over so she made her way to the outpatients department on the ground floor. Aldo, one of the cleaners, was mopping up some orange juice which had been spilled on the floor and he paused to speak to her. He was learning English and loved to practise whenever he had the chance.
‘It is a beautiful day, dottoressa,’ he said, smiling shyly at her.
‘Si, Aldo, molto bello,’ Kelly replied. She knew from her own experience of learning Italian how important it was to practice and was more than happy to help. She left him to get on with his work and carried on to the office. Serafina, one of the reception staff, smiled when Kelly went in.
‘Buongiorno, Kelly. You have a long list today, I’m afraid. There are several children whom Dr Ferrero asked specifically to see as well so do you know if he will be along soon?’
‘He shouldn’t be long now,’ Kelly assured her, picking up the list. As Serafina had said, it was a long list and she doubted if she would be finished in time for lunch, not that it worried her if she had to work through her break. Her patients came first and they always would.
She put the list back on the desk and picked up the stack of files the receptionist had prepared for her. ‘I’ll make a start,’ she began, then glanced round when the door opened as Luca arrived. He reached past her and picked up the list, and Kelly felt her breath lock in her throat when his arm brushed her shoulder. She couldn’t seem to breathe so that it was left to him to speak.
‘There is a case I would like to discuss with you, Kelly.’ He glanced at her and she realised that he had no inkling what was happening to her. His tone was perfectly level when he continued and contrarily she couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment that swept through her. ‘It will be easier if we do it after clinic is over so come to my office when you have finished your list.’
He didn’t wait for her to reply before he left—didn’t need to, either. He was in charge and she was there to carry out his instructions. However, as the door closed behind him, Kelly knew that their working relationship had nothing to do with the way she was feeling right then.
She hurriedly left the office and went to the consulting room the registrars used. A plastic strip bearing her name had been slotted into place on the door and she stopped to look at it, needing to remind herself who she was: Dr Kelly Carlyon. Junior Registrar. Clinical Care.
She was a member of Luca’s team now and nothing more. She had to forget that he was the man she had loved with all her heart if she intended to stay here. There must be no more looking back at the past, and definitely no repeat of what had happened just now.
Heat suffused her as she recalled the way his arm had brushed against her. It had been the most fleeting contact yet she could feel her skin tingling as it had always done whenever Luca had touched her. Luca had been the most wonderful lover. She’d had little experience when they had met, but he had taught her to how to give love and how to receive it as well. She had come alive in his arms, but she mustn’t make the mistake of thinking it could happen again. Luca was a married man now and even if she stayed, he could never make her feel like that again.
A sob rose in her throat as she hurriedly entered the office but she forced it down. Dropping the files onto the desk, she took off her jacket and put on a clean white coat. She smoothed down the collar then checked her appearance in the mirror over the handbasin, wanting to be sure that everything was in order before her patients arrived.
Her dark red hair was neatly coiled at the nape of her neck in the style she favoured for work. She’d decided to wear a touch of make-up that morning to bolster her courage and the slick of lip gloss and coat of mascara added to the overall picture of a woman in control of her life. On the outside, at least, she looked much the same as she always did. It was only her eyes that betrayed her inner turbulence.
Pain lanced through her as she studied the shadows that clouded their sea-green depths. The fact that Luca had been completely unmoved when they’d touched just now hurt unbearably. Once, she would have confidently claimed that he’d loved her as much as she had loved him, but she’d been wrong. Luca hadn’t loved her then and he most certainly didn’t love her now.
‘Come in.’
Luca steeled himself as the door opened but it was only Serafina with some messages for him. He thanked her, shaking his head when she asked him if he wanted a cup of coffee. ‘No. Grazie.’
He managed to hold his smile until she left but the tension was starting to tell on him. All morning long he had tried to forget how it had felt when he had brushed against Kelly but he’d failed. He could still feel it deep inside him—her softly yielding flesh, her smooth firm skin, her heat.
He swore softly, fluently, using the language he had learned as a child growing up in one of the poorest parts of Italy. The people in charge of the children’s home where he had been sent to live had called it gutter language and had washed out his mouth with soap and water, but even that hadn’t stopped him. It had been the only way he had been able to release the pain and anger that burned inside him.
It hadn’t been until he had finished his degree that he had taught himself not to say the ugly words out loud. The anger had still been there, of course, along with the painful memories of his childhood. It had only been when he had met Kelly that they had started to fade. She’d made him see that he was no longer that ragged, unkempt urchin but a man whom a woman could love. The man Kelly had loved.
How it hurt to know that he could have had a lifetime of her love if things had been different. It wasn’t that he had thrown it heedlessly away—he’d had no choice. Sophia had needed him and he couldn’t have lived with himself if he had abandoned her and her unborn child. He had traded one kind of love for another and he didn’t regret his decision. He had loved Kelly with all his heart, but she hadn’t needed him like Sophia had done.
Luca jumped when there was a second knock on the door. ‘Come in,’ he called, picking up the bundle of messages so it would appear as though he had been doing something useful instead of sitting there, daydreaming.
He heard the door open and footsteps cross the room but he didn’t look up. He didn’t need to. He knew it was Kelly, he could smell her scent, hear her breathing, feel her presence in every fibre of his being. He allowed himself a single, glorious second to savour the sensations that washed through him then banished them to where those memories resided. He had indulged himself enough for one day.
‘How was clinic?’ His tone was cool, distant, polite, the voice he used with all his staff. Luca Ferrero, the physician, gave away nothing about himself, neither the man he was today nor the child he had been. He didn’t fraternise with his colleagues because he didn’t have the time. Every second of every day was devoted either to his work or his son and that’s how he intended it to continue, especially now that Kelly was here. Kelly was the one person who could make him question the path he had chosen, the only one who could make him want more than he had.
‘Fine. Most of the children were follow-up cases so there were no problems.’
‘Bene.’ He glanced up at last, felt his heart lurch, and swiftly recovered. So maybe she was standing in a patch of sunlight that was setting her glorious hair alight but it made no difference to him. He was centred, focused wholly and exclusively on his job.
She shifted slightly and his heart jolted again as he watched her slender body move beneath the white coat. He knew that he would never actually do it, but he longed to get up and walk around the desk, unbutton that coat and peel it off her then set to work on that prim little blouse which she wore underneath.
His vision blurred as he pictured his hands moving down the row of tiny pearl buttons until the very last one had been unfastened. He knew from experience that her skin would be barely darker than the fabric—milky-pale, smooth, unblemished—and shuddered. He would slowly open her blouse, breathe in her scent, feel the warmth of her skin, pull her to him and…
‘You said that you wanted to discuss a case with me.’
Her voice was sharp; it cut through the image that was playing in his head with rapier-like