The Italian GP's Bride. Kate Hardy
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Название: The Italian GP's Bride
Автор: Kate Hardy
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Medical
isbn: 9781474019132
isbn:
She took a sip of iced water to give her a breathing space. The answer was no—but nicely. Because in other circumstances it would definitely have been yes.
‘It’s very kind of you to ask,’ she said, ‘but I’m not in the market for a date.’
He looked pointedly at her left hand. ‘Not married. So you’re involved with someone at home—someone who couldn’t join you here in Italy?’
‘No. I’m single,’ she admitted.
‘As am I. So what’s the harm? You’re here on holiday, yes?’
‘Not exactly,’ she hedged.
‘Business, then?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s personal. But I can’t really talk about it right now. I need to get some things straight in my head.’
‘It sounds,’ Orlando said thoughtfully, ‘as if you could use a friend. A sounding-board, you could say. Someone who’s not involved.’
Lord, he was acute. That was exactly what she needed. Someone who was objective, who could see things more clearly than she could right now.
‘You barely know me, I admit—but I think we could be friends. And, as a medico di famiglia, I’m a good listener.’ He spread his hands. ‘Come to Pompeii with me. We can potter around among the ruins and eat gelati…and you can talk to me, knowing that whatever you tell me won’t go any further.’
Tempting. So tempting
But Eleanor wasn’t sure she could handle the beginning of a relationship as well as everything else—even if it was just temporary, a holiday fling.
‘As friends,’ he added, almost as if he’d guessed why she was stalling. ‘No pressure.’
She nodded. ‘Then thank you. I’d like that.’
‘Good.’ His eyes glittered. ‘I’ll pick you up here the day after tomorrow, at half past ten. Do you have good walking shoes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Wear them.’ Then, to take the edge off the command, he gave her one of those slow, sensual, knee-buckling smiles—a smile that made her very glad she was sitting down. ‘Of course, you could wear high heels if you prefer. But you’d end up with blisters.’
Which he, as a doctor, would insist on treating. The idea of his fingers stroking her skin—even if it was only to put a protective plaster around a blister—made desire flicker through her.
He glanced at his watch. ‘My fifteen minutes is up. Unless you can be late?’
She shook her head. ‘Not this time. It’s…complicated.’
‘You don’t have to explain, bella mia.’ He reached across the table, took her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it—just the way he had the previous day, when he’d dropped her off at the hotel.
Every nerve-ending seemed to heat, and, shockingly, she found herself wondering what it would be like to feel his mouth against her own instead of her hand.
Oh, lord.
‘Thank you for the drink,’ she said politely. ‘And I’m sorry I didn’t, um, have a chance to finish it.’
‘Non importa. You warned me we only had fifteen minutes.’ He smiled at her. ‘Have a pleasant evening. And I will see you on Thursday morning, yes?’
‘Thursday.’ And she really hoped her voice didn’t sound as croaky to him as it did to her.
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