Tempted by Her Italian Surgeon

The doctor everyone's talking about!

When a deliciously naughty photo of pediatric transplant surgeon Matteo Finelli goes viral, social media expert Ivy Leigh is called in to discipline him. It will be a challenge…especially as Ivy is far from immune to Matteo's charismatic charm herself!

Dedicated doc Matteo doesn't care about social media policy—he's far more interested in uncovering the warm, vulnerable heart Ivy hides beneath her suit jacket. The chemistry between them is sizzling, but can he persuade ever-cautious Ivy to take a risk and give in to an irresistible temptation?

Ivy could tell by the crinkles at his temples that he was smiling—but what kind of a smile it was, she didn't know.

She didn't want to. Just one look at those eyes made her gut contract in a sizzling, heat-filled twist. She wondered what it would be like to wake up to those eyes, that skin…or what would have happened in that lift yesterday if she hadn't pulled away.

She was darned glad she
had
pulled away…frustrated, but glad.

But what if she hadn't? Would he have kissed her? And why? Why her when there were so many beautiful women for him to kiss?

My God.
Her mouth dried. She couldn't be thinking like that. She couldn't be imagining what it would be like to have Matteo touch her. To kiss him… Not when someone's life was on the line—although, thank goodness, not in her hands.

Not at all. She wasn't the kind of girl to have flings, and she didn't want anything else. Didn't even want a fling… Unless…

No. Not a fling. Not with Matteo Finelli.

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for picking up Matteo and Ivy's story.

The idea for this book came from a news article I read about a doctor getting into trouble for commenting about a case on social media. The dos and don'ts of stepping into that very public place—the internet—as a professional person intrigued me. What if someone did something silly and inadvertently brought their place of work into the glare of the media? What would the ramifications be? How do medical providers deal with social media platforms? And, best of all, how would a very English uptight hospital lawyer deal with a supersexy, rule-breaking Italian man?

These two professionals with very different approaches to life have no idea what's about to hit them when Ivy summons Matteo to her office for a dressing-down!

Both of them have been hurt before, and neither wants to trust anyone anytime soon—but having to live a little in each other's world opens them up to the potential of letting their guards down and falling in love. And they fight it every step of the way.

Matteo and Ivy were such fun to write about—possibly my favorite characters so far (although I always think that!). But what's not to like about a handsome Italian surgeon and a good old feisty Yorkshire lass? (I'm slightly biased, I know…)

For all my writing news and release dates, visit me at
louisageorge.com
.

Happy reading!

Louisa
x

Louisa George
A lifelong reader of most genres, Louisa George discovered romance novels later than most, but immediately fell in love with the intensity of emotion, the high drama and the family focus of Harlequin® Medical™ Romance.

With a bachelor's degree in communication and a nursing qualification under her belt, writing medical romance seemed a natural progression, and the perfect combination of her two interests. And making things up is a great way to spend the day!

An English ex-pat, Louisa now lives north of Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, two teenage sons and two male cats. Writing romance is her opportunity to covertly inject a hefty dose of pink into her heavily testosterone-dominated household. When she's not writing or researching, Louisa loves to spend time with her family and friends, enjoys traveling and adores great food. She's also hopelessly addicted to Zumba®.

Books by Louisa George

Harlequin Medical Romance™

One Month to Become a Mum

Waking Up With His Runaway Bride

The War Hero's Locked-Away Heart

The Last Doctor She Should Ever Date

How to Resist a Heartbreaker

200 Harley Street: The Shameless Maverick

A Baby on Her Christmas List

Visit the author profile page at
Harlequin.com
for more titles.

Praise for
Louisa George

“
How to Resist a Heartbreaker
keeps you hooked from beginning to end, but make sure you have a tissue handy, for this one will break your heart only to heal it in the end.”

—
HarlequinJunkie

“A moving, uplifting and feel-good romance, this is packed with witty dialogue, intense emotion and sizzling love scenes. Louisa George once again brings an emotional and poignant story of past hurts, dealing with grief and new beginnings, which will keep a reader turning pages with its captivating blend of medical drama, family dynamics and romance.”

—
GoodReads
on
How to Resist a Heartbreaker

“Louisa George is a bright star at Harlequin, and I can highly recommend this book to those who believe romance rocks the world.”

—
GoodReads
on
How to Resist a Heartbreaker

 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

‘W
HAT ON EARTH
…?' Ivy Leigh blinked at the image downloading to her inbox, pixel by tiny pixel.

A…bottom?

A beautiful perfectly formed, tanned, bare bottom. Two toned thighs, a sculpted back…a naked male body, in what looked like a men's locker room. A tagline next to the pert backside read:
Dr Delicious. As perfect as a peach. Go on…take a bite.

She swallowed. And again. Fanned her hot cheeks. She might have imposed a strict dating hiatus but she still had an appreciation of what was fine when she saw it. But why on earth would her work computer be the recipient of such a thing?

