Mummy, Nurse...Duchess?. Kate Hardy

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      Especially a man who was so good-looking and seemed so charming.

      Rosie knew all about how charm and good looks could hide a rotten heart. Been there, done that, and her three-year-old twins were the ones who’d nearly paid the price.

      Thinking of the twins made her heart skip a beat, and she caught her breath. It had been just over a year now, and she still found panic coursing through her when she remembered that night. The threats. The dead look behind that man’s eyes. The way he’d looked at her children as if they were merely a means to getting what he wanted instead of seeing them as the precious lives they were.

      She dug her nails into her palms. Focus, Rosie, she told herself. Freddie and Lexi were absolutely fine. If there was any kind of problem with either of the twins, the hospital nursery school would’ve called her straight away. The place was completely secure; only the staff inside could open the door, and nobody could take a child without either being on the list as someone with permission to collect a child, or giving the emergency code word for any particular child. Michael was dead, so his associates couldn’t threaten the twins—or Rosie—any more. And right now she had a job to do.

      ‘Everything all right, Rosie?’ Robyn asked.

      ‘Sure,’ Rosie said. Her past was not going to interfere with her new life here. She was a survivor, not a victim.

      ‘I just wanted to introduce you to Leo,’ Robyn continued. ‘He’ll be working with us for the next couple of months.’

      Or until something even more high profile came along, Rosie thought. Maybe she was judging him unfairly but, in her experience, handsome playboys couldn’t be trusted.

      ‘Leo, this is Rosie Hobbes, one of our paediatric nurses. Rosie, this is Leo Marchetti,’ Robyn said.

      ‘Hello,’ Rosie said, and gave him a cool nod.

      He gave her the sexiest smile she’d ever seen, and his dark eyes glittered with interest. ‘Delighted to meet you, signora,’ he said.

      Rosie would just bet he’d practised that smile in front of the mirror. And he’d hammed up that Italian accent to make himself sound super-sexy; she was sure he hadn’t had an accent at all when he’d walked onto the ward with Robyn. She should just think herself lucky he hadn’t bowed and kissed her hand. Or was that going to be next?

      ‘Welcome to Paddington’s, Your Highness,’ she said.

      He gave her another of those super-charming smiles. ‘Here, I’m a doctor, not a duke. “Leo” will do just fine.’

      ‘Dr Marchetti,’ she said firmly, hoping she’d made it clear that she preferred to keep her work relationships very professional indeed. ‘Excuse me—I really need to review these charts following the ward round. Enjoy your first day at the Castle.’

      * * *

      The Castle? Was she making a pointed comment about where he came from? Leo wondered. But women weren’t usually sharp with him. They usually smiled back, responding to his warmth. He liked women—a lot—and they liked him. Why had Rosie Hobbes cut him dead? Had he done something to upset her?

      But he definitely hadn’t met her before. He would’ve remembered her—and not just because she was tall, curvy and pretty, with that striking copper hair in a tousled bob, and those vivid blue eyes. There was something challenging about Rosie. Something that made him want to get up close and personal with her and find out exactly what made her tick.

      She hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring. Not that that meant anything, nowadays. Was she single?

      And why was he wondering that in any case? He was here to do a job. Relationships weren’t on the agenda, especially with someone he worked with. He was supposed to be finding someone suited to his position: another European noble, or perhaps the heir to a business empire. And together they would continue the Marchetti dynasty by producing a son.

      Right now, he still couldn’t face that. He wasn’t ready to trap someone else in the castle where he’d grown up, lonely and miserable and desperate for his father’s approval—approval that his father had been quick to withhold if Leo did or said anything wrong. Though what was wrong one day was right on another. Leo had never been able to work out what his father actually wanted. All he’d known for sure was that he was a disappointment to the Duke.

      He shook himself. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. ‘Thank you,’ he said, giving Rosie his warmest smile just for the hell of it, and followed Robyn to be introduced to the rest of the staff on the ward.

      * * *

      Once Rosie had finished reviewing the charts and typing notes into the computer, she headed on to the ward. Hopefully Dr Marchetti would be on the next ward by now, meeting and greeting, and she could just get on with her job.

      Why had he rattled her so much? She wasn’t one to be bowled over and breathless just because a man was good-looking. Not any more. Leo had classic movie-star looks: tall, with dark eyes and short, neat dark hair. He was also charming and confident, and Rosie had learned the hard way that charm couldn’t be trusted. Her whirlwind marriage had turned into an emotional rollercoaster, and she’d promised herself never to make that mistake again. So, even if Leo Marchetti was good friends with their Head of Surgery, Rosie intended to keep him at a very professional distance.

      She dropped into one of the bays to check on Penelope Craig. Penny was one of their long-term patients, and the little girl had been admitted to try and get her heart failure under control after an infection had caused her condition to worsen.

      ‘How are you doing, Penny?’ Rosie asked.

      The little girl looked up from her drawing and gave her the sweetest, sweetest smile. ‘Nurse Rosie! I’m fine, thank you.’

      Rosie exchanged a glance with Julia, Penny’s mother. They both knew it wasn’t true, but Penny wasn’t a whiner. She’d become a firm favourite on the ward, always drawing special pictures and chattering about kittens and ballet. ‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘I just need to do—’

      ‘—my obs,’ Penny finished. ‘I know.’

      Rosie checked Penny’s pulse, temperature and oxygen sats. ‘That’s my girl. Oh, and I’ve got something for you.’ She reached into her pocket and brought out a sheet of stickers.

      ‘Kittens! I love kittens,’ Penny said with a beaming smile. ‘Thank you so much. Look, Mummy.’

      ‘They’re lovely,’ Julia said, but Rosie could see the strain and weariness behind her smile. She understood only too well how it felt to worry about your children; being helpless to do anything to fix the problems must be sheer hell.

      ‘Thank you, Rosie,’ Julia added.

      ‘Pleasure.’ Rosie winked at Penny. ‘Hopefully these new drugs will have you back on your feet soon.’ The little girl was desperate to be a ballerina, and wore a pink tutu even when she was bed-bound. And Rosie really, really hoped that the little girl would have time for her dreams to come true. ‘Call me if you need anything,’ Rosie added to Julia.

      ‘I will. Thanks.’

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