The Greek Children's Doctor(7)

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.'