lost their baby. The baby she hadn’t even known about until after he’d left for New York.
She’d tried to tell him, but he hadn’t returned her calls.
So she’d borne that pain alone.
She hated him. He was the reason she didn’t date anyone—ever. She’d put her career first because she was never going to make that mistake again.
Her heart was hardened.
You don’t hate him. Not really.
Yet here he was. Standing in front of her in clinic scrubs and looking just as good as the day he’d left her all those years ago. His thick dark hair still perfect. Those dark eyes still with that twinkle in them. And even though he wasn’t smiling, just seeing his chiseled handsome face made her go weak in the knees all over again.
No. Don’t let him have any power over you.
It had taken her a long time to get over Christos after he’d put his career over her. She’d made her peace with that, and even though she’d blown her chance with Mayo, she’d never blown another one.
And now she was one of the attending surgeons with International Relief. She had a lot of responsibility. Maybe she had him to thank for that—for focusing her mind on her career instead of on him.
Still, she was not happy he was here. Of all the places in the world, why did he have to be here in Mythelios?
Good gravy, why did he have to be here?
She’d been assigned to work between Athens and Mythelios as a surgeon for the next couple of months. When she’d come to Athens in July, she’d gone to the clinic a couple of times, and Chris hadn’t been there. Of course, during the first part of her assignment in Greece, she hadn’t spent a lot of time in Mythelios, since most of the seriously wounded from the earthquake had been sent to Athens.
And now that she was going to be spending more of her time lending a hand at the clinic, rather than working in the city, he was here—and he was in scrubs as if he belonged here.
You haven’t said one word since he asked you what you’re doing here. Speak!
“What’re you doing here?” she asked.
Oh, my Lord in heaven, that was the most pathetic...
She cringed inwardly, because she really didn’t know what else to say.
“This is where I’m from. I’ve come back here because my grandmother died and I inherited her home. Also, this is the clinic I helped found with a few friends of mine. I thought since I was here I would spend some time working here.”
“I’ve been in Greece since last month and I haven’t seen you here at the clinic before—and you haven’t been mentioned by anyone,” she said.
“I’ve been busy dealing with the passing of my grandmother.”
“I had no idea you were from here.”
“We didn’t do much talking when we were together.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he said that.
She groaned. Of course... She quickly jogged through all those memories—which were mostly of hot, passion-filled nights. He had once mentioned coming from a small Greek island and helping to found a charitable clinic, but of all the charitable clinics in all of Greece why did she have to walk into this one?
It’s simple. You’re cursed.
That was what her father’s mother had said, the one and only time she’d met her when she was fourteen. She’d told her that she was cursed by the gods because she had forsaken her father’s heritage and was doomed.
Naomi hadn’t given it much credence then, but after meeting Dr. Christos Moustakas four years ago, and having her heart completely trampled on a bare year later, she was beginning to believe her grandmother’s words.
She was cursed.
And this just proved it.
“I work with International Relief. I’m here to help on the island after the earthquake. Mythelios and Athens is my assignment for the next couple of months. I’m a general surgeon, and I also raise funds to cover the cost of surgeries for those who can’t afford it. The earthquake’s damage is wreaking havoc on people.”
A smug grin spread across his face. “Is that so? I hadn’t heard that.”
“Yes,” she said firmly, annoyed with him. She clutched the file she was holding tight to her chest. “Dr. Nikolaides did mention to me that a new surgeon would be coming today, but he didn’t mention it was you.”
“Would that have made a difference?” he asked.
“Yes, of course it would! I’m not happy about this, Dr. Moustakas.”
You’re supposed to be in New York.
Out of sight and out of mind. Except that was easier said than done. He’d completely crushed her heart. She didn’t trust men anymore, thanks to him.
She’d been head over heels in love with Chris. He’d even gotten her pregnant. But he’d made it clear that his career was more important to him than she could ever be. He’d broken things off, and although she’d tried to contact him to tell him about the baby, she’d lost it only a few short weeks after he’d left for New York.
It had destroyed her.
She’d been alone, heartbroken and mad at herself for getting involved with Chris in the first place when she’d known that he’d never wanted anything serious. She’d fallen for his charms. She’d been a fool.
It had taken her this long to pick herself up. To put herself back together. Seeing him again was the very last thing she needed, but it was clear that he was going to stay here and she was just going to have to suck it up and work in the same physical space with him. But that didn’t mean they had to work together.
This island was big enough for the both of them.
Oh, who are you kidding?
“Well,” Chris said, breaking the tense silence and running a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry that you’re not happy about this, Naomi...”
“Dr. Hudson.”
“What?” he asked, dazed, and for the first time she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping.
“Dr. Hudson is how I wish to be referred to by you. We’re not on a first-name basis. Not anymore.”
His eyes narrowed and he frowned, crossing his arms.
He was annoyed by that.
Good.
“Fine. Dr. Hudson, do you think we can work together and remain professional?”
“Of course we can, Dr. Moustakas.”
She was relieved—or she should be relieved. Except that she wasn’t. Not really.
This is what you want, remember?
“Good, because I really am exhausted and I don’t have the energy for games. I’ve had enough games to last a lifetime.”
Her blood boiled and she could feel a flush rise in her cheeks. “I’m very aware of your games, Dr. Moustakas. Trust me.”
“I don’t have time for this,” he snapped. He pushed past her and headed to the back where the staff room was. “I need coffee.”
She turned and followed him, feeling bad. He was in the back lounge, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He rolled his eyes and groaned when he saw that she’d followed him.
“I’m sorry,” she said tentatively.