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-'