Italian Surgeon to the Stars by Melanie Milburne

puzzlement. ‘Done what?’
    ‘Paid you five million.’
    I swallowed thickly. ‘I’m sure you’re not lacking in available and willing partners.’
    He lifted a hand to brush back one of my escaping curls and carefully tucked it back behind my ear. ‘No. But none quite like you.’
    I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his lustrous brown gaze. I moistened my lips with a quick dart of my tongue, my pulse doingone of its mad sprints that made me feel light-headed and a little off-balance.
    ‘This is all types of crazy. You. Me. It’s not going to happen.’
    He traced a spine-tingling pathway along my jawbone from below my ear to my chin. There was no reason why I couldn’t have pulled back from his touch but somehow I didn’t. I couldn’t. There was something in his caress that was almost wistful. Nostalgic.
    ‘Have you been back to Paris since?’ he asked.
    ‘No.’
    His mouth took on a rueful twist. ‘Have I ruined it for you?’
    I made a scoffing noise. ‘Of course not.’
    His eyes searched mine. ‘Sure?’
    ‘Absolutely,’ I said. ‘I was over you as soon as I boarded the plane back home.’
    It’s a pretty handy skill to be good at lying. My sister and I are masters at it. We’ve had to be. Years of trying to pretend we had normal parents gave us an edge in the lying stakes. All those schools we had to fit in to made us experts.
    We learned early on how to lie through our teeth and how to control our giveaway body language. No nose-rubbing or face-touching.Always maintaining eye contact. No fidgeting. No looking to the right. I’ve told some porkies in my time, and no one’s caught me out.
    But for all that I didn’t think Alessandro was buying it. His fingertip skated over the vermilion border of my lower lip, triggering sensations I felt all the way to my core.
    ‘So why no steady relationship since me?’ he asked.
    ‘I’m a career girl—that’s why.’
    ‘Can’t women have it all these days?’
    I decided against maintaining eye contact. I’m good at lying, but not that good. I looked at his tanned neck instead.
    ‘Why do you keep touching me?’
    ‘I like touching you.’
    ‘It’s not appropriate, given our…circumstances.’ I was going to say relationship but thought better of it.
    He put his finger underneath my chin until our gazes met. ‘You like it too. I can feel it. It’s always been like that between us, hasn’t it?’
    I wanted to deny it. It was just a matter of saying the words. But my voice refused to work. I could feel myself being drawn into that coal-black gaze until I was all but mesmerised.His thumb brushed over my lower lip, sending a riot of sensations through me.
    ‘How much do I have to pay you to have dinner with me?’ he said.
    ‘You don’t have to pay me,’ I said, suddenly embarrassed at the way I’d handled things.
    What did money have to do with what I felt about him? If I wanted to spend the evening with him I would. It didn’t have to mean we were resuming our fling. Besides, I wanted to dig a little deeper into his background, find out a little more about his sister. A dinner on neutral ground would be just the ticket.
    ‘That’s crazy. Dinner’s just dinner. We can split the bill.’
    His half smile made something in my stomach slip sideways. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow night.’
    Why not tonight? I thought with a little pang of disappointment.
    As if he could read my mind, he added, ‘I have to go to London to check on a transplant patient.’
    ‘How are you managing your work with all this?’ I nodded towards the house.
    He gave me a weary-looking smile. ‘It’s a balancing act—probably no different fromwhat your average working woman does every day.’
    ‘True, but surely you’ve got help? A nanny organised for the holidays and a housekeeper and so on?’
    ‘Can you recommend anyone?’
    ‘As a nanny?’
    He nodded. ‘I’ve interviewed four or five, but I can’t seem to find what I’m looking for.’
    I