The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal

They didn’t notice him. In fact, they seemed incapable of noticing anyone, they were so drunk.

Gio stood still, sensing trouble. His dark eyes were suddenly watchful and he set the coffee down on the nearest table just in case he was going to need his hands.

One of them swore fluently as he crashed into a low table and sent magazines flying across the floor. ‘Where the hell’s the doctor in this place? Matt’s bleeding.’

The friend in question lurched forward, blood streaming from a cut on his head. His chest was bare and he wore a pair of surf shorts, damp from the sea and bloodstained. ‘Went surfing.’ He gave a hiccup and tried to stand up without support but failed. Instead he slumped against his friend with a groan, his eyes closed. ‘Feel sick.’

‘Surfing when you’re drunk is never the best idea.’ The girl behind the desk straightened and looked them over with weary acceptance. Clearly it wasn’t the first time she’d had drunks in the surgery. ‘Sit him down over there and I’ll take a look at it.’

‘You?’ The third teenager swaggered across the room, fingers tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He gave a suggestive wink. ‘I’m Jack. How about taking a look at me while you’re at it?’ He leaned across the desk, leering. ‘There are bits of me you might be interested in. You a nurse? You ever wear one of those blue outfits with a short skirt and stockings?’

‘I’m the doctor.’ The girl’s eyes were cool as she pulled on a pair of disposable gloves and walked round the desk without giving Jack a second glance. ‘Sit your friend down before he falls down and does himself more damage. I’ll take a quick look at him before I start surgery.’

Gio didn’t know who was more surprised—him or the teenagers.

She was the doctor?

She was Alice Anderson?

He ran a hand over the back of his neck and wondered why David had omitted to mention that his new partner was stunning. He tried to match up David’s description of a serious, academic woman with this slender, delicate beauty standing in front of him, and failed dismally. He realised suddenly that he’d taken ‘single’ to mean ‘mature’. And ‘academic’ to mean ‘dowdy’.

‘You’re the doctor?’ Jack lurched towards her, his gait so unsteady that he could barely stand. ‘Well, that’s good news. I love a woman with brains and looks. You and I could make a perfect team, babe.’

She didn’t spare him a glance, refusing to respond to the banter. ‘Sit your friend down.’ Her tone was firm and the injured boy collapsed onto the nearest chair with a groan.

‘I’ll sit myself down. Oh, man, my head is killing me.’

‘That’s what happens when you drink all night and then bang your head.’ Efficient and businesslike, she pushed up the sleeves of her plain blue top, tilted his head and took a look at the cut. She parted the boy’s hair gently and probed with her fingers. Her mouth tightened. ‘Well, you’ve done a good job of that. Were you knocked out?’

Gio cast a professional eye over the cut and saw immediately that it wasn’t going to be straightforward. Surely she wasn’t planning to stitch that herself? He could see ragged edges and knew it was going to be difficult to get a good cosmetic result, even for someone skilled in that area.

‘I wasn’t knocked out.’ The teenager tried to shake his head and instantly winced at the pain. ‘I swallowed half the ocean, though. Got any aspirin?’

‘In a minute. That’s a nasty cut you’ve got there and it’s near your eye and down your cheek. It’s beyond my skills, I’m afraid.’ She ripped off the gloves and took a few steps backwards, a slight frown on her face as she considered the options. ‘You need to go to the accident and emergency department up the coast. They’ll get a surgeon to stitch you up. I’ll call them and let them know that you’re coming.’

‘No way. We haven’t got time for that.’ The third teenager, who hadn’t spoken up until now, stepped up to her, his expression threatening. ‘You’re going to do it. And you’re going to do it here. Right now.’

She dropped the gloves into a bin and washed her hands. ‘I’ll put a dressing on it for you, but you need to go to the hospital to get it stitched. They’ll do a better job than I ever could. Stitching faces is an art.’

She turned to walk back across the reception area but the teenager called Jack blocked her path.

‘I’ve got news for you, babe.’ His tone was low and insulting. ‘We’re not going anywhere until you’ve fixed Matt’s face. I’m not wasting a whole day of my holiday sitting in some hospital with a load of sickos. He doesn’t mind a scar. Scars are sexy. Hard. You know?’

‘Whoever does it, he’ll be left with a scar,’ she said calmly, ‘but he’ll get a better result at the hospital.’

‘No hospital.’ The boy took a step closer and stabbed a finger into her chest. ‘Are you listening to me?’

