ‘Is there anything else you want to ask me?’

Helen gave a choked laugh. ‘I want to ask you if he’s going to be all right, but you can’t tell me that, can you?’

‘Not at this stage,’ Stefano said honestly. ‘The consultant in Intensive Care will be able to give you a better idea in a few hours.’

He was good, Liv thought to herself. Really, really good. He was honest, didn’t give false hope and didn’t try and escape from the emotions in front of him. And despite the workload pressing down on him, he seemed to really care.

‘Liv will stay with you for a few minutes,’ Stefano said, ‘and then she will ring ICU.’

Liv gave an inward smile. He was also controlling. ‘Once they have him settled, I’ll take you up there,’ she assured Helen and the woman blew her nose again.

‘Thanks. You’ve been incredibly kind, both of you.’ Tucking her handkerchief up her sleeve, she tried to smile. ‘Men. Why must they play these dangerous sports?’

Stefano rose to his feet, a sardonic smile touching his mouth. ‘We are incomprehensible, no? Blame it on testosterone.’ Suddenly he sounded very Italian and Liv felt her insides tingle.

She found herself wondering if some glamorous, skinny woman was at that moment lying naked in his enormous bed, waiting for his return.

Horrified by the direction of her thoughts, she rose to her feet. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea, Helen,’ she said quickly. ‘And then I’ll find out what’s happening in ICU.’ And while she was at it, she was going to bang her head against the wall a few times to try and reprogramme her thoughts back to the place they’d been before the conversation with Anna.

Why on earth was she envying a woman she hadn’t even met for having something that she didn’t even want?

She was definitely losing her grip.

CHAPTER TWO

‘MUMMY, can we have a really big Christmas tree this year? Up to the roof?’

‘Absolutely.’ Liv tried not to dwell on just how much ‘really big’ was going to cost. Maybe if she waited until Christmas Eve she could negotiate a bargain. ‘How was school today?’

‘Fine. I want to get our tree at the weekend.’ Max scrambled onto a chair and spread his toy dinosaurs over the kitchen table. ‘Then we can enjoy it for ages and ages.’

‘It’s only December the first. ‘If we buy it on Saturday it will have no needles by Christmas.’

‘If we don’t buy our tree till Christmas Eve we won’t have time to have fun with it. Sam is getting his tree next weekend. Can we? Please?’ Max looked up at her hopefully and Liv felt something shift inside her.

‘We’ll see,’ she said gruffly, promising herself that she’d sit down with a pen and paper once he was asleep and take a serious look at her budget. ‘I love you. Have I told you that, lately?’

‘Every day. You’re always telling me that.’

‘Are you complaining?’

‘Nope.’ Max picked up a plastic tyrannosaurus. ‘I love you, too. It snowed again today, but not much. I want there to be piles and piles. Wouldn’t that be great?’

Seeing the sparkle in her son’s eyes, Liv forgot about the havoc that snow always caused. ‘Fantastic.’

‘Ben broke his leg yesterday.’ Lower lip between his teeth, Max crashed the tyrannosaurus into a less superior species and sent it flying. ‘He went to the hospital and they gave him crotches.’

Liv hid a smile. ‘Crutches,’ she said, spreading creamy butter onto crusty bread, ‘it’s crutches.’

‘That’s what I said. I told him my mum works in the hospital, but he said he didn’t see you there. You won’t work on Christmas Day, will you?’

Liv felt her heart flip. Every year she faced this dilemma. The money was good and in her situation that was incredibly tempting, but working Christmas meant not being with Max.

‘I’m not working,’ she said firmly, putting the plate on the table next to Max. It didn’t matter how tight her finances were, nothing would make up for not spending Christmas Day with her son. ‘I’ve saved up my holiday. I have a whole week off. I might work on New Year’s Eve, but not until you’re in bed.’

‘So I’ll do a sleepover with Sam?’

‘Maybe. I’ll have to speak to Anna.’ Liv filled the kettle, wondering what she’d do if her friend and colleague hadn’t had a child the same age as hers.

‘Cool. I love sleeping over with Sam.’ He looked at her, his eyes sparkling. ‘Do you know what the best thing is about his house?’

No, but she could guess. Liv’s heart plummeted as she thought of Sam’s house, with its five large bedrooms, three bathrooms and huge garden. Then her eyes scanned the tiny living room of her cramped flat. If she stood in the middle, she could almost touch all four walls. And although she had two bedrooms, one of them was so small it would barely accommodate a single bed. And when the train went past the entire flat shook…

Aware that Max was looking at her, she braced herself. ‘So what’s the best thing about Sam’s house?’

‘Their guinea pig. It’s called Rambo and it’s so cute.’

Liv laughed and then impulsively she bent down and kissed her son, the son who had noticed the guinea pig instead of the huge bedrooms or the soft white sofas and wall-to-wall luxury.

‘You’re a nice person,’ she said gruffly, but her eyes were drawn to the patch of damp on the wall. She’d painted over it repeatedly but it always came through again and now that the weather had turned cold…

Suddenly she wished she could wave a magic wand and make the world perfect for her son. Why was it that no one told you that parenthood came with non-stop guilt and anxiety? Especially single parenthood.

Telling herself that she was doing all right, Liv watched as her son played a make-believe game with his toys. He was bright, happy and well adjusted. She worried too much.

Everything was fine.

Max lifted his head and looked at her wistfully. ‘And Sam’s dad’s buying him a goal for Christmas so he can practise. You should see it, Mum. It’s just awesome. It’s huge, with a big white net—I’ve seen the picture. Could we have a goal?’

‘Not in a fourth-floor flat,’ Liv said dryly, squashing down the guilt that swamped her once again. He was a little boy. He needed a garden. Somewhere he could kick a ball when she was too tired to take him to the park.

‘If we had loads of money, would we buy a house? I heard you telling Anna that if you had a bathroom like hers, you’d lie in it all day. Why don’t you lie in ours all day?’

Because of the chipped tiles, the draught from the window and the stubborn black mould that refused to die. ‘Because I have to work. I’ve explained that to you. I work to make the money we need.’ Liv lifted an onion out of the vegetable basket. ‘Now, enough of this conversation. If I don’t get on with the supper it will be bedtime.’

The tyrannosaurus attacked again, scattering other dinosaurs over the kitchen floor. ‘You could do the lottery or something.’

‘It’s a waste of money. We wouldn’t win.’

‘You could get married. Emma’s mum got married again and now they’re really rich because her new dad is loaded!’

Liv gasped. ‘Where did you hear that expression?’

‘Emma told me.’ Max stopped playing and looked at her anxiously. ‘Is it swearing?’

‘No, but it’s not very polite.’ Her mind slid back to the conversation she’d had with Anna earlier that day and she frowned, pushing away thoughts of Stefano Lucarelli. ‘And it isn’t how much money someone has that counts, it’s whether you like them or not that matters.’

‘Well, Emma’s mum has been married twice now, and you’ve only been married once.’

‘It isn’t a competition, sweetheart.’

‘Why did you stop being married?’

Liv closed her eyes briefly. Why did the hardest questions always come when she was tired? ‘We’ve talked about this before, Max.’ She peeled the onion. ‘Sometimes these things just don’t work out. And when that happens, it’s no one’s fault.’ Yes it was. It was her fault. She hadn’t been exciting enough for Jack. Her eyes suddenly started pricking and she told herself it was just the onion.

‘You should definitely try being married again,’ Max said sagely. ‘You’re always telling me I have to keep trying things. You always say you can’t tell if you like something if you’ve only tried it once.’

‘That’s food,’ Liv said dryly, reaching for a chopping board. ‘Marriage isn’t like broccoli. Marriage is a very big thing. You have to really, really love someone to do that. And they have to love you, too. They have to think you’re special.’

‘You are special, Mum.’ Max looked at her, his eyes huge. ‘I don’t know any other girls who love football and cars and no one makes pizza like you do. All my friends think you’re cool.’

‘Well, maybe I am cool to a bunch of seven-year-olds.’ But bigger boys wanted something very different. They wanted someone sexy and she was—

Ordinary.

Liv stood for a moment, distracted by her own thoughts. Across the road she could see lights from the other flats and in one window she could see a man and a woman sitting down to eat with two lively, excited children.

Then she glanced at Max. Her little boy, his face a mask of concentration as he lined up his dinosaurs. She paused for a moment, swamped by a feeling of such intense love and anxiety that she almost couldn’t breathe.

He deserved so much more. He deserved a loving father who would kick a football with him.

Damn Jack. Damn Jack and his slick, womanising ways.

She put the onion on the chopping board and stabbed the knife through it.

Why should Max suffer because his father hadn’t been adult enough to face up to his responsibilities?

‘Mummy, you’re chopping that onion like you hate it or something.’

Liv’s gaze slid from the blade in her hand to the minute slices of onion that now lay on the chopping board. Pulverised. She gave a weak smile. ‘I’m making supper.’ There was no point in regretting the past. ‘We can play football together this weekend, if you like.’

‘Cool. I’ve been picked for the match on Friday. I was a reserve but now Ben can’t play so I’m in the team.’

Liv’s face lit up. ‘That’s fantastic! Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘It’s only the second team, not the first.’ He looked at her and his little shoulders lifted in a tiny shrug. ‘And I knew you wouldn’t be able to come. You’ll be working.’

Liv swallowed. ‘Max—’

‘It’s OK,’ he said firmly. ‘It isn’t your fault. We’re a team, isn’t that what you always say? You go to work, I go to school.’

‘Actually I’m not working on Friday,’ Liv said brightly. ‘I—I have the afternoon off.’

‘Really?’

No. ‘Yes.’ Somehow, whatever it took, she was going to make it happen. She was going to her son’s football match. ‘What time is kick-off?’

‘Two o’clock.’

‘I’ll be there.’ How, she didn’t know. But she was going to be standing on that school field even if it meant changing her job.

Exhaustion washed over her making her head foggy. As usual her day had started before five and one glance at the washing, ironing and the pile of Max’s toys in the living room was enough to tell her that she wouldn’t be in bed before midnight.

She envied mothers who could be at home for their children. Yes, she loved her work but the constant pressure of trying to be in two places at once was grinding her down.

Welcome to single parenthood.

Max scrambled off the chair and hugged her tightly, his arms round her legs, his head pressed against her stomach. ‘You’re the best mum in the world. I know it’s hard for you because you have to work. That would be one of the good things about having a dad. He could do the work bit and you could just come and watch me.’

Liv felt a lump in her throat. ‘There’s more to being a dad than signing cheques, Max.’ And some men didn’t even manage that bit, she thought wearily as she bent to kiss the top of his head. He smelled of shampoo. ‘Spaghetti bolognese all right for supper?’

‘Yum.’

Dismissing fantasies of herself standing on the school field, while someone else worried about the family finances, Liv squashed down the guilt, gave him a quick kiss and released him. Reality, she reminded herself. That was what she had to concentrate on. ‘So what was the funniest thing that happened to you today?’ Taking the lid off a can of tomatoes, she emptied it into the pan. ‘Make me laugh.’

‘Sam told me a great joke.’

‘Go on.’

‘What’s the best thing to give a seasick elephant?’

‘I don’t know. What is the best thing to give a seasick elephant?’

‘Plenty of room.’

‘Max!’

The following morning brought a flutter of snow and a sharp drop in the temperature.

‘Isabella? Tutto bene?’ Stefano brought the Ferrari to a smooth halt, his attention on the phone call. Snow dusted the pavements and the roads were slick with ice. It was going to be a busy day in the emergency department and he knew this would be his only chance to make this call. ‘You called me?’

‘Every day for the past two weeks!’ His sister exploded into Italian. ‘Where have you been? You don’t call—you don’t come home! Have you forgotten your family? Don’t we matter to you any more? You don’t have a heart, Stefano!’

‘That’s the sort of comment I expect from my girlfriend, not my little sister.’ Stefano sprang from the car, his long, black, cashmere coat swirling around his strong legs as he strode across the consultants’ car park. Knowing exactly which buttons to press to annoy her, he smiled wickedly. ‘Why are you at home? You should be taking your children to school.’

Ever predictable, Isabella bristled with indignation. ‘I dropped them at school and now I’m on the way to the office. Remember the family business, Stefano? The business you turned your back on? Well I am here, keeping our father happy while you stroke your ego by playing doctors and dating actresses with bodies as thin as spaghetti and brains as soft as ravioli.’

Already bored with the conversation, Stefano pushed his way through the swing doors that led to the emergency department. ‘Are you ringing me to nag me about my choice of career or my choice of women?’

‘I’m ringing you because despite your many faults, you’re still my brother and like all men you need reminding about family responsibility. When did you last call Papa?’

Stefano strode along the corridor, oblivious to the sideways glances he received from the female nurses. ‘I don’t have any news.’

‘News? What is “news”?’ Isabella didn’t bother hiding her exasperation. ‘He just wants to hear your voice, Stefano!’

‘Talking about nothing because you enjoy the sound of your own voice is more of a girl thing than a man thing,’ Stefano drawled. ‘And I’ve been busy. I’m working.’

‘Well, find the time to call. And make sure you come home for Christmas. We’ll all be in Cortina from the twenty-third of December.’

Stefano was well able to picture the scene: a noisy group of family and old friends descending on the enormous family chalet in the exclusive mountain resort of Cortina D’Ampezzo, in the Italian Dolomites.

‘Isabella—’

‘I know you’re busy, but this is family time, Stefano. Be there.’

‘I will be there, but I don’t know when or for how long.’ Or how much of his well-meaning, interfering family he’d be able to stand.

‘All the cousins will be there—’ it was Isabella’s turn to tease ‘—including the lovely Donatella. She’s still single, Stefano.’

‘Fortunately for both of us, my taste in women doesn’t run to children,’ Stefano said wryly and Isabella giggled.

‘She’s twenty-one, Stefano, hardly a child. And she’s been trying to remind you of that fact for a few years now. Surely you haven’t forgotten last Christmas? The push-up bra and the low-cut top? I thought Papa was going to have a stroke. Anyway, she wants to sit by you for Christmas Eve dinner.’

‘Donatella finds me so intimidating that she can barely speak in my company,’ Stefano reminded her in an acid tone. ‘If you throw her in my way at Christmas it would be cruel to both of us. Isabella, drop this subject.’

‘She’d be a traditional Italian wife, Stefano.’ Isabella was clearly enjoying herself. ‘She would stay at home and cook you pasta.’

‘Unfortunately for Donatella one of my requirements in a life partner is that they’re able to sustain an intelligent conversation for at least eight seconds. Sadly, she can’t. Or at least, she can’t when she’s with me.’

