The Greek Children's Doctor

by Morgan, Sara

  Confronted by this final confirmation that he was well aware of her delicate condition, Libby shrank back against the pillow, stricken with guilt at her own behaviour.

  She’d obviously been horribly drunk the night before.

  What she didn’t understand was how.

  Unlike her, he was fully dressed and she was uncomfortably aware of his wide shoulders and sleek, dark good looks next to her near nakedness. Deciding that so much masculine virility was too much for a woman with a headache, Libby reached for the coffee.

  Grandma had a point, she thought weakly. She didn’t know about the rich bit, but he was incredibly good-looking. Almost enough to make a woman forget that all men were rats.

  Which was evidently what she must have done when she’d agreed to go back to his flat with him.

  How could she have done such a thing?

  She never took risks like that!

  She was obviously seriously on the rebound.

  Catching sight of her pink dress draped carelessly over the back of a chair, she gave a whimper of mortification.

  How had it got there? She had absolutely no recollection of getting undressed. Realising that she was wearing a white silk shirt that she’d never seen before in her life, her stomach flipped.

  What exactly had happened the night before?

  She remembered arriving at the auction and being given a drink of orange juice by Bev.

  And she definitely remembered fireworks.

  ‘Yiayia says that if a man and a woman spend a night together they have to get married,’ the girl said firmly, and the man said something sharp in a language that Libby assumed was Greek before switching to English.

  ‘Go and get ready for school,’ he ordered, ‘and wash that muck off your face. They’ll refuse to have you back if you look like that.’

  ‘That’s why I did it,’ the girl said moodily, and he sighed, the long-suffering sigh of a man stretched to the limits of his patience.

  ‘You know you have to go back.’ His voice was firm but held a note of sympathy. ‘Just until we sort this out. I’m interviewing housekeepers next week.’

  Adrienne looked at him. ‘If you got married you wouldn’t need to employ a housekeeper. It’s time you settled down with a decent woman, not someone like—’

  ‘Adrienne!’ This time the man’s voice was icy cold. ‘That’s enough. Go and wash your face.’

  The girl’s slim shoulders sagged. ‘But—’

  ‘Now!’

  The commanding tone evidently worked because Adrienne subsided and left the room with a last curious look at Libby.

  There was a long silence and Libby felt her colour rise.

  Feeling that someone ought to say something, she put her coffee down and pushed her tangled blonde curls out of her eyes. ‘Er…about last night…’

  Not having a clue what had actually taken place the previous night, she left the statement hanging, hoping that he’d be enough of a gentleman to say something reassuring, but he merely looked at her quizzically and waited for her to finish.

  Libby sighed. He was obviously one of those enviable people who used silence as a weapon, whereas she, unfortunately, had never mastered the art.

  ‘Look.’ Deciding that directness was the best approach, she took a deep breath. ‘Did you spike my drink last night?’

  He lifted a dark eyebrow. ‘You think I need to render a woman senseless in order to persuade her to come home with me?’

  No, she didn’t think that.

  He was the embodiment of most women’s fantasies.

  She flushed and concluded from his amused expression that he obviously wasn’t the one responsible for her pounding headache.

  ‘I’m sorry, it’s just that someone must have but I really don’t remember that much—except the fireworks. They were great. What did—?’ She broke off and cleared her throat nervously. ‘Well, obviously you brought me back here, which was very kind of you, but did we—? I mean, I don’t remember if we actually—You see, I don’t do that sort of thing usually, but I suppose I must have been a bit upset last night and…’

  Totally disconcerted by his continued silence, she gave a groan and hid her head under the covers.

  Why didn’t he say something?

  And what exactly had they done?

  She was never, ever going out again.

  It was just too embarrassing.

  Finally she felt the bed shift under his weight and the covers were firmly pulled away from her.

  ‘Two things,’ he said softly, and she decided that although he didn’t say much, it was definitely worth the wait when he did. He spoke with a slight accent, his deep voice caressing her nerve endings and soothing her aching head. The tension oozed out of her and she felt herself relax. His voice was amazing. ‘Firstly, you should know that when I make love to a woman, Libby, she always remembers it.’

