LITMIR.BIZ

       One

      “Just shout if it’s a bad time to drop in.”

      The instant the words left her mouth, Bailey Ross watched the man she had addressed—the man she knew must be Doctor Mateo Celeca—brace his wide shoulders and spin around on his Italian, leather-clad feet. Brow furrowed, he cocked his head and studied her eyes so intently the awareness made Bailey’s cheeks warm and knees go a little weak. Mama Celeca had said her obstetrician grandson was handsome, but from memory the expression “super stud” was never discussed.

      When Bailey had arrived at this exclusive Sydney address moments ago, she’d hitched her battered knapsack higher as she’d studied first the luggage, set neatly by that door, then the broad back of a masculine frame standing alongside. Busy checking his high-tech security system, Mateo Celeca had no idea he’d had company. Bailey wasn’t normally one to show up unannounced, but today was an exception.

      Remembering manners, Mateo’s bemused expression eased into a smile … genial but also guarded.

      “Forgive me,” he said in a deep voice that hinted at his Mediterranean ancestry. “Do we know each other?”

      “Not really, no. But your grandmother should have rung. I’m Bailey Ross.” She drove down a breath and thrust out her hand. But when Dr. Celeca only narrowed his gaze, as if suspecting her of some offense, Bailey’s smile dropped. “Mama Celeca did phone … didn’t she?”

      “I received no phone call.” Sterner this time, that frown returned and his informal stance squared. “Is Mama all right?”

      “She’s great.”

      “As thin as ever?”

      “I wouldn’t say thin. After enjoying so much of her Pandoro, I’m not so thin anymore, either.”

      At her grin, Mateo’s cagey expression lightened. A stranger lands on your elite North Shore doorstep with a half-baked story, looking a mess after fifteen hours in the air, who wouldn’t dig a little deeper? But anyone who knew Mama Celeca knew her delicious creamy layer-cake.

      Looking like a sentinel guarding his palace, Mateo patiently folded his arms over the white button-down shirt shielding his impressive chest. Bailey cleared her throat and explained.

      “This past year I’ve backpacked around Europe. I spent the last months in Italy in Mama Celeca’s town. We became close.”

      “She’s a wonderful woman.”

      “She’s very generous,” Bailey murmured, remembering Mama’s final charitable act. She’d as good as saved Bailey’s life. Bailey would never be able to repay her, although she was determined to try.

      When a shadow dimmed the light in the doctor’s intelligent dark eyes, fearing she’d said too much, Bailey hurried on.

      “She made me promise that when I arrived back in Australia, first thing, I’d drop by and say hello.” She stole another glance at his luggage. “Like I said … not a good time.”

      No use delaying her own day, either. Now that she was home, she needed to decide what her next step in life would be. An hour ago she’d suffered a setback. Vicky Jackson, the friend she’d hoped to stay with for a couple of days, was out of town. Now she couldn’t go forward without first finding a place to sleep—and finding a way to pay for it.

      Mateo Celeca was still studying her. A pulse in his strong jaw began to beat before his focus lowered to his luggage.

      Bailey straightened. Time to go.

      Before she could take her leave, however, the doctor interjected. “I’m going overseas myself.”

      “To Italy?”

      “Among other

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