Читать книгу Mistletoe Brides - Liz Fielding, Jan Colley - Страница 12

CHAPTER SIX

‘MUMMY, why are you staring out of the window and smiling?’

Liv turned at the sound of Max’s voice. ‘Oh…’ she cleared her throat and picked up her coffee-mug. It was Saturday morning and she’d been up since dawn. ‘I was just…thinking.’ About being kissed. It wasn’t the first time she’d been kissed, but it seemed that way. Unless her memory was defective, it had never felt like that.

Stefano Lucarelli kissed as well as he did everything else.

Max shook the contents of the cereal packet into his bowl and looked at her sympathetically. ‘Are you worrying that Father Christmas might not come? I know how he gets round the whole world in one night.’

‘You do?’ Why had he kissed her? She didn’t understand it, but it was impossible to erase the memory from her brain or her body. And he’d said that he wanted to know more about her. What had he meant by that?

‘Mum? Are you listening?’

‘I’m listening.’

‘It’s because he travels through different time zones,’ Max said seriously. ‘You know, he starts in Australia, then he moves on to…’ swinging his legs, he carried on detailing Father Christmas’s route while Liv tried desperately to stop thinking about Stefano.

With a huge effort, she brought herself back to reality. ‘OK. I’ll stop worrying about Father Christmas’s workload. So—plan for the day. Football in the park and then we’ll buy the Christmas tree. How does that sound?’

‘Brilliant.’ Max crunched his way through the cereal and drank his milk. ‘Pizza for tea?’

Liv laughed. Why was she feeling so happy? It was completely ridiculous, but she just couldn’t help it. Determined to pull herself together, she rose to her feet. ‘I’ll make the dough now. You can help. Wash your hands.’

‘Hayley’s mum won’t let her make pizza dough because she says it makes a mess.’ Max reached for the weighing scales and lifted the flour out of the cupboard. ‘I told her that you love mess.’

‘Mess and I are certainly intimately acquainted,’ Liv said dryly, glancing around her kitchen and wondering why it never stayed tidy.

Because she was happy to let her son make pizza dough.

Max emptied some flour onto the weighing scales. ‘Oops.’ He stood back as some of it sprinkled over his toes. ‘You can do the water.’

The doorbell rang just as Max plunged his fingers into the gooey mixture.

‘That will be the postman.’ Liv wiped her hands and walked towards the door. She was still in her pyjamas, her hair was tumbling loose past her shoulders and her feet were bare, but as she had no intention of stepping outside, she decided that it didn’t matter.

Keeping her body out of sight, she opened the door, a cheerful smile on her face as she popped her head round.

Stefano Lucarelli stood there, a large white box in his hands and a cool, confident look on his handsome face. He was wearing a long black coat over jeans and a chunky roll-neck jumper that brushed against the blue shadow of his jaw.

‘Buongiorno.’

Memories of that amazing kiss came flooding back with disturbing clarity and for a moment she wondered whether he was real or whether her mind had conjured him up because she’d been thinking of him all morning. Was he a product of wishful thinking?

‘What are you doing here?’ Liv winced as she listened to herself. It was no wonder she was single. ‘I’m sorry. That sounded rude. It’s just that I—’ He looked far too good to be standing in her doorway.

‘Invite me in.’ His silken command left her more flustered than ever.

‘You must be joking.’ She thought of the pyjamas she was wearing. ‘Why would you want to come in?’

‘Because I don’t want to eat dessert on my own.’

Her gaze shifted from the gleam in his eyes to the box in his hands. ‘You brought me dessert?’

‘Belgian chocolate log, complete with whipped cream.’

Liv started to laugh. ‘It’s ten o’clock in the morning.’

Stefano gave a dismissive shrug. ‘If you’re going to commit a sin, you may as well get it over with early in the day.’ His Italian accent somehow made the words seem more sinful than the subject and the way he was looking at her made her insides turn to liquid.

