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The Italian's Passionate Proposal
Sarah Morgan
Dark, handsome and impossibly wealthy surgeon Carlo Santini can have any woman he wants. But working alongside nurse Suzannah Wilde at St. Catherine's hospital, it's hard for him to deny the sexual attraction simmering between them!Zan knows Carlo is holding something back from her, but all the same invites him to spend the festive season with her; only to discover that the caring baby doctor by day is a passionate, demanding lover by night….
This story is partly set in an English hospital. To aid your enjoyment, here is a guide to some of the terms and expressions used:
A&E (Accident & Emergency)—Emergency Room
Community midwife—a registered general nurse with specialist training in midwifery, or the delivery of infants.
Health visitor—a nurse trained in preventative medicine and midwifery, who educates people caring for dependents, e.g., babies or the elderly.
House officer—a hospital-based trainee doctor; also known as an intern or resident.
ITU—Intensive Therapy Unit; a hospital department where intensive care is given to those patients in a critical condition or after major operations.
Locum—a doctor who temporarily stands in for another, due to absence or illness.
NHS—National Health Service; the U.K. public health system, which offers medical and surgical care, and is funded by taxpayers.
Obstetrician—a medical professional specializing in the care of women during pregnancy, labor and the period immediately after the birth.
Consultant—a senior medical professional specializing in an area of medicine.
Senior registrar—a specialist surgeon or doctor who is subordinate to a consultant, but senior to the house officers.
SHO—senior house officer; after registration, a doctor who continues working in a hospital can be appointed to this full-time training position.
They’re guaranteed to raise your pulse!
Meet the most eligible medical men in the world, in our ongoing series of stories by popular authors that will make your heart race!
Whether they’re saving lives or dealing with desire, our doctors have bedside manners that send temperatures soaring….
Available only from Harlequin Presents
The Italian’s Passionate Proposal
Sarah Morgan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
THE freezing air was thick with softly falling snowflakes and the darkened streets of the East End of London were totally deserted. With less than a week to go until Christmas, most people were at home, decorating trees and wrapping presents.
Carlo Santini was barely aware of the inhospitable nature of his surroundings. He was restless and on edge, frustrated beyond belief by recent developments in his life. A frown on his handsome face, he paced rhythmically along the icy pavement, his footsteps muffled by the thick covering of snow, the collar of his black coat turned up against the cold.
He’d been warned to keep to his apartment and the hospital but he was totally fed up with the warnings.
In fact, he was so disillusioned with his life that when things had finally come to a head and he’d been ordered to leave Italy for a short time, he’d been only too happy to comply.
His old life was starting to feel like a prison.
Having enormous wealth was a fantasy for most people but for Carlo the reality had become an increasing burden over the years and he embraced the chance to pretend that it didn’t exist, even for a few precious weeks. Being forced to come to London and work under an assumed name was a gift that he was determined to grab with both hands.
For the first time in his whole life, no one would know who he was.
People would respond to his medical and personal skills rather than his reputation as a billionaire playboy or his impressive connections.
Suddenly aware of just how quiet the streets were, Carlo narrowed his eyes and took a brief look around. He’d always refused to have a personal bodyguard and the recent threats to his life hadn’t changed that. He preferred to look out for himself.
He gave a slight smile. Matteo Parini, his father’s chief of security, was probably in their London apartment biting his nails at this very moment, wondering where he was.
And Carlo was under no illusions about his safety. Even hidden in the East End of London under an assumed name, he wasn’t safe. Not until they caught the men who were threatening his life. But at least for a few hours he could pretend that nothing was wrong.
Suddenly aware that two men had appeared in the street ahead of him, he tensed his broad shoulders slightly. They were walking slowly and Carlo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he watched them.
Why would they be dawdling when it was below freezing? It was hardly the night for a winter stroll.
Then he saw one of them glance across the street and for the first time noticed a young boy, slight in build, hurrying along the pavement, clutching a stuffed bin bag, his eyes down as he struggled against the snow.
Guessing their intention before they’d even acted, Carlo removed his hands from his pockets, his lean features suddenly showing a strength of purpose. Without drawing attention to himself, he increased his pace, every sense on alert as he closed the distance between them.
With no warning they suddenly turned and sprinted across the snowy street, attacking the young boy viciously, grabbing the bin bag that he was carrying and pushing him roughly to the ground.
Carlo’s eyes gleamed and adrenaline rushed through his veins, but before he could reach them the young boy was back on his feet, lithe and agile. He grabbed one of the men in a classic judo hold and threw him heavily onto the pavement.
Carlo winced at the sickening thud and gave a surprised smile.
Maybe the lad didn’t need his help after all. He seemed to be doing pretty well by himself.
Or maybe not…
As the man lay groaning on the ground, his accomplice grabbed the boy round the throat and Carlo saw a flash of steel.
His blood heating, he moved swiftly, using the element of surprise to his advantage, attacking the man from behind and enclosing his wrist in a deadly grip until the knife fell to the ground.
