Even in a city that regularly sweltered each summer, the temperatures were extreme. But this was spring and totally ironic when the other side of the world battled the looming threat of a horrible new strain of influenza and unseasonal snow was causing general havoc.
In this weather, Nat actually looked forward to stepping through the doors of St Auburn’s and being enveloped in a cool blast of air. Anywhere was better than her hot little box the estate agent euphemistically called a townhouse, in a breezeless suburb blistering beneath the sun’s relentless rays. Not that it would matter soon, seeing that it looked like she was going to be evicted by the end of the month.
Nat stepped into the crowded lift on the eighth floor, pondering this conundrum yet again. She’d just transferredanother heat-stroke victim to the medical ward and was returning to the department. She squeezed in and, noting the ground-floor button had already been pushed, let her mind wander to the phone call she was expecting from the agent any time now. She would find out today whether she could get an extension on her lease.
It wasn’t until the lift emptied out over the next few floors and she had some more room to move that she was even aware of her fellow travellers. Two more people got out at the fourth floor and she was suddenly conscious of there being only one other person left. Big and looming behind her. A strange sixth sense, or possibly foreboding, settled around her and she glanced quickly over her shoulder.
Alessandro Lombardi.Shit.
She had only seen him very briefly and at a distance in the couple of weeks since she’d basically accused him of being a terrible father. He was wearing a pale lemon shirt and a classy orange tie. A stethoscope was slung casually around his neck.
In short, he was looking damn fine and her hormones roared to life despite the lift of one dark, sardonic eyebrow.
Nat turned back to the panel, pressing ‘G’ several times as the door slowly shut. Her heart beat double time as he moved forward in the lift, to stand next to her, ready for his exit she presumed. ‘Good afternoon, Nat.’
She took a steadying breath. ‘Dr Lombardi.’ Refusing to turn and face him, Nat jabbed at the ‘G’ several more times – why was this lift so damn slow?
‘Be careful. You’ll break it.’
She could detect a faint trace of amusement in his voice but today, with the heat and the eviction hanging over her head, she really wasn’t in the mood. She hit it one more time for good measure, which was when the lift came to a grinding halt, causing her to stumble against him.
She heard him mutter ‘Porca vacca’ as they were jostled together by the abrupt cessation of movement and she supposed, absently, a profanity was better than anI told you so.
His hand cupped her elbow as if to steady her, which was when the lights flickered out.Of course. His long fingers were warm on her arm and, for a crazy second, she leaned into him, her pulse skipping madly in her chest as her body tried to figure out what was the bigger problem.
Being stuck in a lift. Or being stuck in a lift with Alessandro Lombardi.
3
The emergency lighting flicked on just as Nat said, ‘You know’ – she removed her elbow out of his grasp, super conscious of their closeness – ‘when they teach you a foreign language it’s always the swear words you learn first?’
He chuckled. ‘Guilty.’
Coming from a man who had thus far looked incapable of anything remotely joyous, his low laughter took Nat by surprise. And yet, it enveloped her in the close confines, making her feel curiously safe. Their gazes met for a moment and held for a beat until he took a step back.
Halle-freaking-lujah.
‘I’ll call and see what’s happened,’ he announced as his hand reached for the phone behind the metallic panel beneath the buttons.
Nat nodded absently, also backing up, pleased to feel the solidness of the wall behind her. For a moment there, maybe it had been the half-light, his eyes had darkened even further and she swore she’d seen the flare of desire sparking in their black depth. Suddenly the air was heavy, cloying, oppressive, and she took some calming breaths.
She wasn’t the hysterical type and now was not the time to become one.
Listening absently to Alessandro’s conversation with whoever it was on the other end of the line it became apparent they weren’t getting out any time soon.
‘There’s a problem with the city grid,’ he said as he hung up the phone and turned to face her. ‘Something to do with the heatwave. The emergency power has kicked in but two lifts have failed to start. They’re working on it.’
Nat licked her lips, the thought of spending time with him in a confined space rather unsettling. Did he also feel the buzz between them or was it all one-sided? Had she imagined that spark in his eyes? ‘Do they have any idea how long it might take?’
‘No.’
‘Porca vacca,’ she muttered, figuring Alessandro’s instinctive expletive was as good as any. In either language.
He chuckled again, and again she was taken aback at the rich earthy delight of it washing over her body as warm as the air inside the lift. ‘You’re not claustrophobic, I hope?’
Nat shook her head. ‘No. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed if you’re waiting for me to turn into a hysterical female.’
‘Good.’
