Читать книгу Italian Doctor, Dream Proposal - Margaret McDonagh - Страница 9

FOR the tenth time in as many minutes, Ruth checked her watch. Any moment now, Rico would arrive to escort her to dinner and her anxiety was growing. As was her excitement. Her whole body felt alive with anticipation, her breathing was too fast and too shallow, and her blood was pulsing wildly though her veins. Unable to settle, she paced across the room and paused at the window, scarcely noticing the view out over the shimmering expanse of Morecambe Bay to the western horizon where the sun would soon be setting.

No matter how many times she told herself that the only reason she had accepted the invitation to have dinner with Rico was because of the work-related discussions they were going to have, she knew it was a lie. Just as she could not deceive herself about the extra effort she had made when getting dressed for the evening. She rarely wore dresses, but as well as insisting on swimwear, in the unlikely event she had time to try out the hotel’s indoor pool, Gina and Holly had persuaded her to bring her black dress—standard issue in most women’s wardrobes—in case of a smart dinner.

As promised, she had sent her two friends text messages to confirm she had arrived OK, but she had not divulged any information about Rico. Both were nurses. Gina McNaught at Strathlochan’s multi-purpose drop-in centre and Holly Tait on the children’s ward at Strathlochan Hospital. Both had expressed concern about her intention to accept the last-minute invitation to this conference, although Gina had been the most vociferous.

‘Being stuck with two hundred stuffy old doctors for a couple of days doesn’t sound like fun to me,’ Gina had complained in her soft Scottish burr. ‘Besides, you probably know more about the immune system and allergies than most of the delegates, even though you’ve only been learning about the subjects for the last month.’

Ruth hadn’t taken umbrage at the implication that she was a swot because she’d known no judgement had been intended. Not from Gina. Aside from the fact that her friend never said a bad word about anyone, there had been obvious affection and admiration in her voice. Far removed from the criticism, resentment and snideness Ruth had become accustomed to all her life…first at home, then at school, following on during her medical training, and now in her first job as a GP.

‘You’ll be too busy overseeing final preparations for your wedding on Saturday to even notice I’m away,’ Ruth had teased in an effort to reassure her friend.

‘I’ll notice. And I can’t get married without you and Holly beside me as my bridesmaids. So make sure you don’t let the mysterious specialist you’ve been emailing persuade you to disappear off to America to work for him.’ Genuine worry had laced Gina’s tone. ‘Remember how much we all love you here.’

Recalling the words now brought a lump to Ruth’s throat, just as they had at the time. She wasn’t good at emotion and personal involvement. And she had no idea how to deal with affection, especially when directed at her, as she had never experienced it in her life before. Not until she had arrived in Strathlochan a couple of years ago when, much to her surprise and bemusement, she had immediately been taken under the protective wings of Gina and Holly. Likewise, the warm and generous welcome she had received from many within the local medical community had been equally unforeseen and overwhelming.

Snapping back to the problem at hand, Ruth nibbled her lower lip in indecision, wondering for the umpteenth time whether to change into something else. Turning round, she cast a nervous glance at her reflection in the hotel room’s full-length mirror. The hem of the dress brushed her knees, while the sleeves were three-quarter length and the neckline demure. More than respectable. Not at all revealing. Her freshly washed hair had been left loose, and she was wearing flat shoes, dark tights and the bare minimum of make-up. With her watch and her late grandmother’s locket on a chain around her neck her only additions, she should have looked stylish but unnoticeable. Not like a maiden schoolmarm, exactly, but far removed from the sensual siren who now gazed back at her. Her eyes looked huge and startled as she studied her alien image, awed and alarmed at the way the fabric hugged her body, subtly hinting at every curve.

This was not the effect she had intended. She had no idea what had gone wrong. And she was certainly nothing like the stranger she saw in the mirror. It had been a while since she had last worn the dress but she didn’t remember it ever looking this provocative. Had she realised, she never would have packed it, no matter what Gina and Holly had said.

