Hot Single Docs: Waiting For You: St Piran's: Prince on the Children's Ward

‘You were trapped under the horse? Ouch. So no physical activity for the rest of the summer?’

His eyes opened and he studied her from underneath lush, dark lashes. ‘Depends what you mean by physical activity.’

Staring into those dangerous dark eyes, her mouth dried. ‘I meant polo and surfing.’ Tasha felt the heat slowly spread through her body and wished she’d never mentioned physical activity. Even injured, the man was deadly. ‘You look tired. Do you want me to call your security team to help you from the sofa to the bed?’

‘No. I have the crutches and I can manage.’

‘Independent, aren’t you?’

‘You could say that.’

Torn between wanting to see him suffer and not wanting him to exacerbate his injuries, Tasha tilted her head. ‘The crutches won’t be much use while your ribs are so bruised. We might need to think of other options.’

‘This is fine.’ Shifting to the edge of the sofa, Alessandro picked up the crutches and stood up, taking his weight on his good leg.

Tasha flinched.

That had to hurt.

‘Alessandro—’

‘I can do it. Just give me space.’ There was a stubbornness in his tone. A grim determination to succeed despite the agonising pain. Reluctantly impressed, Tasha stood there, careful not to touch him and distinctly unsettled by how much she wanted to do just that.

‘Look, I could call one of those burly security guards—’

‘It would help if you could check the route to my bedroom is clear. So far I haven’t mastered doing this with obstacles.’ His face was chalk-white as he slowly eased his way forward. ‘I’ll just use the bathroom on the way so that I don’t have to make two journeys.’

Tasha watched as the muscles in his powerful shoulders flexed and knew that every movement had to be causing him agony. ‘I think you need help.’

He cast her a look that told her he’d be long dead before he’d accept help from anyone. A crooked smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. ‘You’re offering to assist me in the bathroom? Now, that could be interesting.’

Trying to work out how the atmosphere had shifted to intimate, Tasha felt her face turn scarlet. ‘I just don’t see how you’re going to manage to do what you have to do without help.’

His eyes lingered on hers for a long moment. Mockery mingled with something else that she didn’t even want to put a name to. ‘You want to come and watch how it’s done, tesoro?’

He’d called her that at seventeen and her heart rushed forward, doubling its rhythm. ‘Don’t speak Italian.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because...’ Her mouth was dry. ‘Because I don’t speak it and it’s rude to talk a language someone doesn’t understand.’

‘It’s my native tongue.’

‘I know. But you’re fluent in English so that’s no excuse.’ She scowled at him. ‘I just don’t want you falling and fracturing more bones. I’m not sure my patience with this whole nursing thing is going to last that long, so you’d better heal quickly.’

He shifted the position of the crutch. His knuckles were white where they gripped the handles. ‘I won’t lock the door. If I find myself in trouble, I’ll shout and you can come to my rescue. But not on a white charger. I’ve had enough of horses for one week.’

Pinned to the spot by that dark, sexy gaze, Tasha felt as if she were the one who had eaten the chilli. Her entire body was caught in a fiery rush of heat and suddenly she didn’t feel like the one in control. ‘Fine,’ she croaked, ‘leave the door unlocked. Good idea.’

Feeling the heat in her face, she moved through to his bedroom and cleared the suitcase off the bed. His bed was enormous and faced out towards the sea.

How many hearts had he broken in that bed?

Trying to push aside disturbing images of Alessandro’s strong body tangled with a slender female frame, Tasha ripped the duvet back so that he could get into the bed and wondered why on earth she’d volunteered for this job. Why had she ever thought she could make his life difficult? The herbal tea had been moderately irritating but the chilli hadn’t even registered on his taste buds, and all her digs about surfing hadn’t had much impact either.

And now she was stuck here with a man who made her think things she didn’t want to think. It had always been like that, she remembered crossly, even as a teenager. When Alessandro had walked into the room there had never been any confusion. She’d known she was a woman.

If she really wanted him to suffer then she needed to do something drastic.

What was a man like Alessandro likely to be missing more than anything?

Tasha gave a slow smile as she thought about the other items in her shopping bags.

Time for Plan B.

* * *

The pain in his ribs was excruciating. Even small movements resulted in blinding agony, as if a burning-hot poker was being forced into his chest.

But at least it distracted him from the parts of his life he was trying to forget.

Taking advantage of the privacy of the bathroom, Alessandro gave in to the pain.

He balanced himself against the washbasin and reached for a glass. To add to the pain in his ribs and his ankle, his mouth felt as though someone had started a bonfire. Chilli, he thought, gulping down water. When he’d taken the first mouthful of food he’d thought she must have made a mistake but then he’d seen her eating hers happily. Clearly she liked her food hot. Not wanting to offend her, he’d forced his down, eating it as quickly as possible. If she walked out, he’d be back in hospital and there was no way he was going back to hospital. So he’d forced himself to eat with enthusiasm the food she’d prepared.

He drank deeply, wondering how long it took nerve-endings to recover. There wasn’t a single part of his body that wasn’t burning.

Frustrated by his own weakness, accustomed to being at the peak of physical fitness, Alessandro used the bathroom and then clenched his jaw against the pain and hobbled back towards the bedroom, trying in vain to find some way of distributing his weight so that the movement didn’t exacerbate his injuries.

Tasha had turned back the duvet and smoothed the sheets.

Never before had his bed looked so inviting, but the short distance from the door felt like running a marathon. It didn’t help that she was watching him, those cool eyes steady on his face.

‘Aren’t you taking your nursing duties a little too seriously?’ He wished she’d turn away so that he could give in to the pain. ‘You’re off duty once I go to bed.’

‘I’d better help you undress.’

Was she serious? Marvelling at the discovery that extreme pain didn’t seem to interfere with sexual arousal, Alessandro gritted his teeth. For his own sanity he knew he didn’t dare let her touch him. ‘I’ll manage.’

‘How? At least let me help you change your shirt for pyjamas.’

‘I don’t own pyjamas.’

‘I thought you might say that, so I bought you some when I was out shopping.’ Pleased with herself, she picked up a bag and produced a pair of pyjamas.

Distracted from the ache in his loins by the flash of vivid colour, Alessandro blinked. ‘Pink?’

‘It was the only colour they had.’ Her expression was anxious. ‘Oh, dear. Are you one of those guys who believes wearing pink makes them less masculine? Sorry. I hadn’t thought of that. Only I know some guys wear pink shirts these days and I thought these might be OK...’