Mistletoe Brides: Italian Doctor, Sleigh-Bell Bride / Christmas Angel for the Billionaire / His Vienna Christmas Bride. Liz FieldingЧитать онлайн книгу.
in daylight. He’d probably be sick.’
Anna gaped at her. ‘You have absolutely no idea how lovely you are.’
‘Oh yes.’ Liv gave a mocking a smile. ‘So lovely that Jack could barely drag himself away from me to sleep with other women.’
‘Jack was just a—’ Anna used a word that made Liv blink.
‘I can’t believe you just said that. Wash your mouth out.’
‘I just hate the way he’s made you feel about yourself,’ Anna said simply. ‘Because of him, you have no self-confidence. Just do me a favour—try smouldering at Stefano and see what happens.’
‘He’d probably throw a bucket of water over me and I wouldn’t blame him.’
‘He’s seriously rich, gorgeous and single. If you’re not even prepared to flirt with him then you need therapy,’ Anna said and Liv smiled.
‘Anna, darling, one of us definitely needs therapy, but I don’t think it’s me.’
‘Are you telling me that you can look him in the eye and not think of sex?’
‘Stop talking about sex!’ The words came out louder than she’d intended and Liv slammed a hand over her mouth and giggled in disbelief. ‘For crying out loud, Anna, what is the matter with you? Go to lunch, or go and have a cold shower or—something.’
‘“Or something” sounds good but unfortunately I’ll have to settle for lunch.’ Anna handed her the keys to the drug cupboard. ‘You’re in charge. Hire and fire at will. Try not to get up to anything while I’m gone.’ She walked briskly out of the room and Liv pinned the keys in her pocket with hands that weren’t quite steady.
All this talk of sex was starting to unsettle her.
Her eyes slid to the article in the bin.
Did he know what to do with his hands? Well, of course he did. He was a good-looking, confident, experienced man. He didn’t fumble in Resus and she didn’t for a moment expect him to fumble in the bedroom. He just wasn’t that type of guy.
She gave a sigh of exasperation. Pretending that she hadn’t noticed him or that he wasn’t attractive was just silly. Who was she kidding? Everyone had noticed him and with good reason.
Wealthy, good-looking doctors weren’t exactly a common species. Most of the doctors she worked with were pale-skinned and out of shape, like plants that had been deprived of sunlight. Stefano’s bronzed skin and Mediterranean good looks made him stand out like a bold sunflower in a field of withered dandelions.
But what really stayed in her mind was his skill as a doctor. He was breathtakingly skilled and ruthless in his demands for perfection, and yet at the same time he’d shown himself capable of displaying a surprising degree of compassion when it was required. He was gorgeous.
Seriously worried by her own thoughts, she gave herself a sharp talking to. Enough! Even thinking of him in that way was embarrassing. He was smooth, sophisticated and stunning whereas she was—she was…
Delusional, Liv thought, exasperated with herself. Delusional, for thinking that a man like him might be interested in someone like her.
Ordinary, wasn’t that what Jack had called her?
Ordinary. Dependable.
She was a good nurse, a loving mother and a caring friend. But she wasn’t sexy or glamorous.
And she wasn’t the sort of woman that a man like Stefano Lucarelli would ever notice.
She needed to stop thinking about sex and get on with her life.
‘Down the wing, Max, down the wing!’
Two days later Liv stood on edge of the school field with a row of parents. Several of the men had obviously taken the afternoon off from work to cheer the children on in their football match.
And it was cold. Really cold. Liv had wrapped a scarf around her neck but her breath clouded the freezing air and her fingers were numb.
‘Hi, Liv. You’ve met my husband, Simon, haven’t you?’ The mother of a boy in Max’s class was standing huddled next to a stocky, cheerful-looking man whose polished shoes looked out of place on the school playing field. A toddler slept in a pushchair next to her and every now and then she jiggled the handle to keep him asleep. Even under the large winter coat, it was obvious that she was very pregnant.
‘Hi, Simon.’ Liv smiled. ‘How are you, Claire? When’s the baby due?’
‘Christmas Day.’ Claire cast a teasing glance towards her husband. ‘You’ll be cooking the turkey, sunshine. Better start practising.’
‘Ah—I had something to tell you about that.’ Simon was concentrating hard on the game, his eyes following the ball. ‘I’ve invited my mother to stay at Christmas. It seemed like a good idea. Go on, James!’
‘You’ve invited your mother? Are you kidding?!’ Claire’s mouth dropped open but Simon was urging the team on and didn’t respond. Claire glanced at Liv and rolled her eyes. ‘Men! At the first hint of domestic work, they ring their mothers.’
Simon dragged his eyes from the pitch for half a second. ‘Did you really want to eat my turkey?’
Claire glared at him. ‘So you’re going to be on the sofa watching the TV?’
His eyes were back on the pitch. ‘I do my bit.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes, really! I’m the one that’s been coaching James on his football skills. And just look at him go!’ Simon gazed at his son proudly and Liv felt something uncurl inside her. Something uncomfortable that made her feel slightly sick.
She looked away quickly, reminding herself that she could kick a football with her son, too. But it wasn’t the same, was it? Sometimes she just ached when she saw the way Max stared longingly at the fathers playing with their sons in the park. She’d seen the way he sidled up to the fringes of other male groups, hoping to be included.
The truth was that there was no male influence in his life and he needed one. If she had the money she would have given him football coaching for his Christmas present but that was out of the question.
She was his football coach. She was everything.
Liv turned her attention back to the football match, shocked by the thick sludge of jealousy that surged through her veins.
Hating herself for feeling that way, she gritted her teeth. It wasn’t like her. She was incredibly lucky. She had a son she adored and a job she loved—a good life.
Her eyes slid back towards Claire and Simon who were still sharing a laugh together at the prospect of their crazy, noisy Christmas.
But she didn’t have anyone to share her life with, did she?
Perhaps Anna was right. Perhaps it was time she thought about dating again. But she really didn’t think she had the courage. Perhaps if she used the internet and said SINGLE MOTHER WITH CHILD, at least that would warn people that she wasn’t a supermodel. But she had to put something nice about herself. Can make pizza, kick a football and read bedtime stories? What sort of person would that attract?
The truth was that the mere thought of internet dating, horrified her. What if someone met her in the flesh and thought, Yuck?
Shrinking at the thought, Liv concentrated on the game. She watched as Max sped down the field, a determined look on his face as he chased the ball. His little legs were bruised and muddy and his football shirt was so long it looked as though he wasn’t wearing any shorts, but he was trying so hard that he was almost bursting. He looked so small and vulnerable, Liv thought to herself, wondering whether parenthood affected everyone like this.
When