by Morgan, Sara
‘I was.’
She glanced at him impatiently. ‘You know what I mean! I thought my brother had sent you.’
He shrugged carelessly. ‘He didn’t, but I don’t see the problem.’
‘There is no problem, providing you take the £1000 back,’ she said, and he smiled.
‘I don’t want the money,’ he said smoothly. ‘I paid for a date and that’s what I want.’
And this time he was going to take the kiss to its natural conclusion.
She lifted her chin. ‘And do you always get what you want?’
He smiled. ‘Always.’
She sucked in a breath, looking slightly taken aback. ‘Well, you won’t on this occasion. I don’t date men.’
Andreas leaned broad shoulders against the wall and tried to adjust to the fact that he’d just been turned down by a woman. It was a totally new experience.
‘So…’ He shrugged casually. ‘You get to know me a little, and then you say yes.’
Her mouth fell open. ‘Confident, aren’t you?’
‘Remember the fireworks, Libby.’
She stilled and her eyes connected with his. For a long moment she stared at him and then she swallowed and backed away, hoping that distance would cure the fluttering in her stomach. ‘Leave me alone. I’m very grateful that you rescued me from Philip last night and I’m grateful that you took me home when I was in a less than coherent state—’
‘You were drunk,’ he slotted in helpfully, and she winced.
‘I hadn’t eaten anything all day and I had one vodka—apparently.’ She rubbed slim fingers across her temple as if the memory alone was enough to inflict a headache. ‘It was hidden in the orange juice.’
Hidden?
‘Anyway.’ She looked at him warily. ‘It’s history now.’
His gaze slid down her slim body, noting that she was trembling and that her hands were clenched into fists by her sides.
Despite her protests, it was blindingly obvious that she was as strongly affected by their encounter as he’d been, and it was hardly surprising. The chemistry between them was overwhelmingly powerful.
Gratified and encouraged by her response to him, he folded his arms across his broad chest and reminded himself that she’d been badly hurt. It was just a question of patience. ‘It isn’t history. You owe me a date.’
‘Haven’t you learned the meaning of the word ‘‘no’’? What the hell is the matter with you men?’ She glared at him with frustration and then stalked across the treatment room, pausing to look at him as she reached the door. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, you have a little girl at home. I don’t think your wife would be too impressed if she could hear you now.’
Andreas tensed, reflecting on how close he’d come to being in exactly the position she’d described.
If it hadn’t been for Adrienne he’d have made a colossal mistake.
‘I don’t have a wife,’ he said softly, ‘and Adrienne isn’t my daughter, she’s my niece. But it’s true that I do have a responsibility towards her for the time being, which is why you slept in the spare room last night and not in my bed.’
Colour flared in her cheeks and she sucked in a breath. ‘I would not have been in your bed, Dr Christakos. I don’t do things like that.’
‘You didn’t know whose bed you were in,’ he pointed out, touching her flushed cheek with a strong finger. ‘That might be a point worth remembering next time you have a drink.’
‘Perhaps you should address your comments to the ward sister,’ she muttered, and he frowned.
So it was the ward sister who’d spiked her drink. Which explained why she’d been so worried about Libby when he’d walked onto the ward alone.
Well, next time he took Libby out he was going to make sure that she didn’t touch a drop of alcohol. He wanted her stone cold sober.
‘What time are you off duty?’
‘That is none of your business. What was it your niece said? That women are always chasing you for your looks and your money?’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘I don’t normally tell people this on such a short acquaintance, but it’s probably only fair to warn you that my father is one of the richest men in England and I’ve always been hideously suspicious of really good-looking men. So you have absolutely nothing to offer me.’
‘How about fireworks?’ He stepped closer to her, amused by the way she snatched in her breath and glared at him. She was trying so hard to pretend that she wasn’t interested in him and he found it surprisingly endearing.
