The Greek Children’s Doctor

By: Sarah Morgan

‘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.’