Did he know what to do with his hands? Well, of course he did. He was a good-looking, confident, experienced man. He didn’t fumble in Resus and she didn’t for a moment expect him to fumble in the bedroom. He just wasn’t that type of guy.
She gave a sigh of exasperation. Pretending that she hadn’t noticed him or that he wasn’t attractive was just silly. Who was she kidding? Everyone had noticed him and with good reason.
Wealthy, good-looking doctors weren’t exactly a common species. Most of the doctors she worked with were pale-skinned and out of shape, like plants that had been deprived of sunlight. Stefano’s bronzed skin and Mediterranean good looks made him stand out like a bold sunflower in a field of withered dandelions.
But what really stayed in her mind was his skill as a doctor. He was breathtakingly skilled and ruthless in his demands for perfection, and yet at the same time he’d shown himself capable of displaying a surprising degree of compassion when it was required. He was gorgeous.
Seriously worried by her own thoughts, she gave herself a sharp talking to. Enough! Even thinking of him in that way was embarrassing. He was smooth, sophisticated and stunning whereas she was—she was…
Delusional, Liv thought, exasperated with herself. Delusional, for thinking that a man like him might be interested in someone like her.
Ordinary, wasn’t that what Jack had called her?
Ordinary. Dependable.
She was a good nurse, a loving mother and a caring friend. But she wasn’t sexy or glamorous.
And she wasn’t the sort of woman that a man like Stefano Lucarelli would ever notice.
She needed to stop thinking about sex and get on with her life.
* * *
‘Down the wing, Max, down the wing!’
Two days later Liv stood on edge of the school field with a row of parents. Several of the men had obviously taken the afternoon off from work to cheer the children on in their football match.
And it was cold. Really cold. Liv had wrapped a scarf around her neck but her breath clouded the freezing air and her fingers were numb.
‘Hi, Liv. You’ve met my husband, Simon, haven’t you?’ The mother of a boy in Max’s class was standing huddled next to a stocky, cheerful-looking man whose polished shoes looked out of place on the school playing field. A toddler slept in a pushchair next to her and every now and then she jiggled the handle to keep him asleep. Even under the large winter coat, it was obvious that she was very pregnant.
‘Hi, Simon.’ Liv smiled. ‘How are you, Claire? When’s the baby due?’
‘Christmas Day.’ Claire cast a teasing glance towards her husband. ‘You’ll be cooking the turkey, sunshine. Better start practising.’
‘Ah—I had something to tell you about that.’ Simon was concentrating hard on the game, his eyes following the ball. ‘I’ve invited my mother to stay at Christmas. It seemed like a good idea. Go on, James!’
‘You’ve invited your mother? Are you kidding?!’ Claire’s mouth dropped open but Simon was urging the team on and didn’t respond. Claire glanced at Liv and rolled her eyes. ‘Men! At the first hint of domestic work, they ring their mothers.’
Simon dragged his eyes from the pitch for half a second. ‘Did you really want to eat my turkey?’
Claire glared at him. ‘So you’re going to be on the sofa watching the TV?’
His eyes were back on the pitch. ‘I do my bit.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes, really! I’m the one that’s been coaching James on his football skills. And just look at him go!’ Simon gazed at his son proudly and Liv felt something uncurl inside her. Something uncomfortable that made her feel slightly sick.
She looked away quickly, reminding herself that she could kick a football with her son, too. But it wasn’t the same, was it? Sometimes she just ached when she saw the way Max stared longingly at the fathers playing with their sons in the park. She’d seen the way he sidled up to the fringes of other male groups, hoping to be included.
The truth was that there was no male influence in his life and he needed one. If she had the money she would have given him football coaching for his Christmas present but that was out of the question.
She was his football coach. She was everything.
Liv turned her attention back to the football match, shocked by the thick sludge of jealousy that surged through her veins.
Hating herself for feeling that way, she gritted her teeth. It wasn’t like her. She was incredibly lucky. She had a son she adored and a job she loved—a good life.