The Greek Children's Doctor

‘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 TWO

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, elegant 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.’

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 could 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.