The Italian Doctor's Proposal. Kate Hardy
‘On the other hand, they might be.’
Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘No strings, I promise.’
‘Then two more dates and you’ll leave me alone?’ she asked hopefully.
Nic’s eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘We’re not going on a date, Lucy.’
You couldn’t get more crushing than that. She stared at the floor and wished herself a thousand miles away.
‘We’re merely spending the day together, as friends. Tell you what—I’ll do you a deal. I’ll talk your patient into being sensible over the shoulder dystocia issue and agreeing to a section if we find we have to do one for the baby’s sake, and you can show me your favourite bits of north Cornwall.’
She opened her mouth to say no, but he didn’t give her a chance to speak.
He laced his fingers together. ‘I would suggest sealing the deal properly…But we’re at work, and I promised I wouldn’t touch you without your permission.’ His eyes filled with mischief. ‘It’s a shame you’re not a mind-reader. Then again, if you knew what I was thinking right now, you’d probably slap my face.’
‘Don’t tempt me.’ Though her words were hollow. Just his mere existence tempted her. And she had a nasty feeling that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Sealing the deal with a kiss. Like the one at the fancy-dress ball—a kiss that might start out sweet and innocent but would heat up the minute their mouths met.
He said something in Italian and she folded her arms and glared at him.
‘Translate.’
‘I wouldn’t dare.’ He gave her a lazy grin. ‘If you want to know what I said, you’ll just have to learn Italian, won’t you?’
It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to have such a sensual mouth? And when he smiled like that, it made her want to act completely out of character. It made her want to reach over and kiss him. Passionately. And very, very improperly.
‘Am I dismissed?’ she asked.
‘Are you going to spend tomorrow with me?’
‘No,’ she said crisply.
He clasped his hands theatrically to his heart. ‘I tried.’
‘You’re very trying,’ she snapped back.
He spread his hands. ‘What can I say? The lady’s always right.’
‘I do have patients to see.’
‘Then arrivederci, Lucia mia,’ he said softly.
Corny, smarmy, pathetic…Oh, who was she trying to kid? That Italian accent was way, way too sexy for her peace of mind. Worse, she almost opened her mouth to say she’d changed her mind and, yes, she would spend the day with him.
Almost. Common sense prevailed. Just.
‘You need your head tested, Lucy Williams,’ she muttered to herself as she closed his office door.
Nic touched his mouth. No, it wasn’t hot. And he hadn’t kissed her, much as he’d wanted to. So why did he feel so scorched?
He smiled wryly. It was obvious: it had a lot to do with a certain Dr Williams and that beautiful rosebud mouth. It had taken all his self-control not to pull her into his arms and kiss her, make her feel that same blood-heating passion that zinged through his veins when he saw her.
Working with her was going to be torture.
Working with her was going to be heaven.
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