Annie O'Neil

One Night With Dr Nikolaides


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      That was the mystery. She’d never seen him take anything. Not one single solitary time. That was the Theo enigma.

      He might talk the talk of a rich, privileged so-and-so, but she’d always thought the shadows that crossed those sea-green eyes of his betrayed greater depths. Hidden sorrows he’d rather keep secret. He’d never bare the heart behind that insanely touchable chest of his.

      He turned back to her with a smile still playing on his lips. Trust him to be all calm and relaxed amidst a level of mayhem that would have rendered any sane person tearing out their hair.

      “There’s no need for a tour of the clinic. Shall we just get to work?”

      “I think you’re going to want to get out of that top first.”

      “I...uh...” She looked down at the white top she was wearing that had somehow magically acquired a layer of grime and rolled her eyes. Kyros. Her brother had been filthy.

       Oh, good grief. Where’s your spine? Your vocabulary? Use them!

      “It’s not—I’m here to...”

      What is wrong with you?

      A nurse skidded to a halt beside Theo and put a hand on her chest to stop him. Lucky minx.

      “Dr. Nikolaides, we’ve got five patients coming in the next ambulance.”

      “Five!”

      Two pairs of eyes snapped to her.

      “There are only two ambulances on the island. We bring in as many people as they can carry,” Theo explained.

      There was nothing in his voice beyond passing on information. Where was the derision? Why was he taking his time with her? When had he become so...so...extra-perfect?

      Her eyes fixed on Theo’s lips as he spoke to the nurse. On the tip of his tongue as it touched and retreated from the smooth run of teeth save one crooked one just to the left of center that she’d always liked. Yet another slight imperfection that made him mysteriously even more perfect.

      His tongue swept the length of his lower lip before his teeth snagged that lip and pressed down on it while he thought for a moment when the nurse asked where he wanted the patients. It was like being in a slow-motion version of her teenaged fantasies...before the kissing began.

      She watched, still mesmerized, as he released his lip and rattled off a list of updates.

      A Mrs. Carnosi with a broken arm needed to go to Cubicle Three while her plaster set. A man was in Recovery on the first floor after a heart attack—could someone find his wife down at the harbor? She was helping the baker, he thought. A four-year-old with a head wound could probably do with some crayons to pass the time as the televisions weren’t working. All the children, in fact. There were some in a storage locker along with some paper. He was sure of it. Oh, and he’d organized a water delivery so everyone who entered the clinic could be given a two-liter bottle to see them through their waiting time.

      Was there nothing the man hadn’t thought of? All this while also seeing patients? Where was the young man she’d last seen? Arrogant. Elitist. The one who’d turned against her as easily as kicking a door shut. The one who’d compelled her to scrimp and save and study and learn. To leave her homeland pushed by the towering wave of shame that she would never be good enough for a man like him.

      She couldn’t have been wrong about him after all of this time. Could she?

      Theo reached back and gave her shoulder a little pat and a squeeze as another doctor took the nurse’s spot and asked him to run his eye across some X-rays. A compound fracture. Were they up to performing the surgery the patient would require?

      Vividly aware of Theo’s fingers on her shoulder, Cailey was barely capable of lucid thought. Her insides were behaving like electricity cables cut loose in a storm. Sparks flying everywhere. Nothing behaving the way it should.

      She squeezed her eyes tight against the warm olive color of Theo’s skin. His toned physique. The perfect, capable hands touching her.

      Just imagining the man holding a child, helping a yiayia to cross the street with her shopping or explaining to a daredevil teen that he couldn’t go swimming while his arm was still in a plaster made her insides turn into liquid gold.

      Which was all very irritating because she was meant to have become immune to Theo Nikolaides.

      She forced herself to open her eyes and meet the mossy hues of his irises whilst trying her level best to ignore the fact that the man was in possession of the longest, darkest lashes she’d ever seen. He also had more than a five o’clock shadow, but that indicated he’d been working hard and—surprise, surprise—made him look more like a rock star than an unkempt layabout.

      No doubt about it. As a grown man Theo Nikolaides was a living, breathing example of a mortal embodying the majesty of the Greek gods of legend. Zeus, Adonis, Apollo... Eros...

      “Shall we get you out of these things?”

      Theo was looking pointedly at her filthy top, but her thoughts and his tone suggested anything but an innocent need to improve her hygiene.

      Was he...flirting with her?

      This was taking being cool in the eye of a storm to a whole new level.

      Just one lazy scan of her dust-covered body and—poof!—just like that she felt naked. Each sweep of his eyes drew her awareness to the cotton brushing against her belly, her breasts, the tingling between her legs that was really, really inappropriate seeing as she’d vowed to remain immune to the Nikolaides effect. Not to mention the scores of patients waiting.

      Seeing him looking at her the way he was...hungrily...she felt a brand-new array of fireworks light up her insides and actual electricity crackle between them.

      This was all wrong. There was a crisis happening not inches away. People needed help. Patients needed his attention. Her attention.

      He’d never looked at her like this before. As if she were an oasis and he’d crawled in from the desert desperate for one thing and one thing only.

      The sun abruptly lit up the clinic’s central glass dome, its rays filtering down to them through a tumble of rooftop wisteria like film lighting. Dappled. Hints of gold and diamonds.

      When Theo tilted his face, green eyes still locked with hers, it was all she could do not to reach into her chest and give him her heart. It had always been his. He’d just never wanted it.

      Before she could say anything, though, he held out his arm to clear a path for her toward the rear of the clinic.

      Of course the crowd parted. Things like that happened for the Theo Nikolaideses of the world. And the Patera and the Xenakis families. Not to mention the Moustakas family. The four families who commanded the bulk of the island’s wealth thanks to their business savvy.

      Mopaxeni Shipping. The glittering star of the Aegean Seas and beyond. All those businessmen’s sons would inherit untold millions—if not billions. So what on earth was Theo doing here in this small town clinic when the world was his oyster?

      “Aren’t you meant to be—?”

      “Right.” Theo cut her off, directing her to a green door at the far end of the corridor. “In here.”

      She turned and tried to take her bag from him.

      He shook his finger—tick-tock, no, you don’t—in front of her lips. “I’m coming with you.”

      Great. Just what she’d always dreamed of. Death by proximity to the unrequited love of her life.

      She pushed open the swinging door to the changing room. Might as well get it over with.

      * * *

      Theo had absolutely no idea where this cavalier Jack-the-lad