The Greek Children's Doctor

by Morgan, Sara

  He wanted her for himself.

  And Andreas Christakos was used to getting exactly what he wanted.

  ‘One thousand pounds!’ The auctioneer was almost incoherent with delight. ‘Well, none of you tight individuals are going to top that so I’d say Libby’s going, going, gone to the tall, dark stranger with the fat wallet!’

  Ignoring the laughter, Andreas stretched out a lean, strong hand to Libby, his eyes still holding hers.

  Looking slightly stunned, she stepped forward, descended the stage with care and took his hand, chin held high.

  It was only when he caught her from falling at the bottom of the steps that he realised that she’d had too much to drink.

  The blond man who’d bid £10 stepped forward, clearly desperate to speak to her, but she silenced him with an icy glare and Andreas felt her small hand tremble in his.

  He frowned slightly. Why was she shaking?

  In an instinctive male reaction, his hand tightened on hers possessively.

  ‘No amount of money would induce me to have a conversation with you, Philip, let alone a date,’ she said with exaggerated dignity. Having clarified the situation to her satisfaction, she turned to Andreas with a smile that would have illuminated Athens on a dark night. ‘Shall we go?’

  Andreas wondered what could have upset her so much that she’d be willing to leave the bar with a total stranger. She hadn’t even asked his name and she was clinging to his hand as if it were a lifeline.

  A totally inexplicable need to protect her slammed through him and he tightened his grip. ‘Yes, let’s go.’

  He held the door open for her and she walked past him, long-legged and graceful, managing remarkably well on those high heels considering the volume of alcohol she appeared to have consumed. Up close she seemed more fragile than she had on the stage and he was suddenly aware of just how delicate she was compared to him. Her arms and wrists were slender, her waist was impossibly tiny and her long, slim legs seemed to go on for ever.

  She climbed the stairs carefully, cheerfully greeting various members of the medical staff who passed. But he sensed that the cheerfulness was for everyone else’s benefit and his firm mouth tightened as he contemplated the possible reasons for her distress. Obviously it had something to do with the blond man who thought she was only worth £10.

  They reached the top of the stairs and he took her arm as they walked towards the car park.

  ‘Exactly how much alcohol have you consumed?’

  ‘None. I don’t drink. Although perhaps I should have done tonight. At least alcohol might have numbed the utter humiliation of being on that stage. I can’t believe I ever thought it would be a good idea. Thank goodness you came when you did. That creep almost bought me,’ she slurred, bending down to remove her shoes. ‘Ouch. Sorry. They’re really uncomfortable.’

  Did she think he was a fool?

  It was perfectly obvious that she’d been drinking.

  Andreas frowned. ‘If you found it humiliating, why did you agree to do it?’ he asked, noticing that without her shoes she had to tilt her head to look at him.

  Her shoes dangled from her fingers. ‘I did it because I promised that I would and I never break promises.’

  ‘You didn’t want to do it?’

  ‘I would rather have dug a hole and buried myself,’ she said frankly. ‘Standing on that stage and trying to look cheerful was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I almost died with relief when you rescued me. For a horrible moment I thought that my rotten brother had abandoned me to my fate. Which reminds me, I need to write you a cheque.’

  He looked at her blankly as she rummaged in her bag and produced a cheque book.

  ‘A thousand pounds, wasn’t it?’ She scribbled on the cheque, tore it out and handed it to him. ‘A bit steep, but never mind. It was very decent of you to turn up and buy me.’

  She staggered slightly and Andreas closed both hands over her arms to steady her.

  ‘Why are you giving me a cheque?’

  She stared up at him vacantly and he found himself noticing the perfect shape of her mouth.

  ‘Because that was the agreement.’

  Still studying her mouth, Andreas struggled to concentrate. ‘What agreement?’

  She hesitated, obviously trying to retrieve something from her memory that the alcohol had wiped out. ‘The agreement I made with my brother,’ she said finally, a smile of triumph on her face as she remembered. ‘He promised that if he couldn’t make it he’d send someone else to save me from Philip, and…’ she smiled at him dizzily ‘…he obviously sent you.’

