Unwrapping Her Italian Doc (8 page)

‘How are you, Louise?’ Alex asked. ‘Missing Theatre?’

‘A bit,’ Louise admitted, ‘although I simply love it here.’

‘Well, we miss you,’ Alex said kindly, and then glanced over to the nurses’ station, where Anton was writing his notes. ‘Oh, there’s Anton. Jennifer, I must introduce you—’

‘Not now, darling,’ Jennifer said. ‘We really do have to get home for Josie.’

‘It will just take two minutes.’ Alex was insistent but as he went to walk over, Jennifer caught his arm.

‘Alex, I really am tired.’

‘Of course.’ Alex changed his mind and they wished Louise goodnight before heading off the ward.

Louise looked at Anton, remembering the night of the theatre do and Anton’s stilted response when Alex had said he hadn’t yet met his wife. Even if she and Anton were trying to keep their distance a touch, Louise couldn’t resist meddling.

‘She’s gone,’ Louise said, as he carried on writing.

‘Who?’

‘Jennifer.’

‘That’s good.’

‘She’s nice, isn’t she?’ Louise said, and watched his pen pause for a second.

‘So I’ve heard,’ Anton responded, and carried on writing.

‘Have you met her?’

Anton looked up and met Louise’s eyes, which were sparkling with mischief. ‘Should I have?’

‘I don’t know.’ Louise smiled, all the more curious, but, looking at him, properly looking at him for the first time since he had handed her the referral, she was curious now for different reasons. ‘Why aren’t we talking, Anton?’

‘We’re talking now.’

‘Why are you checking everything I do?’

‘I’m not.’

‘Believe me, you are. I might just as well give you
the obs trolley and follow you around and simply write your findings down.’

‘Louise, I like to check my patients myself. It has nothing to do with you.’

‘Okay.’ She went to go but changed her mind. ‘We’re not talking, though, are we?’

He glanced at the sticking plaster on her arm from where she had had blood tests. ‘How was your appointment?’

‘He was very informative,’ Louise said.

‘You’re seeing him again?’

‘In January.’ Louise nodded.

‘May I ask …?’ Anton said, and Louise closed her eyes.

‘Please don’t.’

‘So I just sit here and say nothing?’ Anton checked.

He glanced down the corridor. ‘Come to my office.’

Louise did as she wanted to hear what he had to say.

‘I want to see if we can have a chance and I don’t think we’ll get one with you about to go on IVF.’

‘Oh, so I’m to put all my plans on hold because you now think we might have a chance.’

‘I don’t think that’s unreasonable.’

‘I do,’ Louise said. ‘I very much do. I’ve liked you for months,’ she said, ‘months and months, and now, when I’m just getting it together, when I’m going ahead with what I’ve decided to do, you suddenly decide, oh, okay, maybe I’ll give her a try.’

‘Come off it, Louise …’

‘No, you come off it,’ Louise snapped back. A part of her knew he was right but the other part of her knew that she was. She’d cancelled her dreams for a man once
before and had sworn never to do it again and so she went to walk off.

‘You won’t even discuss it?’

‘I need to think,’ Louise said.

‘Think with me, then.’

‘No.’

She was scared to, scared that he might make up her mind, and she was so past being that person. Instead, she gave him a cheeky smile. ‘Richard told me to have a
very
nice Christmas.’

Her smile wasn’t returned.

‘I’m not into Christmas.’

‘I meant—’

‘I know what you meant, Louise,’ Anton said. ‘You want some gun for hire.’

‘Ooh, Anton!’ Louise smiled again and then thought for a moment. ‘Actually, I do.’

‘Tough.’

Anton stood in his office for a few moments as she walked off.

Maybe he’d been a bit terse there, he conceded.

But it was hearing Louise talk about egg sharing with Emily that had had him on edge. From the little Louise had told him about her fertility issues he had guessed IVF would be her best option if she wanted to get pregnant. Often women changed their minds after the first visit. He had hoped it might be the case with Louise while deep down knowing that it wouldn’t be.

He had seen her sitting in the canteen with her mother today—and it had to have been her mum as Anton could see where Louise had got her looks from—but even that had caused disquiet.

Louise had talked this through with her family. It was clearly not a whim.

It just left no room for them.

Anton wanted more than just sex for a few weeks.

Then he changed his mind because a few weeks of straight sex sounded pretty ideal right now.

Perhaps they should try pushing things aside and just seeing how the next few weeks unfolded.

He walked out of his office and there was Louise, walking with a woman in labour. She caught his eye and gave him a wink.

