The Italian's Passionate Proposal. Sarah Morgan
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boy.
The other attacker scrambled to his feet, winded by the fall, bracing himself for a fight.
Breathing heavily, he caught the cold, dangerous look in Carlo’s eyes and backed away, his change of heart evident.
‘Hey, it wasn’t my idea…’
He glared at his friend, still held captive by Carlo’s deadly hold, and then turned and ran for it, sprinting away as fast as he could, slipping and sliding on the snowy street in his haste to put distance between them.
Swearing fluently, the other man whimpered with the pain in his arm and Carlo reluctantly let him go, kicking the knife out of reach, cold fury erupting inside him. Why were they attacking a kid?
Rubbing his arm, the man gave an angry snarl, landed a final vicious kick in the boy’s stomach and then turned and ran after his friend.
Carlo was itching to chase them but he was aware that the young boy was doubled up in pain from the kick. He reached out a hand to offer support and found himself flat on his back on the pavement, staring up at the stars.
How the hell had that happened?
He was an expert in several martial arts and had spent his entire life prepared to defend himself. He just hadn’t expected to have to defend himself from someone who didn’t even reach his chin and whom he’d just rescued.
But clearly the boy didn’t realise he was being rescued.
Grunting with pain, every muscle in his body protesting, Carlo struggled to sit up and then ducked as a booted foot flew in the direction of his face.
‘Stay away from me, you scum!’
Deciding that this was becoming dangerous, he grabbed the foot and brought the boy down as gently as he could, rolling on top of him so that he could hold him securely.
‘I’m not trying to hurt you,’ he gritted, grabbing both arms and pinning the boy to the pavement. Finally the boy stopped wriggling and glared up at him defiantly and Carlo felt something shift in his stomach.
He’d never seen a boy with eyes that beautiful.
They were an amazing shade of green, fringed with thick lashes that were inky black.
Following through on a totally male instinct, he released the boy’s hands and jerked off the woolly hat, sucking in his breath as soft dark hair tumbled down and trailed in the snow.
Not a boy…
His last coherent thought was that she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life.
And then she hit him.
Carlo winced as her small fist made contact with his cheekbone, pain splitting the side of his face. He swore fluently in Italian and moved his jaw gingerly, testing for fractures.
He’d say this for the girl, she certainly knew how to fight. Why had he ever thought she needed his protection?
Careful not to hurt her, he shifted himself so that he pinned her more securely and caught hold of her hands as she struggled.
‘Porca miseria, I’m not attacking you,’ he growled impatiently. ‘I’m rescuing you!’
Her eyes were blazing up into his, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.
‘Rescuing me? You’re not rescuing me, you’re suffocating me! And ranting at me in a strange language. Let me go!’
She was gorgeous.
Utterly captivated, Carlo gave her a lazy smile but didn’t move an inch. He was enjoying it far too much to move. The feel of her soft, womanly body under his was fantastic. How could he ever have thought she was a boy?
He must be losing it…
Her outraged glare faded and she stared up at him, her stunning green eyes locking with his. ‘Are you going to lie on top of me all night?’
Given the chance, yes.
‘Is that an invitation?’ Carlo knew he ought to move and help her up, but all he wanted to do was bend his head and kiss her.
So he did.
As his mouth came down on hers he hung onto her hands, fully expecting her to take another swipe at him, but after the briefest hesitation her soft lips parted and she kissed him back, sighing slightly as he used all the skill of his thirty-four years to seduce a response from her.
When he finally dragged his mouth away from hers he felt drugged. It had only been a taste but it had been enough to make him want the whole meal.
‘Wh-what did you do that for?’ Those amazing green eyes were still staring up at him, and for the first time in his life Carlo found it difficult to string a coherent sentence together. His body and brain felt disconnected.
‘Kiss of life,’ he murmured huskily, his mind and body still focused on her mouth. ‘They were pretty rough with you—I thought maybe…’
‘I don’t think it worked.’ Her expression was slightly dazed and her voice was smoky and feminine. ‘Want to try it again?’
Carlo lowered his head and kissed her thoroughly, this time releasing his grip so that he could use his hands to haul her body even closer to his.
He felt her shudder under him, felt her slim arms slide round his neck, and for endless moments he was lost in the soft, sweet wonder of her mouth.
Then he heard a shout from the pavement opposite and rolled to his feet, instantly alert.
Be discreet, his father and brother had said.
Lying on a snowy pavement kissing a gorgeous female in full view of anyone who happened to pass probably didn’t qualify, he admitted ruefully, reaching down a hand to pull her up.
She staggered to her feet and then jerked her hand away as if his touch had singed her.
‘I can’t believe we just did that.’ She backed away from him and lifted her fingers to her lips, her expression stunned. ‘I can’t believe I let you kiss me. You’re a stranger. I don’t kiss strangers.’
She looked confused and wary, and he forced himself to stand still and give her some space. He could hardly blame her for being nervous of him. After all, she’d just been mugged.
Carlo searched for the words to reassure her, but before he could speak she stooped to pick up the bin bag and winced in pain.
‘Are you hurt?’ He frowned, surprised and confused by the rush of possessiveness that swamped him. He didn’t even know her name, but the thought that they’d hurt her filled him with red-hot anger. ‘That was a nasty kick.’
He searched his brain for a non-sexual way of suggesting that he take a look at her stomach. He was a doctor after all.
‘I’m OK.’ She brushed her snowy dark hair away from her exquisite face. ‘I suppose I’ve got you to thank for that.’ She gave him a cautious look, still keeping herself at a safe distance. ‘If you hadn’t intervened he probably would have used that knife. I’m sorry I floored you. It all happened so fast I panicked. I thought you were with them.’
She still looked wary, and every muscle in her body was tense, but at least she hadn’t run off.
‘Don’t apologise. I’m glad you floored me.’ Remembering the feel of her soft body under his, he was more than glad. If she hadn’t done that, he probably wouldn’t have kissed her. And, having kissed her…
His eyes dropped hungrily to her mouth again and he wrestled with the instinct to act like a caveman and drag her somewhere quiet, where he could make love to her until she couldn’t stand up.
But she was visibly nervous and he wasn’t going to blow his chances by rushing her. So, instead of grabbing her, he pushed his hands firmly into his pockets and kept his distance.
‘Do