‘I’m listening to you but I don’t think you’re listening to me.’ The girl didn’t flinch. ‘Unless he wants to have a significant scar, that cut needs to be stitched by someone with specific skills. It’s for his own good.’

It happened so quickly that no one could have anticipated it. The teenager backed her against the wall and put a hand round her throat. ‘I don’t think you’re listening to me, babe. It’s your bloody job, Doc. Stitch him up! Do it.’

Gio crossed the room in two strides, just as the teenager uttered a howl of pain and collapsed onto the floor in a foetal position, clutching his groin.

She’d kneed him.

‘Don’t try and tell me my job.’ She lifted her hand to her reddened throat. Her tone was chilly and composed and then she glanced up, noticed Gio for the first time and her face visibly paled. For a moment she just stared at him and then her gaze flickered towards the door, measuring the distance. Gio winced inwardly. It was obvious that she thought he was trouble and he felt slightly miffed by her reaction.

He liked women. Women liked him. And they usually responded to him. They chatted, they flirted, they sent him long looks. The look in Dr Anderson’s eyes suggested that she was calculating ways to injure him. All right, so he hadn’t had time to shave and change, but did he really look that scary?

He was about to introduce himself, about to try and redeem himself in her eyes, when the third teenager stepped towards the girl, his expression threatening. Gio closed a hand over his arm and yanked him backwards.

‘I think it’s time you left. Both of you.’ His tone was icy cool and he held the boy in an iron grip. ‘You can pick up your friend in an hour.’

The teenager balled his fists, prepared to fight, but then eyed the width of Gio’s shoulders. His hands relaxed and he gave a slight frown. ‘Whazzit to do with you?’

‘Everything.’ Gio stepped forward so that his body was between them and Dr Anderson. ‘I work here.’

‘What as?’ The boy twisted in his grip and his eyes slid from Gio’s shoulders to the hard line of his jaw. ‘A bouncer?’

‘A doctor. One hour. That’s how long I estimate it’s going to take to make a decent job of his face. Or you can drive to the hospital.’ Gio released him, aware that Alice was staring at him in disbelief. ‘Your choice.’

The teenager winced and rubbed his arm. ‘She…’ he jerked his head towards the doctor ‘…said he needed a specialist doctor.’

‘Well, this is your lucky day, because I am a specialist doctor.’

There was a long pause while the teenager tried to focus. ‘You don’t look anything like a doctor. Doctors shave and dress smart. You look more like one of those—those…’ His words slurred and he swayed and waved a hand vaguely. ‘Those Mafia thugs that you see in films.’

‘Then you’d better behave yourself,’ Gio suggested silkily, casting a glance towards his new partner to check she was all right. Her pallor was worrying him. He hoped she wasn’t about to pass out. ‘Leave now and come back in an hour for your friend.’

‘You’re not English.’ The boy hiccoughed. ‘What are you, then? Italian?’

‘I’m Sicilian.’ Gio’s eyes were cold. ‘Never call me Italian.’

‘Sicilian?’ A nervous respect entered the teenager’s eyes and he licked his lips and eyed the door. ‘OK.’ He gave a casual shrug. ‘So maybe we’ll come back later, like you suggested.’

Gio nodded. ‘Good decision.’

The boy backed away, still rubbing his arm. ‘We’re going. C’mon, Rick.’ He loped over to the door and left without a backward glance.

‘Dios, did he hurt you?’ Gio walked over to the girl and lifted a hand to her neck. The skin was slightly reddened and he stroked a finger carefully over the bruising with a frown. ‘We should call the police now.’

She shook her head and backed away. ‘No need. He didn’t hurt me.’ She glanced towards the teenager who was still sprawled over the seats of her waiting room and gave a wry shake of her head. ‘If you’re Dr Moretti, we’d better see to him before he’s sick on the floor or bleeds to death over my chairs.’

‘It won’t hurt him to wait for two minutes. You should call the police.’ Gio’s tone was firm. He didn’t want to be too graphic about what might have happened, but it was important that she acknowledge the danger. It hadn’t escaped him that if he hadn’t decided to arrive at the surgery early, she would have been on her own with them. ‘You should call them.’

She rubbed her neck. ‘I suppose you’re right. All right, I’ll do it when I get a minute.’

‘Does this happen often? I imagined I was coming to a quiet seaside village. Not some hotbed of violence.’