Isabella snorted with laughter. ‘You’re so harsh. Frankly I can’t see why she’s so crazy about you. I mean, I know you’re filthy rich and good-looking but you’re unbearable to people who aren’t as bright as you are and when you’re really bored, which usually takes far less than eight seconds by the way, you can be horribly cutting.’

Taken aback by that blunt assessment of his attributes, Stefano was about to answer when his sister made an impatient sound.

‘Anyway, it’s nonsense to say you need a woman with a brain. According to that actress of yours, you don’t waste any time talking to women.’

Stefano glanced at his watch. ‘I’m a busy man, Isabella. Was there something else you wanted to say?’

‘She gave such an embarrassing interview to all the papers. What did you ever see in her? No—don’t answer that, it’s obvious. Why are men so shallow?’

Stefano gave a deadly smile. ‘Because women wear pushup bras and we are easily distracted,’ he purred. ‘I’m so pleased you called me. Your conversation is always so…intellectual.’

‘Don’t try and intimidate me.’ But Isabella was laughing. ‘I rang you for a chat because I love you, even though you sometimes forget that you have a family and you’re basically horrible. I’ll see you at Christmas, Stefano. I’m sure Donatella is already choosing her dress.’

Stefano closed his eyes briefly. ‘Maledizione—’

‘Don’t swear in front of your sister!’

There was a sharp rap on the door and Stefano looked up with a frown, irritated by the interruption. Greg Hampton, one of the casualty officers, stood in the doorway and Stefano’s mouth tightened. Unlike Phil who had managed to impress him, this particular junior doctor’s attitude was far too casual for his liking. ‘I’ve got to go. Ciao.’ He terminated the call and dropped his phone into his pocket. ‘Sì? There is a problem?’

‘Can you check an X-ray for me before you get dragged into Resus? Everyone else is still tied up with the RTA that came in an hour ago.’

Stefano slung his coat over the back of the chair, ignored the mound of paperwork on his desk and strode towards the door. ‘Who is the patient?’

‘That’s the bad news.’ Greg pulled a face. ‘A screaming, uncooperative kid with a bruised finger. I sent her for an X-ray.’

Stefano dealt him a measuring glance, less than impressed by the younger doctor’s dismissive tone.

They arrived at the main area and Stefano automatically glanced at the computer screen on the wall. It listed every patient in the department and enabled the staff to track their progress. That one glance was enough to tell him that he was in for a busy morning despite the fact it was barely light.

His mind still half on the conversation with his sister, his gaze shifted to the smaller computer next to the screen that was displaying an X-ray of a finger. He hit a button, zoomed in closer and stared at the image. Why did his family see the need to interfere with his life? If it wasn’t his love life, it was his profession. ‘No fracture. How was the finger on examination?’

Greg shrugged. ‘I haven’t examined her yet.’

‘You sent her for X-ray without examination?’ Stefano transferred his gaze from the X-ray to the doctor and Greg frowned slightly.

‘The child was really difficult. Didn’t seem to want to be distracted by anything. Trust me—no one could have done anything with this kid, and as for the mother…’ with an exaggerated shudder, he picked up the notes ‘…she was your average nightmare. Reminded me why I didn’t do paediatrics. Caring for kids is all about the mothers, isn’t it? What’s the point of seven years’ training if I have to waste my skills on a load of hysterical women?’

‘What skills?’ Stefano spoke softly and Greg’s smile lost a fraction of its arrogance.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You told me that you don’t want to waste your skills,’ Stefano said silkily, ‘but I am still waiting to see a demonstration of these skills in which you have so much pride and which you seem so reluctant to waste in my department, Dr Hampton. They weren’t in evidence when you needed to examine the child.’

Greg cleared his throat. ‘I didn’t manage to examine the child.’

‘Precisely.’ Stefano watched with cold detachment as the less experienced doctor flushed to the roots of his hair, suddenly a great deal less sure of himself.

‘The kid was freaking out.’

‘Then it is your job to “un”-freak them,’ Stefano advised helpfully. ‘After all, what is the point of seven years of training if you cannot get close enough to your patient to carry out an examination?’

‘I ordered an X-ray,’ Greg said stiffly, and Stefano raised an eyebrow.

‘So you sent her to X-Ray with no examination and you were planning to discharge her without examination? You have good medical defence insurance, I hope? A skilled lawyer? Because if that is the way you practise medicine, you will need both.’

Greg’s face was scarlet. ‘I assumed that the X-ray would tell me what I needed to know.’

‘An X-ray is simply one part of the overall picture. Never again even consider discharging a patient without carrying out the appropriate examination. You are a doctor, not a car mechanic. The decisions you make affect people’s lives.’ Stefano let the doctor squirm for a few more moments and then he flicked off the X-ray.

‘Mr Lucarelli—’

‘One more thing.’ Stefano’s icy tone cut through the doctor’s feeble attempt to redeem himself. ‘In this department, if a mother tells you that she has a bad feeling about her child, you will listen to what she has to say with both ears open and your mouth closed. Understood?’

Greg stared at him. ‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ Stefano watched him with cool appraisal. ‘Most mothers are uncannily accurate when it comes to assessing the health of their children. Remember that. They sense things that we doctors, even with years of training, can take longer to detect. Now, given that you have been unable to examine the patient, show me where she is and I will do it for you.’

Stiff and defensive, the casualty officer led the way down the corridor and into one of the small cubicles.

Prepared to deal with a very distressed child, Stefano stopped dead in the doorway, astonished to see the little girl laughing and smiling.

Liv was kneeling on the floor, chatting away happily and the child sat listening, clearly absorbed by the conversation. Her eyes were fixed on the nurse in fascination and Stefano found himself reacting in much the same way.

From his vantage point in the doorway, his gaze was drawn to the curve of her soft mouth and suddenly he found himself comparing the sweetness of her smile to Francine’s sexy scarlet pout.

Surprised by the direction of his thoughts, Stefano wondered why he was comparing two women who were so blatantly unalike.

Francine was an actress and a model—her looks were part of her job. Whereas Liv—well, she was entirely different. She wasn’t beautiful in the conventional sense. Her mouth was too wide and she had a pronounced dimple in her left cheek when she smiled, but there was something about her face that made it difficult to look away. Her eyes were bright and intelligent, and she radiated warmth and good humour as she talked to the child.

Stefano’s gaze swept her body in an instinctive male appraisal.

Her uniform wasn’t tight, but there was no missing her enticing curves and he felt the immediate and powerful response of his body. As irritated by his reaction as he was surprised, he turned his attention back to the child, assuming that it was just that ridiculous conversation with his sister that was suddenly turning his thoughts to sex in the middle of his working day.

‘So you sit next to Annabel.’ Liv spoke in a calm, gentle voice that removed all the stress from the room and smoothed Stefano’s frayed nerves like the stroke of a velvet glove. ‘And who is your teacher?’

‘Miss Grant.’ The little girl smiled at her. ‘She has her hair in a ponytail, like you.’

‘Well, that’s the best way to wear it for work, especially if it’s curly because it can get in your eyes. So how did you fall on your finger?’

Aware that Greg Hampton was about to speak, Stefano silenced him with a lift of his hand and a searing glance, intensely irritated that the man would even consider intervening when the nurse clearly had full control of the situation.

Fortunately the child hadn’t even noticed their presence. ‘I did it yesterday. We were practising the nativity play,’ she was saying, ‘and I tripped over a sheep. I mean, not a real sheep, actually it was Gareth, dressed as a sheep. But I fell on my finger, I mean like all my weight was on my finger.’

Stefano watched as Liv listened attentively to the child’s story and then carefully examined the child’s finger.

Her hair was the rich brown of a conker and it gleamed and shone under the harsh emergency room lights. Although it had been pulled back into a ponytail, several curls had escaped and now drifted around her face. Having not looked twice at a woman for months, Stefano found himself staring. She wasn’t wearing a trace of make-up and yet her lashes were thick and dark and her cheeks had a healthy glow. But what really drew his attention was her absolute focus on the little girl.

She wasn’t thinking about herself or her appearance. She hadn’t even noticed that he was standing in the doorway.

Suddenly his mind drifted back to the conversation he’d overheard the day before.

Why did Anna want to buy her hot sex for Christmas?

Stefano dismissed the question instantly as one of those things that women laugh about and men are better off not knowing.

But his eyes trailed back to her mouth and lower.

She didn’t look like a woman who needed someone else to find her hot sex.

Why had Anna been hugging her? Had something happened? Was there something wrong in her life?

‘Ouch. That’s the bit that really hurts.’ The little girl winced as Liv gently manipulated her fingers.

‘It’s bound to hurt because it’s really bruised, can you see? It’s just a bit black there—over the joint. I think you’re incredibly brave.’

The little girl looked doubtful. ‘I was crying.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Liv’s tone suggested that anything less would have been unthinkable. ‘If it were my finger, I would have cried, too. I think you’ve been amazing. But what we need to do now is fix it so that it doesn’t hurt so much. What were you in the nativity play?’

‘A star. Is it broken?’

‘Well, I’m going to take a look at your X-ray and then have a chat with the doctor.’

‘Not the same doctor as before?’ The child shrank slightly. ‘He was really angry with me—’ Suddenly noticing Greg in the doorway, she snatched her hand back. ‘He’s not going to touch me.’

The atmosphere altered in the blink of an eye.

Deciding that swift intervention was called for if he wasn’t to lose all chances of examining the child himself, Stefano cast a meaningful glance towards his less experienced colleague and strolled into the room.

‘Ciao, cucciola mia.’ He addressed the little girl directly but her eyes were fixed on Greg in horror.

‘I don’t want him to be my doctor.’

‘He isn’t your doctor.’

‘So why is he here?’

‘Because he works with me.’ Well aware that his height and physique could make him intimidating, Stefano dropped into a crouch so that he was at the same level as the child. ‘So you fell off a stage, is that right?’

‘Yes.’ Finally the little girl looked at him and her expression was curious. ‘Why do you speak with a funny accent?’

Stefano smiled. ‘Because I’m from Italy.’

‘Like pizza? I love pizza.’

‘Just like pizza. So tell me…’ Stefano gently took her hand in his and examined her fingers ‘…what is your favourite pizza?’

‘Margarita, but not too cheesy and no lumps of tomatoes.’

‘Obviously you are a woman who knows what she wants.’ Amused, Stefano turned the child’s hand over. ‘Show me how you fell on your hand.’

‘I fell all on one finger, like this…’ The little girl pretended to stab the ground and Stefano pulled a face.

‘Well, that is why your finger is hurting. You are supposed to walk on your feet, not your finger.’ Gently he manipulated the finger. ‘Does this hurt? This? Can you squeeze—make a fist?’

As he examined the dark bruising over the back of the finger, he was acutely conscious of Liv next to him. He allowed himself one sideways glance, but she wasn’t even looking at him. All her attention was still focused on her little patient.

‘I thought it was probably a volar plate injury,’ she murmured and Stefano silently compared her calm efficiency with Greg’s ineffectual arrogance.

‘I agree.’ Impressed, he gave her a rare smile but she didn’t even seem to notice.

She didn’t blush, stare or send him a subtly flirtatious look. In fact she didn’t look at him at all. Instead, she rose to her feet, her eyes still on the little girl. ‘You’ll have to be careful with that finger for a few weeks, Bella.’

Stefano was so accustomed to being cautious in his interaction with women that for a moment he was taken aback by her apparent indifference to him.

For a brief moment in Resus yesterday he’d felt a powerful explosion of chemistry and he was sure that she’d felt it too. But clearly it had been his imagination.

He almost laughed at himself. Had he really grown so arrogant that he expected every woman to look at him?

Unfortunately the child’s mother was looking at him with what she obviously believed to be feminine allure.

‘You’re the consultant?’ She scanned Stefano’s face and her eyes widened slightly. ‘What’s a volar plate? I’ve never heard of it.’

Stefano ignored the look in her eyes and kept his response cool and professional. ‘Your finger joints are like a hinge, yes? They must bend and straighten. The bones are connected together by tough bands of tissue called ligaments. In this joint—we call it the PIP—the strongest ligament is the volar plate.’

The mother studied his face a little more intently than was necessary. ‘So she’s pulled a ligament? Like a sprain, you mean?’

Instinctively adjusting his body language to create distance, Stefano stepped back. ‘This particular ligament connects the proximal phalanx to the middle phalanx on the palm side of the joint.’

‘These two joints,’ Liv said quickly, demonstrating on her own hand and Stefano gave a faint smile because he realised that he’d made his explanation far too complicated, which was unlike him.

But he’d been extricating himself from the flirtatious glances of the mother.

Forcing his mind back onto his work, he tried again. ‘The ligament tightens as the joint is straightened and keeps the joint from hyper-extending—bending too far back, in other words. But if you do overextend this joint, the volar plate can be damaged.’

The little girl’s face drooped with disappointment. ‘So does that mean I can’t be a star in the nativity?’

Unusually for him, Stefano found himself at a loss. ‘What exactly does a star do?’

‘I dance a bit and then I stand still while the shepherds walk towards me.’

‘That will be fine,’ Stefano assured her. ‘Just be careful not to fall over any more sheep.’

‘Is it broken?’

‘Not exactly broken, just damaged. And we’re going to have to give it some help to make it better.’

‘Will I have a plaster that everyone in my class can sign?’

‘No. We’re going to give it a buddy to hold onto. This finger next to it—it will support your bad finger until it is healed. Your good finger will help your injured finger. Like a friend.’ Stefano glanced at Liv. ‘Can you arrange that for me?’

‘Of course. And I expect you want her to go back to the hand clinic in ten days, to check that Bella has full movement in that finger.’ She scribbled on a form and signed it. ‘Now, if you just wait there, I’ll strap that finger for you.’

‘I know who you are.’ The little girl’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re Max’s mum, aren’t you? You’re called Liv.’

In the process of writing the notes, Stefano’s hand stilled. She had a child?

He didn’t know which surprised him most, the fact that she was some child’s mother when she really didn’t look old enough, or his own thunderous disappointment that she belonged to another man.

If she was married, why had Anna been offering to buy her hot sex for Christmas?

Seriously concerned by the alarming direction of his own thoughts, he scrawled in the notes and strode to the door. ‘If you need anything else, call me,’ he said in a cool tone but Liv didn’t appear any more disconcerted by the chill than she’d been impressed by the smile. Instead she simply concentrated on applying Elastoplast strapping to the child’s finger.

As they walked out of the door, Greg cleared his throat. ‘Is everything all right, Mr Lucarelli?’

‘That nurse is obviously very experienced,’ Stefano said smoothly. ‘My advice is to watch and learn. Next time you run into trouble with a child, ask for her help.’

Why did he care whether she was married?

What difference did it make to him?

He glanced over his shoulder just as Liv lifted her left hand to remove a piece of strapping. And Stefano noticed one more thing about her.

