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‘He’s never told me, and I don’t push it or I won’t get to see Kelly at all.’ She glanced sideways and tried not to stare.
She’d never met anyone as strikingly good-looking as Carlo before. Tall, dark-haired and loaded with sex appeal, he exuded a strength and confidence that was magnetic. If she’d had to pick one word to describe him, it would have been male. Carlo was very, very male.
And he had good shoulders.
She remembered the weight of his body when he’d lain on top of her and smiled slightly. For once she could walk home without worrying.
Who in their right mind would pick a fight with him?
Carlo was frowning. ‘Do you have to visit them?’
‘Well, if I don’t then she gets no antenatal care whatsoever,’ Zan told him, crossing over the road so that they could walk next to the river. Fairy lights had been strung between the trees and their reflection danced over the surface of the water. ‘Social Services first told me that she was pregnant, but she hasn’t seen a doctor once in her whole pregnancy. To start with Mike wouldn’t let me in, but I’ve worked on him and now I get to see her. I’m hoping that if she sees enough of me I’ll be able to get her to trust me.’
‘She needs a biophysical assessment,’ Carlo said, and Zan nodded.
He was referring to an established technique using ultrasound to look at the baby and to measure the heart-rate.
‘I know. The truth is she needs a lot of things she isn’t getting. It’s very worrying, but we can only do the best we can. It’s hard enough getting access at all.’
She felt his eyes slide over her. ‘Presumably that’s why you dress like that? Because they’re suspicious of authority?’
He was smart; she’d give him that.
‘That’s true, but I also hate walking around this area at night,’ she confessed. ‘I might be a black belt in judo but I’m not stupid. If I have to do it then I dress down and I wear trainers. If anyone suspected I was medical they’d be attacking me for drugs.’
‘It isn’t a suitable place for a woman to be working.’ His gaze darkened ominously and she chuckled.
‘Are you always this macho?’
‘Of course.’ Carlo’s arrogant dark head lifted and a wry smile touched his handsome face. ‘I’m Italian, remember? Despite our efforts to be politically correct, deep down we still expect our women to stay at home and warm the bed for us.’
The mention of bed brought a faint colour to her cheeks. Whoever warmed his bed would be a very lucky woman, but she wasn’t telling him that. ‘Someone must have forgotten to tell you that this is the twenty-first century.’
He didn’t smile, his gaze disturbingly direct. ‘It’s not a safe area for you to work in.’
He was breathtakingly good-looking and Zan was finding it hard to peel her eyes away from him.
‘I work here because it’s challenging and I’m really doing some good.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘This isn’t what you’re used to, is it? You looked pretty shocked when you saw the flat.’
He pulled a face and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. ‘Was it that obvious?’
‘Only to me. Don’t worry about it. I was pretty shocked myself when I first came here after twenty years of middle-class upbringing. It’s a real eye-opener. Lots of teenage pregnancies, lots of unmarried mothers with several children by different men, and every flat you visit has a German shepherd dog the size of a wolf.’ She stepped gingerly over a patch of ice. ‘I suppose I’d have one, too, if I lived in this area. The dogs used to be the worst part of the job for me, but generally I’ve got used to them. Do you have dogs at home?’
He hesitated and then nodded. ‘Yes, dogs don’t bother me. So, why did you learn judo?’
Zan smiled and huddled more deeply into her coat to keep out the cold. ‘I have four older brothers. My father was going for a five-a-side rugby team but then they had me.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, they all decided that I needed to know how to take care of myself just in case they weren’t around to do it for me.’
‘Sensible.’
‘No, massively over-protective,’ she said dryly. ‘They’ve scared off every boyfriend I’ve ever had.’
Carlo looked at her curiously. ‘But you’re close?’
‘I adore them,’ she said simply. ‘Growing up with four big brothers was just the best thing in the world. We had such fun.’
‘But they’ve taught you to be wary of men?’
