Читать книгу The Royal House of Niroli Collection - Кейт Хьюит, Пенни Джордан - Страница 31

‘THERE’s a parcel for you in the third drawer of the filing cabinet,’ Lucia said on Amelia’s arrival at the hospital the next morning.

‘A parcel?’ Amelia wiped her damp face with a tissue. ‘For me?’

Lucia looked up from the notes she was writing. ‘You look like you’ve just run a marathon. Has Rico taken your car again?’

Amelia nodded and tossed the tissue in the bin under the desk. ‘His is still in the workshop. They won’t release it until he pays the bill, but I can’t see that happening too soon now he’s out of work. I had to use the pushbike.’

‘You should have called me. I could have taken a detour to pick you up.’

‘And add to your already frantic morning getting the children off to school and your husband off to work? No, the exercise will do me good. I quite enjoyed it actually.’

‘I’d offer to run you home but I’ve already promised the girls I’d take them swimming at the beach after school.’ Lucia gave her an apologetic look.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Amelia assured her. ‘Anyway, Rico might make it in time to pick me up.’ She opened the drawer and took out the neatly wrapped parcel and stared at it for a moment.

‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Lucia asked.

She turned the package over in her hands and frowned. ‘It doesn’t say who it’s from.’

‘Go on, open it. It’s addressed to you.’

Amelia undid the slim ribbon before unpicking the tape holding the brightly coloured wrapping in place. The paper fell open to reveal a beautiful summer dress in three bright shades of pink, the skirt soft and voluminous, the fabric exquisite to touch.

‘Wow!’ Lucia breathed a sigh of wonder. ‘Someone has very good taste. If I’m not mistaken, that looks like a Mardi D’Avanzo original.’

Amelia checked the label on the collar of the dress, her heart giving a sudden lurch as she saw the famous Italian designer’s name printed there. ‘It is.’

Lucia’s eyes twinkled. ‘So who is your admirer? It’s not your birthday for months.’

Amelia carefully rewrapped the dress, scrunching up the little card she’d found inside the wrapping. ‘Is Dr Hunter in yet?’ she asked.

Lucia leaned forward in her chair, her eyes going wide. ‘Did Dr Hunter buy that for you?’

Amelia straightened her spine resolutely. ‘Yes, and I am giving it back to him right now.’

Lucia looked confused. ‘How come he bought you a dress?’

‘I’ll tell you later. Where is he?’

‘I think he’s in the office Dr Morani organised for him. But aren’t you being a bit hasty? I mean, that’s a designer outfit!’

Amelia gave her a determined look. ‘I can buy my own clothes. I am not going to accept his or anyone else’s charity.’

She strode down the corridor and gave the office door a couple of hard raps with her knuckles.

‘Come in,’ Alex called out cheerily.

She opened the door and closed it behind her with a little snap and locked gazes with him where he was sitting behind his desk.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ she bit out, thrusting the parcel at him.

He got to his feet and smiled. ‘Did you like it? I kind of had to guess your size but you’re about the same size as my younger sister Megan.’

Amelia slapped the parcel on the top of his desk. ‘I cannot accept this from you,’ she said, her tone crisp with pride.

‘If you don’t like the colour I can always change it,’ he offered.

‘It’s got nothing to do with the colour!’ she said, only just resisting the urge to stamp her foot at him.

‘Then what’s the problem?’ he asked.

‘You had no right to buy me this.’

‘On the contrary, I thought I had a perfect right to do so,’ he said, his dark eyes running over her lazily before returning to her fiery gaze. ‘I was partly responsible for you ruining your dress the other day, so I thought it was the very least I could do to replace it.’

‘With this?’ She pointed to the parcel on his desk.

He rubbed at his cleanly shaven jaw for a moment, his eyes still holding hers. ‘Mmm…now what did I get wrong? It must be the size. I know women absolutely hate it when the men in their lives get their size wrong.’

‘You did not get the size wrong and I am not the woman in your life.’ This time she did stamp her foot. ‘I just cannot accept such an expensive outfit from you or indeed from anyone.’

‘I thought the colour would bring out the raven’s wing darkness of your hair.’

She glared at him without answering.

‘It’s meant to be a compliment,’ he explained. ‘You have the most beautiful, shiny hair. It was the first thing I noticed about you when I saw you perched on the top of my back fence.’

Amelia fought against the compliment’s effect on her feminine psyche but it took a huge effort. Her hair was cut short, she did nothing to it but wash it each day. She couldn’t remember anyone ever calling it beautiful before, or at least not in a very long time.

‘It makes you look like an elf,’ he added with a tilt of his mouth.

She gave him a scornful look. ‘I thought you said I looked like a pixie?’

