Tempted by Her Italian Surgeon (6 page)

‘Of course.'

Nancy's eyes flicked over to Ivy. ‘Oh, and Miss Leigh, of course. You must come too.'

Matteo guessed Nancy was playing the polite card because generally the department was pretty tight, but it would be rude not to ask her when this conversation was going on within her earshot. He ignored a little leap in his stomach at the thought of seeing her again. If that was how his body was reacting then maybe he wouldn't go tonight if she was going to be there. It was better not to fuel this attraction any further. Bad enough she'd been the first thing he'd thought about when he'd woken up this morning.

‘Why does everyone insist on calling me Miss Leigh? It makes me feel like I'm a ninety-year-old spinster. Please, it's Ivy…' Ivy shook her head vehemently. ‘And thanks for the offer but, no. I can't come tonight.'

Nancy chipped in. ‘But we all go, every Friday, across the road to the Dragon, straight after work. It's tradition. If you work in OR it's mandatory…'

Matteo added with a grin, remembering how
forceful Poison Ivy had been about attending her ridiculous course, ‘And we all know what that means. No getting out of it.'

Ivy swung her legs over the edge of the trolley and straightened her scrubs, her blonde hair stuck up in little tufts, and she looked very far from the sophisticated, competent lawyer. In fact, she looked pretty damned cute all mussed up. ‘But I didn't exactly do any work here, I just made a fool of myself.'

‘And now you have me feeling sorry for you all over again.' He leaned closer. Big mistake—a nose full of her fresh scent had his senses zapping into full-on alert. He stepped back again. ‘Let me tell you a secret…the first day in Theatre as a medical student, I vomited.'

‘In the theatre?' Both Nancy and Ivy asked at the same time.

He shrugged. ‘No, in a bin outside. I managed to leave just in time. A coronary bypass—messy. It takes a bit of getting used to. There's a lot of smells and noise and the blood…and looking inside… It's something you learn to live with. You can't expect to be okay with seeing these things on the first day. Luckily, you have another three chances to get up close and personal.'

‘Yay. Three.' Ivy's cheeks blazed as she drained the cup and popped it on the table next to the trolley. ‘Er…well, yes. Hypnotherapy's
good, I hear. Drugs. Total avoidance has been working really well for me for years. But I really do need to apologise to everyone for inconveniencing them.'

‘What better place to do it than at the pub?' He couldn't believe he was convincing her to come. ‘You said you needed to get to know the departments. People will chat to you more freely with alcohol in their bellies.'

‘Yes,' Nancy chimed in. ‘Come on, it's usually a good crowd. And if you do come I promise not to let anyone make fun of you.'

Matteo sniffed. ‘Apart from me, obviously.'

‘Of course, Matteo. Whatever.' With a shake of her head Nancy jabbed him in the ribs and winked at Ivy. ‘Don't be taken in by him. He's just a softie really.'

‘Nancy, how could you ruin my reputation?'

‘Your reputation's already in tatters, my boy. We've all seen the picture…
Bite me
? Yes…oh, yes. Wouldn't we all love to do that.' Laughing, Nancy ducked away down the corridor. Leaving just him and a bed-ready Ivy, who was laughing and not making any attempt to hide it.

He gave her a smile. ‘Now I definitely need you to come out tonight to fight my corner, tell them what penance I've had to serve for that damned picture. They'll be merciless.'

‘This I have got to see.' Ivy patted his hand and
he felt a comforting warmth that, as he looked into her sparkling eyes, transformed into a sizzle running through him. He wanted to kiss her. Right there. To see what that mouth tasted like, how it felt slammed against his. This was a struggle he was already losing. He wanted her. As he watched her she stopped laughing, but the smile remained. ‘Sorry, Matteo, it's no more than you deserve. This is one battle you'll have to fight on your own. And I don't think you'll have a hope in hell of winning.'

W
ITH AN UNEXPECTEDLY
free afternoon to attack her to-do list, Ivy felt on top of her work for the first time since she'd taken the job. Wanting to purge the embarrassment burning through her, she'd hit the tasks with gusto and now had a new to-do list that contained
complete projects
, as opposed to,
Go through the masses of unfinished stuff the useless last guy left, find out what the outstanding projects are and then complete
.

