Seduced By the Italian Surgeon (Hot Italian Surgeons #2)

Chapter 1

Peyton Donald could feel Valentino Lombardi’s gaze on her from across the altar. Not even the beauty of the ceremony or the happiness in her heart for her friend, Natalie, could distract her from the intensity of the groom’s cousin’s interest.

It caressed every inch of her body, making her even more self-conscious about what she was wearing.

The bridesmaid’s dress clung to non-existent curves. The hem grazed her knee and she suppressed the urge to yank it lower. This wasn’t her. This clingy, femme fatale dress with a halter neck and a low back.

Very. Low. Back.

It made a bra impossible. Not that Peyton’s A cup needed one.

The crimson creation didn’t say ‘busy single working mother with a high-needs child who hasn’t slept an entire night through in three years’.

It said Sexy. Flirty. Time for pleasure. It said the playground is open, come on in. And Valentino Lombardi, possibly the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on, probably the sexist man in existence, looked like he wanted to be first to ride.

But she didn’t have time. Not for flirting. Or riding. Or pleasure. Or any of those trivialities. And especially not for a man who looked like he held a PhD in trivia. There were never enough hours in the day as it was.

There was just never enough time.

She had a sudden hankering for her faded grey trackpants and her favourite oversized T-shirt back in her wardrobe in suburban Brisbane. Or better still, her baggy blue scrubs. She didn’t like being this… on display. She felt awkward.

The heat from Valentino’s gaze radiated towards her and she slid him a mutinous back-off-buddy glance. It was one she’d perfected since Arnie had walked out on her and it usually stopped a man dead in his tracks. But Valentino just grinned and gave her a saucy wink.

Thank God he lived a long way away. London, Nat had informed her when she was spilling all the tea on Peyton’s wedding partner. He’d lived there for a decade although apparently, he jetted between there and Rome for work.

And pleasure. Because of course, he was some kind of Italian playboy as well.

‘Can I have the rings, please?’

Peyton could have kissed the priest as Alessandro’s best man was given a job to do other than indiscriminate ogling.

Unfortunately, though, his actions commanded the attention of the entire female population of the church, including her, and Peyton found herself drinking in the way his exquisite suit pulled across broad shoulders and how the fine wool of his trousers outlined powerful quads and one very fine ass.

Very, very fine.

He glanced at her as he stepped back into his place and his deep, dark eyes told her he knew exactly where hers had been. A smile touched his lips, beautiful lips that could have been carved by one of the masters. Except they were warm and vital.

Desirable. Kissable.

There was a frankness in his gaze that stopped the breath in her lungs. She searched for something more, beyond the promise of tonight. Something deeper. A connection. Something that told her he was interested in more than getting her between his sheets. But all she found was heat and sex and lust.

Totally superficial. Like the man. Another flashy male. All sparkle, no substance. And if she’d been a different woman who hadn’t already been royally screwed over by flash and sparkle, it could have been fun. But she had been.

So, Valentino Lombardi could keep his bedroom eyes to damned self.

Peyton hit the send button and placed her mobile on the table, drumming her fingers.

Her gaze returned, yet again, to Valentino as he worked the room.

She tried to ignore him and her steadily growing irritation as women almost swooned at his feet, but the rich sound of his easy, frequent laughter made it impossible.

It reached out from across the room as potent as a physical caress, drawing her attention like a moth to flame.

Valentino Lombardi was not a man you could ignore. With his killer dimples, boyishly curly hair and European charm, he was pure vice.

Peyton’s phone vibrated and she reached for it, her pulse spiking. But it was just her mother checking in as requested.

McKenzie fine. Sleeping well.

Peyton’s fingers flew over the keypad.

Apnoea mat on?

She sent the text into the ether just as Valentino threw his head back, setting a deep belly laugh free, exposing a bronzed length of throat peppered with dark stubble.

Another vibration snagged her attention.

Yes. Go and dance for crying out loud!

Peyton smiled despite the gnawing, ever-present worry. She could almost hear her mum saying the words. But she’d never had a night away from her daughter. Frankly she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Don’t think I’ll stay the night. If I leave after cake, can be home by midnight.

Peyton tapped the green arrow and checked her watch, doing a quick calculation in her head. Yep. She could definitely make it home by then.

‘Everything okay?’

Peyton glanced up into the bride’s face.

Nat had fresh bluebells threaded into her blonde locks, which brought out the colour of her eyes and matched the crystal beading decorating the neckline of her ivory gown.

Alessandro’s hand rested possessively on her shoulder and Peyton felt a sudden yearning she couldn’t explain.

