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.
'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.'