He grinned down at her. ‘Pixie, fairy, elf—what’s the difference?’

She pursed her mouth at him. ‘A pixie has funny ears.’

‘Show me your ears,’ he said.

She stepped backwards. ‘I—I beg your pardon?’

He stepped forwards. ‘Go on. Prove to me you’re a pixie not an elf. I dare you.’

‘This is a t-totally ridiculous c-conversation,’ she said and backed away even farther, but she came up against the closed door. She had to crane her neck to keep eye contact, her heart skipping as fast as a professional boxer in training.

‘W-what are you doing?’ she squeaked as his hand reached for her hair.

She shivered all over as his fingers tucked her hair behind one of her ears, his touch so gentle it felt like a caress of a long, soft feather against her sensitive skin. She couldn’t get her lungs to inflate properly and all of a sudden she had an almost uncontrollable urge to drop her gaze to the sensual curve of his mouth.

‘Well, how about that?’ he said as he stepped backwards. ‘I was wrong. There’s absolutely nothing weird about your ears.’

Amelia was completely lost for words. She opened her mouth a couple of times but nothing came out.

She watched as he walked back over to his desk, his long legs encased in dark trousers that highlighted his lean, athletic build. His light blue shirt was rolled back at the cuffs, revealing his tanned wrists with the sprinkling of dark masculine hair running down his arms to the backs of his fingers. He was wearing a silver watch—she couldn’t make out the brand but she assumed it was worth a small fortune.

She stiffened as he picked up the parcel but instead of handing it to her he pulled out the bin from beneath his desk and dropped it into it.

‘What are you doing?’ she blurted, pushing herself away from the door.

He gave her a guileless look. ‘I’m throwing the dress away.’

‘B-but…but why?’

He gave a loose shoulder shrug. ‘You don’t want it.’

‘But that doesn’t mean you have to throw it away! You can give it to someone else…your sister, for instance.’

‘I bought it for you, not my sister,’ he said. ‘And besides, how would you feel if a guy bought a present for another woman and ended up giving it to you?’

‘Um…’

He gave her a knowing little smile. ‘See? I told you. You wouldn’t like it one little bit.’

Amelia’s eyes went to the bin and she swallowed. ‘I—I could find someone who would really like it…I mean…rather than you throw it away.’

‘Oh, would you?’ He gave her a grateful smile. ‘I’d really appreciate it. It cost an absolute packet—not that I mind, of course, as I can afford it—but my parents always taught me to be responsible with money. What’s that old saying? If you look after the pennies the pounds look after themselves?’

Amelia was starting to think Alex Hunter had far too much talent in the way of charm. She could feel her mouth twitching and had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing out loud. No man, not even Benito with his silver tongue, had had this effect on her.

He handed her the parcel, his fingers brushing against hers. ‘Please try and find it a good home,’ he said soberly. ‘I was getting very attached to that dress.’

A burst of laughter spilled from her mouth. She tried to cover it with a cough, but she could see he wasn’t fooled.

He gave a huge grin and raised his closed fist in the air in a punch of victory. ‘I knew I could do it!’ he crowed delightedly.

‘D-do what?’ She tried to restrict her smile but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

‘I wanted to make you smile and I did it. I had my doubts there for a while, but I finally wore you down.’

‘You’re impossible,’ she said and turned to leave, a ridiculous smile still stuck on her face.

‘Hey, are we still on for a date some time?’ he called out as she got to the door.

She turned around to look at him. ‘I can’t possibly go on a date with you,’ she said, her belly doing a funny little flipflop as she met his eyes once more.

‘Why not?’

She hunted her brain for a valid excuse. ‘I…I have nothing to wear.’

His gaze went to the parcel under her arm before returning to hers, a smile tilting up the corners of his mouth. ‘You could always wear that, but to tell you the truth, I really liked the one you had on the other day.’

She frowned at him in puzzlement. ‘The long black one?’

He shook his head. ‘No, the one with the great view.’

Amelia could feel the colour firing in her cheeks and wished she had more poise to deal with his effortless charm and playful banter.

‘I have to go…’ She reached for the door with clumsy fingers, her heart fluttering like a confined sparrow.

‘Here.’ He reached past her shoulder and opened the door for her. ‘Allow me.’

She breathed in the fragrance of his aftershave, its citrus grace notes making her senses whirl all over again at his closeness. ‘Th-thank you.’

He waved her through gallantly. ‘It was so nice of you to call round to see me,’ he said with another stomach-flipping grin. ‘Feel free to drop around any time.’

She shook her head at him and left, but it took most of the morning before she could wipe the smile off her face, and even longer before the mad fluttery sensation in her stomach died down to a soft little pulse…