A sudden knock at the door made her jump and warned her that there was no more time for indecision. Or to change her clothes. Pressing her palms to her cheeks, finding them unusually warm, she walked towards the door, wishing now that she was meeting Rico downstairs amongst the other delegates instead of agreeing that he call for her at her room. Sucking in a steadying breath, sure he would hear each rapid beat of her heart, she opened the door, only for all the air to leave her lungs in a rush when she saw him.

Wearing designer jeans, a black crew-neck sweater and a mid-brown leather jacket, Rico looked casual but smart…and devastatingly handsome. He hadn’t shaved, so still had the roguish, bad-boy edge she had uncharacteristically found so sexy when she had first seen him. Her gaze clashed with his and the hunger in gold-flecked hazel eyes seared her to her soul. He took his time looking over her from head to toe and back again, his appreciation so blatant that even she, with her total lack of self-confidence, could not fail to grasp that he liked what he saw.

Ruth shivered. Rico looked as if he wanted to forget all about dinner and would rather stay and feast on her instead. The knowledge weakened her knees. And her resolve. An unrecognisable part of her willed her surrender. A wild and wicked side she had never known she possessed had been fighting for freedom ever since she had met Rico. She had never found pleasure with a man, and her failings as a woman had been well and truly drummed into her, so this new and sudden desire was shocking and bewildering. Her attraction to Rico scared her—almost as much as his apparent attraction to her.

‘Good evening, Ruth.’ Taking her by surprise, his hands settled on her upper arms and drew her closer so he could place a kiss on each cheek. Her skin tingled from the brush of his lips and her hastily indrawn breath was fragranced with his arousing cedar-wood scent. ‘You look beautiful.’

She didn’t believe his extravagant compliment, but politeness demanded her response. ‘Th-thank you.’

‘You are ready to go?’ he queried, his hands gliding slowly down her arms before releasing her.

‘Yes. I’ll just get my things.’

Turning away to pick up her bag and room key, Ruth used the few seconds to try and regain some measure of composure. She only had to be near Rico and her body betrayed her. That the phenomenon had been happening all day, from the first moment they had looked at each other, in no way made it easier for her to understand. Why now? Why this man when no other had ever stirred her interest?

Before she could wrestle with the questions any further, Rico stepped into the room, the door slowly swinging to behind him. ‘Allow me to help you with your coat,’ he said, picking up the garment she had left draped over the back of a chair.

Ruth frowned in puzzlement. Why did she need to wear a coat to go to dinner in the hotel restaurant? Too on edge to argue, she did as she was bid as he held it ready for her to put on. His solicitousness came as no surprise. She had discovered many times during the day that his manners and courtesy were instinctive, and shown to men, as well as women, young and old alike.

Far too aware of his nearness, Ruth slipped each arm in turn into the coat sleeves, an aching knot forming deep inside her as his hands lingered a moment before gently gathering up the long strands of her hair and easing them out from under the collar, his fingers brushing tantalisingly across the back of her neck. The temptation to remain in his arms, to lean back against him, was hard to resist. Forcing herself to move, she stepped forward, but failed to break the contact between them, or the electric connection, as Rico slowly turned her to face him. Several seconds ticked by as they watched each other in silence.

‘Green.’

Ruth stared at him in confusion. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Your eyes,’ he explained, voice husky. ‘I expected them to be blue.’

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you.’

Her response was sharper than she had intended but his comment had played on her insecurities, her belief that she never met expectations. She turned her head away, discomfited by his inspection, angry with herself for her naivety. Even if she wanted more than the possibility of working with him—which she didn’t, she was swift to try and convince herself—she could never be enough for a man as successful, intelligent and good looking as him. The intense and shocking moment of connection when they had first looked at each other had clearly short-circuited her brain.

Ruth was startled when he caught her face, his hold gentle but insistent as he drew her gaze back to his. She couldn’t decipher the expression in his eyes, but her own widened in surprise, a tremor running through her as the pad of his thumb brushed across the little indentation between her lower lip and her chin. Her skin tingled from his touch. She’d had no idea she was so sensitive there.