‘You can’t possibly come in,’ she said in a strangled voice. ‘If you leave your Ferrari there, it will be gone when you leave. And anyway, I’m still in my pyjamas.’

‘Are you? You probably shouldn’t have told me that.’ His gaze focused on her for a moment. ‘You have amazing hair. I had no idea it was so long.’

His words were so unexpected that everything she’d been about to say fizzled and died in her head. He liked her hair?

No, of course he didn’t. How could he possibly? ‘Now, you’re being ridiculous,’ she said gruffly. ‘I look as though I just crawled out of bed.’

‘Precisely.’ His low, sexy drawl somehow connected to every nerve ending in her body.

Scarlet with embarrassment, she kept her body behind the door. ‘I can’t let you in.’

He smiled. ‘Yes, you can.’ He stepped forward and nudged at the door with his powerful shoulders.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Blasting you out of your comfort zone.’ He strolled into her flat, pushed the door shut and scanned her body with a single glance. ‘Nice pyjamas.’ Amusement shimmered in his dark eyes. ‘Pink baby elephants are absolutely my favourite animal.’

Aware that only a thin layer of cotton lay between his disturbingly thorough gaze and her naked body, Liv tried to cover herself and then realised the futility of the gesture and gave up. Why was life so unfair? When he’d taken her to dinner she’d been wearing her most ancient skinny rib jumper and now he’d arrived at her flat and she was dressed in cosy pyjamas that clung to her bottom and did nothing to hide the generous proportion of her top half.

Why couldn’t she have been wearing a skimpy lacy number?

Because skimpy lacy numbers were designed for sex and seduction, not sleep.

She was about to make an excuse and vanish into her bedroom when Max emerged from the kitchen, trailing dough behind him.

‘Did the postman bring something, Mum?’

‘No.’ Suddenly confronted by an issue far more serious than her choice of nightwear, Liv cleared her throat and tried to work out how best to explain the presence of a strange man in their hallway without upsetting Max.

She never brought men home.

But she didn’t have to explain because Stefano took over. ‘I work with your mother.’ He dropped to his haunches and smiled at the child. ‘Is that pizza dough you’re wearing?’

Max grinned. ‘It sort of just sticks everywhere.’

Stefano nodded with understanding. ‘You could try using a little less water.’

Max considered that advice for a moment and then looked at Liv. ‘You’re adding too much water, Mum.’

Liv smiled weakly. ‘That’s probably where I’m going wrong.’ She watched nervously as her son gave Stefano the once over.

‘Are you staying for breakfast?’ He peered at the box, his face brightening. ‘What is that? Is it a present?’

‘Max!’

But Stefano simply smiled and rose to his feet. ‘It is a present. An edible present.’ He handed the box to Liv. ‘I heard that your mother likes dessert.’

Max was jumping up and down, sending pizza dough flying everywhere. ‘She loves dessert but we don’t often have it because she says it makes her fat. Can I see? Is it chocolate?’

Liv held the box in front of her like armour. ‘I really need to get dressed,’ she began, but Max was tugging her towards the kitchen.

‘You look great, Mum,’ he said earnestly. ‘Why would you want to get changed? They’re my favourite pyjamas. They’re just so happy.’

Intercepting Stefano’s laughing gaze, Liv closed her eyes.

Great.

The sexiest man alive was standing in her tiny hallway and she was wearing ‘happy’ pyjamas.

Why was he doing this? Why was he here?

Didn’t he have anywhere better to be on a cold, sunny Saturday in December?

Max was giggling. ‘This is awesome. Mum won’t usually let me eat dessert unless I’ve finished my vegetables and I’ve never had dessert for breakfast before.’

They moved through to the tiny kitchen and Stefano instantly made himself at home, pulling out a chair and helping himself to a glass of orange juice.

Liv watched him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what he’d make of her tiny kitchen. But he didn’t appear interested in anything other than Max.

‘You need to cut the ribbon.’ Picking up a knife, he leaned forward and sliced through the ribbon. The box fell open to reveal a beautiful chocolate log, dusted with icing and decorated with a snowman.

