Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride (Lakeside Mountain Rescue 6)

‘Why not?’

‘Because—No.’ Her gaze slid from his. ‘I’ll make myself some toast before I go to bed.’

‘Toast?’ Having never eaten toast for dinner in his life, Stefano looked at her in amazement. ‘I’m suggesting we go out to eat and you’re choosing toast?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Loads of reasons.’ She fiddled with the strap of her handbag, her discomfort so acute that it was almost painful to watch. ‘I’m not dressed for a fancy restaurant and I can’t afford to eat out.’

The change in her was startling. Working with him in Resus she’d been a poised, confident professional, but faced with a trip to a restaurant she’d become a shy, awkward woman. And she wasn’t even looking him in the eye.

Instinctively taking control, Stefano reached across and undid her seat belt, noticing the way she flattened herself against the seat again. ‘It isn’t fancy and this is my treat. A thank-you for having made my life easier in the department.

‘Mr Lucarelli, I really can’t—’

‘Liv, I’m buying you a bowl of spaghetti, that’s all.’ He’d never before had to persuade a woman to have dinner with him and she was obviously well aware of that fact because she shot him an agonised look.

‘There must be someone else you can take!’ Her tone bordered on the desperate and he gave a faint smile.

‘You’re not doing much for my ego. Is the thought of facing me across a bowl of spaghetti really that terrifying?’

‘No! It isn’t you, it’s me. I’m just not—’ She broke off, clearly finding the situation painfully awkward. ‘I’m not very exciting company, that’s all.’

Accustomed to being with women who were confident both socially and sexually, it took him a moment to adjust to the contrast.

He studied her face in silence, taking in the self-doubt in her eyes and the touch of colour in her cheeks. ‘Liv, what is the matter with you? Do you really expect me to believe that you can handle the most demanding medical emergency with total confidence but can’t wind spaghetti onto a fork and talk at the same time?’

She gave a reluctant laugh. ‘I suppose it’s all about practice. I’m more confident at Resus-speak than dinner-table-speak.’

‘Fine, then we’ll talk about pelvic fractures. Or we won’t talk at all. I really don’t care, just as long as I eat something in the next five minutes.’ He extracted her from the car and propelled her, still protesting, through the door of the restaurant.

They were instantly enveloped by warmth and delicious smells and Liv hesitated on the threshold, scanning the room like a gazelle sensing danger.

All evidence of the cool professional had left her and she looked so painfully unsure of herself that for a moment Stefano thought she might actually turn and run. He planted himself behind her, watching as she took in the cheerful red tablecloths, the enormous Christmas tree and the cosy, informality of the place.

Then she turned her head and gave him a hesitant smile. ‘It’s nice.’

‘Sì, I know. Just wait until you taste the pasta. It’s incredible.’ Stefano tried to peel the coat from her shoulders, but she clutched at it self consciously.

‘I’ll keep it on. I’m not dressed to go out to dinner,’ she muttered and he gently but firmly uncurled her fingers.

‘You can’t eat dinner in your coat. This is a very informal place.’ He prised the coat from her grip and handed it to the waiter. ‘No one dresses up to come here and anyway, you look fine.’

She looked a lot better than fine. Without the protection of the coat he could see that her legs went on for ever and the way that her skinny rib jumper clung to her gorgeous curves drew the attention of several men in the room, but he decided that to comment on her appearance would just make her even more uncomfortable.

She obviously had no idea how attractive she was.

Which made a refreshing change from the women he usually mixed with, he thought wryly, recalling Francine’s endless preoccupation with her own reflection.

Not wanting to risk increasing Liv’s anxiety levels by offering her a menu, he turned to the owner and spoke in rapid Italian, telling him where they wanted to sit and what they wanted to eat.

The owner led them to a quiet table by the window and Liv gave a soft gasp of delight.

‘We’re right next to the river here—I didn’t realise. It’s so pretty, especially in the dark when it’s all lit up and you can’t see the dirt.’

‘This restaurant is a hidden gem. I discovered it on a trip to London a few years ago. Because you approach it via all the back streets, you don’t realise that it’s by the Thames. What can I get you to drink? Champagne?’