Now she had a clear idea of where she was headed—until, of course, the next crisis occurred. Because she had no doubt that it would. She could only hope it wasn't more naked photos…because that scenario appeared to get her into hotter water than she wanted to be.

She buzzed through to the next office. ‘Becca, would it be possible for you to line up some interviews for me for next week?'

‘Sure. Hang on, I'll come through.' Becca appeared in her office, pencil poised and notepad
at the ready, as if she was about to take dictation. ‘Who, what, why and when? And, please, please, let it be more bottoms to identify…peachy ones, of course.'

Ivy tried to frown, but the thought of that…
Work, girl
. ‘You are incorrigible. It's proper work. You remember that? The stuff we get paid to do? Look through my diary—any time apart from Thursday and Friday. I need to take a brief on the Partridge case. So, I need to speak to…' She scanned down the list of names on the paper in front of her. ‘Maggie Taylor and Leslie Anderson from Ward Three.'

Becca tapped her pad. ‘That's the med negligence case, right? The feeding tube that became dislodged?'

‘Yes. That hearing's coming up in a couple of weeks and I need to be apprised of all the facts.'

‘Certainly. I'll organise that for you.' Becca nodded. ‘But, you know, we always win anyway. Or we settle beforehand if we don't think we'll win in court.'

‘Yes. I know very well how the system works.' Ivy had personal experience on both sides, but that didn't mean she liked it. Not if it meant mistakes were still being made, mistakes that could be avoided.

With this job she'd found herself in a strange place ethically—on the one hand she wanted to
ensure the hospital was a safe place for all, and on the other hand she was responsible to the hospital board. Sometimes it was exciting and technically challenging, and other times she just felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. But she loved it nevertheless. There was still a lot to do here, and she'd always been up for a challenge.

She looked at a pile of employment contracts and a thick file regarding a sexual harassment complaint against a catering manager, all ready for her review. Bedtime reading. Geez, bedtimes had never been such fun.

And why, oh, why did an image of a naked Matteo suddenly flit into her head at the mention of bedtimes? It was impossible these days to think of anything without him straying into her thoughts.

She was not going to go to the pub. She was going to stay here and work. Neither was she going to indulge any fantasies about him touching her or kissing her or undressing her in a lift…which was her most recent one…or perhaps something in the on-call room. She'd heard many a tale about that kind of thing happening in hospitals. But, no—it was all out of bounds.

When she eventually looked up again she realised her assistant was watching her while dragging on a coat. ‘Yes, Becca?'

‘I don't know where your head was right then,
but it wasn't here. Maggie's coming in on Monday at two, Leslie will come straight after her shift on Tuesday at three-thirty.' Becca smiled. ‘So, you never did tell me why you came back from Theatre so early. Weren't you supposed to be with Dr Delicious all afternoon, you lucky thing?'

Oh. That. The hospital grapevine was alive and kicking and the news was bound to spread fast. She might as well front up to it, take the ribbing and move on. ‘You have to promise not to tell a soul. Or laugh. Or anything, at any point.'

With a very serious look on her face Becca drew a cross over her chest. ‘My word is my honour.'

‘I fainted.'

Becca bit her lips together to hold in a laugh. ‘Aha. Hmm. Okay. Understandable.'

‘Really? You think? Honestly?' Ivy breathed out a sigh of relief. It seemed the legal personnel had the same approach to bodies as she did. Preferring to look at them from the outside rather than the inside. ‘I can't tell you how much better that makes me feel. I was standing up for such a long time and it was very hot in there.'

‘Well, he definitely makes me all hot and bothered too.'

‘What?' She might have known Becca's answer would be hormone-related. ‘Oh, for goodness'
sake, I didn't faint because of him, I fainted because the air-conditioning was broken and all my blood was in my feet and, well, I…don't like seeing inside bodies much. Mr Finelli is just a man. He's nothing special. No need to get all giddy.'

‘Tell that to your face, Ivy. It's all red and blotchy.'

Ivy threw her assistant a smile. ‘You know, I preferred you when you were meek and polite.'

‘Sorry. Overstepping a little?'