Max sank onto his chair, speechless. ‘Wow. Have you seen it, Mum?’

‘I’ve seen it, sweetheart.’ And she didn’t even want to imagine how many calories would be in a single slice.

‘It’s amazing.’

‘I hope so.’ Stefano picked up the knife. ‘Would you like the piece from the end? There’s more chocolate on that piece.’ He sliced through the cake in a typically decisive fashion and Liv turned to put on the kettle, her mind working overtime.

Was he charming Max to get to her?

No, of course not. He wasn’t interested in her. Why would he be interested in her?

But he was in her flat on his day off.

Her head was full of questions, but she didn’t dare ask any of them while Max was there so she made a fresh pot of coffee and placed it in front of Stefano with an awkward smile.

‘It isn’t Italian. Cuban, I think.’

He leaned back in his chair and lifted an eyebrow. ‘What happened to the instant?’

‘Fresh coffee is my Saturday morning treat.’ Liv raked her fingers through her long hair and then wished she hadn’t because the gesture drew his gaze and she froze, sensing a shift in the mood and the atmosphere.

‘We’re going to play football in the park.’ Aware that the adults were distracted, Max slid his hand towards the cake and transferred another piece onto his plate. ‘Are you going to come?’

‘Max!’ Embarrassed and horrified, Liv dragged her gaze away from Stefano’s and poured coffee into two mugs. ‘Mr Lucarelli can’t—I mean, he’s very busy and he has to go in a minute and—’

‘No, I don’t. I’d love to play football.’ Stefano stretched his long legs out in front of him and winked at the boy. ‘As long as you are gentle with me. It’s a long time since I played.’

‘Do you like football?’

‘I’m Italian,’ Stefano pointed out. ‘All Italians are born loving pizza, football and fast cars.’

‘Perhaps I’m Italian.’ For a moment Max forgot about the chocolate cake. ‘Do you have a fast car?’

‘Very fast.’ Stefano smiled and Liv sat down opposite him, nursing her mug in her hands, watching as Max chatted.

‘Cool. I’d love to drive it but I’m not old enough yet. I’m trying to make it into the first team at school. Mum’s coaching me.’

‘I’m not sure I’d exactly describe it as coaching.’ Liv removed the remains of the chocolate log before Max was tempted to take a third slice. ‘That was delicious. Thank you, Stefano.’

‘Awesome.’ Max watched wistfully as she put the cake away. ‘Can we eat the rest later? After we’ve played football, we’re going to buy our Christmas tree.’

Liv watched her son, her heart in her mouth. He was so, so trusting and while that was lovely in a way, it also terrified her. Despite not having a father, his little life had been stable and secure. She’d made sure of it. He didn’t even remember Jack and he had no idea how much pain and anguish lurked out there in the world.

He had no idea what it felt like to be hurt.

Suddenly she felt a rush of protectiveness and for the first time since Stefano had knocked on her door, her voice was steady. ‘Max, go and get changed. And spend ten minutes tidying your room.’

‘But—’

‘Untidy room, no football.’

With an exaggerated groan, Max slid off the chair and huffed his way out of the kitchen.

Liv closed the door behind him and Stefano’s eyes narrowed.

‘I sense I’m in trouble,’ he said softly. ‘Was it the chocolate log?’

‘I need to know what you’re doing here.’ She stood with her back to the door, wishing she’d changed out of her pyjamas before she’d started this conversation. ‘And don’t tell me you were just bringing me dessert.’

‘You refused my dinner invitation.’

‘And you always bring breakfast round to women who refuse you?’ When he didn’t answer immediately, she gave a hollow laugh. ‘Oh, don’t tell me—no one has ever said no to you before. Is that what is going on here? Is it a pursuit thing? Is this about your ego, Stefano?’

He stirred. ‘I don’t have a problem with my ego.’ He placed his mug back on the table in a deliberate movement. ‘But I do enjoy your company.’

