Mistletoe Brides. Liz Fielding
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.
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