Tempted by Her Italian Surgeon

Tempted by Her Italian Surgeon Read Free Page A

Book: Tempted by Her Italian Surgeon Read Free
Author: Louisa George
Tags: Harlequin Medical Romance
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room filled with porters, nursing staff, ward clerks and doctors, all chattering and drinking copious cups of coffee before the first session started in less than two minutes. And why the heck, with a room full of attendees who looked interested and invested in learning about social media, she was shamefully disappointed that she couldn’t see Mr Finelli’s famous backside in the foray, she couldn’t fathom. Only that she now appeared to be locked in some sort of battle of wills with the doctor and she’d been looking forward to showcasing her side and proving her very valid points. The man may have been infuriatingly narcissistic but she’d believed him a worthy adversary. Clearly not. Typical that he hadn’t bothered to turn up.
    Mind you, with those dark Mediterranean eyes, that proud haughty jaw and thoughts ofwhat was under those scrubs, it was probably a good thing. And it would be hard to concentrate on her talk with that glower searing a hole in her soul.
    â€˜Okay, Miss Leigh…’ Becca handed her the folders of hand-outs for the participants. ‘One each and a few to spare. Morning tea’s at ten-thirty. Catering will deliver at about ten-fifteen.’
    â€˜And lunch? You know how these things go. If they don’t get regularly fed and watered they get grouchy.’
    â€˜One o’clock. In the Steadman Room. Oh, and the laptop’s all set up with the projector, you’re good to go. Good luck.’
    Excellent. Everything was running perfectly, apart from a niggle of a headache. ‘Thanks, and, Becca, please, please, drop the formality and call me Ivy. I know the last incumbent had you calling him sir, but I do things differently.’
    â€˜Okay. If you’re su…’ Her assistant’s face grew a deep shade of puce as her gaze fixed on something over Ivy’s shoulder. ‘Oh… Just, oh.’
    â€˜Are you okay?’
    â€˜Oh, yes. Just peachy. Such a shame he’s a break-your-heart bad boy.’ Becca grinned, and moved forward as if levitated and as if breaking your heart was some kind of spectator sport and he was the numero uno world champion title-holder. Which he probably was. ‘Mr Finelli,please grab a coffee first and then take a seat. Let me show you where the cups are.’
    Great. For some reason Ivy’s heart jigged a little. First-time nerves, probably. She was always jittery at the beginning of a workshop. There was so much to think about…technology not working, correct air-conditioning levels—too hot and everyone fell asleep, too cold and no one could concentrate—snacks arriving on time, holding everyone’s attention, keeping track…
    Suddenly he was walking towards her. She imagined Becca would think him hot, all brooding chocolate-fudge eyes and unruly dark hair. But Ivy had switched off her sexy radar years ago when she’d learned that men wanted their women perfect, and that she didn’t fit that bill. Since then she’d watched her flatmates have their hearts broken and her mother reduced…just less, diminished somehow…because of a man—and Ivy had decided she wasn’t going there. Give her books and her career any day. There was something perfect about a beginning, a middle and an end of a novel—a whole. Complete. And, truth be told, reading was just about all she had the energy to do after a day’s work.
    Unlike the other consultants, he’d adopted informal dress—no suit and tie for Dr Delicious of peachy-bottom fame. Just a white T-shirt over formidable shoulders, with dark jeans huggingslender hips. The same uniform she’d seen on every youth in Florence when she’d been there on a weekend break. She imagined him with dark aviator sunglasses on, perched on a moped like something out of a nineteen-fifties movie. Then her mind wandered back to that picture of him naked, and the knowledge of exactly what was under that uniform

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