Unwrapping Her Italian Doc by Carol Marinelli Page A

tender. It was a gentle kiss but it delivered such promise. His tongue was hers again to enjoy. His hands moved under her coat and stroked her back and waist so lightly it was almost a tickle, and when their lips parted their faces barely broke contact and Louise’s short breaths blew white in the night. She was ridiculously turned on in his arms.
    ‘We need get there,’ Anton said.
    ‘Should we arrive together?’ Louise asked. ‘If we’re going to be discreet?’
    ‘Of course,’ Anton said, ‘we left work at the same time.’
    She went into her bag, which was as well organised as her pockets at work, and did a quick repair job on her face and handed Anton a baby wipe.
    ‘Actually, have the packet,’ Louise said, and Anton pocketed it with a smile.
    He might rather be needing them.
    It was everything a Christmas party should be.
    The theme was fun and midwives knew how to have it.
    All the Christmas music was playing and Louise was the happiest she had been in a very, very long time amongst her colleagues and friends. Anton was there in the background, making her toes curl in her strappy stilettoes as she danced and had fun and made merry with friends while he suitably ignored her. Now and then, though, they caught the other’s eye and had a little smile.
    It was far less formal than the theatre do and everyone let off a little seasonal steam, well, everyone but Anton.
    He stood chatting with Stephanie and Rory, holding his sparkling water, even though he was off duty now until Monday.
    ‘Louise,’ Rory called to her near the end of the evening, ‘what are you doing for Emily at Christmas?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Louise said. ‘I’ve been racking my brains. She’s got everything she needs really but I’m going Christmas shopping tomorrow. I might think of something then.’
    ‘Well, let me know if you want to go halves,’ Rory said. ‘Or if you see something I could get, then could you get it for me?’
    ‘I shall.’
    ‘I’m going to take Stephanie home,’ Rory said, and as Stephanie went to get her coat, even though Anton was there, Louise couldn’t resist, once Stephanie had gone, asking Rory a question.
    ‘Is it Stephanie?’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘The woman you like.’
    ‘God.’ Rory rolled his eyes. ‘Why did I ever say anything?’
    ‘Because we’re friends.’
    ‘Just drop it,’ Rory said. ‘And, no, it’s not Stephanie.’ He let out a laugh at Louise’s suggestion. ‘She’s married with two children.’
    ‘Maybe that’s why you have to keep it so quiet.’
    ‘Louise, it’s not Stephanie and you are to leave this alone.’ He looked at Anton. ‘She’s relentless.’
    ‘She is.’
    Louise pulled a face at Rory’s departing back and then turned and it was just she and Anton.
    ‘Do you want a drink?’ Anton asked.
    ‘No, thanks,’ Louise said. ‘I’ve had one snowball too many.’
    ‘What
are
you drinking?’ Anton asked, because he had seen the pale yellow concoction she had been drinking all night.
    ‘Snowballs—Advocaat, lemonade and lime juice,’ she pulled a face.
    ‘You don’t like them?’
    ‘I like the
idea
of them,’ Louise said, and then her attention was shot as a song came on. ‘Ooh, I love this one …’
    ‘Of course you do.’
    ‘No, seriously, it’s my favourite.’
    It was dance with her or watch her dance alone.
    ‘I thought we were being discreet?’ Louise said.
    ‘It’s just a dance,’ Anton said, as she draped her arms round his neck. ‘But Rory’s right—you are relentless.’
    ‘I know I am.’ Louise smiled.
    They were as discreet as two bodies on fire could be, just swaying and looking at each other and talking.
    ‘I want to kiss you under the mistletoe,’ Anton said.
    ‘I assume we’re not talking about the sad bunch hanging at the bar.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Did you know these stockings come with matching underwear?’
    ‘I do,’ Anton said, ‘I saw your work in the magazine.’
    ‘Did you like?’
    ‘I like.’ Anton