# Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride

Sarah Morgan

Enter into the world of high-flying Doctors as they navigate the pressures of modern medicine and find escape, passion, comfort and love – in each other’s arms!From the Snow Ball…to snow kissed! Liv Winchester has avoided men and sex since her ex left her with a baby. But new, wealthy trauma consultant Stefano Lucarelli is stunned by her curves and natural nursing talent. Stefano wants to make this overworked single mum feel like the beautiful woman she is again. He gives her two tickets to the Snow Ball, pampering treatments, a designer dress, diamonds and a babysitter for the night…and Liv feels like a princess.Their Snow Ball date is magical. But it’s going to take even more to convince Liv that she’s ready to be Stefano’s bride for real…

‘Have dinner with me tonight?’ Stefano asked.

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

‘I owe you dessert.’

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

‘Is it a babysitting issue?’

‘Yes.’ She said the word quickly and then shook her head. ‘No, actually that’s not true. It’s about me. 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?

Without speaking, Stefano took her face in his hands and brought his mouth down on hers. He kissed her slowly and confidently, holding her head exactly as he wanted it as he skillfully seduced her mouth.

Boring? She was exquisite.

Unsettled by the fierce intensity of his own response, Stefano dragged his mouth from hers.

‘There’s plenty that I don’t know about you, Liv,’ he said softly. ‘But I intend to find out.’

Sarah Morgan trained as a nurse, and has since worked in a variety of health-related jobs. Married to a gorgeous businessman, who still makes her knees knock, she spends most of her time trying to keep up with their two little boys, but manages to sneak off occasionally to indulge her passion for writing romance. Sarah loves outdoor life, and is an enthusiastic skier and walker. Whatever she is doing, her head is always full of new characters, and she is addicted to happy endings.

Recent titles by the same author:

Medical™ Romance THE REBEL DOCTOR’S BRIDE** THE ITALIAN’S NEW-YEAR MARRIAGE WISH* THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS SINGLE FATHER, WIFE NEEDED** A BRIDE FOR GLENMORE**

*Brides of Penhally Bay **Glenmore Island Doctors

Sarah Morgan also writes for Modern™ Romance. Her sexy heroes and feisty heroines aren’t to be missed! So don’t miss her next book…

Modern™ Romance THE VÁSQUEZ MISTRESS BOUGHT: THE GREEK’S INNOCENT VIRGIN THE SHIEKH’S VIRGIN PRINCESS THE BRAZILIAN BOSS’S INNOCENT MISTRESS

## ITALIAN DOCTOR, SLEIGH-BELL BRIDE

BY

SARAH MORGAN

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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