The Greek Doctor's Proposal

by Molly Evans

  “My car is at the hospital, so you can drop me off there.”

  “Right,” he said, his thoughts skipping ahead. “It’s been such a strange day, I’d forgotten that I kidnapped you from the hospital just this morning.” Weird, how time had a way of stopping at the most unexpected of times.

  “Will you call me if there’s any change in his condition?” she asked as they walked back to his car at the museum.

  “I will.” He pulled out his phone again. “Give me your number,” he said, and entered it right into the phone as she recited it for him. “I’m sure he’s going to be fine. Might have a few bumps in the road, but he’s a really strong and healthy kid.”

  “He just looks so fragile covered in bandages.”

  “I know. They all do.”

  After checking in with the intensivist on duty, Miklo drove to his house. The Spanish Mediterranean style house had been a place he had once loved, bringing a sense of the ocean into the desert. Once filled with laughter and joy when it had held the promise of a family, now it was just a really big place in which to sleep and eat.

  A hot shower and an omelet satisfied some of his baser needs, but a lingering restlessness prevented him from settling down for the night. Sitting home on a Saturday night wasn’t his idea of a good time, but it had somehow become his norm. Weekends were for family. Since he was no longer a husband and almost a father, weekends had become torturous for him. His three brothers tried to include him, but there were times he couldn’t face the love and understanding of his family. No one blamed him for not being there when Darlene had been killed. The Greek culture seemed to have a built-in understanding of tragedy.

  The phone rang, pulling him from his maudlin thoughts.

  “Hello?”

  Rapid Spanish flowed into his ear, instantly setting him on alert. After a short, tense conversation, he knew he had to go. His help was urgently needed. When his friends called, no matter what the problem, he did what he could to help them. They would do the same for him if he needed it. The loyalty of his friends and family meant everything to him.

  After a second’s hesitation, he rang Jeannine.

  “Hello?”

  “Jeannine, it’s Miklo. I need your help. Are you willing to stretch your nursing boundaries once more after such a short time?” He clutched the phone tightly. Did he have any right to ask such a thing of her? Though he knew an abundance of medical people, Jeannine was the first one he thought of for this situation.

  “What’s wrong? Is it Roberto again?” Concern emanated from her voice.

  “No. A friend called from Las Cruces. He runs a small hospital down by the Mexican border, and he’s got a kid in serious trouble. Major trauma.”

  “I’m assuming if he’s calling you to come there, the patient is too fragile to transport?”

  “Yes. We can be there in an hour by plane.” Again, he hesitated. Was he just being selfish to want her with him, or was she truly the right person for the job? If she declined, he would know he’d been wrong to ask. Why he wanted her with him remained a mystery to him. Perhaps spending time with her would clear that away.

  “Plane?” she squeaked. “As in the small plane you mentioned earlier today?”

  “Yes. I promise you’ll be perfectly safe in it. I’m a licensed pilot and have flown safely for years.” The plane that he now owned had once been his saving grace.

  “I’ll come. What do I need to do?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  After a slight pause the sound of her voice in his ear made him more resolved than ever to keep that promise. “Pack a bag for a couple of days. We’ll likely be back tomorrow evening, but just in case we aren’t, bring a few things. Can you be ready in forty-five minutes?”

  “Yes.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  JEANNINE tried not to put too many claw marks in the control panel of Miklo’s plane. Hyperventilating wasn’t a very good idea, but she seemed incapable of breathing at a normal rate. “Try cupping your hands around your mouth and slow your breathing.” Miklo’s voice crackled through the headset into her ears. “Otherwise you’re going to vomit.”

  “Oh, great. Yet another way to humiliate myself in front of you.” Taking his advice, Jeannine cupped her hands around her mouth and forced her breathing to slow. “You really know how to show a girl a good time, Miklo.”

  “We’re almost there. If you can hang on for twenty minutes, we’ll be through the roughest part.” He glanced at her. “I’m sorry. The weather doesn’t always cooperate.”

  “Welcome to life in New Mexico, right?” Nodding, Jeannine managed to swallow down her nerves. “Talk to me,” she said as her stomach pitched with the rough movement of the plane. “Distract me somehow. When did you start flying?”

  Miklo paused for a second, then began to speak. “I learned to fly about ten years ago. Driving places just took too long for me, and I needed the peace that flying alone gave me.”

  The sound of his voice soothed her nerves, calmed her fears, and she could breathe again. “Does flying help with job stress?”

  “Somewhat. No pagers. No cellphones. Nothing except me and the wind.” He paused a moment and gave a deep sigh. “After Darlene was killed I flew a lot. Just being up here helped keep me away from everything that waited for me down there.”

  Jeannine spoke into the headset. “Go on.”

  “It wasn’t like I wasn’t dealing with the pain. But once in a while I just needed a break from it.” The breaks had helped. Helped him realize that although he hadn’t loved his wife as deeply as he had wanted, he had loved their life together and their plans to create a family together. They had been friends for many years and had respected each other. Theirs had been a match based on friendship and loyalty and love of family.

  “Coming from such a large family, I’m sure they’ve been a comfort to you.”