  Andreas dragged his eyes away from her mouth. ‘I don’t know your brother.’

  She tilted her head and focused on him. ‘You don’t?’ She bit her soft lip, confusion evident in her beautiful eyes. ‘Alex promised me that if he was too busy to come he’d send someone to put in an outrageous bid for me so that no one else could buy me. I assumed it was you…’

  He shook his head, totally intrigued. Her brother had promised to buy her? ‘Not me.’

  She swallowed hard. ‘Well, if you didn’t buy me for my brother then why did you—?’ She broke off and backed away from him, her eyes suddenly wary. ‘Who the hell are you? And why would you pay that much money for a stranger?’

  ‘I thought that was the idea,’ Andreas said mildly. Clearly she was questioning his motives and he could hardly blame her for that. ‘Surely you wanted to persuade the audience to part with their money?’

  ‘Well, yes, but not a thousand pounds.’ She was still staring at him as if she expected him to attack her at any moment. ‘If you think that paying all that money guarantees you—I mean, if you think that I’ll…’ She stumbled over the words, clearly embarrassed, and then gave up and gave him a threatening look. ‘What I mean is, you’re in for a serious disappointment because I don’t do that!’

  He hid his amusement. ‘They were auctioning a date, Libby,’ he reminded her calmly, and she glared at him.

  ‘And doubtless you took that to mean sex because that’s what all men expect, and then afterwards I discover the wife and the child.’

  Andreas blinked, trying to keep up with her thought processes. ‘I don’t generally find I have to pay for sex,’ he drawled, and she tipped her head on one side and studied him closely, her small pink tongue snaking out and moistening her lips.

  ‘No, I’m sure you don’t. But, then, I bet you don’t usually have to pay for dates either.’

  Andreas inclined his head. ‘True.’

  Normally he had to play all sorts of games to keep women at a distance.

  Which made his current behaviour all the more unbelievable.

  She obviously agreed with him if the expression on her face was anything to go by. ‘So why did you pay such an outrageous amount of money for a date with me?’

  He was asking himself the same question.

  ‘Because I can afford it and because you’re very beautiful,’ he replied.

  She took a few more steps backwards, clutching her shoes tightly. ‘Well, I suggest you take the cheque I’m offering you,’ she said coldly. ‘I only agreed to do the auction because Alex promised he would buy me. I never, ever would have done it if I’d thought I’d actually have to go on a date. I don’t date men. Men are rats and creeps.’

  Andreas ran an experienced eye down a length of perfect thigh. A less likely candidate for celibacy he had yet to see. But there was no missing the utter misery in her blue eyes.

  It didn’t take a genius to work out that someone had obviously hurt her badly.

  ‘You’ve obviously been mixing with the wrong men,’ he said softly, and she gave a humourless laugh.

  ‘Funnily enough, I’ve worked that out for myself. From now on, no more relationships.’

  Unable to resist teasing her, Andreas smiled. ‘What about sex?’

  He watched with fascination as colour bloomed in her cheeks.

  ‘I’m old-fashioned,’ she muttered. �
��I don’t have sex without a relationship and seeing that men are hopeless at relationships, I’ve given up.’

  ‘So tell me.’ He stepped closer to her, his attention caught by the fullness of her lower lip. ‘Who was responsible for putting you off relationships?’

  ‘You want the short version or the long version?’ She shrugged carelessly but he guessed that she was battling with tears and he frowned, wondering what it was about her that made him feel so protective. Not that she would have thanked him for those feelings, he reflected wryly. These days women wanted to hunt their own dragons and kill them.

  ‘Whichever you want to tell me.’

  ‘Well, I suppose I’d have to start with my parents, who were definitely not a shining example of marital harmony. They never touched.’ She flashed him a suggestive smile. ‘Well, of course, they must have touched once, or they wouldn’t have had me, but fortunately for them they had triplets so they managed to get all the physical contact out of the way in one go.’