She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, they have. I may love my brothers but I’d hate to be anything other than their baby sister. They’re rogues, and when they were growing up they treated women appallingly. I’ve learned lots about men by watching them. And because they know exactly how men think and act, they scare off anyone male who shows an interest in me.’
‘Ouch.’ Carlo gave a rueful smile and glanced around him at the dark shadows. ‘So can I expect to be pounced on any moment?’
Zan looked at his shoulders and laughed. ‘I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about. So, now you know about me, how about you? All I know is that you’re part-Italian. What I want to know is, which part?’
He shot her a suggestive smile that was so sexy she almost stopped breathing.
‘If you’re good, I’ll show you later.’
His teasing drawl made her blush, but she couldn’t help smiling. There was something so good-humoured and honest about him.
‘Well, judging from your slight accent and the fact that you were muttering something incomprehensible when you were lying on top of me, I assume that Italian is your first language. Which must mean that you live over there usually. So what are you doing in London?’
‘Having a change from Italy.’ His answer was so smooth and glib that she looked at him closely, wondering if he was hiding something. He caught her look and smiled. ‘Plenty of doctors from EC countries come and work in England. It isn’t unusual.’
‘So where were you working last?’
‘In a private clinic outside Milan.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘Most of my patients were nothing like Kelly, I’m afraid.’
‘Too posh to push?’
He smiled in appreciation. ‘Something like that.’
‘Well, it was decent of you to take a look at Kelly for me.’ She glanced at him. ‘Don’t think I don’t know that most doctors would have refused. Too worried about litigation.’
Carlo looked unconcerned. ‘I’m well insured.’
And very experienced and self-confident. She also suspected that he would never refuse to help a patient. He was that type of man.
‘This is where I live.’ Zan stopped outside a block of flats and Carlo leaned against the wall, his eyes watchful.
‘So…’ he drawled softly. ‘Are you going to invite me up?’
She stared at him, caught by the intensity of his gaze. Excitement curled in the pit of her stomach and she struggled to be sensible.
‘I don’t usually invite strangers up to my flat.’
His smile had a peculiar effect on her knees and she felt them wobble alarmingly. ‘I’m very glad to hear that.’ He moved fractionally closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘But we’ve already kissed twice and spent an evening together so we’re not exactly strangers.’
She laughed to disguise her awareness of him.
‘We spent the evening in a filthy flat with a man who wanted to hit both of us. Is that your idea of a perfect first date?’
‘It was different,’ he admitted, his gaze dropping to her mouth and lingering there. ‘You can trust me, Zan.’
She hesitated, common sense wrestling with temptation.
‘I don’t know anything about you.’
Except that he was strong, clever and stunningly good-looking.
‘What do you want to know?’ He smiled down at her. ‘I’m Italian, I’m an obstetrician, I have one older brother and one younger sister. I also have a black eye.’
She smiled back and then looked at him cautiously. ‘You’re not married?’
His gaze didn’t shift from hers. ‘No wife. No kids.’
She bit her lip. Would it be such a big mistake to invite him up?
She paused a moment longer and then made up her mind. She pushed open the swing doors and led him into the deserted entrance hall. ‘I’m on the top floor.’
They walked towards the lift and she pressed the button, watching the lift doors close and wondering what on earth she was doing, taking a total stranger back to her flat.
Was she mad?
Her brothers would have thrown a fit.
But then she’d spent most of the past twenty-four years being cautious, and frankly she was getting impatient with herself. It was time she lived a little. Time she trusted her own instincts.
And her instincts about Carlo were all good.
She loved his wicked sense of humour, the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled, and she loved his easy confidence. There was something about him that was tough and kind and, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise, the fact that he’d stepped in and rescued her made her insides squishy. It might not be politically correct to have a tough man looking after you but the truth was it had felt good.
Better than good.
It would be a long time before she forgot the feel of that hard muscle pressing her down onto the snowy pavement or the taste of his warm lips as he’d kissed her.