Her finger was bare. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

CHAPTER THREE

HER heart thudding frantically in her chest, Liv finished strapping Bella’s finger and gave the mother a set of instructions.

It had proved really, really hard to work shoulder to shoulder with Stefano Lucarelli without once looking at him, but somehow she’d managed it.

Not that her display of willpower had done anything to reduce the effect he had on her. Whenever he was in the room, her body felt oddly lethargic, her skin tingled and there was a tiny thrill in her stomach that took her breath away.

Chemistry.

No, not chemistry. That implied something shared and there was no way he would feel the same way about her. Which meant that what she was feeling was…lust. Good old-fashioned lust.

Well, whatever it was called it was extremely irritating and inconvenient, she thought to herself crossly, as she directed mother and child back towards the exit. It had been the same the previous day in Resus. One glance was all it had taken. The look itself had probably lasted for less than a second, but the aftershocks had been with her all day and the depth of her reaction shocked her because she’d had no idea she was even capable of experiencing that sudden fiery burn of sexual awareness.

It was all Anna’s fault. If they hadn’t had that ridiculous conversation about sex, Liv wouldn’t have noticed Stefano Lucarelli.

Or maybe she would.

With an exasperated sigh, Liv dried her hands and forced herself to think about Jack, something she usually avoided at all costs. But desperate times called for desperate measures. If she thought about Jack, she’d remember why she was single.

Having thoroughly depressed herself, she was just about to call her next patient when Anna slid into the room, her eyes gleaming wickedly.

‘You’ll never guess what.’

Liv slipped her scissors back into her pocket. ‘No, I probably wouldn’t but I’m glad you’re here, because I need to ask a favour.’

‘Anything.’ Anna waved her hand airily. ‘Since our irascible consultant has taken a shine to you, you’re my best asset. But if it’s a pay rise, forget it.’

‘Can I work a split shift on Friday? Max has been picked for the football team.’

‘Really?’ Anna’s face brightened. ‘That’s fantastic. Yes, work a split. I’ll juggle the rota if I have to. Why don’t you let me pick him up from school afterwards and he can do a sleepover with Sam.’

‘I can’t ask you to do that—’

‘You’d be doing me a favour. If the boys are playing, I can write my Christmas cards. They’ve been glaring at me from inside their packaging for the past two weeks.’

Liv smiled. ‘All right. Thanks so much.’ It would save her having to beg yet another favour, this time from the childminder.

‘It’s the least I can do for Super-Nurse. Our cool, hard-to-please consultant is sending shivers of terror throughout the department but apparently you make the grade.’ Anna’s smile was wicked. ‘He strode up to me this morning and said in his most commanding voice, “When I am in Resus, I want Leev with me.” The way he says your name is incredibly sexy.’

Liv tried to ignore the bump of her heart. ‘You need to work on your Italian accent. That was a terrible imitation.’

‘What exactly did you do to him in Resus to make him love you so much? I really want to know. I’m trying not to be offended by the fact he clearly thinks the rest of us are rubbish.’

‘We just worked well together.’

Anna gave a slow smile. ‘Obviously you make a lovely couple. Have you invited him to the Snowflake Ball yet?’

‘No, I haven’t invited him to the Snowflake Ball, because I’m not going.’

‘You should invite him. At least then you’ll have something to tell your grandchildren.’ Anna glanced over her shoulder to check they were alone and then whipped a piece of paper out of her pocket. ‘One of the nurses in fracture clinic looked Sexy Stefano up on the internet and came across an interview with his ex—some gorgeous blonde Italian actress.’ She unfolded the paper. ‘Listen to this—“One of the drawbacks of Italian men is that they’re extremely macho and dominating.”’ Anna glanced up. ‘Is that a drawback? I’d give anything for David to ignore the fact that I’m loading the dishwasher and just throw me down onto the sofa for a bit of wild sex.’

‘Anna, for goodness’ sake—’

‘You haven’t heard anything yet.’ Anna cleared her throat. ‘“Stefano was so hot tempered and passionate that our entire relationship sometimes felt like one long blazing series of rows and reconciliation.”’

Unsettled by the conversation, Liv concentrated on putting the dressings away. ‘That doesn’t sound very relaxing. I’m not surprised they broke up.’

‘Hold on, I’m just coming to the best bit—“Maybe it’s because he’s a doctor, but he knew exactly what to do to my body. He was so skilled in bed and so demanding that for six months I was too tired to get up in the morning. My career almost fell apart. Two words come to mind when I think of Stefano and they are sex and stamina.” All right, now I’m jealous.’ Anna scrunched the paper up and threw it in the bin in disgust. ‘I can’t remember the last time I was kept awake by a man’s ravenous libido.’

‘This is too much information.’ Liv covered her ears. ‘I really like your husband.’

‘I like him too, and it’s as much my fault as his. Life is so exhausting that when I see my bed I just want to sleep in it, not set fire to the sheets. I wish I hadn’t read that article. I was relatively happy with my life until I realised that I could be having hot sex all night with a luscious trauma surgeon who knows exactly what to do with my body. I mean, can you imagine waking up in the morning next to Stefano Lucarelli?’

‘No, I can’t imagine it because it would be too terrible for words.’ Liv shuddered. ‘It would be daylight and I would never have the confidence to show my body to anyone in daylight. He’d probably be sick.’

Anna gaped at her. ‘You have absolutely no idea how lovely you are.’

‘Oh yes.’ Liv gave a mocking a smile. ‘So lovely that Jack could barely drag himself away from me to sleep with other women.’

‘Jack was just a—’ Anna used a word that made Liv blink.

‘I can’t believe you just said that. Wash your mouth out.’

‘I just hate the way he’s made you feel about yourself,’ Anna said simply. ‘Because of him, you have no self-confidence. Just do me a favour—try smouldering at Stefano and see what happens.’

‘He’d probably throw a bucket of water over me and I wouldn’t blame him.’

‘He’s seriously rich, gorgeous and single. If you’re not even prepared to flirt with him then you need therapy,’ Anna said and Liv smiled.

‘Anna, darling, one of us definitely needs therapy, but I don’t think it’s me.’

‘Are you telling me that you can look him in the eye and not think of sex?’

‘Stop talking about sex!’ The words came out louder than she’d intended and Liv slammed a hand over her mouth and giggled in disbelief. ‘For crying out loud, Anna, what is the matter with you? Go to lunch, or go and have a cold shower or—something.’

‘“Or something” sounds good but unfortunately I’ll have to settle for lunch.’ Anna handed her the keys to the drug cupboard. ‘You’re in charge. Hire and fire at will. Try not to get up to anything while I’m gone.’ She walked briskly out of the room and Liv pinned the keys in her pocket with hands that weren’t quite steady.

All this talk of sex was starting to unsettle her.

Her eyes slid to the article in the bin.

Did he know what to do with his hands? Well, of course he did. He was a good-looking, confident, experienced man. He didn’t fumble in Resus and she didn’t for a moment expect him to fumble in the bedroom. He just wasn’t that type of guy.

She gave a sigh of exasperation. Pretending that she hadn’t noticed him or that he wasn’t attractive was just silly. Who was she kidding? Everyone had noticed him and with good reason.

Wealthy, good-looking doctors weren’t exactly a common species. Most of the doctors she worked with were pale-skinned and out of shape, like plants that had been deprived of sunlight. Stefano’s bronzed skin and Mediterranean good looks made him stand out like a bold sunflower in a field of withered dandelions.

But what really stayed in her mind was his skill as a doctor. He was breathtakingly skilled and ruthless in his demands for perfection, and yet at the same time he’d shown himself capable of displaying a surprising degree of compassion when it was required. He was gorgeous.

Seriously worried by her own thoughts, she gave herself a sharp talking to. Enough! Even thinking of him in that way was embarrassing. He was smooth, sophisticated and stunning whereas she was—she was…

Delusional, Liv thought, exasperated with herself. Delusional, for thinking that a man like him might be interested in someone like her.

Ordinary, wasn’t that what Jack had called her?

Ordinary. Dependable.

She was a good nurse, a loving mother and a caring friend. But she wasn’t sexy or glamorous.

And she wasn’t the sort of woman that a man like Stefano Lucarelli would ever notice.

She needed to stop thinking about sex and get on with her life.

‘Down the wing, Max, down the wing!’

Two days later Liv stood on edge of the school field with a row of parents. Several of the men had obviously taken the afternoon off from work to cheer the children on in their football match.

And it was cold. Really cold. Liv had wrapped a scarf around her neck but her breath clouded the freezing air and her fingers were numb.

‘Hi, Liv. You’ve met my husband, Simon, haven’t you?’ The mother of a boy in Max’s class was standing huddled next to a stocky, cheerful-looking man whose polished shoes looked out of place on the school playing field. A toddler slept in a pushchair next to her and every now and then she jiggled the handle to keep him asleep. Even under the large winter coat, it was obvious that she was very pregnant.

‘Hi, Simon.’ Liv smiled. ‘How are you, Claire? When’s the baby due?’

‘Christmas Day.’ Claire cast a teasing glance towards her husband. ‘You’ll be cooking the turkey, sunshine. Better start practising.’

‘Ah—I had something to tell you about that.’ Simon was concentrating hard on the game, his eyes following the ball. ‘I’ve invited my mother to stay at Christmas. It seemed like a good idea. Go on, James!’

‘You’ve invited your mother? Are you kidding?!’ Claire’s mouth dropped open but Simon was urging the team on and didn’t respond. Claire glanced at Liv and rolled her eyes. ‘Men! At the first hint of domestic work, they ring their mothers.’

Simon dragged his eyes from the pitch for half a second. ‘Did you really want to eat my turkey?’

Claire glared at him. ‘So you’re going to be on the sofa watching the TV?’

His eyes were back on the pitch. ‘I do my bit.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Yes, really! I’m the one that’s been coaching James on his football skills. And just look at him go!’ Simon gazed at his son proudly and Liv felt something uncurl inside her. Something uncomfortable that made her feel slightly sick.

She looked away quickly, reminding herself that she could kick a football with her son, too. But it wasn’t the same, was it? Sometimes she just ached when she saw the way Max stared longingly at the fathers playing with their sons in the park. She’d seen the way he sidled up to the fringes of other male groups, hoping to be included.

The truth was that there was no male influence in his life and he needed one. If she had the money she would have given him football coaching for his Christmas present but that was out of the question.

She was his football coach. She was everything.

Liv turned her attention back to the football match, shocked by the thick sludge of jealousy that surged through her veins.

Hating herself for feeling that way, she gritted her teeth. It wasn’t like her. She was incredibly lucky. She had a son she adored and a job she loved—a good life.

Her eyes slid back towards Claire and Simon who were still sharing a laugh together at the prospect of their crazy, noisy Christmas.

But she didn’t have anyone to share her life with, did she?

Perhaps Anna was right. Perhaps it was time she thought about dating again. But she really didn’t think she had the courage. Perhaps if she used the internet and said SINGLE MOTHER WITH CHILD, at least that would warn people that she wasn’t a supermodel. But she had to put something nice about herself. Can make pizza, kick a football and read bedtime stories? What sort of person would that attract?

The truth was that the mere thought of internet dating, horrified her. What if someone met her in the flesh and thought, Yuck?

Shrinking at the thought, Liv concentrated on the game. She watched as Max sped down the field, a determined look on his face as he chased the ball. His little legs were bruised and muddy and his football shirt was so long it looked as though he wasn’t wearing any shorts, but he was trying so hard that he was almost bursting. He looked so small and vulnerable, Liv thought to herself, wondering whether parenthood affected everyone like this.

When she looked at him she just ached, wanting everything to be all right for him.

Dating when she was single had been hard enough. Dating with a child didn’t bear thinking about. This time it wasn’t just her who would be hurt when it all went wrong.

Conscious of Claire’s husband yelling at his son, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to subdue the envy. There were men out there prepared to shoulder the responsibility of family. It was just that she hadn’t found one. Maybe she would, one day. Someone who wouldn’t think Yuck when he saw her. Someone who would see past the fact that she wasn’t sexy and value her other qualities.

She watched as Max’s foot made contact with the ball and it flew into the goal. Max yelled triumphantly and all his teammates jumped on him, barely able to contain their excitement.

Liv clapped her hands and Claire and Simon gave a little whoop.

‘Did you see me, Mum?’ He came running over; her little boy with shining eyes and cheeks pink from the cold. ‘Did you see me?’

‘I saw you.’ She bent and hugged him, loving the fact that he still wanted her to do that, despite the presence of his friends. ‘You were brilliant.’

‘I love football, Mum. I love it.’

‘I know you do.’ Liv hugged him tightly, breathing in the smell of little boy and muddy field.

‘Are you going to work now?’

‘Yes. And you’re going home with Anna and Sam. Be good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.’

‘Great, bye Mum.’ He turned and sped across the field to join his friends who were making their way back towards the school.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Liv said a quick goodbye to Claire and Simon and walked towards her car. Having taken a few hours off in the middle of the day, she was due back at the hospital. No time to mope or feel sorry for herself. The reality of her life. Work. If she didn’t work, there was no money.

The moment she walked through the doors, Stefano Lucarelli strode up to her. ‘Where have you been?’ His raw masculinity took her breath away and Liv felt the instantaneous reaction of her body. Her heart pounded, her knees weakened and she felt horribly light-headed. To make matters worse, the interview with the actress was fresh in her mind and suddenly she had a disturbingly vivid image of him sliding those strong, confident hands over the pliant shivering body of a sickeningly slender woman.

Flustered, she unwrapped the scarf from around her neck. ‘I had a few hours off this afternoon.’

‘In the middle of your shift?’ He stood in front of her, legs spread in a confrontational stance, blocking her path. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Sexual awareness burned hot and dangerous and every thought was blown from her head except one. He’d noticed that she hadn’t been working. For a reason that she didn’t want to examine, she felt like singing and dancing, but somehow she managed to keep her feet still.

‘You were looking for me?’

Maybe the feelings weren’t all on her side.

‘Sì, I was looking for you. We had a very distressed child with a fractured tibia,’ he growled. ‘I needed you.’

A distressed child.

Liv returned to reality with such a bump that every part of her felt bruised even though she hadn’t moved a muscle. Disappointment swamped her like a flutter of freezing snow. He’d needed her. At work. Of course, at work. ‘There are other nurses.’

‘I was given other nurses. And they were slow. I had to ask for the instruments I needed,’ he said scathingly, ‘and they had no idea how to comfort the child. Where were you?’

Liv didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

She should be grateful to him, she told herself. It was just the wake-up call she needed. She wasn’t the sort of woman a man turned to when he needed hot sex, she was the sort of woman a man turned to when he needed something done. ‘I’m working a split shift, today. I went to watch my son play football.’

