Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride. Sarah Morgan

Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride - Sarah Morgan


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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


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