Margaret McDonagh - Italian Doctor, Dream Proposal

A high-voltage smile hit him full on, testing his restraint. ‘I’m very grateful, Rico. You’ve given so much of your time and I know how Judith and Pippa really appreciate your advice. As do I,’ she added shyly, touching his heart. And he loved the way she said his name, how her refined English voice, melodious but throaty, made it sound.

‘It has been my pleasure to help, carissima . And I shall be interested to hear how things progress in the weeks and months ahead. You must keep me up to date.’

‘Yes, of course. I’ll do that,’ she promised.

Rico knew that whatever happened between Ruth and himself in the next couple of days, the Warrens’ case would keep their link intact and the avenue of communication open. He obviously didn’t like the fact that Pippa was ill, but without Ruth being concerned and searching the internet for information, he would never have met her. And even after a very short time in her company, he could not now imagine his life without Ruth in it. He just hoped he didn’t mess things up.

Rico wished the moment of intense closeness could go on forever but, much to his regret, the call came to announce the start of the conference’s second session that would take them up to lunch.

‘As I have told you in our email exchanges, I am genuinely impressed by your skills. You have an innate gift for learning, Ruth, and for caring, for healing.’ Aware of people moving around them and returning to their places in the main room, Rico leaned closer and focused on Ruth. ‘We have no more time now, and this afternoon I have the workshop.’

‘I’m looking forward to it,’ she admitted, making him smile.

Private time with Ruth would be scarce, at least until the evening, but he was determined to be alone with her so he could learn all about her and do everything possible to persuade her to come and work with him. And be with him. Once more the line between professional and personal blurred.

‘We can continue our discussion later.’ He drew in a deep breath, realising how nervous he was, how desperate to get things right and not scare her away. ‘Will you have dinner with me tonight, Ruth?’

Time seemed suspended as he waited for her answer. He felt each beat of his heart beneath his ribs, was sure she must hear its anxious pounding. He watched her changing expressions, wondering what more he could do to convince her, nearly groaning aloud as she nibbled at her bottom lip, making him yearn to taste her, kiss her.

‘Yes…I will.’

The whispered words brought untold relief and gratitude that this first hurdle had been crossed. But he knew more lay ahead. They could sort out the details of the evening later. Now he had a few short hours in which to plan his campaign to get Ruth to say yes to a whole lot more than dinner.

’

FOR the tenth time in as many minutes, Ruth checked her watch. Any moment now, Rico would arrive to escort her to dinner and her anxiety was growing. As was her excitement. Her whole body felt alive with anticipation, her breathing was too fast and too shallow, and her blood was pulsing wildly though her veins. Unable to settle, she paced across the room and paused at the window, scarcely noticing the view out over the shimmering expanse of Morecambe Bay to the western horizon where the sun would soon be setting.

No matter how many times she told herself that the only reason she had accepted the invitation to have dinner with Rico was because of the work-related discussions they were going to have, she knew it was a lie. Just as she could not deceive herself about the extra effort she had made when getting dressed for the evening. She rarely wore dresses, but as well as insisting on swimwear, in the unlikely event she had time to try out the hotel’s indoor pool, Gina and Holly had persuaded her to bring her black dress—standard issue in most women’s wardrobes—in case of a smart dinner.

As promised, she had sent her two friends text messages to confirm she had arrived OK, but she had not divulged any information about Rico. Both were nurses. Gina McNaught at Strathlochan’s multi-purpose drop-in centre and Holly Tait on the children’s ward at Strathlochan Hospital. Both had expressed concern about her intention to accept the last-minute invitation to this conference, although Gina had been the most vociferous.

‘Being stuck with two hundred stuffy old doctors for a couple of days doesn’t sound like fun to me,’ Gina had complained in her soft Scottish burr. ‘Besides, you probably know more about the immune system and allergies than most of the delegates, even though you’ve only been learning about the subjects for the last month.’

Ruth hadn’t taken umbrage at the implication that she was a swot because she’d known no judgement had been intended. Not from Gina. Aside from the fact that her friend never said a bad word about anyone, there had been obvious affection and admiration in her voice. Far removed from the criticism, resentment and snideness Ruth had become accustomed to all her life…first at home, then at school, following on during her medical training, and now in her first job as a GP.

‘You’ll be too busy overseeing final preparations for your wedding on Saturday to even notice I’m away,’ Ruth had teased in an effort to reassure her friend.

‘I’ll notice. And I can’t get married without you and Holly beside me as my bridesmaids. So make sure you don’t let the mysterious specialist you’ve been emailing persuade you to disappear off to America to work for him.’ Genuine worry had laced Gina’s tone. ‘Remember how much we all love you here.’

Recalling the words now brought a lump to Ruth’s throat, just as they had at the time. She wasn’t good at emotion and personal involvement. And she had no idea how to deal with affection, especially when directed at her, as she had never experienced it in her life before. Not until she had arrived in Strathlochan a couple of years ago when, much to her surprise and bemusement, she had immediately been taken under the protective wings of Gina and Holly. Likewise, the warm and generous welcome she had received from many within the local medical community had been equally unforeseen and overwhelming.