The thunderous expression on his face vanished and his mouth curved into an unexpected smile. ‘He plays football? Did he score?’

Transfixed by that smile and the sudden change in him, Liv blinked. ‘Y-yes, actually,’ she stammered finally. ‘He did. He was thrilled.’ And he wanted to be picked for the first team but she had no idea how to coach him properly.

His eyes lingered on her face for a long, unsettling moment. ‘So why are you looking so worried?’

‘Worried?’ She was so astonished that he’d noticed that the word came out like a squeak and she almost laughed at herself. Talk about unsophisticated. Anna would have thought of something flirtatious and clever to say, but she couldn’t even hold a conversation with the man without her tongue tying itself into a knot. ‘I’m not worried.’

‘But something is wrong.’ His eyes didn’t shift from her face. ‘Tell me.’

She stared up into the dark glitter of his eyes and felt her stomach flip. Oh boy. My son needs a father, I need a makeover, I’m broke and it’s Christmas in three weeks.

Liv gave a laugh, trying to imagine his face if she spilled out her problems. ‘Nothing is wrong. I’d better go.’ Before her thoughts and her words became mixed up. ‘I’ll be back in the department in a minute, Mr Lucarelli.’

And by then she would have pulled herself together.

She needed to stop dreaming, before she embarrassed herself.

What was the matter with her? Normally, she was realistic and practical. Even if she were single with no responsibilities, she wouldn’t have allowed herself to be tempted by this man.

His life was so far removed from hers, it was laughable.

She could just imagine his reaction if she were to invite him to the ball. His polite refusal would no doubt become her second most embarrassing moment ever, after being overheard discussing sex with Anna.

‘I’ll see you in a minute, Mr Lucarelli.’ She lifted the bag that had slipped off her shoulder and his eyes narrowed.

‘Stefano,’ he purred in a disturbingly male voice. ‘My name is Stefano. Why does everyone keep calling me Mr Lucarelli? The emergency department is a very informal place to work.’

‘Well, you’re extremely senior and you’re also relatively new so I suppose people are wary about being too familiar, and some people find you—’ She broke off and backed towards the staffroom. ‘I really need to change.’

‘Wait.’ His fingers closed over her arm. ‘You didn’t finish your sentence. Some people find me…?’

She hesitated. ‘Intimidating. Just a little.’

‘Intimidating? Me?’ His dark eyes were lazily amused. ‘I’m a pussycat.’

‘Technically, so is a tiger,’ Liv said dryly and he laughed.

‘Providing people do their jobs correctly, I promise to keep my claws sheathed.’ His gaze lingered on her face. ‘You say “some people”. Not you?’

Did he know that he was still holding her arm? ‘I like the fact you have high standards. It means you’re one less thing I have to worry about when I’m in Resus. I’m a control freak.’

He laughed. ‘Likewise.’

‘Two control freaks working in the same room could be a disaster.’

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Not if they were working towards the same objective. That would make them a powerful team, I think.’ He sounded impossibly Italian and she sucked in a breath and eased her arm away from his grip.

‘I’d better get changed or they’ll be wondering where I am.’

Liv took refuge in the staffroom, slung her bag in the locker, quickly changed into her uniform and stared at herself in the mirror.

Her heart was thumping and her arm was tingling where he’d touched her.

Take a look at yourself, she told herself, standing square to the mirror. Remember who you are. Twenty-eight-year-old single mother. Nothing special. Now remember who he is. Extremely good-looking rich guy with a taste for skinny actresses.

Get a grip, Liv.

CHAPTER FOUR

IT WAS past ten o’clock before Stefano was finally able to leave the emergency department.

It had been a chaotic evening, with two serious car accidents in quick succession placing enormous demands on the already overstretched staff.

Fortunately for him, Liv had been working in Resus with him and things had run amazingly smoothly.

As he walked across the car park, the ground sparkled with frost and the sky was clear enough to warn him that it was going to be another cold night. Mentally he braced himself for a spate of accidents in the morning as drivers hit black ice.

From across the car park came the splutter and cough of an engine that didn’t want to start and he saw Liv sitting in a small car, her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, her breath forming clouds in the cold air.

Stefano tensed, instinctively suspicious.

On at least two occasions in the past, women had faked car problems in order to wangle a lift home with him.

He took a closer look at the car and decided that this particular bout of engine trouble couldn’t possibly be anything but genuine. The car was ancient and there was a significant amount of rust at the base of the door. He wasn’t surprised that it wouldn’t start. What surprised him was that she’d managed to drive it to the hospital in the first place.

Stefano strode across to her and pulled open the door, amazed that it didn’t come off in his hand. ‘Problems?’ He waited for her to give a sigh of relief and ask him for a lift, but instead she just shook her head.

‘I’m fine,’ she said firmly. ‘But thanks for asking. Have a good evening, Mr Lucarelli. See you tomorrow.’

Fine? See you tomorrow? Astounded by her reaction, Stefano rested an arm on the top of the driver’s door and leaned down so that he could talk to her properly. ‘That engine doesn’t sound fine to me.’

He should walk away. She was encouraging him to walk away.

So why didn’t he do just that?

‘It’s a little temperamental, that’s all. It likes to keep me guessing.’ With a determined look on her face, she turned the key in the ignition again. The car gave a feeble cough and then there was nothing.

‘Liv, there’s temperamental and there’s dead. Your engine is dead.’

‘It can’t be.’ She slumped in her seat, a desperate look in her eyes. ‘It just hates cold weather, that’s all. If I leave it for a moment, it will start.’

Her teeth were chattering, her lips had a bluish tinge and Stefano reached into the car and gently removed the keys from her frozen fingers. ‘This car is not going to start. I’ll give you a lift wherever you want to go.’ He wondered what it was about this particular woman that made him say things he wouldn’t normally dream of saying.

But instead of accepting his offer with relief and gratitude, she shook her head firmly.

‘Absolutely not.’ She gathered her things together. ‘I’ll be fine, Mr Lucarelli, honestly. But thanks for checking on me. I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be. Please don’t hang around on my account.’

She was refusing his offer of help?

Finding himself in completely unknown territory, Stefano didn’t know whether to be amused or exasperated. ‘And what do you plan to do? Sleep here until your next shift?’

‘I’ll take the underground. The train runs very close to my house.’

Her black coat was at least two sizes too big, but he caught a glimpse of slim legs in black tights and black boots. She looked more like a teenager than a mother with a young child. ‘You’re not taking the train.’ The thought of her travelling on the underground horrified him. ‘I’m giving you a lift.’ He leaned across her, swiftly undid her seat belt and gently tugged her out of the car.

‘Mr Lucarelli, I really don’t—’

‘It’s Stefano.’ He locked her car, not because he thought anyone was likely to steal it—no one would be that desperate—but out of consideration for her feelings. ‘And you may think you’re controlling, but you can’t be as controlling as me. If I don’t get my own way, I’m unbearable. Ask my sister if you don’t believe me. Leave the car. Your garage can sort it out.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Her expression was one of utter desolation and he frowned.

‘It’s just a car, Liv.’

For a moment she didn’t answer and then she looked up at him, her smile just a little too bright. ‘Yes, I know. Absolutely. And thanks for the offer of a lift, but I’ll be fine on the train.’ She eased her arm away from his and he felt a flash of exasperation.

‘Do you always refuse help?’

‘I’m never usually offered help. I’m used to doing things on my own. Taking care of myself. I suppose I feel…awkward. I don’t want to put you out.’

He wondered why she was so suddenly so lacking in confidence when an hour earlier she’d been saving a life. ‘So let me get this straight. You would rather skid along an icy pavement in freezing conditions and then wait on a draughty platform for a dark smelly underground train than have a lift to your door in my warm car. I confess I’m not flattered by your choice. Am I really that intimidating?’

Liv’s glance was self-conscious. ‘You can’t possibly want to give me a lift home.’

Faced with the unusual situation of having to persuade a woman into his car, Stefano applied the full force of his personality. ‘Just get in the car, Liv, and stop arguing.’

‘You’re right, you are controlling.’

‘In this weather, it’s an advantage. Accidenti, we’re both going to freeze.’ He took her hand and led her across the car park, noticing that her fingers were very slim and very cold. ‘You should wear gloves.’

‘I lost them.’ She snatched her hand away from his as if she had only just realised that he was holding her. Immediately she slipped on the ice and would have crashed to the ground if he hadn’t caught her. ‘Oops! Oh my goodness!’ Her legs slithered and he held her firmly, gritting his teeth as he felt the brush of her body against his.

Liv started to giggle and her laughter was so infectious that he found himself smiling, too.

‘Stefano.’ He held her firmly as she struggled to regain her footing on the icy surface. ‘My name is Stefano. Start using it or I’ll drop you.’

‘If you drop me, you’ll end up fixing the damage. You can let go of me now, I’m fine.’ Gingerly her fingers released their grip on the front of his coat. ‘Thank you.’

He tried to ignore the scent of her hair and the way her soft curves pressed against him, but the reaction of his body was instantaneous and he was experienced enough to know that the astonishing chemistry wasn’t all on his side.

Her cheeks were pink and she was looking everywhere except at him.

Definitely not all on his side.

Wondering why she was so determined to get away from him when the attraction between them was so powerful, he reluctantly released her. ‘Let’s get in the car before we both develop hypothermia. Give me directions to your house.’

Her eyes slid over his car, the streamlined black Ferrari that had been his Christmas present to himself two years previously. ‘All right, now I’m envious. Your car has no rust and I bet the engine starts first time.’

‘Actually it doesn’t.’ Stefano opened the door. ‘It hates the cold damp weather. I’m starting to think I should garage it over the winter and—’ He had been about to say ‘and use the other car’ when he’d realised how insensitive that would be in the circumstances. ‘Get in, Liv, before we both freeze.’

With obvious reluctance, she did as she was told and he strode round the car and settled himself in the driver’s seat.

With an unconsciously sensual movement, she slid her hands slowly over the leather seats and her eyes flickered to the dashboard. ‘Four point three litre engine,’ she murmured, ‘Naught to sixty in 3.9 seconds, F1 paddle shift transmission and carbon ceramic composite brakes.’

Stefano stared at her in incredulous disbelief and she smiled at him.

‘Modified version of the 360s semi-space frame aluminium chassis. Capable of a top speed of 196 miles per hour.’

Stefano drew some much-needed air into his lungs. ‘You’re interested in cars?’

‘Not in the slightest, but don’t tell my little boy. He thinks I love cars.’ Her eyes danced and her cheeks dimpled. ‘I’m living proof that it’s possible to sound knowledgeable about a subject without actually understanding anything. All I really know about your car is that it can go fast. Which isn’t much use in London.’

Stefano started to laugh. ‘You memorised all that?’

‘Well, not intentionally. But Max doesn’t like fairy-tales much. He prefers to read about engines and how things work. Anna’s husband gave him a book on super-cars.’

‘So you curl up in bed at night reading about Ferraris?’

‘Gripping, don’t you think? I can hardly wait to turn the page. Next week we should be moving on to Lamborghini. I particularly enjoyed November because that was Maserati.’

He loved her sense of humour but most of all he liked her smile. She was smiling at him now and it took all his willpower not to bring his mouth down on hers because the curve of her lips was so, so tempting.

But there was no sign of flirtation. Nothing to suggest she was even aware of her own appeal or the effect she was having on him.

‘Your little boy is very lucky,’ he said softly and her smile dimmed slightly.

‘Not really. He’s crazy about cars and football. I’ve done a great deal of homework on both subjects but it isn’t really the same.’ Staring at the monitors on the dashboard, she looked suddenly wistful. ‘My own bedtime reading is a book on coaching football. Max is desperate to make the first team.’

He could imagine her studying the book, trying to help her little boy. ‘He played today, so your coaching has obviously paid off.’

‘I wish that were true, but I’m afraid it isn’t. I think he has a natural talent but I have no idea how to foster that talent,’ she admitted. ‘I need to get some practical advice from somewhere. This afternoon all these fathers were yelling technical stuff to their boys and—’ She broke off and shot him an apologetic glance. ‘Sorry. This is very boring for you.’

He’d never been less bored by a woman in his life. ‘I’m sure that the important thing for Max was that you were actually there, supporting him. Where is his father? Does he ever come and watch him?’ He leaned across and fastened her seat belt, feeling her shrink against the seat as his hands brushed against her body.

She snuggled deeper inside the coat and he wondered why she was so self-conscious.

‘I have no idea where his father is,’ she croaked, her cheeks a little pinker than they had been a few moments before. ‘Off enjoying himself somewhere, I should imagine. I’m not married, Mr Lucarelli. Nor do I want to be,’ she said hastily and he hid a smile because she was obviously concerned that he might misinterpret her unguarded declaration.

He thought of Francine, who could have turned flirtation into an Olympic sport. Then he glanced at Liv’s sweet profile and suddenly wanted to know more about her.

‘You’re not in touch with his father?’

‘Jack was allergic to children. Unfortunately for Max, I didn’t discover that until after I became pregnant.’

‘He knew you were pregnant and he left you?’ Unable to hide his disapproval, Stefano frowned and she cleared her throat.

‘Not immediately. He hung around until Max was three. Sort of.’

‘Sort of?’ Uncomprehending, Stefano glanced at her but she was staring straight ahead.

‘Well, we were married but not really…together. He had someone else, but I didn’t find out for quite a while. Actually he had quite a few “someone elses” which doesn’t do much for one’s confidence, obviously. And I can’t believe I’m telling you this.’ She glanced at him, appalled. ‘Why am I telling you this?’

‘Because I asked.’

‘Well that will teach you not to ask.’ She looked away. ‘It was all my fault, anyway.’

‘How was it your fault?’

‘I wasn’t his type. I should have seen that right at the beginning,’ she said quickly. ‘Jack was handsome and clever.’

Not that clever, Stefano thought grimly, glancing at her profile and wondering if she realised just how much she’d revealed about herself with that simple statement. ‘He wanted nothing to do with his son?’

It was a few seconds before she answered. ‘No.’

‘But he gives you financial help?’

Liv turned her head and stared out of the window. ‘Do you think we should get going before the temperature drops any further? The roads will be lethal. I can’t remember much about the Ferrari’s performance on sheet ice.’

Stefano sat still for a moment, interpreting her answer.

So that was why she was so worried about her car.

It was obvious that she had no financial help and she was raising a child in an expensive city on a nurse’s meagre salary. She was doing it all on her own. All of it.

But that didn’t really explain why Anna had been talking about Liv’s apparently non-existent sex life. Why wasn’t she dating? Silently contemplating that issue, he started the engine and reversed out of his space. ‘So who is looking after Max now? Do you have a nanny?’