  “Yes, but…I feel foolish confessing this to you. But it seems sometimes that they are ready for me to move on, find a new wife, and get busy making babies again.” He sighed. “I know they mean well, but I just can’t take that step yet. Maybe not ever.” The thought of creating a new family wasn’t what scared him. It was the thought of losing them that chilled him.

  “I’m sure they mean well, but that is a difficult situation to think about. When you love someone a great deal, it’s difficult to let them go and live life without them.”

  “Sounds like you’ve have some experience there, too.”

  “Oh, I’ve had my heart broken a few times, but nothing like what you’ve lost.” The loss of a few boyfriends over the years was nothing compared to what he’d gone through. “Terrence, my ex-fiancé, hurt me the worst, but now I’m realizing that he wasn’t right for me.” So not right, it wasn’t funny. How had she not realized that sooner? Had she just been so lonely and starved for affection that she had accepted anyone?

  “How long had you been together before the pregnancy?” he asked.

  “Two years.” Two very long, very unproductive years.

  “I’m sorry, Jeannine. Truly sorry about the baby.” Yet another shared tragedy between them.

  “Me, too. Who knows? Maybe some day I’ll be able to have a child.” She shrugged and sat upright, then looked at him, the green lights from the control panel eerily illuminated her face. “I wasn’t pregnant for very long before my tube ruptured. Then I was so sick I didn’t really have a chance to think about anything except living through the experience.” She returned to her previous position with her hands cupped around her mouth.

  Moments passed in silence as Miklo concentrated on flying. “It’s a glorious sight, flying into the city at night, isn’t it?”

  “Seeing it would mean I’d have to open my eyes.”

  “That would help,” he said. “If you can keep your eyes on the horizon, your focus won’t change all the time, and your symptoms will settle down.”

  Just as she opened her eyes slightly, the plane hit another air pocket, and she grabbed the control pane
l again. “I think I’ll wait!”

  Miklo chuckled and patted her leg. “We’ll land in a minute and you’ll be fine.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were on the ground, met by an emergency transport crew, and whisked away to the hospital. When they entered the hospital, Miklo pulled out his phone. “We’re here,” he said. After a quick conversation, he hung up. “We’re going straight into the OR,” he said as he escorted her down the hall. His hand on her back offered her some comfort. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Fine.”

  Miklo stopped and turned her to face him, his dark gaze roaming over her face. “Wait a minute. When a woman answers ‘fine’, things usually are far from it.”

  Jeannine gave a small smile, knowing exactly what he meant. “It’s really okay. I’m just anxious about what we’re going to find when we get in there.”

  “Me, too.” They proceeded along the dimly lit corridor toward the back of the hospital. “We’ll do what we can and leave the rest to God.”

  Jeannine entered the women’s locker room to change and returned quickly to the scrub area. She glanced at the clock as she entered the small OR. Midnight. Nearly eighteen hours had passed since she’d woken up that morning. So many things had happened in that short amount of time, so many things about herself had been forever changed.

  And the night wasn’t over yet.

  Sensing his presence before she turned, Jeannine knew Miklo would be there. His calming energy soothed her frazzled nerves, and she huffed out a breath that chased away any lingering distractions. Even though she and Miklo were in a very foreign environment, somehow they were going to get through this together. For the sake of an injured child, they had to.

  “Jeannine, this is my friend, José Martinez. He’s the surgeon who called me.” The men were close in coloring, beautiful, golden Latin skin, dark eyes and the blackest of hair. But Miklo’s features called to her, whereas José looked just like a very attractive man. There was no heightening of her pulse as there was when she looked at Miklo.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” José said in a raspy voice that somehow suited him. “Your assistance means much to me. Not everyone would drop what they were doing to help a stranger.”

  “I’m happy that Miklo invited me to come along.” Jeannine shook his warm hand.

  “Gracias.” The three moved into the OR and the real work began. “The boy was struck by a speeding truck and dragged for half a mile. He has had one surgery to fix his internal injuries, which has been successful. Unfortunately, the injuries to his face are so extensive that I would trust no one except Miklo to operate on him.”

  “Thank you, my friend.” Miklo acknowledged the compliment. “You would do the same for me.”

  The confidence shared between the two friends boosted her flagging esteem and the fatigue that crawled along her skin evaporated. A little trust went a long way, and she trusted Miklo’s skills as a surgeon. More importantly, she was beginning to trust Miklo as she had trusted no man. Every moment she spent with him solidified that trust even more.

  “Ready when you are, Doctors.”

  Five hours later, the surgery ended with Miklo more frustrated than he’d been in years. He was so helpless. So powerless against the devastation of such injuries. Pins, and screws, and more than a few curses were what held the boy’s face together. “I’m afraid that is all we will be able to do for him for now,” José said as he removed his OR attire with a heavy sigh, appearing as affected as Miklo. “I’ll take you to the guest quarters, and you can get some rest. It has been a long day for us all.”

  “There should be more we can do. If he is stable enough we can transfer him to the University Hospital in Albuquerque.” Miklo ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of anything that would change the situation to one he could deal with. “People—children—shouldn’t have to suffer like this,” Miklo said as a knot of anger formed in his jaw.