She thought about that comment for a moment and then let out a little breath and lifted a hand to her hair. ‘Stefano, we both know that there are a million women out there who would give their entire salary to have breakfast with you. Women who are thinner and much more interesting than I am. So what I want to know is—what are you doing in my kitchen?’

‘I heard a rumour that you wore pink elephant pyjamas.’

‘Why are you joking?’

‘Whyareyou so lacking in confidence?’ His voice was soft. ‘Why is it so unlikely that I would seek out your company?’

Liv looked at him in exasperation, aware that Max could remerge at any moment. ‘Do I really have to spell it out?’

‘Yes, I think you probably do.’ Eyes narrowed, he watched her. ‘I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.’

‘You’re dealing with someone ordinary, that’s what you’re dealing with. I try to be a good mother and I hope I’m a good nurse, but I’m not interesting and I’m certainly not sexy. I’ve had a child.’ Listening to herself, she gave a groan and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with you.’

‘How could you possibly believe that you’re not sexy?’

‘Because I have a perfectly good mirror in my bedroom.’ Liv forced herself to look him in the eye. ‘I honestly don’t know what you want from me. If it’s sex, and I can’t imagine for a moment that it would be,’ she added hastily, ‘then it’s only fair to warn you that it’s been so long since I did it, I’m not sure I can even remember how. I can guarantee that it would be the most crashing disappointment of your life. Don’t waste your time. I—I’m orinary, Stefano.’ The way he was looking at her made her hot and shivery at the same time.

‘If you don’t think you’re sexy then there is clearly something wrong with your mirror.’ His dark gaze lingered on her face. ‘And I don’t find you in the least bit “ordinary”. You are warm, kind, independent and unselfishly devoted to your child. That makes you extraordinary, Liv, not ordinary.’

‘Stefano—’

‘I’m not here because you said no to me, I’m here because I enjoy your company and I want to spend the day with you. Do I want to have sex with you?’ He gave a slow smile and a fatalistic lift of his broad shoulders. ‘Yes, of course, I do. And if you have forgotten how then don’t worry, I will remind you.’

‘Stefano!’

‘You’re being honest, so I will be the same. I am Italian and you are extremely sexy. But I’m willing to delay that part until you feel a little more comfortable with me. Then we’ll see. Perhaps you will decide you’d like hot sex for Christmas after all.’

The colour poured into her cheeks and she closed her eyes. ‘So you did overhear our conversation.’

‘Anna has a loud voice.’

‘And she was voicing her own opinions, not mine,’ Liv said in a strangled voice. ‘I can’t think of anything more horrifying than having hot sex with you—’

‘Grazie.’

She covered her face with her hands. ‘That didn’t come out the way I meant it to come out. You must know how attractive you are—you don’t need me to tell you that. It’s just that—’

‘You’re a nervous wreck,’ he said, watching her with a faint hint of amusement in his lazy dark eyes. Unlike her, he was totally at ease with the conversation and with himself.

Her hands dropped to her sides and she gave a little shake of her head, knowing that whatever happened nothing would give her the courage to take her clothes off in front of this man.

‘You don’t want to go to a bed with a woman who eats chocolate log at ten in the morning.’

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. ‘If you think that, tesoro…’ he breathed gently ‘…then you truly know nothing about men. Being tempted by chocolate log in the morning, suggests a hedonistic, passionate nature and a real enjoyment of the good things in life. I look forward to uncovering more of this hidden side to you.’

The thought of him uncovering a single inch of her made her shrink with mortification, but at the same time her pulse was racing and her entire body was warm.

‘Do you want to come and play football?’ If there was one thing guaranteed to stop him looking at her in the way he was, it would be the sight of her shivering in goal with pink cheeks and blue lips.

He rose to his feet. ‘Now that’s an invitation I definitely can’t refuse.’

It was the most entertaining day he’d had since his arrival in England.

The ground was hard and covered by frost, but Max sped down the field with the ball and kicked it into the goal. With whoops of joy he retrieved the ball and threw it to Stefano.