  Andreas thought of his own childhood and the love and emotional support he’d been given. It had been something that he’d taken for granted at the time, but his work as a paediatrician had brought him into contact with enough children from less privileged backgrounds than his for him to have been able to appreciate the impact that parental dis-harmony could have on a child’s view of life.

  ‘Their relationship put you off men?’

  ‘That and personal experience in the field,’ she said gloomily. ‘My most recent disaster turned out to be married.’

  Andreas frowned. ‘That’s what you meant by your comment about discovering the wife and child? You’ve definitely been dating the wrong men.’

  ‘Don’t use that smooth, seductive tone on me,’ she advised, swaying slightly as she looked at him. ‘It is totally wasted. I don’t trust anyone. From now on I’m cynical and suspicious. And the more attractive the man, the higher my index of suspicion. I ought to warn you that with you it’s soaring through the roof.’

  Before he could reply he saw her glance over his shoulder and her whole body tensed.

  Wondering what had caused her reaction, he turned his head briefly and saw the blond man hurrying towards them, looking agitated.

  ‘Oh, help—here he comes again. What does it take to get him to leave me alone?’ She lifted her chin bravely but he saw the anguish in her blue eyes.

  Andreas knew exactly how to persuade the man to leave her alone.

  Telling himself that he was merely helping a damsel in distress, he pulled her firmly against him and lowered his mouth to hers.

  He felt her stiffen in surprise and then melt against him, her mouth opening under the subtle pressure of his. She was all feminine temptation, her floral scent wrapping itself around him and drawing him in, her lips all sweetness and seduction as she kissed him back.

  Andreas was taken aback by the strength of his reaction to that kiss. His body throbbed with instant arousal and he cupped her face with confident hands, feeling her quiver of surprise as he deepened the kiss. She dropped the shoes she was holding and clutched at his shirt, whimpering slightly under the skilled assault of his mouth.

  Stunned by her uninhibited response and his own powerful reaction, he hauled her closer still and stroked a leisurely hand up her thigh, the warmth of her smooth skin intensifying the throbbing, pulsing ache of his erection.

  Feeling fireworks explode in his head, Andreas continued to explore her mouth, building the excitement to such dangerous levels that it threatened to engulf them both.

  It was the hottest, most erotic kiss he’d ever experienced and it wouldn’t have ended there if it hadn’t been for the loud slam of a car door that jerked them both back to the reality of their surroundings.

  Andreas lifted his head, considerably shaken by his definitely uncharacteristic response to the woman who now stood quivering in his arms.

  He glanced around him in utter disbelief, taking in the ordered rows of cars interspersed by the odd streetlamp. He’d always prided himself in his self-control and yet here he was ready to slam this woman against the nearest convenient surface and make love to her hard and fast until she begged for mercy.

  What the hell had happened to him?

  Not only were they in a public place but he was also aware that, whatever she said to the contrary, she’d had too much to drink and was obviously on the rebound.

  Neither factors provided a good basis for any sort of relationship.

  Cursing softly in Greek, he released her and then caught her again as she stumbled.

  She looked at him, bemused. ‘Feel dizzy,’ she muttered, her expression dazed and disconnected, her blue eyes cloudy as she lifted a finger to her lips.

  He felt pretty dizzy himself.

  Remembering just how good it had felt, Andreas fought the temptation to kiss her again. There would be other occasions, he reminded himself, and next time he was going to select the venue more carefully and ban alcohol. She looked as though she was about to collapse in a heap.

  ‘I’d better take you home.’

  Before he committed an indecent act in a public place.

  And when she was sober he’d arrange a proper date in a place where there’d be absolutely no chance of interruptions.

  He stooped to pick up the shoes she’d dropped and then pointed his key towards his car and unlocked it. Suddenly aware that she was swaying again, he swept her off her feet and carried her to his car, trying to ignore her feminine scent and the way her soft hair tickled his cheek.

  ‘Put me down.’ Her words were slightly slurred and she wriggled in his arms. ‘I hate men. I don’t want to go on a date. And I don’t want another kiss. It made me feel strange.’

