The Greek Children's Doctor

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 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.