‘There’s nothing quiet about this place, at least not in the middle of summer,’ she said wearily. ‘We’re the only doctors’ surgery in this part of the town and the nearest A and E is twenty miles down the coast so, yes, we get our fair share of drama. David probably didn’t tell you that when he was persuading you to take the job. You can leave now, if you like.’

His eyes rested on her soft mouth. ‘I’m not leaving.’

There was a brief silence. A silence during which she stared back at him. Then she licked her lips. ‘Well, that’s good news for my patients. And good news for me. I’m glad you arrived when you did.’

‘You didn’t look glad.’

‘Well, a girl can’t be too careful and you don’t exactly look like a doctor.’ A hint of a smile touched that perfect mouth. ‘Did you see his face when you said you were Sicilian? I think they were expecting you to put a hand in your jacket and shoot them dead any moment.’

‘I considered it.’ Gio’s eyes gleamed with humour. ‘But I’ve only had one cup of coffee so far today. Generally I need at least two before I shoot people dead. And you don’t need to apologise for the mistake. I confess that I thought you were the receptionist. If you’re Alice Anderson, you’re nothing like David’s description.’

‘I can imagine.’ She spoke in a tone of weary acceptance. ‘David is seeing the world through a romantic haze at the moment. Be patient with him. It will pass, given time.’

He laughed. ‘You think so?’

‘Love always does, Dr Moretti. Like many viruses, it’s a self-limiting condition. Left alone, the body can cure itself.’

Gio searched her face to see if she was joking and decided that she wasn’t. Filing the information away in his brain for later use, he walked over to retrieve the coffee from the window-sill. ‘If you’re truly Dr Anderson, this is for you. An ice breaker, from me.’

She stared at the coffee with sudden hunger in her eyes and then at him. ‘You brought coffee?’ Judging from the expression on her face, he might have offered her an expensive bauble from Tiffany’s. She lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. Tired eyes. ‘For me? Is it black?’

‘Si.’ He smiled easily and handed her the coffee, amused by her response. ‘You have fans in the bakery who know every detail of your dietary preferences. I was told “just coffee” so I passed on the croissant.’

‘There’s no such thing as “just coffee”. Coffee is wonderful. It’s my only vice and currently I’m in desperate need of a caffeine hit.’ She prised the lid off the coffee, sniffed and gave a whimper of pleasure. ‘Large Americano. Oh, that’s just the best smell…’

He watched as she sipped, closed her eyes and savoured the taste. She gave a tiny moan of appreciation that sent a flicker of awareness through his body. He gave a slight frown at the strength of his reaction.

‘So…’ She studied him for a moment and then took another sip of coffee. Some of the colour returned to her cheeks. ‘I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow. Not that I’m complaining, you understand. I’m glad you’re early. You were just in time to save me from a nasty situation.’

‘I prefer to drive when the roads are clear. I thought you might appreciate the help, given that David has already been gone two days. We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Gio Moretti.’ He wanted to hold her until she stopped shaking but he sensed that she wouldn’t appreciate the gesture so he kept his distance. ‘I’m your new partner.’

She hesitated and then put her free hand in his. ‘Alice Anderson.’

‘I gathered that. You’re really not what I expected.’

She tilted her head to one side. ‘You’re standing in my surgery having frightened off two teenage thugs by your appearance and you’re telling me I’m not what you expected?’ There was a hint of humour in her blue eyes and his attention was caught by the length of her lashes.

‘So maybe I don’t fit anyone’s image of a conventional doctor right at this moment…’ he dragged his gaze away from her face and glanced down at himself with a rueful smile ‘…but I’ve been travelling all night and I’m dressed for comfort. After a shave and a quick change of clothes, I will be ready to impress your patients. But first show me to a room and I’ll stitch that boy before his friends return.’

‘Are you sure?’ She frowned slightly. ‘I mean, David told me you didn’t operate any more and—’

‘I don’t operate.’ He waited for the usual feelings to rise up inside him. Waited for the frustration and the sick disappointment. Nothing happened. Maybe he was just tired. Or maybe he’d made progress. ‘I don’t operate, but I can certainly stitch up a face.’

‘Then I’m very grateful and I’m certainly not going to argue with you. That wound is beyond my skills and I’ve got a full surgery starting in ten minutes.’ She looked at the teenager who was sprawled across the chairs, eyes closed, and sighed. ‘Oh, joy. Is it alcohol or a bang on the head, do you think?’

‘Hard to tell.’ Gio followed her gaze and shook his head slowly. ‘I’ll stitch him up, do a neurological assessment and then we’ll see. Is there anyone who can help me? Show me around? I can give you a list of what I’ll need.’

