The Greek Doctor's Proposal

by Molly Evans

  “Me neither,” Miklo admitted.

  Jeannine flopped back against her chair. “Now, I find that hard to believe,” she said, disbelief bright in her eyes.

  “It’s an unfortunate truth,” he said, amused at her reaction.

  “You work with a zillion nurses.”

  “Doesn’t mean I kiss any of them.”

  “No, but surely you’ve been out with dozens of them, haven’t you?”

  “At one time, but that was long ago and far away.” He took her hand and held it in his. He needed her touch, her warmth. He hadn’t known he needed to be so close to another human being until now. He’d refused to admit he’d needed it for a long time. But he had once been a man who had laughed and loved deeply. And then his world had come crashing down around him.

  “Miklo? What are you doing?” she asked, a husky tremor in her voice he heard even over the crowd, but she didn’t pull away from his touch.

  “There is something about you that makes me want to touch you, Jeannine. I don’t know why, but touching you is a very pleasant experience.”

  “Until you see me naked,” she said, and scoffed.

  Miklo roared with laughter. “What makes you say that? I’ve seen plenty of naked women and haven’t fainted yet.”

  She glanced down at their entwined hands. “My hands are about the only thing on me that’s pleasing.”

  “Now it’s my turn to say I find that hard to believe. You’re a lovely woman, Jeannine. I’m sure every part of you is equally as lovely.”

  Adjusting her position, she couldn’t hold his gaze for long and looked away. “I’m not terribly comfortable telling you this, but we’ll be working together, so I’m sure you’ll find out sooner or later.” She drew in a deep breath. “My recent illness was a tubal pregnancy that almost killed me. That’s why I have the trach scar. I was ventilated for a few months. My abdomen and chest are covered in scars from multiple surgeries, so are my arms. That’s why you would run away screaming if you saw me naked.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It doesn’t have to interfere in our working relationship and won’t affect my work performance.”

  “I’m not worried about that at all, Jeannine.” He moved one hand and brushed her hair back off of her shoulder. Her hair felt like silk. “But you seem quite bothered by the scars.”

  “My fiancé left me because of them and the whole situation.”

  “Then he was an idiot.” Dark anger simmered inside him. No one should be abandoned for such a reason.

  Jeannine’s wide eyes clung to his. “No. He’s really a brilliant scientist.”

  “But a very dumb man,” Miklo said. “If it will make you less self-conscious of the scars, I can take a look at them and see if there can be anything done surgically to decrease their appearance.”

  “Then you’d really have to see me naked,” Jeannine said with a sad smile, and dropped her face into her hand.

  “You only have to show me one scar at a time.” Putting her at ease was not going to be easy to do. But he had to try. Her scars likely went deeper than the surface, and she was telling him only part of her story. But if she wanted to tell him the rest, she would.

  Pulling one sleeve up, she revealed a deep scar on her wrist about the size of a pea. “They’re all kind of like this,” she said.

  In the semi-darkness of the restaurant, he couldn’t get a really good look at the scar, but he rubbed his thumb over it, learning its shape and texture. “This is from an A-line, isn’t it?” he asked, knowing that the monitoring device was inserted into the radial artery of the wrist. Long-term use created a divot in the skin that would never go away completely. “There are things that can be done to make the appearance less pronounced.” Resisting the urge to lean over and kiss her wrist was difficult, but he managed to control himself.

  “Here you go,” Seferino said, interrupting the spontaneous examination. He set a steaming-hot plate of food on the counter between them. “Eat up!” Jeannine leaned back, and Miklo pulled away from her.

  “We can’t eat all that,” she said, aghast at the amount of exotic-looking food on the plate. Foods she had never seen the like of before. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  Napkins were piled up beside the dish, but no utensils. “It’s all finger foods, don’t worry. This is spanikopita, this is dolmeh,” Miklo said, and pointed out the different items and picked up one with his hand. “Stuffed grape leaves,” he said, and took a bite. He stifled a groan and motioned for her to try it.

  “What’s it stuffed with?” she asked, and cautiously reached for one.

  “Lamb, rice, spices, and I don’t know what else, but it’s great.” He took another bite. “And he makes the best taquitos, too.”

  Jeannine took a small bite of the dolmeh, her mouth coming alive at the mixture of exotic tastes in her mouth. It was tangy and wonderful and made her mouth water for more. “You’re right. This is fabulous.”

  “See? Didn’t I tell you? Now aren’t you sorry that you’ve never tried Greek food?”

  “I am,” she said, and reached for another morsel. “You may never get me out of here.”

  They had been at the restaurant long enough that the crowd had started to thin, the dancers had finished, and the volume of music had been turned down. Conversation between them was easier now.

  “Jeannine, I have to say you did great today. Thank you for agreeing to help out. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t showed up when you did.”

  “If it hadn’t been me, someone else would have helped out. I didn’t do anything special.”

  “You heard Arlene. No one else was willing to go.” He shook his head. “I’m rather disturbed by that. No one wants to go, sure, but when there’s a crisis we all need to pull together and help out.” The intensity of his eyes made her pause. “You shouldn’t have had to go today, but I’m very glad you did.”