  The tension was back with a vengeance. Her breath trapped in her lungs, heart thudding against her rib cage, Libby swallowed hard and stared into his very amused eyes.

  He exuded a raw, animal sex appeal that took her breath away and she felt a powerful urge to slide her arms round his strong neck and kiss him.

  She could well imagine that a night with him would be an unforgettable experience.

  Appalled by the uncharacteristically explicit nature of her own thoughts, she pulled her mind back to the present and tightened her grip on the covers as if they could afford her some protection.

  ‘Right.’ Her voice was little more than a squeak. ‘And what was the second thing?’

  ‘The second thing is that there were no fireworks…’ he dealt her a sizzling smile that sent an electric current through her trembling body ‘…until I kissed you.’

  And with that he stood up and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Having dropped Adrienne at her boarding school, Andreas strolled onto the ward an hour later, immediately aware of the consternation his appearance created.

  Having recognised him from the night before, the staff were all evidently wondering what had happened to Libby.

  ‘You’re the new consultant?’ The ward sister stared at him and then gave him a weak smile. ‘Er, I’m Bev—and you’re a day early.’

  Andreas lifted a broad shoulder. ‘I like to be on top of things.’

  Bev bit her lip. ‘We noticed you last night. But we didn’t know—I mean, we didn’t recognise you.’

  ‘Of course you didn’t.’ He’d been careful not to introduce himself to anyone.

  Bev took a deep breath and asked the question that she was obviously dying to ask. ‘What did you do with Libby?’

  Not what he’d wanted to do.

  ‘I left her to sleep it off,’ he drawled, moving to the notes trolley. ‘Do the nurses on this ward always party that hard?’

  Bev’s shoulders stiffened defensively. ‘For your information, we’re desperately short-staffed and Libby worked sixteen hours on the trot yesterday and the same the day before. She had no breaks and nothing to eat all day. It’s not surprising she was tipsy.’

  Andreas refrained from pointing out that she’d been more than tipsy. By the time he’d laid her on the bed and undressed her, she’d been unconscious.

  But she seemed to be under the impression that she hadn’t drunk anything.

  ‘Well, I have to warn you not to expect her in today,’ he said smoothly. He remembered how pale and exhausted she’d looked when he’d left her, her amazing blonde hair spread over the pillow in his spare bedroom.

  Mindful of Adrienne’s presence, he’d resisted the temptation to join her on the bed and apply his considerable skills to bringing some colour to her cheeks.

  ‘She’s not due in until later anyway, and Libby’s got the stamina of an ox. She’ll be here.’ Bev grabbed a set of notes and smiled at him hopefully. ‘As you’re early, I don’t suppose you’d see a child for me, would you? The rest of your team all seem to be tied up elsewhere and I think her drain c
ould probably come out.’

  Andreas held out his hand for the notes. ‘Let’s go.’

  Libby arrived on the ward later that morning, changed into the bright blue tracksuit bottoms and red T-shirt that all the nurses wore when they were on duty and tied her hair back with a matching ribbon.

  The black coffee had helped enormously. Her head was still pounding but it was as much from tiredness as anything else. She’d worked so many double shifts in the last month that she’d forgotten what the inside of her own flat looked like.

  And after last night…

  She groaned at the memory, stuffed the white shirt and the pink dress into her locker and went in search of Bev.

  She found her by the drugs trolley.

  ‘What did you put in that orange juice?’ Libby glanced over her shoulder to check that no one was listening. ‘Someone spiked my drink and I’ve just worked out that it had to have been you.’

  ‘Vodka,’ Bev muttered, not quite meeting her eyes.

  Libby stared at her, appalled. ‘Vodka? For crying out loud, Bev! I hadn’t had a single thing to eat all day. What were you doing?’

  ‘Giving you courage,’ Bev said calmly, her eyes still on the drugs trolley. ‘You were nervous.’