‘I use a childminder before and after school, but tonight he’s doing a sleepover at Anna’s. Max is best friends with her little boy.’

‘So you’re not rushing home to him?’

‘No. Why?’

Making an instantaneous decision, Stefano steered the car down a series of back streets and then pulled in and parked. ‘Because it means we have time to grab something to eat before I drop you home. Neither of us has eaten since lunchtime. You must be starving and there is an absolutely fantastic Italian restaurant here.’

‘No!’ Liv swivelled to face him, her expression horrified. ‘It’s incredibly kind of you, but I couldn’t possibly do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because— No.’ Her gaze slid from his. ‘I’ll make myself some toast before I go to bed.’

‘Toast?’ Having never eaten toast for dinner in his life, Stefano looked at her in amazement. ‘I’m suggesting we go out to eat and you’re choosing toast?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Loads of reasons.’ She fiddled with the strap of her handbag, her discomfort so acute that it was almost painful to watch. ‘I’m not dressed for a fancy restaurant and I can’t afford to eat out.’

The change in her was startling. Working with him in Resus she’d been a poised, confident professional, but faced with a trip to a restaurant she’d become a shy, awkward woman. And she wasn’t even looking him in the eye.

Instinctively taking control, Stefano reached across and undid her seat belt, noticing the way she flattened herself against the seat again. ‘It isn’t fancy and this is my treat. A thank-you for having made my life easier in the department.

‘Mr Lucarelli, I really can’t—’

‘Liv, I’m buying you a bowl of spaghetti, that’s all.’ He’d never before had to persuade a woman to have dinner with him and she was obviously well aware of that fact because she shot him an agonised look.

‘There must be someone else you can take!’ Her tone bordered on the desperate and he gave a faint smile.

‘You’re not doing much for my ego. Is the thought of facing me across a bowl of spaghetti really that terrifying?’

‘No! It isn’t you, it’s me. I’m just not—’ She broke off, clearly finding the situation painfully awkward. ‘I’m not very exciting company, that’s all.’

Accustomed to being with women who were confident both socially and sexually, it took him a moment to adjust to the contrast.

He studied her face in silence, taking in the self-doubt in her eyes and the touch of colour in her cheeks. ‘Liv, what is the matter with you? Do you really expect me to believe that you can handle the most demanding medical emergency with total confidence but can’t wind spaghetti onto a fork and talk at the same time?’

She gave a reluctant laugh. ‘I suppose it’s all about practice. I’m more confident at Resus-speak than dinner-table-speak.’

‘Fine, then we’ll talk about pelvic fractures. Or we won’t talk at all. I really don’t care, just as long as I eat something in the next five minutes.’ He extracted her from the car and propelled her, still protesting, through the door of the restaurant.

They were instantly enveloped by warmth and delicious smells and Liv hesitated on the threshold, scanning the room like a gazelle sensing danger.

All evidence of the cool professional had left her and she looked so painfully unsure of herself that for a moment Stefano thought she might actually turn and run. He planted himself behind her, watching as she took in the cheerful red tablecloths, the enormous Christmas tree and the cosy, informality of the place.

Then she turned her head and gave him a hesitant smile. ‘It’s nice.’

‘Sì, I know. Just wait until you taste the pasta. It’s incredible.’ Stefano tried to peel the coat from her shoulders, but she clutched at it self consciously.

‘I’ll keep it on. I’m not dressed to go out to dinner,’ she muttered and he gently but firmly uncurled her fingers.

‘You can’t eat dinner in your coat. This is a very informal place.’ He prised the coat from her grip and handed it to the waiter. ‘No one dresses up to come here and anyway, you look fine.’

She looked a lot better than fine. Without the protection of the coat he could see that her legs went on for ever and the way that her skinny rib jumper clung to her gorgeous curves drew the attention of several men in the room, but he decided that to comment on her appearance would just make her even more uncomfortable.

She obviously had no idea how attractive she was.

Which made a refreshing change from the women he usually mixed with, he thought wryly, recalling Francine’s endless preoccupation with her own reflection.

Not wanting to risk increasing Liv’s anxiety levels by offering her a menu, he turned to the owner and spoke in rapid Italian, telling him where they wanted to sit and what they wanted to eat.

The owner led them to a quiet table by the window and Liv gave a soft gasp of delight.

‘We’re right next to the river here—I didn’t realise. It’s so pretty, especially in the dark when it’s all lit up and you can’t see the dirt.’

‘This restaurant is a hidden gem. I discovered it on a trip to London a few years ago. Because you approach it via all the back streets, you don’t realise that it’s by the Thames. What can I get you to drink? Champagne?’

‘Champagne?’ Startled, she dragged her eyes away from the view and looked at him. ‘No thanks, water will be fine.’

‘Water?’

‘I did warn you that I’m incredibly boring.’ Reaching for her napkin, she spread it on her lap. ‘Champagne is for women who don’t have to get up at five in the morning.’

‘You get up at five?’

‘If I don’t start then, I can’t get everything done.’

A waiter placed two heaped bowls of spaghetti bolognese in front of them and Liv glanced at him in surprise. ‘I didn’t know you’d ordered.’

‘This is the best thing on the menu and it’s just what you need after a day on your feet. Eat.’ He picked up his fork and then suddenly wondered if he’d ordered the wrong thing for her. ‘Just leave the pasta and eat the sauce, if you prefer.’

This time she laughed, her green eyes sparkling in the candlelight. ‘I think you’re definitely confused about who you’re having dinner with.’ She spiralled pasta onto her fork like a professional. ‘I’m a working mother, Stefano. If I don’t eat carbohydrates, I collapse. Anyway, I’m starving and this smells delicious. I couldn’t leave any of it if you paid me.’

Stefano watched her eat the first mouthful and felt an explosion of heat through his loins. ‘You must have Italian genes.’

‘No, I have a son who loves spaghetti. It’s Max’s second favourite gourmet treat.’

‘His first being?’

‘Pizza. He’d eat it every night if I let him. We make it together, from scratch. There’s nothing quite like kneading dough to let off steam after a hard day.’ Gradually she relaxed with him and he kept the conversation flowing, deriving immense satisfaction from the fact that she seemed to have lost her earlier awkwardness.

Soon she was telling him all the details of her life. They talked about work, about living in London and she mentioned Max a lot, recounting several anecdotes that made him laugh.

‘It must be pretty tiring, working a full day and then going home and being a mum.’ The amount she did in a day stunned him. ‘I don’t suppose you have much time to yourself.’

‘I don’t really want that,’ she said simply. ‘I love being with him. He’s fun. We have a nice time together. And once he’s asleep I have time to myself.’

And then she read books on coaching football.

‘So you basically work all day and spend time with your seven-year-old.’ Was that why Anna had been offering to buy her hot sex for Christmas? Stefano reached for some more bread. ‘Do you ever go out?’

‘Oh yes, we often go to one of the museums at the weekend and sometimes we’ll go to the cinema for a treat. He loves it and so do I.’

That wasn’t what he’d meant, but he didn’t push her.

Clearly her life was her work and her child and Stefano finished his spaghetti and lounged in his chair, listening as she talked about her hectic life and her hopes for Max. He was intrigued by how happy she seemed. ‘So is Max looking forward to Christmas?’

‘Yes. Not that we do much. Turkey, presents, trip to the park…’ She shrugged and added, ‘Last year we went on a trip to the seaside and played on the beach. Freezing but fun. I try and do a special trip, to make up for the fact it’s just the two of us.’

‘You don’t have family?’

‘No.’ She concentrated on her plate. ‘I only have one aunt and she lives in Scotland so I never get to see her. What about you? Will you be spending Christmas with your family?’

‘Yes. I have an interfering younger sister, an even more interfering father and at least eight first cousins.’

‘Lucky you.’ Her tone was wistful. ‘I imagine there’s nothing better than a noisy, chaotic Christmas when everyone is driving everyone else mad.’

‘You think that’s lucky?’

Liv reached for her water. ‘I suppose that the fact they interfere at least means they care. And it’s lovely to have someone who cares. The world can be a lonely, scary place.’

Did she find it scary? Was she lonely?

Sensing that to delve deeper into that comment might send her back into her shell, Stefano shifted the conversation. ‘My sister has twin boys the same age as Max.’

‘Really?’ Her face brightened. ‘That must be a handful. I can’t imagine two.’

‘She has a nanny. My sister works in the family business.’

Liv studied him across the table, her green eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. ‘And you disapprove of that?’

‘The children need her. And she doesn’t need to work.’

‘I presume you mean financially. But maybe she needs to work for other reasons.’

‘Let me ask you a question.’ He wondered how he could ever have thought she wasn’t beautiful. Her face had a pure, innocent quality but her mouth had been designed for seduction. ‘If you had all the money you needed, would you still work?’

‘I have no idea. I’ve never thought about it and I wouldn’t allow myself to because it isn’t an option for me. Happiness is being realistic, Stefano.’

Noticing that she was trying not to yawn, he caught the eye of the waiter. ‘Time to get you home.’

‘Sorry. It was a bit of an early start this morning.’ Her attention was on a different part of the restaurant and when he followed her gaze he saw that a table of women were all watching him and laughing. They were obviously enjoying a girls’ night out and one of them lifted her glass and sent a flirtatious look in his direction.

Stefano didn’t react, but Liv’s friendly, open chatter suddenly ceased and she returned to looking awkward and uncomfortable, her eyes on the view instead of him.

Why was she so self-conscious?

She’d retreated back into her shell and he knew that her reaction had something to do with the noisy group of women who were partying at the nearby table.

He was unable to retrieve the situation because the waiter arrived with the bill and stood hovering while Stefano produced his credit card.

‘Tell me how much my half is,’ Liv said huskily. ‘I’ll pay you back tomorrow. I’m so sorry I don’t have enough money with me now.’

Amused, he glanced at her. ‘When I buy a woman dinner, I don’t expect her to pay.’

‘Maybe not, but that’s when you’re on a date and this wasn’t a date. This was just two colleagues sharing food. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.’

The money was obviously an enormous issue for her and he wondered how, if she was really so short of cash, she was ever going to get her car fixed. ‘I don’t want you to pay me back. I was hungry and there’s nothing more grim than eating alone. You did me a favour.’

‘Hardly. I talked far too much about really boring subjects.’ Clearly in a hurry to leave, she rose to her feet and didn’t speak again until they reached the car. ‘Thank you, Stefano.’

‘Give me directions to your flat.’ He steered the conversation away from money. ‘Have you worked in the emergency department for long?’

‘The last few years. Before that I was on Paediatrics and sometimes when they’re short staffed I still go and help there. What about you? Where did you work last?’

‘In a trauma unit up in Scotland and before that Milan.’

‘Milan.’ She repeated the word with the same emphasis he’d used. ‘That sounds exotic.’

Stefano laughed. ‘If you think that, you have clearly never been to Milan.’

‘I’ve never been anywhere. Take a left at the lights. And then it’s straight on all the way to my flat. Just keep going. So what’s Milan like?’

‘It’s a wonderful city, but I wouldn’t describe it as exotic.’

‘Why did you choose to come to frozen England?’

‘I needed a change.’ And this was certainly a change, he thought grimly, scanning the streets. As she directed him, the area he was driving through grew more and more rundown. There was litter on the streets, graffiti on the walls and gangs of teenagers wearing hoodies lurked on street corners.

‘You were escaping from your interfering family?’

‘Something like that.’ His family and a clingy ex-girlfriend.

A police car raced past them, light flashing, horn blaring, and Stefano felt the tension in his shoulders mount. He wouldn’t want any of his family living in a place like this.

‘We’re here,’ she said a few minutes later. ‘If you pull in just past that lamppost, that’s my flat. Thanks very much.’ As the car drew to a halt, she reached for her bag. ‘I really am grateful. The meal was delicious and you’ve been very kind. See you tomorrow.’

One glance at the area told him that she shouldn’t be coming back here late at night on her own. ‘Wait.’ His hand on her arm prevented her leaving the car. ‘I’ll see you to your door.’

‘There’s really no need. I know it looks grim but I’m used to it.’ Not looking at him, Liv produced her keys. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘You’re very independent, aren’t you?’

‘I’ve had to be.’ She glanced at him then and their eyes met and held. Then she gave a tiny frown and tore her gaze away from his. ‘Goodnight, Mr Lucarelli. And thanks again.’

The chemistry was shimmering between them like an invisible force and yet her hand slid to the door.

‘Invite me in for coffee.’ His softly spoken command obviously surprised her and he watched with some satisfaction as the keys slipped from her fingers. It was nice to know she wasn’t indifferent to him. Uncomfortable, yes. Shy, maybe. But indifferent? Definitely not. ‘You’ve already told me that Max is at Anna’s tonight, so you have no bedtime story to read.’ He lounged in his seat, enjoying the effect he was having on her. She was delightfully transparent.

‘You don’t strike me as the sort of man who’d step out of his Ferrari to drink a cup of instant coffee in a damp flat that is probably smaller than your bathroom,’ she said lightly and he gave a slow smile.

‘I love instant coffee and I’m nervous in large spaces. I promise to give you a lesson on how to coach football.’

‘Now you’re being unfair.’ She laughed. ‘Mr Lucarelli—Stefano.’ She stumbled over his name and stooped to retrieve her keys, ‘That’s a really tempting offer and I really am grateful for the lift, but I’ve already taken up enough of your Friday evening. I’m sure you have plenty more exciting ways to spend your time than drinking coffee with me.’ And before he could answer, she slid out of his car and hurried across to her flat.

Stefano wondered why he was so desperate to follow her.

She had nothing, absolutely nothing, in common with the women he usually spent time with. Obviously her life revolved around her work and her son. It was almost as if she’d forgotten that she was a woman. Or maybe she just ignored that fact.

His eyes narrowed as he remembered the way she’d hung onto her coat in the restaurant. She was woman enough to care that she hadn’t dressed to go to a restaurant.

He watched as she hurried up the steps to the front door of her flat, his eyes narrowed and his body aching with awareness. She moved with the grace of a dancer and flakes of snow settled on her dark hair as she fumbled to get her key into the lock.

As the door opened she paused and Stefano waited for her to look back and smile at him.

She was going to look back. He felt it.

She stood for a moment on the threshold and then stepped inside her flat and firmly closed the door behind her.

And she didn’t look back.

Liv stood in the kitchen, willing herself not to run to the window and see if his car was still there.

Had she imagined it or had he really invited himself in for coffee?

And why had he done that?

Surely the time they’d spent together in the restaurant should have been enough to prove to him that she wasn’t exactly stimulating company. She’d talked about work and Max.

