The Greek Children's Doctor (Westerling)

Libby sucked in a breath. Normally she found it impossible to look away from his sexy eyes, but now they were covered she suddenly found herself focusing on his dark jaw. He was staggeringly handsome and she could hardly help to notice the way that every woman who passed stared at him.

‘Appearances matter,’ she said, leaning back in her chair as their drinks arrived. She smiled at the waiter. ‘Could I have a chocolate brownie, please?’

‘Chocolate brownie?’ Andreas lifted an eyebrow and she shrugged carelessly.

‘A girl’s got to have a vice. Mine’s chocolate.’

Andreas gave a slow, sexy smile, his expression concealed by the sunglasses. ‘And is that your only vice, Miss Westerling?’

‘Yes,’ Libby replied firmly, wishing that he would remove the sunglasses. It was unsettling not being able to see his eyes. ‘But it’s a serious one. Now, back to the subject of appearances. You’re right that appearances shouldn’t matter, but they do, I’m afraid. You know that as well as I do. People form an opinion about you within about thirty seconds of meeting you. And when you’re a teenager, the way you look is part of being accepted. Teenagers have a uniform.’

Andreas lifted his cup. ‘And you really think a new haircut will help her make friends?’

‘I think it will be a start. The rest is up to Adrienne. Mmm. Yummy.’ Libby licked her lips as her chocolate brownie arrived and Andreas tensed.

Feeling his gaze on her, Libby felt suddenly hot, every inch of her quivering, female body helplessly aware of the tension that simmered between them.

‘D-don’t look at me like that,’ she muttered, and he lifted an eyebrow.

‘Like what?’

His voice was husky and very male and she knew he was teasing her. Suddenly she found she couldn’t breathe properly.

Being this close to him affected her so badly.

He leaned forward in his chair, his voice soft. ‘How do I look at you, Libby?’

His Greek accent seemed very pronounced and she dropped her eyes, concentrating hard on her cappuccino. It didn’t really help. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel him. ‘You look at me as though you—you wish I was the chocolate brownie,’ she said finally, and he laughed.

‘My vice definitely isn’t chocolate brownies,’ he drawled. ‘And we both know how I look at you. I want you, Libby. I’ve never pretended otherwise. And you want me.’

Her gaze flew to his. ‘I don’t.’

He shrugged carelessly. ‘Yes, you do. You want me every bit as much as I want you. But you’re afraid to admit it.’

Libby bit her lip. It was absolutely true. She was afraid.

She was afraid of what he could do to her. Of what he could make her feel.

‘You are absolutely the last man in the world I’d have a relationship with,’ she said flatly, glaring as yet another nubile female passed and cast a lustful glance at Andreas. ‘Do you realise that every single woman who passes this table looks at you?’

Andreas removed his sunglasses and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘But I’m not looking at them,’ he pointed out quietly, his eyes dropping to her mouth. ‘I’m looking at you, Libby.’

Her heart hammered against her ribs and she was consumed by a sexual excitement so powerful that she squirmed in her seat. She looked at him helplessly, thinking that perhaps it had been easier to control her feelings when he’d had the sunglasses on. He had the sexiest eyes she’d ever seen. What was it about him?

He was sitting on the other side of the table, for goodness’ sake.

He hadn’t even touched her and yet she could feel him with every inch of her body.

She swallowed hard and dragged her gaze away from his face. ‘Well, I don’t want you to look at me,’ she said, stabbing her brownie with more force than was necessary. ‘Do you want some?’

‘What I want is for you to relax with me,’ Andreas said, his tone amused. ‘You are behaving as though I’m a lethal predator and there is absolutely no need. I want you and I refuse to pretend that I don’t, but I have no intention of pouncing on you in the middle of the West End. I’ll wait until you’re ready.’

Awareness warmed her insides. ‘You’re awfully sure of yourself, Dr Christakos.’ Her hands shook slightly and she placed the cup back down on the saucer. ‘What if I’m never ready?’

He gave a slow smile. ‘You will be. And in the meantime I’m enjoying the wait. It serves to intensify the satisfaction when we finally get together.’

His words hung between them and she stared at him wordlessly, wanting to say something cutting but totally mesmerised by the look in his dark eyes.