Anton smiled in return.

The tease was back on.

‘I
AM SO
, so jealous!’ Emily said, as Louise teetered in on high heels on Friday night, having finished her shift and got changed into her Christmas party clothes.

‘It’s fine that you’re jealous,’ Louise said to Emily, ‘because I am so, so jealous of you. I’d love to be in bed now, nursing my bump.’

‘You look stunning,’ Hugh said.

Louise was dressed in a willow-green dress that clung to her lack of curves and she had her Mistletoe range stockings on, which came with matching panties, bra and suspenders. As they chatted Louise topped her outfit off with a very red coat that looked more like a cape and was a piece of art in itself.

‘God help Anton,’ Hugh said openly to Louise.

‘Sadly, he’s stuck on the ward.’ Louise rolled her eyes. ‘So that was a waste of six pounds.’

As she headed out Hugh turned to Emily, who was trying not to laugh at Hugh’s reaction.

‘Was she talking about condoms?’ Hugh asked.

‘She was.’

Oh, Louise was!

As she approached the elevator, there was Anton and his patient must have been sorted because he had
changed out of scrubs and was wearing black jeans and a black jumper and looked as festive as one might expect for Anton. He smelt divine, though, Louise thought as she stood beside him, waiting for the lift. ‘You’ve escaped for the weekend,’ Louise said.

‘I have.’

‘Me too!’

She looked at the clothes he was wearing. Black trousers, a black shirt and a very dark grey coat. He looked fantastic rather than festive. ‘I didn’t know they did out-of-hours funerals,’ Louise said as they stepped into the elevator and her eyes ran over his attire.

‘You would have me in a reindeer jumper.’

‘With a glow stick round your neck,’ Louise said as she selected the ground floor. ‘It will be fun tonight.’

‘Well, I’m just going to put my head in to be polite,’ Anton said. ‘I don’t want to stay long.’

‘Yawn, yawn,’ Louise said. ‘You really are a misery at Christmas, Anton. Well, I’m staying right to the end. I missed out on far too many parties last year.’

She leant against the wall and gave him a smile when she saw he was looking at her.

‘You look very nice,’ Anton said.

‘Thank you,’ Louise responded, and she felt a little rush as his eyes raked over her body and this time Anton did look down, all the way to her toes and then back up to her eyes.

She resented that the lift jolted and that the doors opened and someone came in. They all stood in silence but this was no socially awkward nightmare. His delicious, slow perusal continued all the way to the ground floor.

‘Do you want a lift to the party?’ Anton offered.

‘It’s a five-minute walk,’ Louise said. ‘Come back later for your car.’

They stepped out and it was snowing, just a little. It was too damp and not cold enough for it to settle but there in the light of the streetlamps she could see the flakes floating in the night and he saw her smile and chose to walk the short distance.

It was cold, though, and Louise hated the cold.

‘I should have worn a more sensible coat,’ Louise said through chattering teeth because her coat, though divine, was a bit flimsy. It was the perfect red, though, and squishy and soft, and she dragged it out every December and she explained that to Anton. ‘But this is my Christmas party coat. It wasn’t the most thought-out purchase of my life.’

‘You have a Christmas coat?’

‘I have a Christmas wardrobe,’ Louise corrected. ‘So, you’re just staying for a little while.’

‘No,’ Anton said.

‘Oh, I thought you said—’

‘You ruined my line. I was going to suggest that you leave five minutes after me but then you said that you were looking forward to it.’

‘Oh!’

‘I think you are right and that we should enjoy Christmas, perhaps together, and stop concerning ourselves with other things.’ He stopped walking and so did she and they faced each other in the night and he pulled her into his lovely warm coat. ‘Can you be discreet?’

‘Not really,’ Louise said with a smile, ‘but I am discreet about important things.’

‘I know.’

‘And having a nice Christmas is a very important thing,’ she went on, ‘so, yes, I’ll be discreet.’

Pressed together, her hands under his coat and around his waist there was nothing discreet about Anton’s erection.

‘I would kiss you but …’ He looked down at her perfectly painted lips for about half a second because he didn’t care if it ruined her make-up and neither did she. It had been a very long December, all made worth it by this.

After close to two weeks of deprivation Louise returned to his mouth. His kiss was warm and his lips 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 nodded. ‘As I said, I want to kiss you under the mistletoe.’

‘I am so turned on.’ She stated the obvious because he could feel every breath that blew from her lips, he could see her pulse galloping in her neck as well as the arousal in her eyes.

‘Good.’

‘We need to leave,’ Louise said.