‘Remember those fireworks, Libby,’ he drawled softly, lifting a hand and trailing a finger down the slim line of her throat. ‘Next time we’re going to set them off in private.’
She stared at him like a rabbit caught in headlights. ‘There won’t be a next time and I won’t be seeing you in private. I’m not interested.’
Her anguished rejection of their attraction made his heart twist. It was like dealing with an injured animal.
‘I paid for a date with you, Libby,’ he reminded her calmly, ‘and I intend to claim it.’
Deciding that the first step in her rehabilitation was to kiss her when she was sober, he slid both hands around her face and tilted it, his eyes dropping to her mouth as her lips parted and she sucked in a breath.
Underneath his fingers he could feel a pulse beating in her throat and he lowered his head slowly, deliberately, closing the gap between them.
Her blue eyes locked with his, their breath mingling, and when their mouths finally touched he gave a groan of satisfaction, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips in a sensual onslaught that left her shivering.
He kissed her slowly and thoroughly and when he finally lifted his head she just stared at him, visibly shocked, and he couldn’t prevent the smile of all-male satisfaction that tugged at his mouth.
‘Now try telling me you’re not interested, Libby.’
Without giving her a chance to recover and deliver a suitable response, he left the treatment room and went back to work, deciding that his new job was looking better all the time.
Libby stood frozen to the spot in the treatment room, her whole body trembling.
Her head had been full of a thousand things that she’d wanted to say, and they’d all vanished the moment his mouth had met hers.
She’d never been particularly into kissing if she was honest. Her mind usually wandered and she found herself inventing excuses to end the evening promptly.
But now she realised that she’d never really been kissed before.
Not properly.
Andreas Christakos had kissed her properly. His kiss had been a full-blown seduction which had affected her ability to think coherently.
In fact, the way he kissed made her feel so hot and he made her want more.
If that was the starter then she definitely wanted the main course.
Libby gave a horrified groan and covered her face with her hands.
And the worst thing was that he knew it.
He’d kissed her into a state of quivering, shameless excitement and had then strolled casually out of the room with all the arrogant self-confidence of a man who didn’t know the meaning of rejection.
Libby’s hands dropped to her sides and she tried to pull herself together.
No more kissing, she vowed silently. Absolutely no more kissing. It turned her brain to mush and there was no way she was going to be able to keep him at a safe distance if he did it again.
He was so good-looking it was hard to concentrate and it would have been very, very easy to give in to all that Greek charm.
But she wasn’t going to.
And she definitely wasn’t going on a date with him.
He’d be the same as all the others. Worse probably, if his niece was to be believed. What had she said? That women were always chasing after him?
Libby shuddered. Those sorts of men were always the worst. Smug and arrogant. And definitely not to be trusted.
If he expected her to do any
chasing then he was in for a shock. She had more sense than to fall for a pair of sexy dark eyes and an incredible body.
She was going to be running as hard as she could in the opposite direction, and now she knew where to find him she’d be delivering him a cheque at the first opportunity.
She lifted her hand to her mouth, touching her lips gently, wondering whether it was obvious to everyone that she’d just been kissed. She felt as though it was branded on her forehead.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door of the treatment room, glancing furtively around her to check that no one was watching.
She could do it, she told herself firmly. She was a professional and she could work with this man.
OK, so he obviously had a Ph.D. in kissing and he was totally different from doctors that she worked with on a daily basis, but she could do it.
Bev sidled up to her, looking sheepish. ‘Er, Libby…’
Libby glared at her. This was all her fault! ‘Go away. You are not my favourite person right now.’
‘Libby, the man’s gorgeous, you should be thanking me for making it happen.’
‘Thanking you?’ Libby let out a choked laugh. ‘Thanks to you, our new consultant thinks I’m a dizzy, brainless lush with a sad love life.’
‘He paid £1000 for one date with you,’ Bev pointed out wistfully. ‘That’s an enormous sum of money. He can’t think you’re that bad.’