  Her head flopped back and he deposited her in the passenger seat, trying valiantly to ignore the fact that her dress had ridden up and was now revealing every perfect inch of her long legs. Her eyes closed and Andreas stared at her in exasperation.

  ‘What exactly did you drink tonight?’

  ‘One glass of really, really delicious orange juice,’ she murmured sleepily, and he rolled his eyes.

  Did she really expect him to believe that?

  She was barely coherent!

  ‘I need to take you home,’ he drawled, wondering if she knew just how big a risk she was taking by getting so drunk that she didn’t know who she was with. She hadn’t even asked his name.

  ‘Give me your address.’ He slammed the driver’s door shut and turned to look at her, groaning with frustration as he saw her curled up in his passenger seat as snug and comfortable as a tiny kitten. She was fast asleep.

  His patience severely tested, Andreas sat back in his seat and counted to ten while he contemplated the problem.

  So much for taking her home.

  He had absolutely no intention of going back to the bar to discover her address, so he really had no option other than to take her back to his house. Which made life extremely complicated because Adrienne was there.

  He closed his eyes briefly and swore under his breath.

  The evening was definitely not ending the way he’d intended.

  Chapter 2

  Libby awoke with a crushing headache.

  With a whimper of self-pity she sat up and found herself looking into a pair of curious brown eyes. A girl sat on the end of her bed. Underneath the unruly brown hair and layers of make-up, Libby guessed her to be about twelve.

  ‘Wow.’ The girl studied her closely. ‘You look really ill.’

  Libby bit back a groan and closed her eyes. She had absolutely no idea where she was but she knew she had an almighty hangover.

  Which didn’t really make sense because she hadn’t touched alcohol.

  Or, at least, not intentionally.

  Suspicion entering her mind she lifted a hand to her aching skull and sat up slowly, wincing slightly as a shaft of sunlight probed through the curtain and stabbed her between the eyes.

  Realising that she was lying in an enormous, ele
gant bedroom, panic swamped her.

  Whose bedroom?

  Just what had happened last night?

  The girl was still studying her closely, as if she couldn’t understand how anyone could look so awful and still be alive. ‘Yiayia made Andreas promise that he’d never bring a woman home while I was in the house, so I suppose that means he’s in love with you.’

  What?

  Who was the girl sitting on the bed?

  And who the hell was Andreas?

  Searching her aching brain for some recollection of what had happened the night before, Libby had a sudden memory of broad, muscular shoulders, a firm mouth and lots and lots of fireworks.

  Yes, there’d definitely been fireworks.

  ‘I…er…who exactly is Yiayia?’

  ‘Yiayia is Greek for Grandma, and you’ve said enough, Adrienne.’ Cool male tones came from the doorway and the girl scrambled off the bed, suddenly wary.

  ‘There’s no need to use that scary tone. I’m old enough to know the facts of life and I know all about sex.’ She looked at Libby curiously. ‘Did you have sex? Yiayia says that loads of women want to go to bed with Andreas because he’s seriously rich and very good-looking. Women go mad about him.’

  Deprived of her powers of speech, Libby glanced helplessly at the man in the doorway and clashed with the darkest, sexiest eyes she’d ever seen. Despite her somewhat pathetic state, her mouth fell open and she did something she never did when she met a man.

  She stared.

  He was well over six feet, powerfully built, with jet black hair smoothed back from his forehead and bronzed skin that suggested a Mediterranean heritage. He possessed all the arrogant self-assurance of a man who’d been chased by women from the cradle.

  She felt herself colour under his sharp gaze. It was evident from the hint of mockery in his dark eyes that he realised that she had an extremely hazy recollection of the events of the night before.

  ‘You talk too much, Adrienne.’ Without shifting his gaze from Libby’s pale face, he strolled into the bedroom and she noticed for the first time that he was carrying a mug. ‘Drink that.’ He placed a mug of black coffee on the bedside table. ‘It will help.’