One Night With The Italian Doc: Unwrapping Her Italian Doc / Tempted by the Bridesmaid / Italian Doctor, No Strings Attached. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.

       CHAPTER NINE

      ‘I AM SO, so jealous!’ Emily said, as Louise teetered in on high heels on Friday night, having finished her shift and got changed into her Christmas party clothes.

      ‘It’s fine that you’re jealous,’ Louise said to Emily, ‘because I am so, so jealous of you. I’d love to be in bed now, nursing my bump.’

      ‘You look stunning,’ Hugh said.

      Louise was dressed in a willow-green dress that clung to her lack of curves and she had her Mistletoe range stockings on, which came with matching panties, bra and suspenders. As they chatted Louise topped her outfit off with a very red coat that looked more like a cape and was a piece of art in itself.

      ‘God help Anton,’ Hugh said openly to Louise.

      ‘Sadly, he’s stuck on the ward.’ Louise rolled her eyes. ‘So that was a waste of six pounds.’

      As she headed out Hugh turned to Emily, who was trying not to laugh at Hugh’s reaction.

      ‘Was she talking about condoms?’ Hugh asked.

      ‘She was.’

      Oh, Louise was!

      As she approached the elevator, there was Anton and his patient must have been sorted because he had changed out of scrubs and was wearing black jeans and a black jumper and looked as festive as one might expect for Anton. He smelt divine, though, Louise thought as she stood beside him, waiting for the lift. ‘You’ve escaped for the weekend,’ Louise said.

      ‘I have.’

      ‘Me too!’

      She looked at the clothes he was wearing. Black trousers, a black shirt and a very dark grey coat. He looked fantastic rather than festive. ‘I didn’t know they did out-of-hours funerals,’ Louise said as they stepped into the elevator and her eyes ran over his attire.

      ‘You would have me in a reindeer jumper.’

      ‘With a glow stick round your neck,’ Louise said as she selected the ground floor. ‘It will be fun tonight.’

      ‘Well, I’m just going to put my head in to be polite,’ Anton said. ‘I don’t want to stay long.’

      ‘Yawn, yawn,’ Louise said. ‘You really are a misery at Christmas, Anton. Well, I’m staying right to the end. I missed out on far too many parties last year.’

      She leant against the wall and gave him a smile when she saw he was looking at her.

      ‘You look very nice,’ Anton said.

      ‘Thank you,’ Louise responded, and she felt a little rush as his eyes raked over her body and this time Anton did look down, all the way to her toes and then back up to her eyes.

      She resented that the lift jolted and that the doors opened and someone came in. They all stood in silence but this was no socially awkward nightmare. His delicious, slow perusal continued all the way to the ground floor.

      ‘Do you want a lift to the party?’ Anton offered.

      ‘It’s a five-minute walk,’ Louise said. ‘Come back later for your car.’

      They stepped out and it was snowing, just a little. It was too damp and not cold enough for it to settle but there in the light of the streetlamps she could see the flakes floating in the night and he saw her smile and chose to walk the short distance.

      It was cold, though, and Louise hated the cold.

      ‘I should have worn a more sensible coat,’ Louise said through chattering teeth because her coat, though divine, was a bit flimsy. It was the perfect red, though, and squishy and soft, and she dragged it out every December and she explained that to Anton. ‘But this is my Christmas party coat. It wasn’t the most thought-out purchase of my life.’

      ‘You have a Christmas coat?’

      ‘I have a Christmas wardrobe,’ Louise corrected. ‘So, you’re just staying for a little while.’

      ‘No,’ Anton said.

      ‘Oh, I thought you said—’

      ‘You ruined my line. I was going to suggest that you leave five minutes after me but then you said that you were looking forward to it.’

      ‘Oh!’

      ‘I think you are right and that we should enjoy Christmas, perhaps together, and stop concerning ourselves with other things.’ He stopped walking and so did she and they faced each other in the night and he pulled her into his lovely warm coat. ‘Can you be discreet?’

      ‘Not really,’ Louise said with a smile, ‘but I am discreet about important things.’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘And having a nice Christmas is a very important thing,’ she went on, ‘so, yes, I’ll be discreet.’

      Pressed together, her hands under his coat and around his waist there was nothing discreet about Anton’s erection.

      ‘I would kiss you but …’ He looked down at her perfectly painted lips for about half a second because he didn’t care if it ruined her make-up and neither did she. It had been a very long December, all made worth it by this.

      After close to two weeks of deprivation Louise returned to his mouth. His kiss was warm and his lips tender. It was a gentle kiss but it delivered such promise. His tongue was hers again to enjoy. His hands moved under her coat and stroked her back and waist so lightly it was almost a tickle, and when their lips parted their faces barely broke contact and Louise’s short breaths blew white in the night. She was ridiculously turned on in his arms.

      ‘We need get there,’ Anton said.

      ‘Should we arrive together?’ Louise asked. ‘If we’re going to be discreet?’

      ‘Of course,’ Anton said, ‘we left work at the same time.’

      She went into her bag, which was as well organised as her pockets at work, and did a quick repair job on her face and handed Anton a baby wipe.

      ‘Actually, have the packet,’ Louise said, and Anton pocketed it with a smile.

      He might rather be needing them.

      It was everything a Christmas party should be.

      The theme was fun and midwives knew how to have it.

      All the Christmas music was playing and Louise was the happiest she had been in a very, very long time amongst her colleagues and friends. Anton was there in the background, making her toes curl in her strappy stilettoes as she danced and had fun and made merry with friends while he suitably ignored her. Now and then, though, they caught the other’s eye and had a little smile.

      It was far less formal than the theatre do and everyone let off a little seasonal steam, well, everyone but Anton.

      He stood chatting with Stephanie and Rory, holding his sparkling water, even though he was off duty now until Monday.

      ‘Louise,’ Rory called to her near the end of the evening, ‘what are you doing for Emily at Christmas?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Louise said. ‘I’ve been racking my brains. She’s got everything she needs really but I’m going Christmas shopping tomorrow. I might think of something then.’

      ‘Well, let me know