Why? She’d been where they were. Had the divorce to prove it. She certainly had no desire to do it again.

She smiled at her friend. ‘Just telling Mum I might not stay the night.’

‘Peyton? No.’ Nat grabbed her hand. ‘Your parents have booked and paid for it. Including breakfast. Your mother would skin me alive if I let you leave.’ Nat squeezed Peyton’s hand. ‘It’s just one night. Don’t you think it’s time you enjoyed a well-deserved break?’

Peyton shied away from the earnestness of her friend’s expression. Everyone said that to her – You need a break, Peyton. But she was a mother first and foremost and McKenzie’s needs would always be more important. That’s just the way it was.

Nat would understand one day too.

The phone vibrated and Peyton grabbed it, relieved to break eye contact with the bride. She opened the message and read it three times, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. She held it up to Nat.

Don’t. You. Dare.

Nat grinned. ‘Have I mentioned how much I like your mother?’

Peyton rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, okay. I’ll stay.’

‘Good.’ Nat squeezed her hand. ‘The speeches are about to start.’

Another deep laugh floated towards them and they all looked across at Valentino, who was chatting with some nurses from their work. ‘You should take a page out of Val’s book,’ Nat said. ‘He’s certainly having a good time.’

Peyton eyed the man in question. ‘Isn’t he just,’ she said dryly.

‘I tell you.’ Nat sighed. ‘If I wasn’t utterly besotted with Alessandro’ – she smiled at her beloved, who was currently talking to a distant relative – ‘and was up for a fling, I’d be over there too.’

‘Mmm,’ Peyton murmured noncommittally. Like she had time for a fling.

‘Do you know he used to date Adrianna de Luca?’

Peyton gave her friend a mystified look. ‘Who?’

Nat rolled her eyes. ‘One of Italy’s top catwalk models.’

Of course he did. ‘Fancy that.’

‘They were in all the magazines last year.’

Peyton hadn’t read a magazine in forever. Or a book. A paragraph or two here and there of whatever self-help book she’d downloaded on her e-reader were about her limit. ‘Of course they were.’ Her voice dripped with derision.

Nat regarded her friend seriously. ‘Not all men are like Arnie, Peyton.’ Valentino laughed again and Nat poked her elbow into Peyton’s ribs. ‘Come on, you have to admit, he’s a bit of a spunk.’

‘I hope you’re talking about me, il mio tesoro,’ Alessandro interrupted, nuzzling his new wife’s neck.

‘But of course.’ Nat smiled, turning to Alessandro, her lips poised to meet his as he lowered his head.

Peyton felt a tug at her dress and was grateful for any reason to avoid the blissful clinch going on beside her chair. She looked down to see Juliano, Alessandro’s four-year-old son. ‘Where’s McKenzie?’

Peyton smiled at the boy. ‘Juliano, you look magnificent!’ He was dressed in a mini-tux and was the spitting image of his father.

With the boyishness and dimples of his father’s cousin.

Juliano stood a little higher. ‘Nat says I’m handsome.’

‘Nat is 100 per cent right.’

Juliano beamed. ‘Is McKenzie sick?’

Peyton shook her head, saddened that it was such a natural conclusion for Juliano to reach. ‘No. She’s at home with her grandparents.’

Juliano’s face fell. ‘I wanted to ask her to dance.’

Peyton’s heart just about melted and she pulled Juliano in for a big hug. ‘You are so sweet. I see you have your father’s charm.’ She glanced at Alessandro, who winked at her. ‘Another time, huh?’

Nat had wanted McKenzie to be her flower girl but Peyton had declined. The truth was, crowds made Peyton nervous for her daughter. As an ex-prem with chronic lung disease and poor immunity, every single person was a potential source of infection, a silver bullet to McKenzie’s weak defences.

It just wasn’t worth the risk.

‘Okay.’ Juliano nodded, squirming out of her embrace. ‘See ya,’ he chirped, and ducked away, heading for the dance floor.

Peyton watched him, smiling even though her heart ached. What would she give for her daughter to be so able-bodied, so carefree? She returned her attention to her phone and replied to her mother’s text.

Promise you’ll ring if there’s a problem.

It took five seconds for the reply.

I promise.

Peyton texted back.

Anything at all. No matter how trivial.

Sending the message, she waited for the reply, tension tightening her stomach muscles.

She knew people thought she was too uptight about her daughter but what did they know?

It was she who lived every day with the reality of McKenzie’s fragile health, not them, and one thing was for certain – being vigilant had kept McKenzie alive.