‘Let him go…’ He couldn’t think of a suitable word in English so he switched to Italian, twisting the man’s arm behind his back in a ruthless hold that forced him to release the boy.
The other attacker scrambled to his feet, winded by the fall, bracing himself for a fight.
Breathing heavily, he caught the cold, dangerous look in Carlo’s eyes and backed away, his change of heart evident.
‘Hey, it wasn’t my idea…’
He glared at his friend, still held captive by Carlo’s deadly hold, and then turned and ran for it, sprinting away as fast as he could, slipping and sliding on the snowy street in his haste to put distance between them.
Swearing fluently, the other man whimpered with the pain in his arm and Carlo reluctantly let him go, kicking the knife out of reach, cold fury erupting inside him. Why were they attacking a kid?
Rubbing his arm, the man gave an angry snarl, landed a final vicious kick in the boy’s stomach and then turned and ran after his friend.
Carlo was itching to chase them but he was aware that the young boy was doubled up in pain from the kick. He reached out a hand to offer support and found himself flat on his back on the pavement, staring up at the stars.
How the hell had that happened?
He was an expert in several martial arts and had spent his entire life prepared to defend himself. He just hadn’t expected to have to defend himself from someone who didn’t even reach his chin and whom he’d just rescued.
But clearly the boy didn’t realise he was being rescued.
Grunting with pain, every muscle in his body protesting, Carlo struggled to sit up and then ducked as a booted foot flew in the direction of his face.
‘Stay away from me, you scum!’
Deciding that this was becoming dangerous, he grabbed the foot and brought the boy down as gently as he could, rolling on top of him so that he could hold him securely.
‘I’m not trying to hurt you,’ he gritted, grabbing both arms and pinning the boy to the pavement. Finally the boy stopped wriggling and glared up at him defiantly and Carlo felt something shift in his stomach.
He’d never seen a boy with eyes that beautiful.
They were an amazing shade of green, fringed with thick lashes that were inky black.
Following through on a totally male instinct, he released the boy’s hands and jerked off the woolly hat, sucking in his breath as soft dark hair tumbled down and trailed in the snow.
Not a boy…
His last coherent thought was that she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life.
And then she hit him.
Carlo winced as her small fist made contact with his cheekbone, pain splitting the side of his face. He swore fluently in Italian and moved his jaw gingerly, testing for fractures.
He’d say this for the girl, she certainly knew how to fight. Why had he ever thought she needed his protection?
Careful not to hurt her, he shifted himself so that he pinned her more securely and caught hold of her hands as she struggled.
‘Porca miseria, I’m not attacking you,’ he growled impatiently. ‘I’m rescuing you!’
Her eyes were blazing up into his, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.
‘Rescuing me? You’re not rescuing me, you’re suffocating me! And ranting at me in a strange language. Let me go!’
She was gorgeous.
Utterly captivated, Carlo gave her a lazy smile but didn’t move an inch. He was enjoying it far too much to move. The feel of her soft, womanly body under his was fantastic. How could he ever have thought she was a boy?
He must be losing it…
Her outraged glare faded and she stared up at him, her stunning green eyes locking with his. ‘Are you going to lie on top of me all night?’
Given the chance, yes.
‘Is that an invitation?’ Carlo knew he ought to move and help her up, but all he wanted to do was bend his head and kiss her.
So he did.
As his mouth came down on hers he hung onto her hands, fully expecting her to take another swipe at him, but after the briefest hesitation her soft lips parted and she kissed him back, sighing slightly as he used all the skill of his thirty-four years to seduce a response from her.
When he finally dragged his mouth away from hers he felt drugged. It had only been a taste but it had been enough to make him want the whole meal.
‘Wh-what did you do that for?’ Those amazing green eyes were still staring up at him, and for the first time in his life Carlo found it difficult to string a coherent sentence together. His body and brain felt disconnected.
‘Kiss of life,’ he murmured huskily, his mind and body still focused on her mouth. ‘They were pretty rough with you—I thought maybe…’
‘I don’t think it worked.’ Her expression was slightly dazed and her voice was smoky and feminine. ‘Want to try it again?’
Carlo lowered his head and kissed her thoroughly, this time releasing his grip so that he could use his hands to haul her body even closer to his.
He felt her shudder under him, felt her slim arms slide round his neck, and for endless moments he was lost in the soft, sweet wonder of her mouth.
Then he heard a shout from the pavement opposite and rolled to his feet, instantly alert.
Be discreet, his father and brother had said.
Lying on a snowy pavement kissing a gorgeous female in full view of anyone who happened to pass probably didn’t qualify, he admitted ruefully, reaching down a hand to pull her up.
She staggered to her feet and then jerked her hand away as if his touch had singed her.
‘I can’t believe we just did that.’ She backed away from him and lifted her fingers to her lips, her expression stunned. ‘I can’t believe I let you kiss me. You’re a stranger. I don’t kiss strangers.’
She looked confused and wary, and he forced himself to stand still and give her some space. He could hardly blame her for being nervous of him. After all, she’d just been mugged.
