The Italian Doctor's Proposal. Kate Hardy

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       CHAPTER TWO

      COOL, calm, very English—and clearly as mad as hell at him.

      And Nic couldn’t blame her, in the circumstances. He’d taken her job and he’d embarrassed her at the ball in front of all her colleagues…and friends? Nic wasn’t sure, yet, if Lucy Williams believed in friends.

      She certainly didn’t believe in lovers. The shock on her face when he’d kissed her had told him that.

      What he couldn’t work out was why. Why a woman who was clever and talented—enough to take on the role of acting consultant at the very young age of thirty—and beautiful wasn’t already spoken for. No, scratch the beautiful—she was more than that. She looked like an angel, with that alabaster skin and those clear blue eyes and the ice-blonde hair pulled back severely from her face—hair he wanted to see tumbling down over her shoulders or, better still, over his pillow. Her mouth was a perfect rosebud and he just hadn’t been able to resist kissing her at the ball.

      And then she’d vanished. He’d looked for her immediately after the next dance, but she’d gone.

      And then, when she’d faced him on the ward…

      He took a swig of coffee. Leave her alone. That would be the sensible thing to do. Anything else would be breaking all his rules, professional and private.

      Except…he couldn’t.

      ‘Down, boy,’ he said softly to his libido.

      It didn’t take the slightest bit of notice.

      Lucy somehow managed to avoid Nic for the rest of her shift. Usually she stayed later than she needed to, because the team on River was overstretched and she didn’t mind giving up her free time. She loved her job. But today she needed to get as far away from Nic Alberici as she could. Until she’d managed to get her hormones under control and could treat him with detached professionalism.

      The next day, she thought she’d managed it.

      Until Nic walked into the side-room where she was talking to Liza Andrews.

      ‘Mr Alberici.’ Liza was beaming. ‘Thanks so much for what you did for us yesterday—you and Dr Williams. You saved our lives.’

      ‘Pleasure,’ Nic said. ‘How are you both today?’

      ‘Tired, but fine. Lucy sleeps all the time.’

      Nic cast a quizzical look at his senior reg.

      ‘This Lucy,’ Lucy explained, still holding the sleeping baby.

      ‘We called her after you both—Lucy Nicola,’ Liza told him.

      ‘Thank you. It’s an honour,’ he said quietly. He stroked the baby’s cheek. ‘She’s beautiful.’

      ‘And Rosemary says the white stuff on her skin—vernix—will wash off in a couple of days.’

      ‘When they’re overdue it goes the other way—they’re like little, wrinkled old men with very dry skin and you go through tons of moisturiser,’ Nic said.

      To Lucy’s horror, he actually sat down on the arm of the chair she was using. Not quite close enough to touch—but close enough for her to feel his body heat. Why couldn’t he have sat in the chair on the other side of the bed? Why did he have to invade her space like this?

      ‘My turn for a cuddle,’ he said, holding his arms out.

      For one heart-stopping moment, she thought he meant a cuddle with her. But, of course, he meant baby Lucy.

      ‘You’re worse than the midwives—want to keep the babies all to yourselves,’ he teased.

      ‘I’d better get on anyway,’ she said, gently transferring her tiny bundle into his arms and making sure that the baby’s head was supported.

      You’re avoiding me, his eyes accused.

      Tough, hers said back. ‘Bye, Liza. Catch you later, Nic,’ she said a lot more casually than she felt, and left the little room. Why did he have to look so—so sexy, holding baby Lucy?

      ‘Get a grip,’ she warned herself, and went to check the file of her next patient.

      But her avoidance strategy didn’t last long. She’d seen two more patients when Mal met her in the corridor. ‘Boss wants a word with you,’ he said.

      ‘What about?’

      ‘Dunno. He did say as soon as you could manage it.’ He gave her a wicked grin. ‘What have you been up to, Luce?’

      ‘Working, Malcolm,’ she said, clearly a shade too defensively because his grin broadened.

      ‘I’ll believe you, Luce.’

      Lucy decided not to dignify him with a reply and went down the corridor to Nic’s office. She rapped on the door.

      ‘Come in.’

      She put her head round the door. ‘You wanted a word?’