Libby groaned and rubbed slim fingers over her aching forehead. ‘I can’t believe you got me into this mess. How am I ever going to have any credibility with him?’
‘You’re a great nurse,’ Bev said firmly. ‘The minute he sees you in action, he’ll be bowled over.’
‘He undressed me,’ Libby hissed in an outraged tone, and Bev’s eyes widened.
‘Wow. You lucky thing.’
Libby looked at her blankly. ‘Lucky?’
‘Libby, he’s gorgeous,’ Bev breathed wistfully. ‘He is the most stunning-looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on.’
‘Precisely. His rat factor must be off the scale.’
Bev rolled her eyes. ‘If someone fancied me enough to pay £1000 for a date, then as far as I’m concerned they could have me for ever. It’s incredibly romantic.’
‘It’s not romantic. It’s embarrassing. And, thanks to you, from now on I’m going to have to avoid him. And how am I going to work with a man I have to avoid? Aargh!’ Libby rolled her eyes in frustration and at that moment one of the more junior nurses hurried up.
‘Libby, can you take a look at Rachel Miller for me, please? The GP sent her in an hour ago with a very high temperature and it’s showing no sign of coming down. I don’t like the look of her. She’s still waiting to be seen by one of the doctors but they’ve been caught up in clinic and I wasn’t sure whether to bother the new consultant.’
With a last meaningful look at Bev, Libby followed her colleague down the ward and into one of the side rooms that had cots and beds for parents who wanted to stay.
The baby was in a side ward and Libby could see instantly that she was very poorly. She lay still in the cot, her breathing noisy and her cheeks flushed. Immediately Libby snapped into professional mode, her personal worries forgotten.
The baby’s mother was by her side, pale and worried. ‘She’s really floppy and so, so hot.’
‘Can you tell me what happened?’ Libby spoke softly, her eyes fixed on the child, assessing her breathing. ‘When did she become ill?’
‘She was a bit under the weather yesterday morning and then she just got worse and worse. By teatime she was just lying on the sofa.’
And she was just lying now. Totally unresponsive. It wasn’t a good sign.
‘Could you get her interested in anything—toys, books?’ The mother shook her head. ‘Nothing. She just lay there. Finally I panicked and took her to the GP and he sent us in here.’
‘And when did she last have paracetamol syrup?’
‘Two hours ago.’ The mother looked at her anxiously. ‘What’s going to happen?’
‘I’m going to check her temperature now and then ask one of the doctors to see her straight away.’ Libby reached for the thermometer. ‘Has she had all her immunisations, Mrs Miller?’
‘Please, call me Alison and, yes, she’s had everything.’
‘Good.’
Libby checked the temperature and recorded it on the chart. ‘It’s very high, as you know. Has she been drinking much?’
‘She’s just not interested in anything.’
‘When did she last have a wet nappy?’
The mother looked startled by the question. ‘I don’t know…’
‘It’s a way of judging her fluid output,’ Libby explained, and the woman nodded.
‘Oh, I see.’ She frowned slightly. ‘I suppose I changed it about three hours ago.’
Libby checked the child’s blood pressure and then gave Alison Miller a brief smile.
‘OK, well, the next thing to do is to ask one of our doctors to see her. We need to find out what’s causing this temperature. I’ll be back as soon as I can. If you’re worried, press the buzzer.’
She gritted her teeth and went to find Andreas. She would have preferred to have avoided him completely but that wasn’t an option. Bleeping one of the more junior members of his team would have taken time and she didn’t have time.
And, anyway, she didn’t really want one of the more junior members of his team.
She was worried about little Rachel. She needed someone experienced and he was the consultant after all.
She found him at the nurses’ station, checking a set of X-rays, his shoulders impossibly wide as he stood with his back to her.
Libby swallowed and dragged her mind back to her work. She already knew he was a fantastic kisser. It was time to find out what he was like as a children’s doctor.