  ‘Nervous? Thanks to you, I could hardly walk!’

  ‘You looked fine. Better than fine. Really relaxed and sexy. We got £1000 for you. That cheque boosted our funds no end. Do you know how much we made?’

  ‘I don’t care how much we made.’ Libby groaned and covered her face with her hands. ‘Do you realise that I woke up in a strange bed this morning, in the house of a strange man who I don’t even remember?’ Her hands dropped to her sides and she frowned at Bev. ‘What’s the matter with you? Why aren’t you looking at me?’

  Bev looked hideously uncomfortable and Libby felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘There’s more, isn’t there?’

  The ward sister tensed awkwardly. ‘Well, there is something I probably ought to tell you—and you’re not going to be pleased. It’s about the man who bought you last night. Actually, he’s—’

  Loud screams interrupted her and Libby winced and glanced towards the ward. ‘Who is that?’

  ‘Little Marcus Green.’ Bev pulled a face. ‘He had his hernia repair and his mother’s had to leave him to sort out a crisis at home. Not a happy child.’

  The screaming intensified and Libby rubbed her aching head. ‘Poor little mite. I’ll go and see to him,’ she muttered. ‘We’ll finish this conversation later.’

  ‘No!’ Bev grabbed her arm. ‘Libby, wait, I really need to tell you about the man who bought you. He’s—’

  ‘Later.’ Libby shrugged her off and walked off down the ward, ponytail swinging as she hurried towards the sound.

  One of the staff nurses was trying to distract him and she gave a sigh of relief when she saw Libby. ‘I’m glad to see you. He’s been like this for hours. His mum had to go and see to the older one at home and he’s been hysterical ever since.’

  Libby scooped the screaming toddler into her arms, careful not to damage the wound, and carried him over to the pile of colourful cushions that were piled in the corner of the ward.

  ‘There, sweetheart. You’ll soon feel better.’ She dropped a kiss on top of his head. ‘Shall we have a story while we wait for Mummy? I know you love stories.’

  Marcus continued to sob and hiccough and Libby cuddled him close as she selected a book and settled down on the cushions with the little boy on her lap. ‘You can choose. ‘‘Three Little Pigs’’ or ‘‘Little Red Riding Hood’’?’

  The toddler’s sobs lessened. ‘Pigs.’

  ‘Three Little Pigs it is, then,’ Libby said, reaching for the book and giving a gasp. ‘Oh, my goodness, have you seen this?’

  At her excited tone the toddler stopped sobbing and stared.

  ‘What a cute piggy,’ Libby said happily, and Marcus sneaked his thumb into his mouth and snuggled onto her lap for a closer look.

  ‘Once upon a time…’ Libby spoke in a soft voice and several other children slid out of their beds and joined her on the cushions, all listening round-eyed as she told the story.

  Having examined the baby and given instructions for the drain to be removed, Andreas walked back through the ward and stopped dead at the sight of Libby, her blonde hair caught back in a bright ribbon, almost buried under a group of contented children.

  They were snuggled close to her, listening avidly as she read, one of them holding onto her hand and another settled comfortably on her lap.

  She was a little pale, but apart from that she looked none the worse for her excesses of the night before.

  In fact, she looked incredibly beautiful and desire slammed through him again.

  Bev appeared by his side. ‘I told you she’d be here,’ she said airily, and relieved him of the notes. ‘Don’t disturb her now. That toddler has been screaming since he woke up. We were all at our wits’ end. We’ve given him painkillers but they didn’t help. He needed comfort and that’s Libby’s speciality.’

  Was it?

  Andreas stared, his attention held by Libby who was laughing at something one of the children had said. She was gentle and smiley and thoroughly at home with the children. Frankly, it wasn’t what he’d expected. Having seen her on the stage, he’d expected shallow and frivolous and what he was seeing was something completely different.

  He watched, feeling something shift inside him. After his recent experiences, he’d given up on meeting a woman who found children anything other than a nuisance.

  ‘She’s good with them.’ His soft observation drew Bev’s glance.