‘You mistake my meaning, carissima. I was in no way making a complaint.’ His voice dropped to a rough purr and her insides clenched in response. The intensity with which he looked at her made her feel as if she were the tastiest morsel he had ever seen and he was very, very hungry. ‘Your eyes are beautiful. There is nothing remotely disappointing about them—or any part of you.’ He paused, regarding her for a moment in speculative silence before stroking his fingertips softly across her cheek, leaving little fires burning in his wake. ‘That you should think so is something we will have to address later.’ After a quick glance at his watch, he released her. ‘Now it is time for us to leave.’

Hooking the strap of her bag over one shoulder, she preceded Rico out of the room and locked the door. As she made to move down the corridor towards the main stairs and lifts, Rico caught her hand, a wicked smile on his face as he led her in the opposite direction.

‘Rico, where are we going?’ she asked, her fingers linking far too naturally and easily with his.

‘We are playing truant, carissima.’

The staged whisper, followed by a sexy wink, sent a tremor down her spine. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked as he opened a door that led to the back stairway used only by staff or in case of emergency.

‘If we stay here we will have little peace,’ he told her, leading the way down and keeping her close. ‘I am selfish enough to want you all to myself, so I have arranged for us to have dinner away from the hotel. If we go down the normal way we will be accosted long before we can reach the front door.’ On the ground floor, he peeped down the deserted corridor, then pushed open the fire exit and drew her outside with him, making sure the door clicked safely back into place behind them. ‘There is a taxi waiting for us. Our escape to carry out our secret mission is more fun, no?’

It was, Ruth admitted, unable to hold back a smile. She caught his arm as he made to step out into the open, and there was a query in his eyes as he turned back to look at her.

‘You make for the car, Agent Linardi, and I’ll cover you,’ she told him in a terrible attempt at an American accent, ruining her efforts by giggling.

Rico’s answering chuckle warmed her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, as did the delighted appreciation in his eyes that she was playing along. ‘Good thinking, Agent Baxter. When I give the signal, make a run for it,’ he instructed, adopting an even worse accent than hers.

A moment later Rico waved to her and she hurried across to join him. They were both laughing as he opened the rear door of the taxi and bundled her inside. She slid along the backseat, feeling wonderfully light-hearted as he climbed in beside her, then he leaned forward to greet the driver and give him the address of the restaurant. Not for the first time that day she wondered how this man could make her feel cherished one moment and as if her whole ordered existence was threatened the next.

Rico also made her feel valued. When he had told her how impressed he was with her quick study and her natural abilities, Ruth had been flattered and warmed by his praise. His words had meant more to her than he, or anyone else, would ever know. People saw her as cool, self-confident, even emotionless, but she was none of those things. That image was a façade, a shield she had cultivated in order to function and to hide the doubts and rejections, the disappointments and lack of self-worth that she had experienced for as long as she could remember.

She may not like it, but she recognised that her craving for acceptance, her need to please and to belong, stemmed back to her childhood. And, deep inside, a part of her still yearned for approval, still struggled to be good enough. Her patients were appreciative, her few friends supportive, but it was Rico who had demonstrated the kind of belief in her that she had once longed, forlornly, to receive from her hyper-critical parents.

Rico had accepted her intelligence and had encouraged her to push herself, challenging her over the past month with the questions he had posed in his emails. She had been fascinated and had spent any spare time studying the topics he had raised—much to the despair of Gina and Holly, who had literally dragged her out with them on several occasions, claiming she would burn out if she didn’t have some fun time. What they couldn’t understand was that she thrived on learning and stretching her mind. Rico’s emails had invigorated her. In person he was so much more.

As the taxi driver engaged Rico in conversation, Ruth leaned back and reviewed the way the day had unfolded after the morning coffee break. It was hard to believe that she had only met this man in person ten hours ago. She still knew little about him, and yet she felt as if she had known him forever.

When the morning session of talks had ended, Rico had rejoined her, staying close and making sure to sit next to her at lunch. He had introduced her to the people at their table, and to many others during the afternoon, especially those whose work he thought would interest her.