‘I need a doctor to see a new admission for me urgently.’ Her tone was cool and ultra-dignified as she struggled to behave as though she hadn’t kissed him senseless and then woken up half-naked in his spare bedroom. ‘I don’t like the look of her. Seeing that the rest of your team are elsewhere, I wondered whether you’d do it.’
Or was he the type of consultant who preferred to delegate to his staff? He turned and she backed away a few steps, watching him warily.
In work mode he suddenly seemed very imposing.
‘I’ll see her.’ He flicked off the light-box and moved towards her. ‘What’s the history?’
Relaxing her guard slightly, Libby fell into step beside him as they walked back to the side ward. ‘She was referred by her GP, but the letter just says that she’s worried about the child’s temperature. Not much else. The child is floppy, she’s refusing fluids and I don’t like the look of her.’
She’d been a children’s nurse long enough to trust her instincts and her instincts were shrieking about Rachel.
‘Great.’ He shot her a wry smile. ‘It’s wonderful to be a GP, isn’t it? If in doubt, refer to hospital and let someone else make the decision.’
‘Before you insult GPs, you should probably know that my brother is doing a GP rotation—’
He lifted an eyebrow and his mouth twitched in humour. ‘This is the same brother who forgot to buy you last night?’
Libby gave a wry smile at the reminder. ‘I still have to speak to him about that. But despite his shortcomings as a brother, he’s a very dedicated doctor. I expect he was caught up with a patient, which was why he didn’t show up. Unluckily for me.’
‘But luckily for me,’ Andreas breathed softly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her.
She blushed hotly. ‘Stop it!’
‘Stop what?’ He dealt her a slow smile. ‘Libby, I haven’t even begun yet.’
Without giving her a chance to speak again, he walked into the side ward and introduced himself to Alison Miller before bending over the cot.
His swift shift from professional to personal and back again flustered her more than she cared
to admit, and Libby struggled to concentrate as she followed him into the room.
Andreas didn’t seem to be suffering from the same affliction. His eyes were on his tiny patient.
To the uninitiated it might have seemed as though he was just looking at the baby, but Libby knew that he was accumulating vital pieces of information. She saw his eyes rest on the child’s chest, assessing her breathing, saw the way that he noted her skin colour and the way she lay limp and unresponsive in the cot.
He lifted his head and looked at Libby, the humour gone from his eyes. ‘Temperature?’
‘Forty point seven,’ Libby said immediately, and his mouth tightened.
‘How did you take it?’
‘With a tympanic membrane thermometer. I find it the best method in a child of this age.’
It gave an accurate reading of a child’s core body temperature and didn’t cause undue distress.
Andreas nodded his approval and looked at the chart Libby handed him, his eyes scanning the detail. Then he lifted his head and talked to the mother about the illness, questioning her about immunisations and family history.
As he finished scribbling on the notes, the baby started to cry fretfully.
Alison looked at them. ‘Is it OK to pick her up?’
‘Of course.’ Andreas answered her with a reassuring smile before slipping his pen back into his pocket. ‘Cuddle her. Then I will examine her. Libby, can I take a look at the letter from the GP?’
Libby handed it over. ‘She did speak to Jonathon, your SHO.’
Alison scooped the baby out of the cot and looked at them anxiously. ‘She said that it was probably just a virus but that it was best to be safe as her temperature was so high.’
It didn’t sound as though the GP had even examined the child.
Libby glanced briefly at Andreas but his expression didn’t flicker.
‘Right.’ He checked in the notes and frowned. As Libby had commented, there was virtually nothing in the referral letter. ‘I’d like to examine her again, please. I’ll go and fetch my things while you get her ready.’
Libby nodded and spoke quietly to Alison, explaining what was going on.
‘Just hold her on your lap,’ she suggested, fetching a chair to make it easier. ‘Dr Christakos needs to examine her ears, and it’s easier if you hold her like this, and like this…’ Libby demonstrated and Alison did as she’d requested.