The Italian's New-Year Marriage Wish Read Free Page A

recognition. ‘ Amy! Oh, my goodness.’ Abandoning her conversation, she walked round the desk towards Amy, clearly at a loss to know what to say. ‘You’re home ? I thought you were still in Africa with that medical charity!’
    â€˜Not any more. Hello, Kate.’
    Kate hesitated and then stepped forward and gave her a warm hug. ‘It’s good to see you, Amy. Really. Does Marco know you’re here? Why didn’t you call?’
    â€˜I was hoping— Marco doesn’t know I’m here but I’d like to see him for a moment.’ Amy cringed as she listened to herself. She hadn’t seen her husband for two years and she was making it sound as though she’d just popped in to ask whether he’d be home in time for dinner.
    Doubt flickered across Kate’s face as she glanced in the direction of the consulting rooms. ‘He’s about to start surgery and we’ve been incredibly busy because—’
    â€˜I know about Lucy and it’s just for a moment,’ Amy urged, unable to keep the note of desperation out of her voice. If Kate refused to let her see Marco that would mean waiting, and Amy wasn’t sure that her courage would survive any sortof wait. She had to do this now. Right now. ‘Please, Kate.’ Unaccustomed to asking for help from another person, she stumbled over the words and the older woman looked at her for a moment, her responsibilities as practice manager clearly conflicting with her desire to help a friend so obviously in need.
    After a moment of hesitation, Kate walked back round the desk and reached for the phone, her eyes still on Amy’s face. ‘I’ll phone through to him and tell him that you’re—’
    â€˜No!’ Amy was already walking towards Marco’s consulting room. ‘I’ll just go straight in.’ Quickly, before she had time to change her mind.
    Her heart pounding rhythmically against her chest, Amy tapped on his door.
    â€˜ Sì , come in.’
    The sound of his smooth, confident voice made her stomach lurch and she closed her eyes briefly. Despite his enviable fluency in English, no one could ever have mistaken Marco Avanti for anything other than an Italian and his voice stroked her nerve endings like a caress.
    Her palm was damp with nerves as she clutched the door-handle and turned it.
    He was just a man like any other.
    She wasn’t going to go weak at the knees. She wasn’t going to notice anything about him. She was past all that. She was just going to say what needed to be said and then leave.
    Ten minutes , she reminded herself. She just had to survive ten minutes and not back down. And then she’d be on the train back to London.
    She opened the door and stepped into the room. ‘Hello, Marco.’ Her heart fluttered like the wings of a captive butterfly as she forced herself to look at him. ‘I wanted to have a quick word before you start surgery.’
    His dark eyes met hers and heat erupted through her body, swift and deadly as a forest fire. From throat to pelvis sheburned, her reaction to him as powerful as ever. Helplessly, she dug her fingers into her palms.
    A man like any other? Had she really believed that, even for a moment? Marco was nothing like any other man.
    She’d had two years to prepare herself for this moment, so why did the sight of him drive the last of her breath from her body? What was it about him? Yes, he was handsome but other men were handsome and she barely noticed them. Marco was different. Marco was the embodiment of everything it was to be male. He was strong, confident and unashamedly macho and no woman with a pulse could look at him and not want him.
    And for a while he’d been hers.
    She looked at him now, unable to think of anything but the hungry, all-consuming passion that had devoured them both.
    His powerful body was ominously still, but he said nothing. He simply leaned slowly back in his chair and