‘Rita, our practice nurse, will be here in a minute. She’s very experienced. Her asthma clinic doesn’t start until ten so I’ll send her in.’ Her eyes slid over him. ‘Are you sure you’re all right with this? We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow and if you’ve been travelling all night you must be tired.’

‘I’m fine.’ He studied her carefully, noting the dark shadows under her eyes. ‘In fact, I’d say that you’re the one who’s tired, Dr Anderson.’

She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Goes with the job. I’ll show you where you can work. We have a separate room for minor surgery. I think you’ll find everything you need but I can’t be sure. We don’t usually stitch faces.’

He followed her down the corridor, his eyes drawn to the gentle swing of her hips. ‘Do you have 5/0 Ethilon?’

‘Yes.’ She pushed open a door and held it open while he walked inside. ‘Is that all you need?’

‘The really important thing is to debride the wound and align the tissues exactly. And not leave the stitches in for too long.’

Her glance was interested. Intelligent. ‘I wish I had time to watch you. Not that I’m about to start suturing faces,’ she assured him hastily, and he smiled.

‘Like most things, it’s just a question of practice.’

She opened a cupboard. ‘Stitches are in here. Gloves on the shelf. You’re probably about the same size as David. Tetanus et cetera in the fridge.’ She waved a hand. ‘I’ll send Rita in with the patient. I’ll get on with surgery. Come and find me when you’ve finished.’

‘Alice.’ He stopped her before she walked out of the door. ‘Don’t forget to call the police.’

She tilted her head back and he sensed that she was wrestling with what seemed like a major inconvenience then she gave a resigned sigh.

‘I’ll do that.’

CHAPTER TWO

ALICE spoke to Rita, called the police and then worked flat out, seeing patients, with no time to even think about checking on her new partner.

‘How long have you had this rash on your eye, Mr Denny?’ As she saw her tenth patient of the morning, she thought gratefully of the cup of coffee that Gio Moretti had thought to bring her. It was the only sustenance she’d had all day.

‘It started with a bit of pain and tingling. Then it all went numb.’ The man sat still as she examined him. ‘I suppose all that began on Saturday. My wife noticed the rash yesterday. She was worried because it looks blistered. We wondered if I’d brushed up against something in the garden. You know how it is with some of those plants.’

Alice picked up her ophthalmoscope and examined his eye thoroughly. ‘I don’t think it’s anything to do with the garden, Mr Denny. You’ve got quite a discharge from your eye.’

‘It’s very sore.’

‘I’m sure it is.’ Alice put the ophthalmoscope down on her desk and washed her hands. ‘I want to test your vision. Can you read the letters for me?’

The man squinted at the chart on her wall and struggled to recite the letters. ‘Not very clear, I’m afraid.’ He looked worried. ‘My eyes have always been good. Am I losing my sight?’

‘You have a virus.’ Alice sat down and tapped something into her computer. Then she turned back to the patient. ‘I think you have shingles, Mr Denny.’

‘Shingles?’ He frowned. ‘In my eye?’

‘Shingles is a virus that affects the nerves,’ she explained, ‘and one in five cases occur in the eye—to be technical, it’s the ophthalmic branch of the trigeminal nerve.’

He pulled a face. ‘Never was much good at biology.’

Alice smiled. ‘You don’t need biology, Mr Denny. But I just wanted you to know it isn’t uncommon, unfortunately. I’m going to need to refer you to an ophthalmologist—an eye doctor at the hospital. Is there someone who can take you up there?’

He nodded. ‘My daughter’s waiting in the car park. She brought me here.’

‘Good.’ Alice reached for the phone and dialled the clinic number. ‘They’ll see you within the next couple of days.’

‘Do I really need to go there?’

Alice nodded. ‘They need to examine your eye with a slit lamp—a special piece of equipment that allows them to look at your eye properly. They need to exclude iritis. In the meantime, I’ll give you aciclovir to take five times a day for a week. It should speed up healing time and reduce the incidence of new lesions.’ She printed out the prescription on the computer as she waited for the hospital to answer the phone.

Once she’d spoken to the consultant, she quickly wrote a letter and gave it to the patient. ‘They’re really nice up there,’ she assured him, ‘but if you have any worries you’re welcome to come back to me.’