Thinking about how much she’d talked and how boring she’d been, she covered her face with her hands and gave a groan of embarrassment. Not only had she been boring, she’d been wearing her most ancient skirt and jumper. A man like Stefano Lucarelli must be used to being with women who were groomed to within an inch of their lives. And on top of that, she’d cleared her plate. She’d eaten absolutely everything and his comment about just eating the sauce had made it perfectly obvious that he was used to stick-thin women who went to restaurants to be seen, rather than to eat.

He’d offered her champagne!

Thank goodness she’d had the sense to refuse, otherwise the evening would have been even more embarrassing. As it was, he was probably regretting ever offering her a lift. Because of her stupid car, he’d been stuck with her all evening.

And he’d been incredibly kind about it. So kind that for a short time she’d completely forgotten to be shy and awkward and had really enjoyed herself.

After a while she’d even managed to forget how impossibly good-looking he was and how he absolutely shouldn’t be wasting an evening on her, and just concentrate on the conversation. And he’d been really, really good company. Although she knew it wasn’t fashionable to admit it, she loved the fact that he’d just taken charge.

He was so sure of himself and confident and wasn’t afraid to make decisions. Just having someone else make a decision for her had had the same effect as a month on a health farm.

It was just because she was a single mother, she thought wistfully. Every decision that needed to be made, she made it—by herself, with no help or input from anyone else and sometimes the unrelenting responsibility of her life was just exhausting. Yes, she was controlling, but only because she’d had to be. It was hardly surprising that when someone else did the thinking for five minutes, it had felt wonderful.

It had felt so incredibly indulgent to have a plate of food put in front of her that for a short time she’d relaxed and been herself with him. Only she’d talked far too much about her life—it was a wonder he hadn’t fallen asleep in his spaghetti.

It was just as well she’d happened to notice the table of women near to them. Made up and dressed up, they’d obviously spent half the day getting ready for their night out and they had gazed at Stefano as though they’d wanted him for their main course.

At that point she’d remembered just who she was with and she’d returned to earth quickly, reminding herself that it wasn’t a date.

He’d been with her because he was polite, not because he’d been attracted to her. For a moment in the car the atmosphere had been stretched and tight and she’d thought—she’d really thought that it was caused by mutual attraction and then she’d realised that the tension had simply been caused by him trying to find a tactful way of extracting her from his car.

Why would a man like him be interested in someone as ordinary as her? He just had well-developed social skills, that was all.

He’d only invited her to dinner because he’d been hungry and he’d been forced to give her a lift. It must have been a horribly awkward situation for him.

No wonder he’d suddenly asked for the bill, instead of lingering over dessert and coffee.

He’d obviously been desperate to escape as fast as possible.

And for her own sanity, she needed to remember that.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘LIV, you’re needed in Resus. We’ve just admitted a woman with chest pains. She had a Caesarean section seven days ago.’ Anna removed the keys to the drug cupboard from her pocket. ‘By the way, why was your car iced over in the car park this morning?’

‘It didn’t start last night. Did you say she has just had a baby?’

‘That’s right. Second baby, six-hour discharge, no problems. How did you get home if your car died?’

‘I grabbed a lift.’ Without elaborating, Liv hurried into Resus just as the paramedics left the room, pushing the empty stretcher.

‘We’re going to give you some oxygen to help you breathe, Michelle,’ Stefano was saying and he glanced up as Liv joined him by the side of the trolley. For a brief moment his dark eyes lingered on hers and that one look was sufficient to trigger memories of the explicit dreams that had disturbed her sleep the night before.

Remembering just what he’d been doing to her in those dreams, colour flooded into her cheeks and he noted her response with a slight narrowing of his sexy eyes before shifting his gaze back to the radiographer who was hovering. ‘We’ll do a chest X-ray, although I’m not sure it’s going to tell us much.’

‘I can’t breathe—I’m so worried…’ The woman’s lips were blue and Liv took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, trying to ignore the increase in her own heart rate.

It had just been a dream, for goodness’ sake. A dream he knew nothing about. Unless he could read minds, he was never going to find out that she’d been having totally inappropriate fantasies about him.

Angry with herself, Liv checked the monitor. ‘Pulse is a hundred and fifteen.’

It was totally ridiculous to feel like this. He’d given her a lift home, that was all. Trying to forget about the previous evening, she concentrated her attention on the patient. ‘How are those pains, Michelle?’

Michelle closed her eyes. ‘Worse when I breathe.’

Liv’s immediate thought was that the woman had suffered a pulmonary embolus, a clot in her lung. She looked at Stefano and he gave a brief nod of agreement, clearly reading her mind.

At least in the emergency department they were completely in tune.

‘You’re in hospital now, so try to leave the worrying to us, Michelle.’ Liv glanced over her shoulder to one of the other nurses. ‘Alice? Can you call the obstetric unit and see if they can track down her notes, please?’

‘I’ve left my husband with the kids.’ Gasping for breath, the woman was clearly frantic with worry. ‘The baby’s only a week old and I’m breastfeeding. He’s never going to cope.’

‘Is he coming to the hospital?’ Liv watched as Stefano prepared to take blood from the radial artery, his fingers swift and confident.

Michelle coughed feebly. ‘He’s supposed to be following in the car.’

‘I’m just going to take some blood from your wrist, Michelle,’ Stefano murmured. ‘This might hurt a bit.’

‘I’m worried that the baby is going to be starving.’ Tears welled up in Michelle’s eyes. ‘She has no idea how to take a bottle. Ow.’ She screwed up her face. ‘You’re right, that does hurt.’

‘Mi dispiace. I’m sorry. I know it’s uncomfortable.’ Stefano straightened. ‘I want her catheterised so that we can monitor her fluid output. Let’s give her some high-flow oxygen and we need to get a line in. Phil, I want FBC, ESR and U&Es. She has pleuritic chest pain and a pleural rub.’ He delivered a string of commands, his instructions succinct and fluent and Liv stood back for a moment so that the radiographer could do her job.

‘We’re just going to run a few tests on you, Michelle, and then I promise I’ll go and talk to your husband. If necessary I can fetch someone from the obstetric unit to help with the baby.’

Michelle pressed a hand to her chest, her breath coming in shallow pants. ‘I’ve never felt anything like this before. It feels as though I’m being stabbed.’

‘The chest X-ray looks completely normal,’ Phil muttered and Stefano’s dark eyes flickered to the screen. For a brief moment all his attention was focused on the image and everyone in the room looked at him expectantly.

Liv glanced at the monitor again. ‘Sats are dropping,’ she murmured and reached for the ECG machine.

‘The clinical signs are all consistent with a diagnosis of PE,’ Stefano reached out a hand to take a set of results that one of the nurses was flourishing in his direction. He scanned them quickly and then put them on top of the notes. ‘She’s seven days post-Caesarean section, which is a major risk factor. Let’s give her a dose of tinzaparin.’

Liv checked Michelle’s blood pressure again. ‘Her pulse is a hundred and ten and she’s hypotensive.’ She turned back to the patient. ‘Michelle, I just want to do a trace of your heart so I’m going to undo your shirt and attach some wires to your chest.’

‘Has my husband arrived?’ Michelle’s breathing was shallow and rapid. ‘Could you find out? It’s really worrying me.’

‘Rachel?’ Liv spoke over her shoulder. ‘Can you go to the desk and ask them to tell us as soon as Michelle’s family arrive? Put them in the relatives’ room and make sure they have everything they need. I’ll be with them as soon as I can.’

Michelle gave a strangled laugh. ‘I can’t be in hospital. I have a new baby and it’s Christmas in a couple of weeks.’

‘Don’t worry about that, now,’ Liv soothed, her eyes on the ECG. ‘Stefano?’

‘Sì, I am looking.’ His eyes narrowed, he studied the trace. ‘Get ICU on the phone for me. And I want 10 milligrams of alteplase as a starting dose. Let’s arrange for a CT scan.’

It was another hour before Michelle was finally transferred to ICU and only then did Liv and Stefano go and talk to her husband.

They found him pacing the relatives’ room, holding a bawling baby against his shoulder while a toddler clung to his leg.

‘How is she? The other nurse said she was being transferred.’ White-faced with anxiety, he stepped towards Stefano and the baby’s screams intensified, as if the infant sensed that something important was happening. The father rubbed her back helplessly. ‘Sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do with her. I think she’s hungry and I can’t get her to take the bottle. Michelle expressed some milk last night and left it in the fridge, so it isn’t that it tastes different but I think she just isn’t used to the teat, or something.’

‘Why don’t I have a try?’ Liv held out her arms. ‘Then you can have a proper conversation with Mr Lucarelli. I’m sure there are lots of things you want to ask him.’

‘Would you mind?’ Gently and slightly clumsily he lifted the baby from his shoulder and handed her to Liv. ‘You forget how tiny they are when they’re first born. It’s terrifying.’

Liv expertly snuggled the baby against her and reached for the bottle, leaving Stefano to update Nick on his wife’s condition.

She sat down in the chair, settled the baby in the crook of her arm and drew the teat across her lips. ‘You poor little thing,’ she murmured softly. ‘Are you starving?’

The baby was red-faced from crying and gave a little hiccough. Then she played with the teat for a moment before turning her head away in disgust.

‘I know it feels a bit weird, but it tastes just the same. Trust me.’ Liv squeezed a tiny bit of the milk onto the baby’s lips and watched as her mouth moved hungrily. ‘See? It tastes nice. We just need to teach you to suck.’ She skilfully manoeuvred the teat into the baby’s mouth and the infant lay still for a moment, and then gave a gulp and swallowed. Liv smiled. ‘Good girl.’

‘Oh thank goodness,’ Nick muttered, watching from across the room. ‘She’s been crying for hours. I was at my wits’ end. You are utterly, utterly amazing.’

Liv glanced up and met Stefano’s eyes and there was something in his watchful gaze that made her shift awkwardly in her seat.

What was he thinking?

Probably that she was good with babies but hopeless at scintillating dinner conversation.

Still mortified that she’d gone on and on the night before, she dipped her head and concentrated on the baby. ‘She’s fine. She just needed a bit of help to suck from a teat. It’s a different technique.’

Nick gave a helpless shrug. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy moving in with me for a week or so?’

Liv gently withdrew the bottle from the baby’s mouth and lifted the baby against her shoulder. ‘What about Grandma? Can she help?’

‘She’s great with this one…’ Nick scooped the toddler onto his lap ‘…but the baby needs Michelle.’

Stefano rose to his feet. ‘Let’s see how she goes this morning. Once her condition is stabilised we may be able to transfer her to a ward and she can have the baby with her. We’ll do everything we can to help, I assure you.’

‘You’ve been very kind.’

The door opened and Anna put her head round the door. ‘Liv? Can Rachel take over in there so that you can help me out here? Everyone is obviously bored with Christmas shopping so they’ve decided to spend the afternoon with us instead.’

‘No problem.’ Liv carefully handed the baby back to Nick and smiled at him. ‘You can stay here for now. Once we have some news from ICU, you can go and see Michelle.’

She left the room and hurried after Anna but Stefano’s fingers curled around her wrist and stopped her.

‘Liv, wait.’

The touch of his hand turned her limbs to jelly and she took several deep breaths before turning to face him. This time she was not going to embarrass herself. ‘Thank you for last night,’ she said brightly, staring at a point in the middle of his chest. ‘Best spaghetti I’ve ever eaten. Oh—here’s the money I owe you.’ She dug twenty pounds out of her pocket, trying not to think what that bowl of spaghetti had done to her budget.

‘I don’t want your money, Liv.’ His voice was a deep, lazy drawl and the breath stuck in her throat because he was so cool and in control and she felt so, so awkward.

‘Please take it. Honestly. There’s no reason why you should pay for me.’ She risked a glance at him and then wished she hadn’t because he was the sort of man you just couldn’t look away from. He was impossibly, indecently handsome and his gaze held hers for a moment and then flickered to her mouth.

Liv stopped breathing and a slow, dangerous warmth spread through her body. For a wickedly delicious moment she thought he might actually be wondering what it would be like to kiss her.

And then she returned to reality.

Boring.

His eyes narrowed. ‘What would be boring?’

Horrified, Liv stared at him. Had she really spoken her thoughts aloud? ‘Nothing. Take the money.’ She pushed it into his hand and started to back away. ‘I really have to go. Anna needs me, and—’

‘Liv, stop it.’ His eyes were amused. ‘Why are you so jumpy? Last night over dinner you managed to relax and be yourself. For the first time I actually had a glimpse of the real you.’

Liv almost groaned. ‘Yes, I know,’ she muttered, ‘and I’m really, really sorry about that. I suppose it’s because I don’t often find myself in adult company, apart from with the patients and they don’t count. I was a little carried away talking about my life. No wonder you only ordered one course.’

Surprise flickered in his eyes and he watched her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. ‘I ordered one course because most of the women I take out to dinner don’t eat anything,’ he said softly and she gave a resigned smile.

If she’d needed a reminder that she bore no resemblance to the type of woman he usually dated, she had it now. ‘Well, you only have to look at me to know that I’m not in that category—but then you weren’t really taking me out to dinner, were you? It was more a question of me gatecrashing and—’ she broke off and studied his face. ‘Why are you smiling?’

‘Because you fascinate me. In Resus you are always cool and in control. You are fast, bright and confident. And then we leave Resus and you are a nervous wreck. Why is that, I wonder?’

The way he was looking at her made her feel hot and shivery at the same time.

‘I…really ought to go, because…’ horribly out of her depth, she waved a hand vaguely. ‘I…just really ought to go.’ Why was he talking to her, anyway? Why was he bothering?

‘Give me your car keys.’

‘My—’ She frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Because someone from my garage is coming to pick up your car in ten minutes.’

Liv stared at him in astonishment. ‘Your garage? But they fix Ferraris.’

‘They’re skilled mechanics.’ Stefano inclined his head as the neurology consultant wandered past and muttered a greeting. ‘They can fix anything with an engine.’

‘I’m not sure that mine even falls into that category,’ Liv joked weakly, incredibly touched that he’d offered. Why? Why had he offered? ‘I couldn’t possibly say yes. Even if they could fix it, they’d charge a fortune. Garages take one look at me and rip me off.’

‘All the more reason to let me sort this one out. Garages don’t rip me off.’ His tone was pleasant but there was a hard glint in his eyes that made her smile.

‘I imagine they wouldn’t dare.’ Panic fluttered inside her when she thought about all the demands on her meagre salary. ‘I suppose I could use the Christmas-tree money.’ She murmured those words to herself and Stefano raised an eyebrow in question.

‘The Christmas-tree money?’

