Had she imagined it or had he really invited himself in for coffee?
And why had he done that?
Surely the time they’d spent together in the restaurant should have been enough to prove to him that she wasn’t exactly stimulating company. She’d talked about work and Max.
Thinking about how much she’d talked and how boring she’d been, she covered her face with her hands and gave a groan of embarrassment. Not only had she been boring, she’d been wearing her most ancient skirt and jumper. A man like Stefano Lucarelli must be used to being with women who were groomed to within an inch of their lives. And on top of that, she’d cleared her plate. She’d eaten absolutely everything and his comment about just eating the sauce had made it perfectly obvious that he was used to stick-thin women who went to restaurants to be seen, rather than to eat.
He’d offered her champagne!
Thank goodness she’d had the sense to refuse, otherwise the evening would have been even more embarrassing. As it was, he was probably regretting ever offering her a lift. Because of her stupid car, he’d been stuck with her all evening.
And he’d been incredibly kind about it. So kind that for a short time she’d completely forgotten to be shy and awkward and had really enjoyed herself.
After a while she’d even managed to forget how impossibly good-looking he was and how he absolutely shouldn’t be wasting an evening on her, and just concentrate on the conversation. And he’d been really, really good company. Although she knew it wasn’t fashionable to admit it, she loved the fact that he’d just taken charge.
He was so sure of himself and confident and wasn’t afraid to make decisions. Just having someone else make a decision for her had had the same effect as a month on a health farm.
It was just because she was a single mother, she thought wistfully. Every decision that needed to be made, she made it—by herself, with no help or input from anyone else and sometimes the unrelenting responsibility of her life was just exhausting. Yes, she was controlling, but only because she’d had to be. It was hardly surprising that when someone else did the thinking for five minutes, it had felt wonderful.
It had felt so incredibly indulgent to have a plate of food put in front of her that for a short time she’d relaxed and been herself with him. Only she’d talked far too much about her life—it was a wonder he hadn’t fallen asleep in his spaghetti.
It was just as well she’d happened to notice the table of women near to them. Made up and dressed up, they’d obviously spent half the day getting ready for their night out and they had gazed at Stefano as though they’d wanted him for their main course.
At that point she’d remembered just who she was with and she’d returned to earth quickly, reminding herself that it wasn’t a date.
He’d been with her because he was polite, not because he’d been attracted to her. For a moment in the car the atmosphere had been stretched and tight and she’d thought—she’d really thought that it was caused by mutual attraction and then she’d realised that the tension had simply been caused by him trying to find a tactful way of extracting her from his car.
Why would a man like him be interested in someone as ordinary as her? He just had well-developed social skills, that was all.
He’d only invited her to dinner because he’d been hungry and he’d been forced to give her a lift. It must have been a horribly awkward situation for him.
No wonder he’d suddenly asked for the bill, instead of lingering over dessert and coffee.
He’d obviously been desperate to escape as fast as possible.
And for her own sanity, she needed to remember that.
‘LIV, you’re needed in Resus. We’ve just admitted a woman with chest pains. She had a Caesarean section seven days ago.’ Anna removed the keys to the drug cupboard from her pocket. ‘By the way, why was your car iced over in the car park this morning?’
‘It didn’t start last night. Did you say she has just had a baby?’
‘That’s right. Second baby, six-hour discharge, no problems. How did you get home if your car died?’
‘I grabbed a lift.’ Without elaborating, Liv hurried into Resus just as the paramedics left the room, pushing the empty stretcher.
‘We’re going to give you some oxygen to help you breathe, Michelle,’ Stefano was saying and he glanced up as Liv joined him by the side of the trolley. For a brief moment his dark eyes lingered on hers and that one look was sufficient to trigger memories of the explicit dreams that had disturbed her sleep the night before.
Remembering just what he’d been doing to her in those dreams, colour flooded into her cheeks and he noted her response with a slight narrowing of his sexy eyes before shifting his gaze back to the radiographer who was hovering. ‘We’ll do a chest X-ray, although I’m not sure it’s going to tell us much.’
‘I can’t breathe—I’m so worried…’ The woman’s lips were blue and Liv took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, trying to ignore the increase in her own heart rate.
It had just been a dream, for goodness’ sake. A dream he knew nothing about. Unless he could read minds, he was never going to find out that she’d been having totally inappropriate fantasies about him.
Angry with herself, Liv checked the monitor. ‘Pulse is a hundred and fifteen.’
It was totally ridiculous to feel like this. He’d given her a lift home, that was all. Trying to forget about the previous evening, she concentrated her attention on the patient. ‘How are those pains, Michelle?’
Michelle closed her eyes. ‘Worse when I breathe.’
Liv’s immediate thought was that the woman had suffered a pulmonary embolus, a clot in her lung. She looked at Stefano and he gave a brief nod of agreement, clearly reading her mind.
At least in the emergency department they were completely in tune.
‘You’re in hospital now, so try to leave the worrying to us, Michelle.’ Liv glanced over her shoulder to one of the other nurses. ‘Alice? Can you call the obstetric unit and see if they can track down her notes, please?’
‘I’ve left my husband with the kids.’ Gasping for breath, the woman was clearly frantic with worry. ‘The baby’s only a week old and I’m breastfeeding. He’s never going to cope.’
‘Is he coming to the hospital?’ Liv watched as Stefano prepared to take blood from the radial artery, his fingers swift and confident.
Michelle coughed feebly. ‘He’s supposed to be following in the car.’
‘I’m just going to take some blood from your wrist, Michelle,’ Stefano murmured. ‘This might hurt a bit.’
‘I’m worried that the baby is going to be starving.’ Tears welled up in Michelle’s eyes. ‘She has no idea how to take a bottle. Ow.’ She screwed up her face. ‘You’re right, that does hurt.’
‘Mi dispiace. I’m sorry. I know it’s uncomfortable.’ Stefano straightened. ‘I want her catheterised so that we can monitor her fluid output. Let’s give her some high-flow oxygen and we need to get a line in. Phil, I want FBC, ESR and U&Es. She has pleuritic chest pain and a pleural rub.’ He delivered a string of commands, his instructions succinct and fluent and Liv stood back for a moment so that the radiographer could do her job.
‘We’re just going to run a few tests on you, Michelle, and then I promise I’ll go and talk to your husband. If necessary I can fetch