He left the room and Alice picked up a set of results. She was studying the numbers with a puzzled frown when Rita walked in. A motherly woman in her early fifties, her navy blue uniform was stretched over her large bosom and there was a far-away expression on her face. ‘Pinch me. Go on, pinch me hard. I’ve died and gone to heaven.’

Alice looked up. ‘Rita, have you seen Mrs Frank lately? I ran some tests but the results just don’t make sense.’ She’d examined the patient carefully and had been expecting something entirely different. She studied the results again. Perhaps she’d missed something.

‘Forget Mrs Frank’s results for a moment.’ Rita closed the door behind her. ‘I’ve got something far more important for you to think about.’

Alice didn’t look up. ‘I thought she had hypothyroidism. She had all the symptoms.’

‘Alice…’

Still absorbed in the problem, Alice shook her head. ‘The results are normal.’ She checked the results one more time and checked the normal values, just in case she’d missed something. She’d been so sure.

‘Alice!’ Rita sounded exasperated. ‘Are you even listening to me?’

Alice dragged her eyes away from the piece of paper in her hand, still pondering. Aware that Rita was glaring at her, she gave a faint smile. ‘Sorry, I’m still thinking about Mrs Frank,’ she admitted apologetically. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Dr Giovanni Moretti is the matter.’

‘Oh, my goodness!’ Alice slapped her hand over her mouth and rose to her feet quickly, ridden with guilt. ‘I’d totally forgotten about him. How could I?’

Rita stared at her. ‘How could you, indeed?’

‘Don’t! I feel terrible about it.’ Guilt consumed her. And after he’d been so helpful. ‘How could I have done that? I showed him into the room, made sure he had what he needed and I promised to look in on him, but I’ve had streams of patients this morning and I completely forgot his existence.’

‘You forgot his existence?’ Rita shook her head. ‘Alice, how could you possibly have forgotten his existence?’

‘I know, it’s dreadful! I feel terribly rude.’ She walked briskly round her desk, determined to make amends. ‘I’ll go and check on him immediately. Hopefully, if he’d needed any help he would have come and found me.’

‘Help?’ Rita’s tone was dry. ‘Trust me, Alice, the guy doesn’t need any help from you or anyone else. He’s slick. Mr Hotshot. Or I suppose I should call him Dr Hotshot.’

‘He’s finished stitching the boy?’ She glanced at her watch for the first time since she’d started surgery and realised with a shock that almost an hour and a half had passed.

‘Just the head, although personally I would have been happy to see him do the mouth as well.’ Rita gave a snort of disapproval. ‘Never heard such obscenities.’

‘Yes, they were pretty drunk, the three of them. How does the head look?’

‘Better than that boy deserves. Never seen a job as neat in my life and I’ve been nursing for thirty years,’ Rita admitted, a dreamy expression on her face. ‘Dr Moretti has amazing hands.’

‘He used to be a surgeon. If he’s done a good job and he’s finished, why did you come rushing in here telling me he was having problems?’

‘I never said he was having problems.’

‘You said something was the matter.’

‘No.’ Rita closed her eyes and sighed. ‘At least, not with him. Only with me. I think he’s fantastic.’

‘Oh.’ Alice paused by the door. ‘Well, he arrived a day early, brought me coffee first thing, sorted out a bunch of rowdy teenagers and stitched a nasty cut so, yes, I think he’s fantastic, too. He’s obviously a good doctor.’

‘I’m not talking about his medical skills, Alice.’

‘What are you talking about, then?’

‘Alice, he’s gorgeous. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed!’

‘Actually, I thought he looked a mess.’ Her hand dropped from the doorhandle and she frowned at the recollection. ‘But he’d been travelling all night.’

‘A mess?’ Rita sounded faint. ‘You think he looks a mess?’

Alice wondered whether to confess that she’d thought he looked dangerous. Strangely enough, the teenagers hadn’t bothered her. They were nothing more than gawky children and she’d had no doubts about her ability to handle them. But when she’d looked up and seen Gio standing there…

‘I’m sure he’ll look more respectable when he’s had a shower and a shave.’ Alice frowned. ‘And possibly a haircut. The boy was in such a state, I didn’t think it mattered.’

‘You didn’t even notice, did you?’ Rita shook her head in disbelief. ‘Alice, you need to do something about your life. The man is sex on a stick. He’s a walking female fantasy.’

Alice stared at her blankly, struggling to understand. ‘Rita, you’ve been married for twenty years and, anyway, he’s far too young for you.’

Rita gave her a suggestive wink. ‘Don’t you believe it. I like them young and vigorous.’