Trying to work out how to find a Christmas tree that didn’t cost anything, Liv felt her head start to throb. ‘Look, I hadn’t expected my car to die three weeks before Christmas, which obviously wasn’t very sensible planning on my part, but there you are. I basically can’t afford to get it fixed yet.’ What was the point in pretending? It was obvious from the state of her car that she wasn’t rolling in money. ‘But thanks for offering.’

‘How much is your budget?’

‘A hundred pounds.’ Saying it aloud, it sounded so ridiculous that Liv started to laugh. ‘You see? It’s hopeless. I doubt they’d even tow it away for that.’

‘It might not be anything too serious. Let’s wait and see what they say. My mechanic is cheap and reliable.’ His eyes lingered on her face and she felt her insides heat.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘You say yes.’

Faced with the tempting vision of a problem solved, Liv felt herself waver. ‘If it’s more than a hundred pounds—’

‘Then I’ll tell them not to do the work. Now give me the keys.’ He held out his hand. ‘Keys, Liv.’

She handed them over. ‘I don’t know why you’re helping me.’

‘I know you don’t.’ With that enigmatic comment, he strolled away from her, her car keys in his hand, leaving her staring after him in bemusement.

‘I don’t care how much it costs.’ Stefano trawled through his emails as he made the call. ‘I just want it fixed. Fast. And I want the bill to say £102.’ He listened for a moment as the mechanic outlined the dire state of Liv’s car. ‘Yes, I know all that. I have eyes… I don’t care about that, either… A new engine—yes, whatever, and there’s one other thing.’ He frowned as he scanned the email from the chief executive demanding his presence at a meeting on cost-cutting. ‘I want you to deliver a hire car here this afternoon. A new, safe hatchback, nothing too flashy.’ Having sorted out that problem, he terminated the call and turned to the pile of letters on his desk, but he was called to see a patient and then another and it was several hours before he was finally able to return to the mounting paperwork.

He was just trying to work up some enthusiasm for an extremely dry memo from the Department of Health when there was a tap on the door.

Liv stood there, a set of keys in her hand. ‘The garage delivered me a car,’ she gasped. ‘Did you arrange it?’

Stefano relaxed back in his chair, watching her. ‘They always give a complimentary car. Perhaps I forgot to mention that.’

‘When they’re servicing your Ferrari, maybe, but not when they’re given an ancient rust bucket to resuscitate.’

‘It’s Christmas. I told them that you have a child and that you work at the hospital. People are extra-kind to nurses and rightly so. Just accept it, Liv.’ His order was met by silence and she simply stared at him. Then she gave a little sob and suddenly burst into tears.

Appalled, Stefano rose to his feet. ‘Accidenti, who has upset you? Tell me and I will sort it out right now!’

‘No one. Nothing. I’m sorry.’ She rubbed the palm of her hand across one cheek and then the other, wiping away the tears, visibly struggling to pull herself together. ‘It’s just that I’m not used to—I usually have to sort out everything myself. I’m not used to people being kind and—I can’t believe you persuaded them to lend me a car.’ Her voice cracked. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’

Frozen to the spot, Stefano watched her, uncertain how to respond. Usually female tears left him cold, but he’d never encountered the genuine article before. Neither had he ever been so profusely thanked for so small a gesture. He’d once given Francine a diamond necklace, but even that extravagant gift had merited little more than a loud squeal and a comment that matching earrings would have been nice.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said softly and Liv gave him an embarrassed smile and pulled a tissue out of her pocket.

‘I seem to make a habit of making a fool of myself in front of you.’ She blew her nose hard. ‘You’re probably thinking I’m a complete psycho.’

He thought she was delightfully natural, refreshingly honest and achingly sexy. ‘I think you’re tired, and that is hardly surprising given how hard you work.’

‘I like my work.’

And in her time off, she read to her child. Books on cars and football.

He’d never met anyone as selfless as her. Sensing that she was struggling for control, Stefano shifted the subject away from the personal. ‘I just spoke to ICU. Michelle is stable.’

Liv’s face brightened. ‘That’s good news. How’s the baby?’

‘Taking the bottle quite happily since the lesson you gave her.’

Liv laughed and he couldn’t help comparing her confidence at work with her lack of confidence in her social life.

‘Have dinner with me tonight.’ He’d spoken those words on umpteen occasions in the past, but never before had he braced himself for rejection. Up until this point in his life it had been a foregone conclusion that the woman in question would just say yes.

As he’d anticipated, Liv instantly shook her head. ‘I couldn’t possibly. Why? Why would you want to?’

He was asking himself the same question. He’d never before dated a colleague or a single mother.

Neither had he found himself thinking about sex at inconvenient moments during his working day. ‘I owe you dessert.’

Liv backed towards the door. ‘You don’t owe me anything.’

Unaccustomed to having to persuade a woman to join him for dinner, Stefano watched her for a moment, trying to read her mind. ‘Is it a babysitting issue?’

‘Yes.’ She said the word quickly and then breathed out and shook her head. ‘No, actually that’s not true. It isn’t just about the babysitting. It’s about me. And you. I mean, you found out everything there is to know about me last night. You’ve already listened to my entire life history and I’m sure it bored you to death. I don’t have anything else to say. I work, I spend time with my child. That’s it. I’m just not interesting. You already know all there is to know.’

He was stunned by the completely false impression she had of herself.

Why did she think she was boring?

Contemplating the soft curve of her mouth and the shyness in her expression, Stefano strolled across his office towards her. He watched as her eyes widened slightly.

‘Mr Lucarelli—Stefano…’

Without speaking, Stefano took her face in his hands, stared down into her startled green eyes for a few endless seconds and then brought his mouth down on hers. For a moment she didn’t move a muscle, and then she made a soft sound and her lips parted under his.

He kissed her slowly and confidently, taking his time, holding her head exactly as he wanted it as he skilfully seduced her mouth. Only when her fingers curled into the front of his shirt and he felt her relax against him did he slide an arm around her waist and pull her into his body.

Boring?

She was exquisite.

Her hips were curved, her breasts full and the sudden explosion of raw lust that devoured him was so powerful that it took all his willpower to stop himself from slamming the door shut and just taking her on his desk.

Unsettled by the fierce intensity of his own response, Stefano dragged his mouth from hers and eased her away from him.

Liv swayed for a moment and then opened her eyes and looked at him. Her expression was so bemused that he suddenly wondered exactly how long it had been since anyone had kissed her properly.

‘There’s plenty that I don’t know about you, Liv,’ he said softly, dragging his thumb over the swollen softness of her mouth. ‘But I intend to find out.’

CHAPTER SIX

‘MUMMY, why are you staring out of the window and smiling?’

Liv turned at the sound of Max’s voice. ‘Oh…’ she cleared her throat and picked up her coffee-mug. It was Saturday morning and she’d been up since dawn. ‘I was just…thinking.’ About being kissed. It wasn’t the first time she’d been kissed, but it seemed that way. Unless her memory was defective, it had never felt like that.

Stefano Lucarelli kissed as well as he did everything else.

Max shook the contents of the cereal packet into his bowl and looked at her sympathetically. ‘Are you worrying that Father Christmas might not come? I know how he gets round the whole world in one night.’

‘You do?’ Why had he kissed her? She didn’t understand it, but it was impossible to erase the memory from her brain or her body. And he’d said that he wanted to know more about her. What had he meant by that?

‘Mum? Are you listening?’

‘I’m listening.’

‘It’s because he travels through different time zones,’ Max said seriously. ‘You know, he starts in Australia, then he moves on to…’ swinging his legs, he carried on detailing Father Christmas’s route while Liv tried desperately to stop thinking about Stefano.

With a huge effort, she brought herself back to reality. ‘OK. I’ll stop worrying about Father Christmas’s workload. So—plan for the day. Football in the park and then we’ll buy the Christmas tree. How does that sound?’

‘Brilliant.’ Max crunched his way through the cereal and drank his milk. ‘Pizza for tea?’

Liv laughed. Why was she feeling so happy? It was completely ridiculous, but she just couldn’t help it. Determined to pull herself together, she rose to her feet. ‘I’ll make the dough now. You can help. Wash your hands.’

‘Hayley’s mum won’t let her make pizza dough because she says it makes a mess.’ Max reached for the weighing scales and lifted the flour out of the cupboard. ‘I told her that you love mess.’

‘Mess and I are certainly intimately acquainted,’ Liv said dryly, glancing around her kitchen and wondering why it never stayed tidy.

Because she was happy to let her son make pizza dough.

Max emptied some flour onto the weighing scales. ‘Oops.’ He stood back as some of it sprinkled over his toes. ‘You can do the water.’

The doorbell rang just as Max plunged his fingers into the gooey mixture.

‘That will be the postman.’ Liv wiped her hands and walked towards the door. She was still in her pyjamas, her hair was tumbling loose past her shoulders and her feet were bare, but as she had no intention of stepping outside, she decided that it didn’t matter.

Keeping her body out of sight, she opened the door, a cheerful smile on her face as she popped her head round.

Stefano Lucarelli stood there, a large white box in his hands and a cool, confident look on his handsome face. He was wearing a long black coat over jeans and a chunky roll-neck jumper that brushed against the blue shadow of his jaw.

‘Buongiorno.’

Memories of that amazing kiss came flooding back with disturbing clarity and for a moment she wondered whether he was real or whether her mind had conjured him up because she’d been thinking of him all morning. Was he a product of wishful thinking?

‘What are you doing here?’ Liv winced as she listened to herself. It was no wonder she was single. ‘I’m sorry. That sounded rude. It’s just that I—’ He looked far too good to be standing in her doorway.

‘Invite me in.’ His silken command left her more flustered than ever.

‘You must be joking.’ She thought of the pyjamas she was wearing. ‘Why would you want to come in?’

‘Because I don’t want to eat dessert on my own.’

Her gaze shifted from the gleam in his eyes to the box in his hands. ‘You brought me dessert?’

‘Belgian chocolate log, complete with whipped cream.’

Liv started to laugh. ‘It’s ten o’clock in the morning.’

Stefano gave a dismissive shrug. ‘If you’re going to commit a sin, you may as well get it over with early in the day.’ His Italian accent somehow made the words seem more sinful than the subject and the way he was looking at her made her insides turn to liquid.

‘You can’t possibly come in,’ she said in a strangled voice. ‘If you leave your Ferrari there, it will be gone when you leave. And anyway, I’m still in my pyjamas.’

‘Are you? You probably shouldn’t have told me that.’ His gaze focused on her for a moment. ‘You have amazing hair. I had no idea it was so long.’

His words were so unexpected that everything she’d been about to say fizzled and died in her head. He liked her hair?

No, of course he didn’t. How could he possibly? ‘Now, you’re being ridiculous,’ she said gruffly. ‘I look as though I just crawled out of bed.’

‘Precisely.’ His low, sexy drawl somehow connected to every nerve ending in her body.

Scarlet with embarrassment, she kept her body behind the door. ‘I can’t let you in.’

He smiled. ‘Yes, you can.’ He stepped forward and nudged at the door with his powerful shoulders.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Blasting you out of your comfort zone.’ He strolled into her flat, pushed the door shut and scanned her body with a single glance. ‘Nice pyjamas.’ Amusement shimmered in his dark eyes. ‘Pink baby elephants are absolutely my favourite animal.’

Aware that only a thin layer of cotton lay between his disturbingly thorough gaze and her naked body, Liv tried to cover herself and then realised the futility of the gesture and gave up. Why was life so unfair? When he’d taken her to dinner she’d been wearing her most ancient skinny rib jumper and now he’d arrived at her flat and she was dressed in cosy pyjamas that clung to her bottom and did nothing to hide the generous proportion of her top half.

Why couldn’t she have been wearing a skimpy lacy number?

Because skimpy lacy numbers were designed for sex and seduction, not sleep.

She was about to make an excuse and vanish into her bedroom when Max emerged from the kitchen, trailing dough behind him.

‘Did the postman bring something, Mum?’

‘No.’ Suddenly confronted by an issue far more serious than her choice of nightwear, Liv cleared her throat and tried to work out how best to explain the presence of a strange man in their hallway without upsetting Max.

She never brought men home.

But she didn’t have to explain because Stefano took over. ‘I work with your mother.’ He dropped to his haunches and smiled at the child. ‘Is that pizza dough you’re wearing?’

Max grinned. ‘It sort of just sticks everywhere.’

Stefano nodded with understanding. ‘You could try using a little less water.’

Max considered that advice for a moment and then looked at Liv. ‘You’re adding too much water, Mum.’

Liv smiled weakly. ‘That’s probably where I’m going wrong.’ She watched nervously as her son gave Stefano the once over.

‘Are you staying for breakfast?’ He peered at the box, his face brightening. ‘What is that? Is it a present?’

‘Max!’

But Stefano simply smiled and rose to his feet. ‘It is a present. An edible present.’ He handed the box to Liv. ‘I heard that your mother likes dessert.’

Max was jumping up and down, sending pizza dough flying everywhere. ‘She loves dessert but we don’t often have it because she says it makes her fat. Can I see? Is it chocolate?’

Liv held the box in front of her like armour. ‘I really need to get dressed,’ she began, but Max was tugging her towards the kitchen.

‘You look great, Mum,’ he said earnestly. ‘Why would you want to get changed? They’re my favourite pyjamas. They’re just so happy.’

Intercepting Stefano’s laughing gaze, Liv closed her eyes.

Great.

The sexiest man alive was standing in her tiny hallway and she was wearing ‘happy’ pyjamas.

Why was he doing this? Why was he here?

Didn’t he have anywhere better to be on a cold, sunny Saturday in December?

Max was giggling. ‘This is awesome. Mum won’t usually let me eat dessert unless I’ve finished my vegetables and I’ve never had dessert for breakfast before.’

They moved through to the tiny kitchen and Stefano instantly made himself at home, pulling out a chair and helping himself to a glass of orange juice.

Liv watched him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what he’d make of her tiny kitchen. But he didn’t appear interested in anything other than Max.

‘You need to cut the ribbon.’ Picking up a knife, he leaned forward and sliced through the ribbon. The box fell open to reveal a beautiful chocolate log, dusted with icing and decorated with a snowman.

Max sank onto his chair, speechless. ‘Wow. Have you seen it, Mum?’

‘I’ve seen it, sweetheart.’ And she didn’t even want to imagine how many calories would be in a single slice.

‘It’s amazing.’

‘I hope so.’ Stefano picked up the knife. ‘Would you like the piece from the end? There’s more chocolate on that piece.’ He sliced through the cake in a typically decisive fashion and Liv turned to put on the kettle, her mind working overtime.

Was he charming Max to get to her?

No, of course not. He wasn’t interested in her. Why would he be interested in her?

But he was in her flat on his day off.

Her head was full of questions, but she didn’t dare ask any of them while Max was there so she made a fresh pot of coffee and placed it in front of Stefano with an awkward smile.

