Sydney Harbour Hospital: Luca's Bad Girl. Amy Andrews

sustained major chest and abdominal injuries. He’d placed a chest tube and done the intubation while she’d inserted a central line.

      They’d worked in tandem, like a well-oiled machine, but she’d been aware of him and his every move every second. Their gazes had locked regularly. At one stage their heads had even bumped together, competing for the same line of sight. He’d apologised, but their faces had been very close. His gaze had dropped briefly to her mouth and her mind had strayed to exactly where she’d put it on his body.

      The third time she’d been plastering a fifteen-year-old-boy’s broken arm when he’d lounged in the doorway to the plaster room. He hadn’t announced himself but something had alerted her and she’d looked up to find him propped against the doorframe.

      ‘Haven’t you got something better to be doing?’ she asked testily, returning her attention to the job. How was she supposed to avoid him when he seemed to be wherever she was?

      Luca shook his head. ‘All quiet. I thought I’d skulk here for a while.’

      She’d glanced up at his use of the word ‘skulk’ and he grinned at her. He advanced into the room and she tried not to notice how his beautifully cut trousers and khaki business shirt fitted him to perfection. He could easily have been strutting a Milan catwalk.

      ‘You the boy who was having a light-sabre fight with your little sister?’ he asked the teenager.

      The boy nodded glumly. ‘She’s never going to let me live it down.’

      ‘Sisters can be very unforgiving.’

      ‘You’ve got sisters?’

      Luca nodded. ‘Three.’

      ‘Man, that’s harsh.’

      Mia slid him a sly glance. His accent had thickened and his words had seemed tinged with something she hadn’t been able to put her finger on. Then the two of them got into a conversation about Star Wars and Mia gritted her teeth and pretended Luca and his mouth were in a galaxy far, far away.

      By the time he passed her in the hallway at ten o’clock she was walking a very fine line between homicidal mania and sexual frustration. The man was everywhere—in the department and in her head—and, heaven help her, she wanted to push him into the nearest available private space and tear his clothes off.

       But it had been a one-off.

      They’d agreed.

      ‘Oh, Dr McKenzie, I meant to tell you earlier, I’ve arranged for a debrief session with John Allen from Psych for you.’

      Mia slowed and turned. How could she want to kill him and kiss at the same time? ’Cos she did. She wanted to kiss that smug Sicilian mouth so badly she could scream.

      ‘I don’t need a damn debrief,’ she snapped, tossing her head, daring him to push her. ‘I’m fine.’

      Luca smiled at the flash in her eyes—like sun shining on a cathedral window. He liked the way her chest rose and fell just a little bit too fast. And how it pulled at her blouse in all the right places.

      He pushed back. ‘I’m sure you are. But you’re having one, anyway.’

      That was it! Mia put her hands on her hips, barely suppressing the juvenile urge to stamp her foot. ‘Oh, no, I’m not.’

      He nodded. ‘Ten tomorrow morning.’

      Her gaze locked on his mouth the same time his locked on hers. Something stirred deep in her belly. A primal recognition of attraction. A potent force.

      She lifted her chin. ‘You can’t make me.’

      Luca felt a subtle shift in the signals emanating from her. Had that challenge been sexual? A nurse bustled past and gave them a strange look.

      Luca inclined his head to a nearby door. ‘Shall we discuss this in private?’

      Mia knew it was the on-call room. ‘Fine,’ she muttered, her heart rate suddenly trebling.