‘I’m going to go and speak to Brenda and then leave, and you’re going to hang around for a little while and then we meet at my car.’

‘I live a two-minute walk from here,’ Louise said.

‘Okay …’

She loved his slow smile as she gave him her address. ‘I’ll slip the key into your coat pocket,’ Louise said. ‘You can go and put the kettle on.’

‘I shall.’

‘Please don’t,’ Louise said. ‘I meant—’

‘Oh, I get what you meant.’

Anton said his goodbyes and chatted with Brenda for an aching ten minutes, though on the periphery of his vision he could see Louise near the coats but then off she went, back to the dance floor.

Anton headed out into the night and found her home very easily. Louise had left the heating on. She loathed coming home to a cold house and a furnace of heat hit
Anton as he opened the door as well as the dazzle of decorations, which were about as subtle as Louise.

And as for the bedroom!

Anton couldn’t help but smile as he stepped inside Madame Louise’s chamber. He looked at the crushed velvet bed that matched the crushed velvet chair by the dressing table and he looked at the array of bottles and make-up on it.

Anton undressed and got into her lovely bed. He had never met someone so unabashed and he liked that about her, liked that she was who she was.

Louise had never been more in demand than in the ten minutes at the end of the party. Everyone,
everyone
wanted her to stop for a chat, and just as she finally got her coat on and was leaving, Brenda suggested they drop over to Louise’s as some work dos often ended up there.

‘I can’t tonight,’ Louise said. ‘Mum’s over.’

‘Your mum?’

‘I think she and Dad had a row,’ Louise lied, but she had to, as her mind danced with a sudden vision of a naked Anton in the hallway greeting half of the maternity staff. ‘It’s a bit of a sensitive point.’

Louise texted him as she walked out.

I just told the biggest lie

Should I be worried that there is a crib in your bedroom? Anton texted back.

She laughed because she had already told him it was for Emily’s baby and it was wrapped in Cellophane too, so she continued the tease.

Aren’t we making a baby tonight? Louise fired back.
Get here!!!

She waved as a car carrying her friends tooted, trying not to run on shaky, want-filled legs, and almost breaking her ankle as she walked far too fast for her stilettoes.

She could barely get the key in the door, just so delighted by the turn of events—that they were going to put other things on hold and simply enjoy. Her coat dropped to the floor as she stepped into the bedroom and there he was, naked in her bed and a Christmas wish came true.

‘Who’s been sleeping in my bed?’ Louise smiled.

‘No sleeping tonight,’ Anton said. ‘Come here.’

Louise was not shy; she went straight over, kneeling on her bed and kissing him without restraint.

It was urgent.

Anton was at the tie of her dress as their mouths bruised each other’s. He tried to peel it off over arms that were bent because she was holding his head, tonguing him, wanting him, but there was something she first had to do.

‘I have to take my make-up off.’

‘I’ll lick it off.’

‘Seriously.’ She could hardly breathe, she was somehow straddling him, her dress gaped open and it would be so much easier not to reach for the cold cream. ‘It’s not vanity, it’s work ethic—I’ll look like a pizza for my photo shoot otherwise …’

She climbed off the bed and shed her dress and Anton got the full effect of her stunning underwear, and as beautiful as the pictures had been he far preferred the un-airbrushed version.

Louise sat on her chair and slathered her face in cold cream, quickly wiping it off and wishing she hadn’t worn so much mascara. Just as she had finished she felt the chair turn and she was face to groin with a naked Anton.

‘Poor Anton,’ Louise said.

‘Not any more,’ Anton said, as she started to stroke him. She went to lower her head but he was starting to kneel.

‘Stay …’ Louise said, because she wanted to taste him.

‘You can have it later.’

He caressed the insides of her thighs through her stockings then the white naked flesh so slowly that she was twitching. He stroked her through her damp panties till he moved them aside and explored her again with his fingers till she could almost stand it no more. Her thighs were shaking and finally his hands went for her mistletoe panties and slid them down so slowly that Louise was squirming. Anton pulled her bottom right to the edge of the chair and then took one stockinged leg and put it over his shoulder and then slowly did the same with the other. Such was the greed in his eyes she was almost coming as finally he did kiss what had been under the silken mistletoe.

Louise looked down but his eyes were closed in concentration and her knees started to bend to the skill of his mouth but hands came up and clamped her legs down, so there was nowhere to go but ecstasy.

She felt the cool blowing of his breath and then the warm suction of his mouth and then another soft blow that did nothing to put the fire out. In fact, her hips were lifting, but his mouth would not allow them to.