‘Did you see me? Did you see me?’ He was dancing on the spot with excitement and Stefano grinned.

‘Great shot. But watch the position of your body,’ he instructed, lining up the ball and demonstrating. ‘Now you try.’

Max paused, distracted by two fire engines that raced along the nearby road, lights flashing, horns blaring. ‘Wow,’ he breathed, ‘they’re going so fast.’

Stefano glanced at them briefly and then took the opportunity to look at Liv.

She was standing in goal, occasionally shouting encouragement to her son. Her hands were in her pockets to keep them warm and she always seemed to move a few seconds after the ball had landed in the goal, but she was clearly doing her best.

And it was obvious that she hated football.

Stefano felt something shift inside him.

Offhand he couldn’t think of a single other woman who would be prepared to spend an entire Saturday shivering, while a small boy kicked a ball into a net.

Yet she hadn’t complained once, despite the fact that she was obviously freezing cold.

She’d changed out of her pyjamas into a thick wool sweater and a pair of jeans, but even with her wool coat and the addition of a thick scarf, he knew that she wasn’t moving around enough to be able to stay warm. Her cheeks were pink, her lips were blue and suddenly he wanted to tackle her to the ground and warm her up in the most basic way known to man.

‘Time for a break,’ he called to both of them and together they strolled back towards the flat. Stefano was just wondering how to take the two of them out for lunch without triggering Liv’s independent streak, when she gave a strangled cry.

‘Oh no! Stefano, no! Those fire engines we saw—the fire is in our block of flats!’

Stefano turned his head and saw smoke and flames engulfing the building with horrifying speed. Two fire engines were parked outside and were tackling the blaze but even as they watched there was a small explosion and glass blew out of two upstairs windows.

With a horrified gasp, Liv started to run towards the flats and Stefano reached out and caught her arm in an iron grip. Her eyes still on her home, Liv tugged and tried to free herself but he closed his hands over her shoulders, holding her fast.

‘No. You can’t go in there. There’s nothing you can do.’ His tone was harsher than he’d intended but it seemed to have the desired effect because she stopped pulling and sagged against him.

‘Our home. All our things…’ Her voice was a helpless whisper and Max give a little sob and curled his fist into her coat for reassurance.

‘Has our home gone, Mummy? Has it gone?’

‘Oh, baby!’ Forgetting her own anguish, she pulled away from Stefano and dropped to her knees, folding her son into her arms and squeezing him tightly. ‘It’s going to be fine, you’ll see. It’s just a little problem, but we can solve it together like we always do. Don’t you worry.’ Putting her own feelings to one side, she thought only of Max and Stefano watched in silence, at a loss to know what to say in the face of her personal disaster.

Remembering her reaction to the car, he knew how enormous this would be for her. But instead of falling apart and turning to him for support, she kept her emotions in check and concentrated on her child.

‘Where will we live? Where will we sleep?’ Max was crying now and he wrapped his arms round her neck and hung on tightly, clinging to his mother.

Stefano, who could never remember crying in his entire adult life, found that he had a lump in his throat.

‘Hush. Hush now,’ Liv said gently, ‘that’s enough. Stop crying.’ She eased him away from her and forced him to look at her. ‘I’ll fix it. You know I’ll fix it.’

Even though everything she owned was in the building, currently being greedily devoured by flames, she held it together and the hand that stroked her son’s head was remarkably steady.

Max’s eyes swam. ‘My toys are in there,’ he choked, ‘and my special moon and stars bed cover and my geography colouring.’

Stefano watched as Liv somehow conjured up a magical smile full of confidence and reassurance. ‘Well, I’m willing to bet that Mr Thompson hasn’t heard that excuse before for not handing in homework on time. I think he just might forgive you, this once.’ Her tone was light and she leaned forward and kissed Max several times. ‘It’s people that matter, sweetheart, not things. Remember that. Things aren’t important. They can always be replaced. We have each other, and that’s all that really matters.’ But although her words were brave and seemed to reassure Max, her face was as white as a winter frost and her eyes were blank with shock.