  “No, they shouldn’t, but they do, and we must accept it,” José said, the look in his eyes sad. “His family is very poor and would not be able to make the trip. First we see how he does before we take him from his home and the people that love him.”

  “You’re right,” Miklo said and nodded, his eyes downcast but his frustration still obvious. “You’re right.” Every part of him that was a healer wanted to argue, wanted to rage at the injustice against an innocent child, but he knew he didn’t have the power to change it. As a surgeon he only had so much control, and he wasn’t deluded enough to think otherwise.

  “When we went into the OR you said we would do what we could,” Jeannine said in a gentle tone, reminding him of his own philosophy. She touched him on the arm, and he faced her, searching for something in her face. Some reason to make all of this effort worth the cost to everyone.

  Reaching out to her, Miklo pulled the hair cover away and let her hair spill over her shoulders. “You’re right, too. There is only so much we can do, the rest is out of our hands. Sometimes I don’t know when to let go.”

  “Let me take you to your quarters,” José said, and led them from the OR. “Your bags should be there already.” The men spoke a few moments in Spanish, and then they arrived at the bungalow, just a hundred yards from the hospital.

  “This is lovely,” Jeannine said, taking in the little cottage with its furnishings in the style of Old Mexico.

  “The refrigerator is full of food, and there is excellent tequila in the cupboard. Help yourselves to whatever you need,” José said, and stifled a yawn. “I will come get you at noon.”

  Jeannine entered the bungalow and stretched, stifling a yawn.

  “Why don’t you have a shower first? I’ll see what’s available for food,” Miklo suggested, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go to sleep right away. Reviewing the operation was one way of deciding whether his efforts had been good enough.

  “Sounds good.” Jeannine found her overnight bag in one bedroom, gathered the necessary items and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Miklo opened the heavy draperies in the living area. The windows faced the city and offered a picturesque view. The pre-dawn light of the very early morning cast a soft peach glow onto the landscape surrounding the desert city. The tension in his shoulders eased a notch as he turned away from the sight to rummage around in the refrigerator. Fresh fruit, tortillas, and a pitcher of citrus juice sat inside. He took the items out and arranged them on the table. He hoped Jeannine liked…When he realized what he was doing, he stopped.

  Fixing a meal, seeing to the comfort of another person, was almost…domestic. Something he hadn’t realized he’d missed. Reaching for the tequila, he added a splash and some ice cubes to the juice for a mild margarita. He didn’t need it to fall asleep, but just a taste would offer him some comfort.

  “This looks fabulous,” Jeannine said as she walked barefoot across the tiled floor.

  She had changed into casual clothing rather than sleeping garments and appeared refreshed after a shower. Her long wet hair was combed back from her face, revealing eyes that sparkled when she looked at him, and his throat tightened.

  She was beautiful.

  Something stirred within him that he hadn’t acknowledged for a long time. Now that his feelings were waking again, he wasn’t sure that this was a good idea, being alone with her in such intimate surroundings. “Tired?”

  “Not a bit. I’m wide awake now. And starved.” She reached for a piece of fruit. “Everything is so beautiful, thank you.”

  Miklo swallowed and stepped back a pace from her. The clean fragrance of a simple soap washed over him, and he shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to her. “My turn. Help yourself.” Not bothering with a razor, he showered, changed, and returned to find Jeannine in a comfortable chair facing the windows and the sunrise. A plate of fruit and a half-full glass of juice sat on the table next to her.

  And she was sound asleep. Looking down at her, he took the chance to examine her without making her uncomforta
ble. She was a beautiful woman. Long limbed, long hair the color of melted caramel, lush breasts that rose and fell with her gentle breathing. All of the physical attributes were certainly there, but it was the sparkle of amusement in her eyes, the tremor of laughter in her voice, and her personal strength that intrigued him more than anything else. Her scars were irrelevant. Exotic women were a dime a dozen in his world. One with a gentle heart was a rare find.

  This rare find was about to slide out of her chair onto the floor. With one arm behind her knees and one behind her shoulders, he picked her up.

  Startled, she clamped her arms around his neck. “What?” she said, her eyes wide, but still filled with sleep.

  “Nothing,” he said as he maneuvered through the cottage. “You fell asleep in your chair.”

  “I did not.”

  Miklo laughed. “Yes, you did. I heard you snoring.”

  Jeannine gasped. “Miklo Kyriakides, I do not snore.” She wiggled her feet. “Put me down before you have a hernia. I’m too big.”

  “You’re not heavy, just tall. Very tall.” They neared the bed, and he released her legs, allowing her to slide against his body.

  That was his first mistake.

  Torturing himself with her hadn’t been his intention, but now he had no intention of letting her go without tasting her lips again.

  “Miklo,” she whispered, and her gaze dropped to his mouth. “I’m not…prepared for anything…between us.” But her rapid breathing that echoed his own told him she was not unaffected by his closeness.

  “Neither am I.” He pushed her damp hair back from her face. “But there’s something going on between us that will need further exploration.” His hand drifted downward to rest on her hip, slowly drawing her against him. That was his second mistake, but one he seemed powerless to resist.