The Greek Children’s Doctor

By: Sarah Morgan

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.
They were snuggled close to her, listening avidly as she read, one of them holding onto her hand and another settled comfortably on her lap.
She was a little pale, but apart from that she looked none the worse for her excesses of the night before.
In fact, she looked incredibly beautiful and desire slammed through him again.
Bev appeared by his side. ‘I told you she’d be here,’ she said airily, and relieved him of the notes. ‘Don’t disturb her now. That toddler has been screaming since he woke up. We were all at our wits’ end. We’ve given him painkillers but they didn’t help. He needed comfort and that’s Libby’s speciality.’
Was it?
Andreas stared, his attention held by Libby who was laughing at something one of the children had said. She was gentle and smiley and thoroughly at home with the children. Frankly, it wasn’t what he’d expected. Having seen her on the stage, he’d expected shallow and frivolous and what he was seeing was something completely different.

He watched, feeling something shift inside him. After his recent experiences, he’d given up on meeting a woman who found children anything other than a nuisance.
‘She’s good with them.’ His soft observation drew Bev’s glance.
‘Yeah, she’s better than most drugs. No one cheers the children up like Libby,’ she told him. ‘She’s the best. This ward would have collapsed without her. She does the work of three.’
As they watched, the little boy snuggled closer and Libby curved an arm around him and cuddled him closer.
She was a natural storyteller, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm and mischief as she emphasised the drama and held their attention.
She’d just got to the part where the wolf fell into the hot water when she looked up and saw him, her eyes widening with recognition. Her gaze slid to Bev in silent question and her cheeks turned pink with mortification as understanding dawned.
Bev gave a weak smile and shrugged helplessly.
‘More.’ The toddler tugged her arm, frustrated that the story had stopped and oblivious to the drama being played out around him. ‘Want more story.’
Libby swallowed, obediently croaked her way to the end and then scrambled to her feet, Marcus still in her arms.
Bev cleared her throat. ‘This is Andreas Christakos, the new consultant.’ She spoke in a bright, professional voice that did nothing to alleviate the tension in the air. ‘Andreas, this is Elizabeth Westerling. We call her Libby. I think you’ve already met each other…’ Her voice trailed off slightly, and Libby closed her eyes briefly, her cheeks still pink with embarrassment.
One of the little girls tugged at her clothes. ‘I need the toilet, Libby.’
‘I’ll take you, sweetheart,’ Bev said quickly, catching her by the hand, obviously eager to find an excuse to get away.
Another little boy stepped closer. ‘Is that the end of the story?’
Dragging her gaze away from his, Libby glanced down and managed a smile. ‘For now. I’ve got to do some work.’
‘Can we have another story later?’
‘Maybe. If there’s time.’ She stroked Marcus’s hair and put him back in his cot. She looked pale from lack of sleep and there were dark rings under her eyes but her beauty still took Andreas’s breath away.
There were sparks of accusation in her eyes as she turned to face him. ‘Well, that was a pretty dirty trick.’
He lifted an eyebrow quizzically and she glared at him coldly.
‘Not telling me you were the new consultant.’
‘You didn’t ask me. In fact, you didn’t even ask my name. You just passed out on me,’ he pointed out mildly, enjoying the blush that warmed her cheeks. She had incredible skin. Smooth and creamy and untouched by the harshness of the sun.
‘But you knew who I was,’ she said accusingly. ‘You knew I worked on the ward.’
‘There was a strong chance of it.’ He lifted a broad shoulder. ‘So?’
She stared at him incredulously. ‘Didn’t you think that it might be embarrassing? Do you always mix business with pleasure?’
He gave a smile that was totally male. ‘That,’ he said slowly, ‘depends on the extent of the pleasure.’
‘Right.’ She stared at him for a long moment and then looked away, her chest rising and falling rapidly. ‘Well, at least I can save myself postage. Your shirt is in my locker.’
‘My shirt?’
‘The shirt you dressed me in, Dr Christakos.’ Her voice was loaded with accusation. ‘When I was asleep. Remember?’
Of course he remembered.
He remembered every delectable inch of her. ‘I didn’t think you’d be very comfortable sleeping in that pink thing. It seemed a little tight.’

‘Excuse me?’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘I’m supposed to be grateful that you undressed me?’
‘Calm down,’ he drawled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. ‘I kept my eyes closed the whole time. Well—most of the time.’