  ‘Yeah, she’s better than most drugs. No one cheers the children up like Libby,’ she told him. ‘She’s the best. This ward would have collapsed without her. She does the work of three.’

  As they watched, the little boy snuggled closer and Libby curved an arm around him and cuddled him closer.

  She was a natural storyteller, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm and mischief as she emphasised the drama and held their attention.

  She’d just got to the part where the wolf fell into the hot water when she looked up and saw him, her eyes widening with recognition. Her gaze slid to Bev in silent question and her cheeks turned pink with mortification as understanding dawned.

  Bev gave a weak smile and shrugged helplessly.

  ‘More.’ The toddler tugged her arm, frustrated that the story had stopped and oblivious to the drama being played out around him. ‘Want more story.’

  Libby swallowed, obediently croaked her way to the end and then scrambled to her feet, Marcus still in her arms.

  Bev cleared her throat. ‘This is Andreas Christakos, the new consultant.’ She spoke in a bright, professional voice that did nothing to alleviate the tension in the air. ‘Andreas, this is Elizabeth Westerling. We call her Libby. I think you’ve already met each other…’ Her voice trailed off slightly, and Libby closed her eyes briefly, her cheeks still pink with embarrassment.

  One of the little girls tugged at her clothes. ‘I need the toilet, Libby.’

  ‘I’ll take you, sweetheart,’ Bev said quickly, catching her by the hand, obviously eager to find an excuse to get away.

  Another little boy stepped closer. ‘Is that the end of the story?’

  Dragging her gaze away from his, Libby glanced down and managed a smile. ‘For now. I’ve got to do some work.’

  ‘Can we have another story later?’

  ‘Maybe. If there’s time.’ She stroked Marcus’s hair and put him back in his cot. She looked pale from lack of sleep and there were dark rings under her eyes but her beauty still took Andreas’s breath away.

  There were sparks of accusation in her eyes as she turned to face him. ‘Well, that was a pretty dirty trick.’

  He lifted an eyebrow quizzically and she glared at him coldly.

  ‘Not telling me you were the new consultant.’

  ‘You didn�
�t ask me. In fact, you didn’t even ask my name. You just passed out on me,’ he pointed out mildly, enjoying the blush that warmed her cheeks. She had incredible skin. Smooth and creamy and untouched by the harshness of the sun.

  ‘But you knew who I was,’ she said accusingly. ‘You knew I worked on the ward.’

  ‘There was a strong chance of it.’ He lifted a broad shoulder. ‘So?’

  She stared at him incredulously. ‘Didn’t you think that it might be embarrassing? Do you always mix business with pleasure?’

  He gave a smile that was totally male. ‘That,’ he said slowly, ‘depends on the extent of the pleasure.’

  ‘Right.’ She stared at him for a long moment and then looked away, her chest rising and falling rapidly. ‘Well, at least I can save myself postage. Your shirt is in my locker.’

  ‘My shirt?’

  ‘The shirt you dressed me in, Dr Christakos.’ Her voice was loaded with accusation. ‘When I was asleep. Remember?’

  Of course he remembered.

  He remembered every delectable inch of her. ‘I didn’t think you’d be very comfortable sleeping in that pink thing. It seemed a little tight.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘I’m supposed to be grateful that you undressed me?’

  ‘Calm down,’ he drawled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. ‘I kept my eyes closed the whole time. Well—most of the time.’

  Libby’s mouth tightened and she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the treatment room.

  ‘I think we’d better get a few things straight.’ Her blue eyes flashed at him as she let the doors swing closed behind her. ‘I only allowed you to buy me because I thought my brother had sent you. I had no intention of going on a date with anyone.’

  ‘You’re angry because I bought you?’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘You would have preferred me to have stood aside and let the blond man buy you?’

  She stiffened slightly. ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘I seem to remember you holding onto me pretty tightly last night.’

  His dark eyes glittered with amusement and she coloured. ‘Yes, well, at the time I thought you were rescuing me.’