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The Greek Children's Doctor. Sarah MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Greek Children's Doctor - Sarah Morgan


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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.’

      Libby’s mouth tightened and she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the treatment room.

      ‘I think we’d better get a few things straight.’ Her blue eyes flashed at him as she let the doors swing closed behind her. ‘I only allowed you to buy me because I thought my brother had sent you. I had no intention of going on a date with anyone.’

      ‘You’re angry because I bought you?’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘You would have preferred me to have stood aside and let the blond man buy you?’

      She stiffened slightly. ‘No, of course not.’

      ‘I seem to remember you holding onto me pretty tightly last night.’

      His dark eyes glittered with amusement and she coloured. ‘Yes, well, at the time I thought you were rescuing me.’

      ‘I was.’

      She glanced at him impatiently. ‘You know what I mean! I thought my brother had sent you.’

      He shrugged carelessly. ‘He didn’t, but I don’t see the problem.’

      ‘There is no problem, providing you take the £1000 back,’ she said, and he smiled.

      ‘I don’t want the money,’ he said smoothly. ‘I paid for a date and that’s what I want.’

      And this time he was going to take the kiss to its natural conclusion.

      She lifted her chin. ‘And do you always get what you want?’

      He smiled. ‘Always.’

      She sucked in a breath, looking slightly taken aback. ‘Well, you won’t on this occasion. I don’t date men.’

      Andreas leaned broad shoulders against the wall and tried to adjust to the fact that he’d just been turned down by a woman. It was a totally new experience.

      ‘So…’ He shrugged casually. ‘You get to know me a little, and then you say yes.’

      Her mouth fell open. ‘Confident, aren’t you?’

      ‘Remember the fireworks, Libby.’

      She stilled and her eyes connected with his. For a long moment she stared at him and then she swallowed and backed away, hoping that distance would cure the fluttering in her stomach. ‘Leave me alone. I’m very grateful that you rescued me from Philip last night and I’m grateful that you took me home when I was in a less than coherent state—’

      ‘You were drunk,’ he slotted in helpfully, and she winced.

      ‘I hadn’t eaten anything all day and I had one vodka—apparently.’ She rubbed slim fingers across her temple as if the memory alone was enough to inflict a headache. ‘It was hidden in the orange juice.’

      Hidden?

      ‘Anyway.’ She looked at him warily. ‘It’s history now.’

      His gaze slid down her slim body, noting that she was trembling and that her hands were clenched into fists by her sides.

      Despite her protests, it was blindingly obvious that she was as strongly affected by their encounter as he’d been, and it was hardly surprising. The chemistry between them was overwhelmingly powerful.

      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


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