The Greek Children's Doctor(2)

'I'll come in early tomorrow,' she offered, and Bev bit her lip.

'I can't ask you to do that, you've worked a double shift today … '

'You didn't ask. I volunteered.'

Bev leaned forward and gave her a hug. 'You're brilliant, and if I were a man I'd definitely buy you.'

'And then you'd go home and sleep with a woman who turns out to be a  wife that you conveniently forgot to mention,' Libby said dryly. 'So  tell me-is the new consultant a woman or a rat?'

Bev laughed. 'He's a man, if that's what you're asking.'

'Oh well, you can't have everything.'

With a wistful smile Libby stroked the baby's smooth cheek and then laid  her carefully back in her cot, tucking the sheet around her.

The baby was so beautiful. It made her terribly broody, caring for her, and she would have loved one of her own.

It was just a shame that having a baby required contact with a man.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Andreas Christakos strolled onto the  ward, six feet three of broad-shouldered, drop-dead-handsome Greek male.

The night sister, confronted by this unexpected vision of raw, masculine  virility, dropped the pile of sheets she was carrying and lost her  powers of speech.

Acknowledging that it probably hadn't been quite fair of him to arrive  unannounced, Andreas extended a lean, bronzed hand and introduced  himself.

The night sister paled slightly. 'You're the new consultant? We weren't  exactly expecting you … ' She stooped to pick up the sheets, visibly  flustered by his unscheduled appearance. 'Did you want to see-? I mean,  it seems a little late-'



'I merely came to familiarise myself with the whereabouts of the ward,'  he assured her smoothly, his eyes flickering over the walls which were  covered in brightly coloured children's paintings. 'I don't officially  start until Monday.'

She clutched the sheets to her chest and looked relieved. 'That's what I  thought. Good. Well, please, help yourself to the notes trolley-they're  all there and any X-rays are underneath. We're pretty quiet for once,  so everyone's slipped off to the auction,' the night sister told him.  'They'll be back when it finishes-or sooner if I call them.'

'Auction?' Andreas frowned as he repeated the word. He'd always thought  his English was fluent but he found himself very unsure about what she  was describing. Surely an auction involved paintings or other valuable  artefacts?

'We're selling a date with each member of staff to raise money to buy equipment for our new playroom.'

Andreas, traditional and Greek to the very backbone, struggled with this concept. They were selling dates?

Aware that she was waiting for some sort of response, he dealt her a  sizzling smile. 'It sounds like a novel way to raise money.'

'It is.' She looked at him for a moment and then smiled cheekily, her  nervousness vanishing. 'You're very good-looking. Perhaps you should  consider auctioning yourself.'

The smile froze on his face. 'I don't think so.'

He had enough trouble keeping women at a distance as it was, and the one  thing he absolutely didn't need was to offer himself to the highest  bidder. The thought made him shudder. What sort of woman would that  attract? Not the one he was searching for, that was for sure. Recent  events had confirmed his growing suspicion that the woman he wanted  didn't exist in real life.

'Are you sure I can't persuade you?' The night sister giggled. 'You'd  make us a fortune! Well, just in case you change your mind, it's all  happening in the doctors' bar in the basement. You could go and meet  everyone. Half the hospital will be there. Introduce yourself. Buy  yourself a date for the evening!'

Knowing that he had no intention of doing anything of the sort, Andreas  merely smiled politely and reached for the first set of notes.

As he flicked to the first page, he reflected on the strange ways of the  English. Like most of his countrymen, he was aware of the outlandish  behaviour shown by some of the English girls who holidayed in Greece,  but in all his time in various English hospitals he'd never come across a  scenario where staff sold themselves to raise money.                       
       
           



       

Was the NHS really in that much trouble?

With a slight lift of his wide shoulders he dismissed the thought and  proceeded to read the notes on each child, his sharp brain absorbing the  information and filing it away for later.

An hour later he was thoroughly briefed on all the current admissions  and he left the ward quietly, walking along the corridors that led to  the main entrance, hesitating briefly as he reached the stairs that led  down to the doctors' bar in the basement. Loud music drifted up the  stairs, along with catcalls and much whooping and laughter.

Intrigued by the concept of anything so alien as an auction involving  people, Andreas took the stairs and pushed open the door of the bar just  as a leggy blonde sashayed down the improvised catwalk.

He stopped dead, his attention caught.

She was stunning.

Andreas sucked in a breath, his eyes raking over every inch of her  slender, perfectly formed body. As he watched, she tossed her long, wavy  blonde hair over her slim shoulders, her slanting blue eyes glinting as  if she was daring someone to buy her.

She was wearing an almost indecently short pink dress and heels that  were so high he feared for her safety, but she walked with a grace and  elegance that was achingly feminine.



'Lot number 16.' The auctioneer laughed, raising his voice over the howls and wolf whistles. 'What am I bid for our Libby?'

There was a chorus of enthusiastic yells and the blonde rolled her eyes  and grinned, striking an exaggerated pose that took his breath away.

Andreas surveyed her with unashamed lust, oblivious to the admiring  glances he himself was drawing from the other females in the room.

Temporarily forgetting how jaded he was with women, he studied her  closely and came to the conclusion that she was gorgeous. Physically. He  didn't fool himself that her beauty went any deeper than that, but for a  short-term relationship did that really matter? He wasn't inviting her  to be the mother of his children so the intricacies of her personality  were irrelevant.

'Ten pounds,' the auctioneer said. 'Let's start the bidding at £10.'

Andreas glanced at the auctioneer incredulously. Did the man have no idea of value?

'Yes.' A lanky blond man raised an arm and Andreas watched with interest  as the girl's expression froze. All the warmth and humour drained out  of her pretty face and she stared ahead stonily. It was clear to  everyone watching that she didn't want to be purchased by the blond man.

She started moving again, and it was obvious from the way that her eyes  slid frantically around the room that she was searching for someone. She  seemed tense, almost desperate, and then her gaze rested on Andreas.

Startled eyes, as blue as the Aegean sea, widened and stared into his.  Instead of continuing her rhythmic sway down the stage, she stopped  dead, her whole body still, frozen by the connection that sizzled  between them.

Taken aback by the strength of the attraction, Andreas felt his body  tighten in that most primitive of male responses. His arrogant dark head  angled back, he held her gaze, forgetting the recent change to his life  that had fired his resolution to avoid women.

Suddenly all he wanted was her.

Naked. In his bed.

No self-respecting Greek male would allow a woman like her to pass by unscathed.

It would be a criminal waste.

Totally sure of himself, he strolled forward, indifferent to the lustful  female stares he was attracting from all quarters. He was only  interested in one woman and the confidence of his stride made the crowd  part to let him through.

'One thousand pounds.' He delivered his bid coolly, his eyes still  holding hers as he dropped the words into the expectant hush. He'd never  paid for a woman in his life before, but there was no way he was  letting the blond man buy her. Or any other man.

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.