Italian Surgeon to the Stars

I suppressed a shiver as his thumb began a slow stroke, back and forth, making every nerve beneath my skin shiver and shriek out for more. He had a mesmerising touch, gentle and yet strong. Confident. Assured. As if he knew my body like a maestro knows his favourite instrument.

Actually, it was a pretty accurate analogy, because I was as strung up as an over-tuned violin. I could feel every nerve and muscle in my body pulling taut. My insides practically shuddered with longing.

How could he possibly have that effect on me after all this time? I hated him for how he’d used me. I detested his smooth-talking artifice. Saying he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me when all he’d wanted to do was send a message to his stunningly beautiful ex that he’d moved on.

Why had I been so dumb as to fall for that? I wasn’t proud of my history for falling for charming lies. The event during my early teens which I refuse to mention came about because of my naivety when it came to men and their lies.

But I’m older and wiser now. Tough as old goat’s knees, that’s me. No one can charm me nowadays—which is kind of why I haven’t been out on a date in years. I don’t care if men are put off by me. I’m fine with it. I don’t want the fairy tale, like my sister. I’m not hankering after some guy to lock me away in the suburbs with two-point-five kids and a mortgage.

Besides, I have more than enough kids to take care of at school. Mothering at a distance. I can handle that. I’m darn good at it too.

I unpeeled Alessandro’s fingers as I gave him a look of utter contempt. ‘I don’t think you heard me, Dr Lucioni.’

Dr Lucioni? Snort. Who was I kidding? No amount of formality was going to wipe away the memory of our affair. It was a presence in the room.

Sheesh. There I went with the paranormal thing again. But really—it was. I felt the erotic tension in the air like a singing wire. The memories of how we were together were swirling around inside my head. From behind the wall of my resolve I caught glimpses of our bodies locked together in passion. Rocking together, straining, writhing, climbing the summit of human pleasure until we both came apart. His long, tanned hairy legs entwined intimately with mine. His arms wrapped around me, holding me to him as if he never wanted to let me go. His mouth …

I should not have thought about his mouth. His mouth had wreaked such havoc on my senses. He had used his mouth in ways I had not experienced before. No one had ever pleasured me that way. I hadn’t allowed them to. But with him it had felt natural. Damn it, it had felt like he was worshipping my body. It had added a level of sanctity to our lovemaking that was sadly lacking in my past experiences … especially the one I refuse to mention.

Alessandro gave me one of his half smiles—a twitch of his lips that was borderline mocking. ‘You think you can erase what we had?’

I rubbed at my wrist as if it had been stung, glaring at him so hard my eyes hurt. ‘I would appreciate it if you would refrain from referring to our … association whilst within the parameters of this school.’

I sounded so priggish I almost laughed out loud. Bertie would have been doubled over at me.

His eyes took on a glint that did serious damage to my equilibrium—if indeed I had any in the first place, which I suspect I didn’t.

‘I’ve told my niece we’re old friends,’ he said. ‘I thought it would help her to feel less threatened by coming here.’

I widened my eyes. I’m not talking cup-and-saucer wide. I’m talking satellite-dish wide, like those ones on the International Space Station.

‘What?’

‘You have a problem with making a small child feel a little more secure?’

I whooshed out a stormy breath. ‘I have a problem with you fabricating a relationship between us that doesn’t exist.’

‘It did once.’

I sent him another death-adder stare. ‘I beg to differ. How can you stand there and say we had something together when you failed to mention the fact that you’d recently broken up with your gold-digging fiancée? Not to mention your lies about not having a family. You lied to me from day one, Alessandro.’

I mentally kicked myself for using his Christian name. It was too personal. Too informal. Too intimate.

‘You have a sister and a niece and God knows who else. That’s not what people in a relationship do. They share stuff. Important stuff.’

I felt a teeny-weeny twinge of guilt at my statement. I hadn’t told him my important stuff, but I refused to see it as important. It was not worth thinking about. I hated thinking about it. It gave me nightmares to think about it. It was so long ago. I had packed away the sickening memories behind layers of I’m-a-tough-girl-don’t-mess-with-me bravado.

‘I would’ve told you in time.’

I rolled my eyes in disdain. ‘Like when?’ I said. ‘On our fiftieth wedding anniversary?’

Ack! There’s another word I loathe. Wedding.

‘But there wasn’t going to be a wedding, was there? Or even an engagement. Our quick-fire affair was all for show. After you’d achieved your aim of royally annoying your ex you would’ve neatly extricated yourself from our—’ I put my fingers up in air quotation marks ‘—”relationship” and moved on to your next conquest. You’re just annoyed I saw through you and got out first.’

His eyes held mine in a dark, unreadable lock. ‘I’m not here to talk about the past. I’m here to talk about my niece’s future.’

I gave him a narrow look. ‘Why this school?’

His eyes didn’t waver as they held mine. ‘I told you. It’s convenient for where I’ll be living.’

‘So you’re thinking of settling down at some point?’

Why are you asking that? I thought. You. Do. Not. Care.

‘At some point.’

I was like a dog with a bone. A terrier, that’s me. Now I had him here I wanted to know everything—even the stuff I didn’t want to know. Maybe it wasn’t a bone I was hanging on to. It was a smelly old carcass I was rolling in.

‘Are you in a relationship with someone at present?’ I said.

‘No.’

‘What about the blonde the other week?’

His eyes glinted as if in triumph. ‘Was that your sister with you?’

I glowered at him. Why had I allowed myself to fall into his trap so easily? But then, I thought, what was the point in denying I’d seen him? It was making me look foolish, and the last thing I wanted was to appear foolish and gauche in front of him.

‘Yes. Who was your date?’

‘The practice manager from my consulting rooms.’

I only just managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I could just imagine the ‘practice’ they’d get up to.

‘I’d love to see her job description.’

His jaw tensed as if he found my comment irritating. ‘It was her birthday. Now, let’s get on with the tour, shall we?’

It annoyed me that he’d made me look petty and unprofessional. ‘This way,’ I said, and turned smartly on my heels.

But I was all too acutely aware of his tall, commanding frame following close behind.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_b9d07fb9-a48d-55a7-a627-2df0d04bf4b2)

I COULD SMELL the lemon and spice of his aftershave as I led the way to the dormitories on the second floor. It was a subtle scent, redolent of warm summer afternoons in a lemon grove. I thought of that brief time in Paris—the way we’d met by accident when I’d run into him as I was coming out of a shop late on a Saturday afternoon. He steadied me with his hands and I looked up into his face and my heart all but stopped.

I’m the last person who would ever believe in love at first sight, but something happened at that moment I still can’t explain. I felt something shift inside me as his dark brown eyes met mine. He spoke to me in fluent French, so that might have explained it. It made me fall all the faster. And then he was so gallant, bending down to help me pick up the tote bag that had slipped off my shoulder, spilling its contents all over the cobblestones.