  “Things work out the way they are supposed to sometimes.” As she said it, she thought of her ex-fiancé. Perhaps they hadn’t been as well suited as she had once thought, and the end of their relationship had been the way things were supposed to be. Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for a long-term relationship, family, or children.

  “Some nurses don’t do well outside their special area, but you did fine.”

  A blush stole over her face and neck, coloring her pale skin. “I was kind of afraid at first, but after a while it didn’t seem so intimidating. Your attitude helped a lot to keep me calm.”

  “You didn’t appear intimidated at all, even though you were out of your element in the OR and PACU. You did a great job with Roberto.”

  “Thanks,” she said, and met his gaze with a shy smile. The effect of her blue-green gaze on him was instantaneous. His body flared, suppressed desire flashed to life within him. Something electric passed between them. Something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Something more than loyalty or honor, with a hint of a passion that lingered beneath the surface. Something that intrigued him. Something that he wanted to explore.

  Was it just shared camaraderie, shared concern for a traumatized little boy, or was there something else going on? “You have the most amazing eyes,” he said, and felt suddenly foolish for speaking aloud. Those eyes turned up at the outer edges, and Miklo had the sudden urge to hold this woman against him. In the midst of a crowd, in a totally inappropriate way, but he ruthlessly checked that urge. It would only lead to disaster for both of them. That was something that neither one needed. His life was not about pursuing a co-worker or getting romantic in any way. Jeannine deserved someone who could give her everything a man was supposed to give a woman. He’d already failed a woman once. He didn’t want to fail another, especially after what Jeannine had been through with her fiancé. She didn’t need that.

  Looking away from him, Jeannine drank from her beer. “So, tell me. You are fluent in Spanish. Are you fluent in Greek as well?”

  “Yes. I also speak Italian and a b
it of Portuguese.” The change of subject was a relief. Neutral topics were safest for both of them.

  “Wow, I’m so jealous. My Spanish is limited primarily to donde está la margarita?”

  Miklo nodded. “It’s a good phrase to remember, though.” Then he frowned. “You spoke a little in Spanish today, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but my Spanish is basic at best. I took a class in medical Spanish once, but don’t remember much.”

  “If you like, I can give you a few key phrases that would be helpful.”

  “Oh, that would be great. I should dig out my notebooks from that class and brush up again. I meant to do that while I was on leave, but never was able to get around to it.” Was she going to do that just to impress Miklo or was she really doing it to help her patients? Sitting here with Miklo, she didn’t really know. But in either case her patients would only benefit.

  This atmosphere, the food and music, were so foreign to her, yet she began to relax more than she had in months. She’d been raised in a very conservative home and taught that to eat with the hands was improper. But right here, right now, seated close beside Miklo, it seemed perfect. He seemed right at home, and she was determined to step out of her comfort zone, even if it was just with a simple plate of food. Remaining in her comfort zone had become a way of life and not one that necessarily enhanced it. Now, in the span of one shift at work, her ideas of comfort had been changed.

  Just as she was about to reach for another bite, Miklo’s cellphone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. In a broken conversation all she could glean was that there was trouble at the hospital. He snapped the phone shut and grabbed her arm. “Let’s go. Roberto’s in trouble.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  IN WHAT seemed like seconds, they were out of there, racing the few short blocks to the hospital. “Did they say what was wrong?” Jeannine asked, trying not to think of the worst-case scenario.

  “Respiratory distress. He’s fighting the tube, and the nurse is afraid to sedate him much more than she already has without me being there. We need to see what’s going on.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I knew I shouldn’t have left. If something happens, I’ll never forgive myself.” Add that to the list of things he was guilty of.

  Jeannine didn’t like the sound of that statement or the grim set of his jaw. “You need a break sometime, Miklo. That’s reasonable. You said your father found a balance between work and life—can’t you do the same? Surely there’s an intensivist in the ICU at all times, isn’t there?”

  “It’s Friday night. You know what it’s like. There’s no one who is as experienced as I am with this sort of facial trauma.” Mouth compressed into a tight line, Miklo hurried them into the hospital.

  A crowd had gathered around the bed where Roberto lay, his eyes wide and panicked, his arms and legs thrashing with every breath he took. “Everybody, back. Give the kid some room,” Miklo said, and then spoke softly in Spanish to Roberto.

  Jeannine heard the strain in his voice, knowing he needed to take command of the situation without panicking Roberto in the process. Approaching Miklo from behind, she whispered, “What kind of sedation do you want me to get?”

  “Come round to the other side of the bed. I want him to hear your voice first. Let him know you’re here. That will probably calm him more than anything else,” Miklo said, and Jeannine did as he instructed. “It’s more important for you to be at his side right now.”

  He turned around to the PICU nurse assigned to Roberto and gave her orders for sedation.

  “Will you translate for me?” she asked as she looked down at Roberto.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Jeannine took a breath and looked at Miklo. Faced with helping a child or saving her own pride, she knew she had no choice. What she was about to say could put her in a very awkward situation with Miklo, having him know more about her past than she was comfortable with. None of her coworkers knew what she was about to reveal.