He needed to get both of them away from here.

Stefano was about to take charge when she straightened, still holding Max’s hand.

‘There’s no point in standing here watching.’ Her voice was steady and strong. ‘It’s upsetting for Max. There’s a coffee-shop round the corner. I’ll take him there while I ring the insurance company and work out what to do. They’re going to have to arrange for us to stay somewhere tonight.’

A flicker of movement in the flats caught Stefano’s eye. ‘Liv—there’s someone up there. One flat below yours.’

Still holding tightly to Max’s hand, Liv followed the direction of his gaze. ‘It’s Emma,’ she breathed in horror. ‘She’s eleven. Where’s her mother? Why are they still in there?’

‘She needs to get down on the floor,’ Max muttered, pressing himself against Liv’s leg. ‘We were taught that in school. Smoke rises, so you need to get down on the floor.’

Stefano glanced at Liv. He didn’t want to leave her, but she clearly read his mind because she gave him a push.

‘We’re fine. Go. Be careful.’

‘Stay here,’ Stefano ordered. ‘Call an ambulance, Liv. At the very least she’s going to suffer from smoke inhalation.’

By the time he’d identified himself to the crew, two firemen in breathing apparatus had appeared from the building carrying the child.

Swiftly Stefano carried out an initial assessment. ‘Do we have any idea of the nature of the materials in her flat? Furniture, polyurethane foam?’

Liv appeared by his side, as cool and composed as she always was in a medical crisis. There was nothing to indicate that her own home had been one of those destroyed. ‘Emma?’ She stroked the child’s hair gently. ‘It’s Liv, from upstairs—how are you feeling, sweetheart?’

‘I didn’t hear anything,’ the little girl said hoarsely and then gave a choking cough. ‘I was asleep.’ She made a whistling sound as she inhaled and Stefano saw Liv glance at him.

‘She has a degree of stridor. Do you want to intubate her?’

‘I want to give her oxygen and get her to hospital. If I have to intubate her, I will, but this obviously isn’t the best place.’ Stefano cursed mentally, aware that Liv’s home was burning behind him and he was going to have to make a difficult choice. The shriek of an ambulance siren announced the arrival of the paramedics.

‘Max and I will follow in the car,’ Liv said immediately. ‘We might be able to help and at least we’ll be able to give you a lift back here.’

Stefano thrust a hand in his pocket and withdrew his keys. ‘Use my car.’

‘You’re joking.’ Her expression was comical. ‘I can’t drive a Ferrari. I’ll take the hire car and we can collect yours later.’

At that moment there was a piercing scream and a woman dropped her shopping and ran towards them. Food spilled over the pavement and a milk carton split and slowly leaked its contents into the gutter. ‘Emma!’ The woman stared at the stretcher and then put her hands to her mouth. ‘Oh my God—is she? Is she—?’

About to transfer the child to the ambulance, Stefano cast a meaningful look in Liv’s direction. She slid her arm round the woman, supporting and restraining her so that she didn’t obstruct the transfer of her daughter into the ambulance.

‘Emma’s all right, Susan. But she’s breathed in some of the smoke so we need to take her to the hospital. You can follow in the car with us.’

Susan looked over her shoulder at the smouldering building. ‘Our home…’

‘Let’s worry about Emma first.’ Liv didn’t even glance towards her flat, but Susan started to sob.

‘I’ve lost everything. Everything. All my Christmas presents were in there and I certainly can’t afford to buy another lot.’

Stefano gritted his teeth. Her daughter was lying on a stretcher and she was worrying about her Christmas presents? Deciding that he would never cease to be disgusted by the shallowness of human nature, he climbed into the ambulance, wishing that he didn’t have to leave Liv.

Just before the doors closed, he glanced back at her and saw her speaking reassuringly to Susan, while cuddling Max.

She supported everyone, he thought grimly. But who supported her?