The Valtieri Marriage Deal. Caroline Anderson
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he wouldn’t be able to call her back. That way she’d have control of the relationship—
No! It wasn’t a relationship. She wouldn’t let it be! But she was desperate to hear his voice, to have some kind of contact with the man who’d stolen her heart so suddenly.
So she rang him, and after a few moments she got his voicemail. She rang it again, just to hear his message, to hear the low rumble of his voice, the crisp message at odds with the man she’d spent last night with, and finally she spoke.
‘Hi, Luca, it’s Isabelle, I’m sorry I’ve missed you. I’m back. And thank you—for everything.’
Then she hung up, resisting the urge to give him her number. She could always call him again. Next week, perhaps. Or tomorrow.
No! Not tomorrow. Not next week, either. She was being ridiculous. She didn’t want a relationship. Last time was enough for a lifetime.
She swallowed hard and then on impulse she turned on her computer and typed ‘Luca Valtieri’ into a search engine, expecting nothing, really, maybe a paper or two, some medical reference—and got a whole bunch of stuff.
Exstracts from articles in medical journals, research material, awards—but nothing personal, nothing to tell her more about the man himself except the fact that he was clearly very active and involved with his field of medicine, and he’d worked with a lot of English consultants whose names she recognised.
Silly her. She’d fallen—and how!—for a truly gorgeous man with a devastating smile and a kiss that had wiped out all the common sense she’d been born with, and not only that, he was funny and intelligent and dedicated. Thank God she’d refused to see him again. He was much too dangerous to her peace of mind but, oh, she missed him.
Oh, well. She’d get over it. She had before. It wasn’t the first time her heart had been broken, although that time, of course, she’d been betrayed. Idly she wondered how she would have felt about Luca if she’d been able to trust him with her heart, but she couldn’t turn the clock back and she had no idea how it would feel to have that much faith in a man.
Impossible. And if she’d allowed herself to fall for Luca, how much more would it have hurt when it all went wrong?
She swallowed hard. At least she’d had the sense to withhold her number, so he wouldn’t be able to contact her.
And, besides, there wasn’t time in her life to mope. Until her hospital’s maternity unit refurb was completed she was working in another unit not nearly so easy to get to, so it was just as well Luca was out of her life because, frankly, with the extra travelling, she wouldn’t have time for a relationship at the moment.
And if she told herself that often enough, maybe she’d believe it…
He’d missed her call.
He swore softly and dropped into a chair, resting his head in his hands. Damn. Of all the stupid, stupid things, to forget to put his phone on charge when he’d got back to the flat. But maybe…
He scrolled through to his incoming calls, and the hope died. ‘Withheld. Damn.’
‘Maybe she’ll ring again,’ his brother suggested.
He shook his head and swallowed hard. ‘No—no, she won’t. It doesn’t matter. She didn’t want to see me again anyway. I just wanted to—’
‘Talk to her?’ Gio finished softly for him when he broke off, and he nodded, his throat curiously tight. ‘So are you going to go and find her?’
He shook his head. ‘No. We agreed it was only for one night. I’ll just have to live with it.’ But hell, he didn’t want to. He hadn’t realised how much he was looking forward to speaking to her again—maybe talking her into letting him see her when he was back in London.
‘So—what next?’
He let the air out of his lungs on a long, slow breath and met his brother’s eyes. ‘I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go back to London and finish off my research.’
‘You could look her up—it’s time you had a bit of fun. Where does she live?’
‘Herne Hill, but I have no idea where or I’d go and try to talk her into seeing me again.’
‘You must be slipping. It’s not like you to have to chase after a woman. Did you disappoint her last night?’
He met his brother’s mocking eyes with disgust. ‘No, I did not—not that it’s your damn business.’
Gio shrugged. ‘So—what about the job? Mama will be disappointed if you go back to London. She was looking forward to having you closer to home.’
‘She’d cope.’
‘Of course—and who knows? You may even bring home a bride. Now, that would make her happy.’
He grunted and stifled the little leap in his chest that felt remarkably like hope. ‘Unlikely. I have to convince her first—and, anyway, aren’t you jumping the gun a bit? It was only one night.’
‘Of course it was,’ Gio said soothingly, and smiled. ‘Just promise me one thing—let me draw up the pre-nup. And don’t even contemplate getting hitched without one.’
He laughed. ‘Relax, Gio. I’m not going to marry her. It’s not on my agenda.’
‘We’ll see. Coffee?’
Luca gave his phone one last regretful look and slid it into his pocket. ‘Why not?’
‘What’s going on?’
The group of women around the central nursing station didn’t take their eyes off the office door.
‘Richard Crossland’s got someone with him. And he’s a hunk,’ her friend Sarah said in a stage whisper. ‘He’s been in there ages—they must be about to come out. I swear he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.’
‘Really.’
‘Really. Really really really. Even you’d think so, Little Miss Fussy-Pants.’
Not fussy enough, apparently, or she wouldn’t be moping about now with a broken heart six weeks down the line, Isabelle thought, and walked away towards the staff room to dump her bag. The Tube had been delayed and she didn’t even have time for a cup of tea now. She certainly didn’t have time to stand and ogle some stud who the girls thought was so damn marvelous.
There was a little commotion behind her, a sudden burst of activity that could only mean the office door had opened and they’d been caught staring. Well, serve them right, she thought, and glanced over her shoulder.
And stopped dead in her tracks.
‘Luca?’
The word was soundless, hardly even a breath, but he turned his head and met her eyes, and the bottom dropped out of her world.
‘Isabella.’
He crossed the ward in two strides, his warm hands cupping her shoulders, sending a shock wave through her body. She eased herself away from his grasp, horribly conscious of their rapt audience, her heart drumming against her ribs like a wild thing.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, choked by a flood of emotion that was threatening to unravel her.
‘I could ask you the same thing. Your hospital’s miles away.’
‘Not nearly as far as Florence. Anyway, the unit’s—’
‘Shut for a refurb. I know that, you told me. They wouldn’t tell me where you’d been relocated to, though. They were—well, let’s say they were profoundly unhelpful. It didn’t make it any easier to find you. So—how are you?’
She ignored that, her heart pounding as she took in his words. ‘You were looking for me?’
‘Si—for