Maybe the spam screens on the hospital intranet server weren't up to scratch. Adding a new note to her smartphone to-do list—
Call IT
—she let out a heat-infused sigh that had nothing to
do with sexual frustration and everything to do with this new job. Two weeks in and yet another department she needed to pull into order. Still, she'd been employed here to drag this hospital into the twenty-first century and that was what she was going to do, no matter how many toes she trod on.

Twisting in her chair to hide the offending but not remotely offensive bottom from anyone who might walk past her open office door, she sneaked a closer look at the image, her gaze landing on a pile of what looked like discarded clothes on a bench. No, not clothes as such…

Scrubs
?

Please, no
.

Dark green scrubs bearing the embroidered name of St Carmen's Hospital. She gasped, and whatever vague interest she'd had dissolved into a puddle of professional anxiety…her bordering-on-average day was fast turning bad.

So who? What? Why?
Why me?

She slammed her eyelids shut and refused to look at the accompanying email message.

Okay, big girls' pants.

Opening one eye, she took a deep breath and read.

From Albert Pinkney. St Carmen's Hospital Chairman. His formidable perfectly English pronunciation shone through his words. ‘Miss Leigh,
what in heaven's name is this? Our new marketing campaign? Since when did St Carmen's turn into some sort of smutty cabaret show? This is all over the internet like a rash and is not synonymous with the image we want to present. The benefactors are baying for blood. We are a children's hospital. You're the lawyer—do something. Make it disappear. Fix it.'

Because she was probably the only person who could solve this—when all else failed call in the lawyer to shut it down, or drag some antiquated law out and hit the offender with it.

And, damn it, fix it she would. Although making it disappear would be a little harder. Didn't Pinkney know that once something was out on the net, it was there for ever? Clearly he was another candidate to add to her social media awareness classes.

First, find out who this…specimen belonged to. Now, that was going to be an interesting task. ‘Becca! Becca!'

‘Yes, Miss Leigh?' Her legal assistant arrived in the doorway and flashed her usual over-enthusiastic grin. ‘What can I help you with?'

‘Delicate issue… You've been here a while and have your ear to the ground. You must know pretty much all of the staff by now. Have you any idea who this…might belong to?' Ivy twisted
away and made a
ta-da
motion with her hands towards her computer screen.

‘Oh, my…' Becca fanned her face with the stack of manila folders in her hand. ‘Take a bite? I'm suddenly very hungry.'

Me, too
. ‘That is so not the point. Can you see our logo? Right there. We can't have this sort of thing happening, it's very bad for our reputation.'

‘Not unless we're trying to attract a whole tranche of new nurses… No? Wrong response? Sorry.' Becca gave a little shrug that said she wasn't sorry at all and that, in fact, she was really quite impressed. ‘It's very nice. It is kind of perfect. And it says it belongs to a doctor so we can narrow it down. We could do one of those police line-ups, get the main suspects against the wall and…' She looked back at the picture, her voice breathy and high-pitched. ‘I'm happy to organise that.'

‘Get in line.' But, seriously, how many years at law school? For this? This was what she'd studied so hard for? This was why she'd hibernated away from any kind of social life? Her plan had always been to get into a position where she could safeguard others from what she'd had to endure, to prevent mistakes that cost people their happiness. Not chastise a naked man about impropriety. Still, no one could say her job didn't have variety. ‘I don't want to narrow it down, Becca,
I want it gone. We need to send out a stack of take-down notices, get the PR team onto damage limitation. And whoever put this out there is going to learn what it's like to feel the wrath of Ivy Leigh.'

* * *

It was late. The cadaver transplant he'd just finished on a ten-year-old boy had been difficult and long, but successful, with a good prognosis. He had a planned surgery list lined up for tomorrow and a lot of prep to work up. A ward round. And now this—an urgent summons to a part of the hospital he had not even known existed. Or, for that matter, cared about. The legal team? At six-thirty in the evening? Wouldn't all the pen-pushers have gone home? Matteo Finelli's mood was fading fast. He rapped on the closed door. Didn't wait to hear a response, and walked right in. ‘You wanted to see me?'

‘Yes.' The woman in front of him sat up straight behind an expensive-looking wide mahogany desk that was flanked by two filing cabinets. Beyond that a large window gave a view over the busy central London street. It was sunny out there and he imagined sitting in a small bar or café with the sun on his back as he downed a cold beer. Instead of being in here, doing this.

Apart from a calendar on the desk there was nothing else anywhere in the room. Nothing personalised,
no photos, no pens, stapler…anything. She either had a bad case of OCD or had just moved in. Which would explain why he had not heard of her or seen her around. She ran a hand through short blonde hair that made her look younger than he'd imagined she must be to have achieved such a status and such a large office.