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‘I don’t think it worked.’ Her expression was slightly dazed and her voice was smoky and feminine. ‘Want to try it again?’
Carlo lowered his head and kissed her thoroughly, this time releasing his grip so that he could use his hands to haul her body even closer to his.
He felt her shudder under him, felt her slim arms slide round his neck, and for endless moments he was lost in the soft, sweet wonder of her mouth.
Then he heard a shout from the pavement opposite and rolled to his feet, instantly alert.
Be discreet, his father and brother had said.
Lying on a snowy pavement kissing a gorgeous female in full view of anyone who happened to pass probably didn’t qualify, he admitted ruefully, reaching down a hand to pull her up.
She staggered to her feet and then jerked her hand away as if his touch had singed her.
‘I can’t believe we just did that.’ She backed away from him and lifted her fingers to her lips, her expression stunned. ‘I can’t believe I let you kiss me. You’re a stranger. I don’t kiss strangers.’
She looked confused and wary, and he forced himself to stand still and give her some space. He could hardly blame her for being nervous of him. After all, she’d just been mugged.
Carlo searched for the words to reassure her, but before he could speak she stooped to pick up the bin bag and winced in pain.
‘Are you hurt?’ He frowned, surprised and confused by the rush of possessiveness that swamped him. He didn’t even know her name, but the thought that they’d hurt her filled him with red-hot anger. ‘That was a nasty kick.’
He searched his brain for a non-sexual way of suggesting that he take a look at her stomach. He was a doctor after all.
‘I’m OK.’ She brushed her snowy dark hair away from her exquisite face. ‘I suppose I’ve got you to thank for that.’ She gave him a cautious look, still keeping herself at a safe distance. ‘If you hadn’t intervened he probably would have used that knife. I’m sorry I floored you. It all happened so fast I panicked. I thought you were with them.’
She still looked wary, and every muscle in her body was tense, but at least she hadn’t run off.
‘Don’t apologise. I’m glad you floored me.’ Remembering the feel of her soft body under his, he was more than glad. If she hadn’t done that, he probably wouldn’t have kissed her. And, having kissed her…
His eyes dropped hungrily to her mouth again and he wrestled with the instinct to act like a caveman and drag her somewhere quiet, where he could make love to her until she couldn’t stand up.
But she was visibly nervous and he wasn’t going to blow his chances by rushing her. So, instead of grabbing her, he pushed his hands firmly into his pockets and kept his distance.
‘Do you always kiss people who knock you to the ground?’ She was watching him carefully with those incredible eyes, as if she hadn’t quite decided whether she should run or not.
‘Never.’
Her fingers tightened on the bin bag. ‘So why did you kiss me, then?’
Carlo was finding it harder and harder to breathe normally. ‘Because you’re stunning.’
The wariness left her face and she threw back her head and laughed aloud. ‘Dressed in torn jeans and an ancient coat with a woollen hat on my head? Very sexy, I’m sure.’
‘Kissing is a good way of distracting an attacker,’ he drawled, unable to drag his gaze away from her gorgeous face. ‘It’s the element of surprise.’
‘Well, I’ve done judo since I was six but that’s a move I’ve never used,’ she confessed, still smiling. Suddenly she seemed more relaxed. Her eyes sparkled and snow stuck to her lashes and shiny dark hair, and it occurred to him that if he could have anything he wanted for Christmas then it would be her.
Preferably unwrapped.
‘Are you saying that you’ve never been kissed by your opponent before?’ His words and eyes teased her but his body and brain were deadly serious as he moved closer. ‘You’ve been missing out.’
Their eyes locked and she smiled hesitantly. ‘It certainly takes your mind off fighting.’ Suddenly her smile faded and she stared at his cheekbone in dismay. ‘Oh, no! Did I do that? Have I given you a black eye?’
He didn’t care about his eye. At the moment he was more concerned about other parts of his anatomy that he was finding distinctly uncomfortable. His jeans were just too tight to accommodate such an extreme reaction.
She stood on tiptoe and touched his bruised cheekbone gingerly, her voice contrite. ‘We ought to get some ice on that.’
Ice. He gritted his teeth. Maybe if he thought about ice it would help him out of his dilemma. He was reacting like a hormonal teenager.