‘It isn’t Italian. Cuban, I think.’

He leaned back in his chair and lifted an eyebrow. ‘What happened to the instant?’

‘Fresh coffee is my Saturday morning treat.’ Liv raked her fingers through her long hair and then wished she hadn’t because the gesture drew his gaze and she froze, sensing a shift in the mood and the atmosphere.

‘We’re going to play football in the park.’ Aware that the adults were distracted, Max slid his hand towards the cake and transferred another piece onto his plate. ‘Are you going to come?’

‘Max!’ Embarrassed and horrified, Liv dragged her gaze away from Stefano’s and poured coffee into two mugs. ‘Mr Lucarelli can’t—I mean, he’s very busy and he has to go in a minute and—’

‘No, I don’t. I’d love to play football.’ Stefano stretched his long legs out in front of him and winked at the boy. ‘As long as you are gentle with me. It’s a long time since I played.’

‘Do you like football?’

‘I’m Italian,’ Stefano pointed out. ‘All Italians are born loving pizza, football and fast cars.’

‘Perhaps I’m Italian.’ For a moment Max forgot about the chocolate cake. ‘Do you have a fast car?’

‘Very fast.’ Stefano smiled and Liv sat down opposite him, nursing her mug in her hands, watching as Max chatted.

‘Cool. I’d love to drive it but I’m not old enough yet. I’m trying to make it into the first team at school. Mum’s coaching me.’

‘I’m not sure I’d exactly describe it as coaching.’ Liv removed the remains of the chocolate log before Max was tempted to take a third slice. ‘That was delicious. Thank you, Stefano.’

‘Awesome.’ Max watched wistfully as she put the cake away. ‘Can we eat the rest later? After we’ve played football, we’re going to buy our Christmas tree.’

Liv watched her son, her heart in her mouth. He was so, so trusting and while that was lovely in a way, it also terrified her. Despite not having a father, his little life had been stable and secure. She’d made sure of it. He didn’t even remember Jack and he had no idea how much pain and anguish lurked out there in the world.

He had no idea what it felt like to be hurt.

Suddenly she felt a rush of protectiveness and for the first time since Stefano had knocked on her door, her voice was steady. ‘Max, go and get changed. And spend ten minutes tidying your room.’

‘But—’

‘Untidy room, no football.’

With an exaggerated groan, Max slid off the chair and huffed his way out of the kitchen.

Liv closed the door behind him and Stefano’s eyes narrowed.

‘I sense I’m in trouble,’ he said softly. ‘Was it the chocolate log?’

‘I need to know what you’re doing here.’ She stood with her back to the door, wishing she’d changed out of her pyjamas before she’d started this conversation. ‘And don’t tell me you were just bringing me dessert.’

‘You refused my dinner invitation.’

‘And you always bring breakfast round to women who refuse you?’ When he didn’t answer immediately, she gave a hollow laugh. ‘Oh, don’t tell me—no one has ever said no to you before. Is that what is going on here? Is it a pursuit thing? Is this about your ego, Stefano?’

He stirred. ‘I don’t have a problem with my ego.’ He placed his mug back on the table in a deliberate movement. ‘But I do enjoy your company.’

She thought about that comment for a moment and then let out a little breath and lifted a hand to her hair. ‘Stefano, we both know that there are a million women out there who would give their entire salary to have breakfast with you. Women who are thinner and much more interesting than I am. So what I want to know is—what are you doing in my kitchen?’

‘I heard a rumour that you wore pink elephant pyjamas.’

‘Why are you joking?’

‘Whyareyou so lacking in confidence?’ His voice was soft. ‘Why is it so unlikely that I would seek out your company?’

Liv looked at him in exasperation, aware that Max could remerge at any moment. ‘Do I really have to spell it out?’

‘Yes, I think you probably do.’ Eyes narrowed, he watched her. ‘I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.’

‘You’re dealing with someone ordinary, that’s what you’re dealing with. I try to be a good mother and I hope I’m a good nurse, but I’m not interesting and I’m certainly not sexy. I’ve had a child.’ Listening to herself, she gave a groan and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with you.’

‘How could you possibly believe that you’re not sexy?’

‘Because I have a perfectly good mirror in my bedroom.’ Liv forced herself to look him in the eye. ‘I honestly don’t know what you want from me. If it’s sex, and I can’t imagine for a moment that it would be,’ she added hastily, ‘then it’s only fair to warn you that it’s been so long since I did it, I’m not sure I can even remember how. I can guarantee that it would be the most crashing disappointment of your life. Don’t waste your time. I—I’m orinary, Stefano.’ The way he was looking at her made her hot and shivery at the same time.

‘If you don’t think you’re sexy then there is clearly something wrong with your mirror.’ His dark gaze lingered on her face. ‘And I don’t find you in the least bit “ordinary”. You are warm, kind, independent and unselfishly devoted to your child. That makes you extraordinary, Liv, not ordinary.’

‘Stefano—’

‘I’m not here because you said no to me, I’m here because I enjoy your company and I want to spend the day with you. Do I want to have sex with you?’ He gave a slow smile and a fatalistic lift of his broad shoulders. ‘Yes, of course, I do. And if you have forgotten how then don’t worry, I will remind you.’

‘Stefano!’

‘You’re being honest, so I will be the same. I am Italian and you are extremely sexy. But I’m willing to delay that part until you feel a little more comfortable with me. Then we’ll see. Perhaps you will decide you’d like hot sex for Christmas after all.’

The colour poured into her cheeks and she closed her eyes. ‘So you did overhear our conversation.’

‘Anna has a loud voice.’

‘And she was voicing her own opinions, not mine,’ Liv said in a strangled voice. ‘I can’t think of anything more horrifying than having hot sex with you—’

‘Grazie.’

She covered her face with her hands. ‘That didn’t come out the way I meant it to come out. You must know how attractive you are—you don’t need me to tell you that. It’s just that—’

‘You’re a nervous wreck,’ he said, watching her with a faint hint of amusement in his lazy dark eyes. Unlike her, he was totally at ease with the conversation and with himself.

Her hands dropped to her sides and she gave a little shake of her head, knowing that whatever happened nothing would give her the courage to take her clothes off in front of this man.

‘You don’t want to go to a bed with a woman who eats chocolate log at ten in the morning.’

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. ‘If you think that, tesoro…’ he breathed gently ‘…then you truly know nothing about men. Being tempted by chocolate log in the morning, suggests a hedonistic, passionate nature and a real enjoyment of the good things in life. I look forward to uncovering more of this hidden side to you.’

The thought of him uncovering a single inch of her made her shrink with mortification, but at the same time her pulse was racing and her entire body was warm.

‘Do you want to come and play football?’ If there was one thing guaranteed to stop him looking at her in the way he was, it would be the sight of her shivering in goal with pink cheeks and blue lips.

He rose to his feet. ‘Now that’s an invitation I definitely can’t refuse.’

It was the most entertaining day he’d had since his arrival in England.

The ground was hard and covered by frost, but Max sped down the field with the ball and kicked it into the goal. With whoops of joy he retrieved the ball and threw it to Stefano.

‘Did you see me? Did you see me?’ He was dancing on the spot with excitement and Stefano grinned.

‘Great shot. But watch the position of your body,’ he instructed, lining up the ball and demonstrating. ‘Now you try.’

Max paused, distracted by two fire engines that raced along the nearby road, lights flashing, horns blaring. ‘Wow,’ he breathed, ‘they’re going so fast.’

Stefano glanced at them briefly and then took the opportunity to look at Liv.

She was standing in goal, occasionally shouting encouragement to her son. Her hands were in her pockets to keep them warm and she always seemed to move a few seconds after the ball had landed in the goal, but she was clearly doing her best.

And it was obvious that she hated football.

Stefano felt something shift inside him.

Offhand he couldn’t think of a single other woman who would be prepared to spend an entire Saturday shivering, while a small boy kicked a ball into a net.

Yet she hadn’t complained once, despite the fact that she was obviously freezing cold.

She’d changed out of her pyjamas into a thick wool sweater and a pair of jeans, but even with her wool coat and the addition of a thick scarf, he knew that she wasn’t moving around enough to be able to stay warm. Her cheeks were pink, her lips were blue and suddenly he wanted to tackle her to the ground and warm her up in the most basic way known to man.

‘Time for a break,’ he called to both of them and together they strolled back towards the flat. Stefano was just wondering how to take the two of them out for lunch without triggering Liv’s independent streak, when she gave a strangled cry.

‘Oh no! Stefano, no! Those fire engines we saw—the fire is in our block of flats!’

Stefano turned his head and saw smoke and flames engulfing the building with horrifying speed. Two fire engines were parked outside and were tackling the blaze but even as they watched there was a small explosion and glass blew out of two upstairs windows.

With a horrified gasp, Liv started to run towards the flats and Stefano reached out and caught her arm in an iron grip. Her eyes still on her home, Liv tugged and tried to free herself but he closed his hands over her shoulders, holding her fast.

‘No. You can’t go in there. There’s nothing you can do.’ His tone was harsher than he’d intended but it seemed to have the desired effect because she stopped pulling and sagged against him.

‘Our home. All our things…’ Her voice was a helpless whisper and Max give a little sob and curled his fist into her coat for reassurance.

‘Has our home gone, Mummy? Has it gone?’

‘Oh, baby!’ Forgetting her own anguish, she pulled away from Stefano and dropped to her knees, folding her son into her arms and squeezing him tightly. ‘It’s going to be fine, you’ll see. It’s just a little problem, but we can solve it together like we always do. Don’t you worry.’ Putting her own feelings to one side, she thought only of Max and Stefano watched in silence, at a loss to know what to say in the face of her personal disaster.

Remembering her reaction to the car, he knew how enormous this would be for her. But instead of falling apart and turning to him for support, she kept her emotions in check and concentrated on her child.

‘Where will we live? Where will we sleep?’ Max was crying now and he wrapped his arms round her neck and hung on tightly, clinging to his mother.

Stefano, who could never remember crying in his entire adult life, found that he had a lump in his throat.

‘Hush. Hush now,’ Liv said gently, ‘that’s enough. Stop crying.’ She eased him away from her and forced him to look at her. ‘I’ll fix it. You know I’ll fix it.’

Even though everything she owned was in the building, currently being greedily devoured by flames, she held it together and the hand that stroked her son’s head was remarkably steady.

Max’s eyes swam. ‘My toys are in there,’ he choked, ‘and my special moon and stars bed cover and my geography colouring.’

Stefano watched as Liv somehow conjured up a magical smile full of confidence and reassurance. ‘Well, I’m willing to bet that Mr Thompson hasn’t heard that excuse before for not handing in homework on time. I think he just might forgive you, this once.’ Her tone was light and she leaned forward and kissed Max several times. ‘It’s people that matter, sweetheart, not things. Remember that. Things aren’t important. They can always be replaced. We have each other, and that’s all that really matters.’ But although her words were brave and seemed to reassure Max, her face was as white as a winter frost and her eyes were blank with shock.

He needed to get both of them away from here.

Stefano was about to take charge when she straightened, still holding Max’s hand.

‘There’s no point in standing here watching.’ Her voice was steady and strong. ‘It’s upsetting for Max. There’s a coffee-shop round the corner. I’ll take him there while I ring the insurance company and work out what to do. They’re going to have to arrange for us to stay somewhere tonight.’

A flicker of movement in the flats caught Stefano’s eye. ‘Liv—there’s someone up there. One flat below yours.’

Still holding tightly to Max’s hand, Liv followed the direction of his gaze. ‘It’s Emma,’ she breathed in horror. ‘She’s eleven. Where’s her mother? Why are they still in there?’

‘She needs to get down on the floor,’ Max muttered, pressing himself against Liv’s leg. ‘We were taught that in school. Smoke rises, so you need to get down on the floor.’

Stefano glanced at Liv. He didn’t want to leave her, but she clearly read his mind because she gave him a push.

‘We’re fine. Go. Be careful.’

‘Stay here,’ Stefano ordered. ‘Call an ambulance, Liv. At the very least she’s going to suffer from smoke inhalation.’

By the time he’d identified himself to the crew, two firemen in breathing apparatus had appeared from the building carrying the child.

Swiftly Stefano carried out an initial assessment. ‘Do we have any idea of the nature of the materials in her flat? Furniture, polyurethane foam?’

Liv appeared by his side, as cool and composed as she always was in a medical crisis. There was nothing to indicate that her own home had been one of those destroyed. ‘Emma?’ She stroked the child’s hair gently. ‘It’s Liv, from upstairs—how are you feeling, sweetheart?’

‘I didn’t hear anything,’ the little girl said hoarsely and then gave a choking cough. ‘I was asleep.’ She made a whistling sound as she inhaled and Stefano saw Liv glance at him.

‘She has a degree of stridor. Do you want to intubate her?’

‘I want to give her oxygen and get her to hospital. If I have to intubate her, I will, but this obviously isn’t the best place.’ Stefano cursed mentally, aware that Liv’s home was burning behind him and he was going to have to make a difficult choice. The shriek of an ambulance siren announced the arrival of the paramedics.

‘Max and I will follow in the car,’ Liv said immediately. ‘We might be able to help and at least we’ll be able to give you a lift back here.’

Stefano thrust a hand in his pocket and withdrew his keys. ‘Use my car.’

‘You’re joking.’ Her expression was comical. ‘I can’t drive a Ferrari. I’ll take the hire car and we can collect yours later.’

At that moment there was a piercing scream and a woman dropped her shopping and ran towards them. Food spilled over the pavement and a milk carton split and slowly leaked its contents into the gutter. ‘Emma!’ The woman stared at the stretcher and then put her hands to her mouth. ‘Oh my God—is she? Is she—?’

About to transfer the child to the ambulance, Stefano cast a meaningful look in Liv’s direction. She slid her arm round the woman, supporting and restraining her so that she didn’t obstruct the transfer of her daughter into the ambulance.

‘Emma’s all right, Susan. But she’s breathed in some of the smoke so we need to take her to the hospital. You can follow in the car with us.’

Susan looked over her shoulder at the smouldering building. ‘Our home…’

‘Let’s worry about Emma first.’ Liv didn’t even glance towards her flat, but Susan started to sob.

‘I’ve lost everything. Everything. All my Christmas presents were in there and I certainly can’t afford to buy another lot.’

Stefano gritted his teeth. Her daughter was lying on a stretcher and she was worrying about her Christmas presents? Deciding that he would never cease to be disgusted by the shallowness of human nature, he climbed into the ambulance, wishing that he didn’t have to leave Liv.

Just before the doors closed, he glanced back at her and saw her speaking reassuringly to Susan, while cuddling Max.

She supported everyone, he thought grimly. But who supported her?

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