Luca's Bad Girl - By Amy Andrews Page 0,43

he hadn’t got his brother’s girlfriend—now wife—pregnant. A place where there were no toxic family relationships, where he hadn’t let anyone down, where no one disapproved.

And Mia was the perfect woman for that. Gorgeous, sexually uninhibited and emotionally unavailable.

That’s what he needed. Talking—not so much.

‘I just need to work.’

Mia nodded. ‘Cubicle two.’ And held her breath as Luca brushed past her.

Two hours later the department had quietened down. The minor burn victims had been triaged, assessed and transferred to the burns unit. Of the two more serious burns, one had gone to Theatre, the other to ICU.

Mia was able to breathe again. To think of something other than ABCs and burns percentages and fluid requirements. She glanced at Luca, who was writing in a chart. He glanced up at the same time and the heat flaring between them could have lit the Sydney Harbour Bridge for all eternity.

Okay. Enough. They’d been lovers—briefly. That was all and now it was over. They’d agreed. This … sexual ESP stuff couldn’t go on.

It just couldn’t.

She stood. ‘Can I speak with you please, Dr di Angelo?’ she asked quietly, looking around her at the completely disinterested staff going about their own business.

Luca looked up at her, the quiet steel in her voice at odds with the heat in her eyes. ‘On-call room?’

Mia felt the kick in her pulse. The things they’d done in that on-call room … But the fact was that their privacy was absolute there—the perfect place to tell him this couldn’t go on.

‘Sure.’

Mia turned and led the way on very shaky legs, hyper-aware of his gaze glued to her back. When she finally reached her destination she headed straight for the kitchenette and grabbed two mugs, absently going about the business of fixing them coffee. She heard the door shut behind her. Then lock. She was conscious of Luca leaning against it, watching her.

Mia turned to face him, her butt resting against the sink. He looked dark and wild and every fibre of her being wanted to melt into his arms. ‘We agreed not to do this any more.’

Luca hung onto the doorknob. She was right. They had. But he’d thought of nothing else for the last few hours. Since returning home. Hell, since leaving. And he’d happily walk away. But he needed tonight.

He didn’t know why. He just knew he did.

‘I know.’

Mia shook her head emphatically. ‘I don’t do this, Luca. We,’ she wagged her finger back and forth between the two of them. ‘We don’t do this.’

Luca pushed away from the door and prowled over, halting in front of her. Close enough to see the frantic flicker of the pulse at the base of her throat, the flare of her nostrils, the dilation of her pupils.

‘I know.’

Mia felt the rumble of his voice curl her toes. Lust, full and throaty and undisguised, thickened his accent. He crowded her against the sink and her fingers automatically curled into the sleeves of his shirt. Their bodies touched from hip to shoulder and it felt so good she almost whimpered.

Mia swallowed and clawed desperately for some self-control. ‘We’re alike, you and I, Luca. We have scars … trust issues. We guard our hearts. We don’t get involved. It’s why we’re emergency doctors—patch ’em up and ship ’em out, right? No time to get involved. It’s who we are.’

Luca looked deep into her eyes. ‘Who are you trying to convince Mia—me or yourself?’

Mia glared at him. Damn it, she was trying to walk this thing back. Why wasn’t he meeting her halfway? Why was he trying to change the boundaries he’d set before he’d left? Damn it all, the boundaries he lived by.

They both lived by.

‘Am I wrong?’ she challenged.

Luca shook his head. ‘No.’ In fact, she was one hundred per cent accurate. But that didn’t stop the primal beat of a jungle drum thrumming through his blood. His gaze brushed her mouth. ‘But I need this. I wish I didn’t. But I do.’

He placed a hand on the cold stainless-steel of the sink either side of her and dropped his head, claiming her mouth on a muffled groan. She opened for him instantly, her tongue seeking his, and his barely leashed desire blazed to life with all the heat and intensity of a solar flare.

His hands skimmed up her body and buried themselves in her hair, pulling at the band tying it back, releasing it in a tumble of blonde, his fingers seeking the spot where nape met scalp. Her corresponding moan