‘Yes. Kind of.' But, truly, Ivy needed some people on her side. After the stuffy atmosphere in the board meetings and the heavy, long hours, which she really deep down didn't mind, sometimes it was nice to have a little girl time. Usually by the time she got home after a long day her flatmate had either gone to bed or had hit the town with her boyfriend. They had a great flatmate arrangement, it worked well and they didn't get under each other's feet, probably because they rarely spent more than an hour a week together. Which meant that Ivy would find herself alone most evenings. Which was fine, given she had so much work to keep her occupied, but sometimes… ‘Are you heading off now? Have a good weekend.'

Becca shook her head. ‘Actually, I'm heading
over to the pub. Everyone goes there on a Friday night. It's—'

As her heart fell Ivy interrupted, ‘Oh, you too? Let me guess, tradition, right?'

‘Tradition. Yes, most of the admin and support staff go—in fact, a lot of the hospital workers go. It's always good fun and there's karaoke later.'

‘All the more reason for me to stay here, then.' Shuffling bits of paper on a Friday night, looking across the road at the lights in the pub. Listening to the laughter. God, she could have her own pity party right here.

Becca frowned right back. ‘It's fun. Really. You should come. You don't have to sing.'

It wasn't the singing. It was the company. Certain company that she didn't want to face again today. ‘No can do. I'm busy.'

‘It'll wait. Turn your computer off.' With a dramatic flourish Becca stepped forward, stacked the files on the desk into a large pile and handed them over. She grinned, with no hint of apology. ‘I know…overstepping again, but it's Friday. Take your folders home and read all weekend if you like, but tonight you're coming for a drink. We never did get to celebrate your arrival here. And it's about time we did. I can't tell you what a breath of fresh air you've been in here.'

‘But… I… Wait…' To refuse would be rude. But to tell the truth would be embarrassing and
refute what she'd just said about Matteo being nothing special. Because, really, he was a teensy bit set apart from other men she'd dated in her dim and distant past. He was attentive and could be gentle and funny in a macho kind of way. Plus, he made her heart skip just a bit. And she was intrigued by him, by a man who could hold her attention longer than any other had. And by that body, which had her pulse racing at the strangest and most inappropriate moments.

Which was exactly why she had no intention of stepping over the threshold of that pub door.

* * *

‘Really. No. I can't. I'm just going to head right on home.'

‘Seriously, you've got this far, don't be embarrassed. You'll be fine, honestly. I bet it happens all the time anyway. People faint, get over it. Come on.' Becca tugged on Ivy's arm as she had been doing almost every step through the hospital corridors in an attempt to bring her down here to the pub, despite every excuse Ivy could think of. In the end she'd had to give in because, it appeared, no one was listening. ‘Last one at the bar buys the round.'

‘Fine. Just give me a moment.' Ivy watched her assistant's back disappear into the pub and took a deep breath. If she didn't look at him she'd be fine. He'd be in the middle of a group, she'd
shimmy past out of eye contact and hide in a dark corner with the rest of the admin staff.
No problemo
.

Taking another breath, she pushed the heavy door open and stepped in. The noise was bearable, people sat in groups and she could make out some familiar faces in the far corner, but as the door swung closed behind her everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at her.

Huh-huh. This was her idea of hell. Even though no one spoke she could almost read their thoughts.
She's the one who fainted. Top lawyer who's deep-down weak
.

But at least Matteo was nowhere to be seen.

At the bar Becca was talking to the barman, and beckoned Ivy over. ‘Seeing as you're paying, I'm having the biggest cocktail they do. A jug of Cancun margarita, I think. What would you like, Ivy?'

‘A glass of wine, please. Red.'
Make it a big one.

‘
They do a nice merlot. Oh, look…' Becca pointed across to the admin crowd, who were grinning and waving back. ‘Everyone's so pleased to see you.'

‘Or they're laughing at me.'

‘
So, Miss Ivy Leigh, you decided to brave it out after all?'
Great
. Matteo's voice behind her thrilled down her spine. She couldn't see him
but every tiny hair on her body was standing to attention in some sort of annoying hormonal salute to his arrival. Maybe the admin crowd hadn't been waving at her at all, maybe they'd all been giggling and flirting and fluttering their eyelashes at him.