Snapping back to the problem at hand, Ruth nibbled her lower lip in indecision, wondering for the umpteenth time whether to change into something else. Turning round, she cast a nervous glance at her reflection in the hotel room’s full-length mirror. The hem of the dress brushed her knees, while the sleeves were three-quarter length and the neckline demure. More than respectable. Not at all revealing. Her freshly washed hair had been left loose, and she was wearing flat shoes, dark tights and the bare minimum of make-up. With her watch and her late grandmother’s locket on a chain around her neck her only additions, she should have looked stylish but unnoticeable. Not like a maiden schoolmarm, exactly, but far removed from the sensual siren who now gazed back at her. Her eyes looked huge and startled as she studied her alien image, awed and alarmed at the way the fabric hugged her body, subtly hinting at every curve.

This was not the effect she had intended. She had no idea what had gone wrong. And she was certainly nothing like the stranger she saw in the mirror. It had been a while since she had last worn the dress but she didn’t remember it ever looking this provocative. Had she realised, she never would have packed it, no matter what Gina and Holly had said.

A sudden knock at the door made her jump and warned her that there was no more time for indecision. Or to change her clothes. Pressing her palms to her cheeks, finding them unusually warm, she walked towards the door, wishing now that she was meeting Rico downstairs amongst the other delegates instead of agreeing that he call for her at her room. Sucking in a steadying breath, sure he would hear each rapid beat of her heart, she opened the door, only for all the air to leave her lungs in a rush when she saw him.

Wearing designer jeans, a black crew-neck sweater and a mid-brown leather jacket, Rico looked casual but smart…and devastatingly handsome. He hadn’t shaved, so still had the roguish, bad-boy edge she had uncharacteristically found so sexy when she had first seen him. Her gaze clashed with his and the hunger in gold-flecked hazel eyes seared her to her soul. He took his time looking over her from head to toe and back again, his appreciation so blatant that even she, with her total lack of self-confidence, could not fail to grasp that he liked what he saw.

Ruth shivered. Rico looked as if he wanted to forget all about dinner and would rather stay and feast on her instead. The knowledge weakened her knees. And her resolve. An unrecognisable part of her willed her surrender. A wild and wicked side she had never known she possessed had been fighting for freedom ever since she had met Rico. She had never found pleasure with a man, and her failings as a woman had been well and truly drummed into her, so this new and sudden desire was shocking and bewildering. Her attraction to Rico scared her—almost as much as his apparent attraction to her.

‘Good evening, Ruth.’ Taking her by surprise, his hands settled on her upper arms and drew her closer so he could place a kiss on each cheek. Her skin tingled from the brush of his lips and her hastily indrawn breath was fragranced with his arousing cedar-wood scent. ‘You look beautiful.’

She didn’t believe his extravagant compliment, but politeness demanded her response. ‘Th-thank you.’

‘You are ready to go?’ he queried, his hands gliding slowly down her arms before releasing her.

‘Yes. I’ll just get my things.’

Turning away to pick up her bag and room key, Ruth used the few seconds to try and regain some measure of composure. She only had to be near Rico and her body betrayed her. That the phenomenon had been happening all day, from the first moment they had looked at each other, in no way made it easier for her to understand. Why now? Why this man when no other had ever stirred her interest?

Before she could wrestle with the questions any further, Rico stepped into the room, the door slowly swinging to behind him. ‘Allow me to help you with your coat,’ he said, picking up the garment she had left draped over the back of a chair.

Ruth frowned in puzzlement. Why did she need to wear a coat to go to dinner in the hotel restaurant? Too on edge to argue, she did as she was bid as he held it ready for her to put on. His solicitousness came as no surprise. She had discovered many times during the day that his manners and courtesy were instinctive, and shown to men, as well as women, young and old alike.

Far too aware of his nearness, Ruth slipped each arm in turn into the coat sleeves, an aching knot forming deep inside her as his hands lingered a moment before gently gathering up the long strands of her hair and easing them out from under the collar, his fingers brushing tantalisingly across the back of her neck. The temptation to remain in his arms, to lean back against him, was hard to resist. Forcing herself to move, she stepped forward, but failed to break the contact between them, or the electric connection, as Rico slowly turned her to face him. Several seconds ticked by as they watched each other in silence.

‘Green.’

Ruth stared at him in confusion. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Your eyes,’ he explained, voice husky. ‘I expected them to be blue.’

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you.’

Her response was sharper than she had intended but his comment had played on her insecurities, her belief that she never met expectations. She turned her head away, discomfited by his inspection, angry with herself for her naivety. Even if she wanted more than the possibility of working with him—which she didn’t, she was swift to try and convince herself—she could never be enough for a man as successful, intelligent and good looking as him. The intense and shocking moment of connection when they had first looked at each other had clearly short-circuited her brain.