Tina Beckett

Tempted By Dr Patera


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did he know the clinic receptionist’s name? Although most of the islanders in this area seemed to know each other.

      And now he was flipping through those patient sheets once again. “I don’t see a list of symptoms or injuries.”

      “There isn’t one. Things got too chaotic, trying to separate them out, so we just did triage, taking the critical patients first. We put the ones who were stable but needed a specialist in a secondary waiting area in the Serenity Gardens.”

      Facing the ocean, the courtyard led to a spacious garden that faced the sea. Lea’s tiny treatment area had been carved out of a dead-end path, shielded on two sides by vine-covered trellises.

      It was the perfect place for her to see patients who needed to work through what they’d experienced during the quake. It was wonderful, and restful, and despite the tragedy she loved what she was doing there. More than she’d ever dreamed possible.

      The people in the waiting area weren’t the only ones who needed to be grounded. She’d come to Greece to do just that. And had ended up on the island just as the quake hit. She’d stayed to help.

      Her attention came back with a bump when the man in front of her made a slight scoffing noise.

      “What?”

      “Nothing.”

      It was then that she realized she still didn’t know who he was. He could be a psychiatric patient for all she knew. “Do you need to leave a message for Petra?”

      He frowned. “Is Theo—Dr. Nikolaides—back yet?”

      Theo had just gotten engaged. His whirlwind romance with Cailey had been a bright spot for the clinic, and probably one of the reasons why there were more people than normal here. It was as if folks wanted to catch a glimpse of the couple—live vicariously through those who had been able to find happiness in the midst of tragedy. Cailey was also nearly two months pregnant, and the baby had become a symbol of hope.

      “He’s taking a much-needed personal day. Did you have a consultation scheduled with him?”

      Maybe he actually was a patient.

      “Not exactly.” One side of his mouth went up in a half-smile that sent her pulse tripping over itself. “He called me. Basically said I was an emotionless so-and-so if I didn’t come home as soon as I could.”

      Home...

       Home?

      Then she swallowed—hard—an awful suspicion crashing like a boulder in the pit of her stomach. “You live here?”

      His smile widened and he let the papers fall back into place as he turned toward her. “I don’t live in the clinic, if that’s what you mean.”

      “No, I don’t mean that, I just...” She was at a loss for words—which was unusual, since talking was what she was paid to do. What she loved to do. No, it wasn’t the words. It was the listening...the empathizing...the helping that she loved.

      Although she couldn’t help everyone.

      Her eyes closed as a shot of pain punched through her chest.

       No, don’t think about that. Not now.

      Something touched her hand. “Hey. Are you okay?”

      “Yes.” She forced herself to smile. “I’m just tired. And I forgot to ask who you are.”

      “Of course. Sorry, I just always assume that everyone knows who I am.” Something dark slithered through his brown eyes. Then it was gone again as quickly as it had come. “I’m Deakin Patera. I’m one of the four founding partners of the clinic.”

       Ack!

      God, she should have realized. Theo had said Dr. Patera was due to arrive in the next couple of days. She just hadn’t expected someone who looked like he’d stepped straight off the cover of a wilderness backpacking magazine. He could have told her who he was sooner. Emphasized his medical title like she had.

      She wasn’t even sure why she’d done that. Maybe because she’d expected him to talk down to her like a few colleagues had over the years. But those people had been few and far between.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you.”

      He dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. It’s been a long flight, and it’s not like our portraits are on the walls or anything. Thank God.”

      What an odd thing to say. She smiled. “Maybe they should be. Your reputations seem to be known far and wide.”

      The softness to his eyes disappeared. “I’m sure they are.”

      Those four words might have come across as arrogant boasting if not for the strange tone in which they were said. It was as if he despised that fact.

      “I don’t understand.”

      “It’s nothing.” His glance turned to the occupants of the room. “Where do we begin?”

      The words to a famous old musical song came to mind, but there was no way she was breaking into song. Not around this particular man. Besides she couldn’t compete with the likes of Julie Andrews.

      “A lot of these people are just meeting friends and family here.” She nodded at the foursome who were even now passing through the wooden and glass doors off to the left. “The clinic seems to have become almost as much of a meeting place as Stavros’s taverna. And, since the bar is within walking distance, it makes it ideal.”

      With its traditional white stucco exterior and well-manicured gardens to the side of it, the clinic was a beautiful building, combining old-world charm with all the modern amenities of a medical facility. The Serenity Gardens boasted many nooks and crannies, ideal for intimate conversations, and benches were sprinkled along a curving walkway which was wide enough for wheelchairs and yet rustic enough to invite exploring. A white sea wall and a boat dock were newer additions.

      “I can see that. Theo always did want this place to be more than just a medical clinic. Hence the so-called Tranquility Gardens.”

      “They’re called the Serenity Gardens, and it doesn’t sound like you approve of the addition.”

      He shrugged, his dark shirt pulling tight over muscular shoulders. Shoulders her eyes had no business lingering on. She hauled her attention back to his face.

      “It’s not that I disapprove,” he said. “I just don’t believe a manufactured place can bring tranquility. Serenity,” he corrected. His smile came back, although the left side of his mouth didn’t quite lift as high as the other. “Although Theo is convinced it can.”

      “I think it can as well. It’s where I see most of my patients.”

      “How does that work? Did Theo put an exam room out there?”

      The image of a hospital bed nestled between the flower pots made her smile back. “No. Not yet, anyway. I use the exam rooms, obviously, for physical investigation, but the garden is much more conducive to talking things through.”

      “Things? Such as unfavorable diagnoses?”

      “Not exactly. I guess this is where I should say that I’m a psychiatrist.” She held up her hands. “No couch jokes, please.”

      His head jerked back, a muscle in his jaw twitching for a second before going still. “Couch jokes are the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. Theo hired you?”

      She bit her lip. Maybe the Serenity Gardens wasn’t the only thing Dr. Patera would disapprove of. “I just happened to be on the island when the earthquake hit. I stayed to help. It’s on a volunteer basis at the moment.”

      “The quake happened over a month ago. What about your own practice?”

      It was