  “Roberto, you must not fight it,” Jeannine said, and Miklo began the translation, his voice soft as he turned her words into what Roberto could understand. “It’s not going to hurt you. The tube is to help you breathe better, and if you fight it, it won’t work right. I had one once, and I know it feels bad, but try to close your eyes and not think of it. Think of the new little car we brought you.” She produced the blue car from beneath his pillow where she had stowed it earlier. “The feelings in your throat will go away, and in a few days you’ll be able to talk again. I know it chokes right now. It choked me, too, but it’s only for a little while. Try to relax, and let the machine breathe for you. Don’t fight. Don’t fight it.” She gave him a smile. “Just relax. Just relax.”

  Miklo watched her as she spoke from her heart. She stroked Roberto’s head and kept her voice calm. Roberto’s heart had been racing, but now the monitor showed it was slowing to a more normal level. The ventilator that had been struggling to keep up with Roberto’s erratic breathing no longer alarmed. Roberto’s eyes were wide open and intently focused on Jeannine’s face.

  “He’s listening to you. Keep talking,” Miklo urged.

  Jeannine gave a smile and nodded. “You’re doing great. Pretty soon all of this is going to go away, and you’ll be back to playing again. Pretty soon nothing will keep you from having fun. This is just for a little while so that your stitches can heal,” Jeannine looked at the other nurse. “Has his father been in?”

  “No. He’s still with his wife. She’s critical. But there are other family members in the waiting room. Can we get one of them to come sit with him?”

  Jeannine focused on Miklo. “Can we get his dad over here to visit for a little while? Roberto needs to know his family is out there. He needs to know someone he loves is nearby.”

  “Sure. If his family is anything like mine, there are fifty people out in the waiting room and they aren’t going anywhere. Maybe one of them can stay with Roberto’s mother for a while.”

  “I have the sedation, Doctor,” the other nurse said, pausing at the end of the bed. “Are you still going to want it?”

  “Yes. The crisis is over for the moment, but in order to avert another one, I think it’s best to keep him under. I’ll write up a more liberal regimen in a few minutes. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

  “The nurse is going to give you some medicine to make you relax some more,” Jeannine said. “It’s going to feel like butterflies are all around you, and when you wake up, you’ll feel better again.” She took a deep breath, remembering the butterflies that she had experienced when she had been a patient in the ICU. “Do you have pain?” she asked. Roberto frowned and tears overflowed his expressive brown eyes.

  “Miklo, can you add some extra pain medicine and throat spray to that cocktail? When I was intubated, it was the worst feeling of my life,” she said, and swallowed roughly and touched her neck again.

  “Absolutely.” He again translated the information to Roberto and added to the orders for the ICU nurse.

  As soon as the nurse administered the medication, Roberto’s eyelids started to droop. Jeannine held his slack hand in hers for a few more minutes. “He’s exhausted, poor guy.”

  “It’s been a long day for us all,” Miklo said with a sigh.

  “I’m sure you’re more exhausted than anyone else. You’re not on call tonight, too, are you?” she asked, hoping he would get to go home.

  Though his days ended, his nights seemed to go on forever. “No, but I’ll probably just crash in one of the on-call rooms in case he has trouble again.” Sleeping in the call room wasn’t ideal and brought back too many memories of the night his family had died. He’d been on call then, and had been powerless to save his wife and child. “Come on. You’ve done enough for today. Why don’t I walk you out to your car?”

  Jeannine took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over her face. “I think I’m ready to call it a day.” She sighed and placed Roberto’s hand by his side with the little car against his palm.

&n
bsp; “I’ll be back in a little while,” Miklo said to the ICU nurse. “We need to avoid another event like that one.”

  “Yes, Dr. Kyriakides,” she said, and turned back to the monitor.

  “What do you think caused his trouble? Just anxiety?” she asked as they made their way to the back of the hospital and out to the parking lot.

  “Yes. As you say, the tube is quite uncomfortable, though I don’t have the same familiarity with it that you do.” He followed her to a small red car.

  “How long do you think he has to have the tube in?” she asked as she opened the door to the car and stowed her belongings on the passenger seat.

  “Another day, possibly two.” He shrugged, and then he looked at her, giving up on subtlety. “You’ve been through a difficult time, haven’t you?” He wanted to reach out and push the hair back from her face, but he resisted the temptation. If he touched her again, he wasn’t sure he’d want to stop.

  “Yes,” she whispered, and tried to hold at bay the boiling emotions inside her. “Talking to Roberto has brought back a lot of things I’d rather have forgotten about. But if I can put my feelings aside and help someone else, then I’m happy.”

  “That can’t be all you want out of life, is it?” he asked. “There has to be more to you than your work.”

  “I could turn that question back to you, Doctor.”

  “Touché. It’s none of my business. But the way you care about people and the passion you put into your work is really very inspiring.” Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something he desperately needed in his own life, but didn’t know how to find it. Something he never expected to want again. Until now. This was a day full of surprises all round.

  The sadness returned to her eyes, and he didn’t like the dark circles under them, but knew they were well earned today.

  “Well, goodnight, Miklo,” she said, and curved a hand behind her ear, pushing her hair back. “It’s been a very interesting day.”