Rico’s workshop had been incredible, and although he had often singled her out with testing questions, she hadn’t felt awkward, and his obvious approval when she had got things right had made her feel good. As he’d walked around the room, talking, questioning, presenting examples, his brief but frequent touches as he passed her—a hand resting on her shoulder or her head—had seemed to be instinctive, unconscious gestures, and always discreet, out of sight of the other people present. They increased her awareness of him but also gave her the novel feeling of being special and cared for. It had been a heady experience and she feared it would be all too easy to lose her head over this man.

He was very protective and whilst he made her feel incredibly safe, she also knew the very real danger he posed. Aside from his stunning looks, his presence and his masculinity, she was drawn to his intelligence and his humour. And his voice had a crazy effect on her. It couldn’t just be his accent, Ruth mused. There were two Italian doctors living and working in or around Strathlochan—Gina’s fiancé, who worked with her at the drop-in centre, and Nic di Angelis, a GP from the practice in Lochanrig, one of the neighbouring villages. Both were handsome and charming men, and Ruth was comfortable with them, but neither affected her in the slightest. Not that way. No man ever had. Except Rico.

Ruth was roused from her reverie when the man in question rested one hand on her knee. The touch was light and yet it burned her like a brand, sparking a fresh wave of desire, flames of it flaring through her whole body. The magnetic pull was too strong to resist and she looked at him, feeling the now-familiar jolt as their gazes connected. A slow smile curved his mouth, tightening the ache deep inside her.

‘You are all right, carissima?’

Ruth wasn’t at all sure she was, but she managed a shaky smile in return. ‘I’m fine.’

‘We are here,’ Rico told her, and she realised she had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she had not noticed that the taxi had stopped.

Rico opened the door and climbed out, taking her hand again when she joined him on the pavement. Having thanked and paid the taxi driver, they walked a few yards along the seafront, enjoying the early evening sun glinting off the expanse of the bay.

‘Were we followed, Agent Linardi?’ she murmured, pretending to look around and continuing their charade.

A sexy smile curved Rico’s mouth. ‘I think we have given them the slip for now, Agent Baxter. We can discuss our secret mission while we eat.’

Inside, the restaurant was inviting and warm, with muted lighting, soft background music and a welcoming ambiance. Ruth appreciated Rico’s innate good manners as he helped her off with her coat before removing his jacket. He rested a hand on her hip, keeping her close to him. So close she felt his body heat and was aware of and aroused by his heady, masculine scent.

‘One of the hotel staff recommended this place,’ Rico told her when they had been shown to an alarmingly intimate and secluded table in a quiet corner at the back of the restaurant.

Ruth manufactured a scandalised expression. ‘You compromised our mission?’

‘Do not worry.’ Rico leaned closer, his voice dropping. ‘My informant will not give us away.’

The return of the waiter with menus and a basket of bread sticks curtailed further silliness, and Ruth sat back to assess the selection of dishes available.

‘If the food is not to your taste, we can go somewhere else,’ Rico offered, reverting to his normal voice.

Ruth shook her head. ‘No, this is lovely,’ she assured him, her mouth watering as she made her choice from the menu.

She liked the fact that Rico asked her opinion. Even when she had asked him not to, Adam had always arrogantly ordered for them both when they had gone out, and she had hated that. Not only had she been perfectly able to make decisions for herself, but he had invariably picked things she did not enjoy and had then had the effrontery to take umbrage if she had not liked something or had asked to change it. Rico, by contrast, treated her with respect, and as an equal,

They sat at the small, attractively set table, out of sight of the other diners in the restaurant. Rico was at right angles to her and so close that his leg brushed against hers. His hand toyed with her fingers or rested on the back of her chair, touching her shoulder, her neck, stroking her hair, and the attention was flattering but overwhelming, keeping her on a knife-edge.

After discussing the food and wine, and discovering that they had similar tastes, they gave their orders to the waiter. Ruth felt relaxed and able to talk to Rico about anything. And he made her laugh as no other man had done. He showed no sign that he found her brains intimidating, something she had encountered so often in the past. It was a refreshing experience and eased some of her tension. Not that she could ever forget or escape the awareness that increased each minute she spent with him. The sexual desire was unfamiliar, scary, yet undeniably exciting. She was completely out of her depth and the only life raft she could cling to was Rico himself—the very cause of her venturing into uncharted waters in the first place.

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