She shivered slightly with nerves and excitement as she remembered that kiss. Until tonight she’d always thought that kissing was a very overrated pastime.
She’d obviously been kissing the wrong men.
She sneaked a sideways look at him, still finding it hard to believe that he was a doctor. All the doctors she’d ever met were mild-mannered and academic or just plain arrogant. Carlo was none of those things. He was all muscle and strength, mixed with a wickedly sexy sense of humour.
He intercepted her look and gave her a smile that reminded her of his kiss. Hot and exciting.
She dragged some air into her lungs and leaned against the wall of the lift for support. If all Italian men looked like him she was moving to Italy.
The lift pinged as it arrived at her floor and she made an effort to stand upright.
‘You’d better prepare yourself,’ she warned him as she scrabbled in her pocket for the key. ‘I call it the penthouse because it’s on the top floor and the view are great, but trust me when I say that the resemblance ends there. When I win the Lottery I’m buying something bigger. You can’t swing a cat in here…’
She pushed the key in the lock and then paused, aware that he was staring at her oddly. ‘What? What have I said?’
‘Why would you want to swing a cat?’ His accent was marked as he repeated her words. ‘I thought you English were supposed to like animals?’
‘We do. Well, some of us do.’ Zan grinned. ‘It’s just an expression.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Totally incomprehensible language. I thought my English was good, but evidently I still have a lot to learn.’
Carlo had gorgeous eyes—very dark brown and fringed with sinfully thick, dark lashes that he used to hide his expression when it suited him. And it suited him often. She suspected that he wasn’t an easy man to read.
‘Don’t worry—I’ll teach you.’ Zan opened the door and walked into her flat, flicking on the light.
The pale wooden floor was covered in plastic packets and bags from various shops, and she shot him an embarrassed look as she started to scoop them all up.
‘You needn’t hide the packaging from me,’ he said, his tone amused. ‘I was well aware that all that baby stuff you gave her was brand-new.’
She clutched the evidence to her chest and looked at him in dismay. ‘Oh, no! I tried to rumple them and make them look old. Do you think they guessed?’
‘I think Kelly was too pleased to notice.’ He moved closer to her and removed one of the plastic wrappers from her grasp, lifting an eyebrow as he saw the price. ‘Do you always spend your money on your patients?’
She blushed and snatched the wrapper back. ‘No. Well, sometimes. I like Kelly and I feel sorry for her.’
He looked at her for a long moment and she felt the breath jam in her throat. Just looking at him made her legs shaky.
As if he’d guessed her thoughts, he gave a lopsided smile and strolled over to the huge windows that made up one wall of her tiny flat.
‘Fantastic view.’
‘Thanks.’ She tugged the hat off her head and shook her dark hair like a kitten in a rainstorm. Typical. She had a man to die for in her flat and she looked as though she’d been dunked in a puddle. ‘I’ve never bothered with curtains. No one can see in so it didn’t seem worth it.’
‘It’s a nice flat.’
She smiled. ‘Well, like I said, it’s the penthouse, but when I win the Lottery I’m buying a bigger version.’
For a moment he didn’t respond, and then he turned, a strange light in his eyes. ‘You do the Lottery? Is money important to you?’
‘No.’ She tossed the rubbish into the bin and smiled cheerfully. ‘Just what it buys. I love to dream, don’t you?’
He sucked in a breath and looked taken aback. ‘Well, I…’
‘Oh, come on!’ She tugged off her boots and coat and dropped onto the sofa, cross-legged. ‘Everyone dreams of winning the Lottery. Even people who never remember to do it!’
He was looking at her curiously, arms folded across his broad chest. ‘So what would you buy?’
‘I don’t know, the usual things…’ She shrugged. ‘A house in a better area, a car so that I don’t have to walk around at night.’
‘Would you give up your job?’
‘Oh, no!’ Her expression was horrified. ‘I love my job. And just think, if I won money I’d be able to rehouse Kelly and Mike without having to bow and scrape to Social Services all the time.’
