The Greek Children's Doctor (Westerling)

Libby gave a weak smile. She couldn’t actually believe she had a whole week off. ‘You can’t fire me. I’m your slave labour.’

Bev didn’t laugh. ‘You’ve lost your sparkle and bubble,’ she said quietly. ‘You’ve been working too hard, Lib. Have a rest.’

Libby didn’t say anything. It was true that she was tired, but the truth was her sparkle had gone because she was so disappointed about Andreas. She’d really believed that he was interested in her, but evidently she’d been wrong again.

Apart from that one conversation the morning after, he’d made no attempt to see her since the ball.

All right, so she’d been avoiding him, but he hadn’t been that difficult to avoid.

Wondering whether he would even notice that she wasn’t around, she went to her locker, retrieved her bag and made her way to the car park, feeling flat and miserable.

A low black sports car pulled up next to her and she sucked in a breath.

Andreas.

He leaned across to open the passenger door, his expression serious. ‘Get in, Libby.’

She stared at him blankly. ‘Why? Where are we going?’

‘Just get in.’

Something about the urgency in his tone prevented her from arguing and she slid into the passenger seat, glancing at him in alarm as he sped away before she’d even finished fastening her seat belt.

‘What’s happening? Is something wrong?’ Suddenly she felt cold fingers of panic touch her spine. ‘Is it Katy? Or Alex?’

He covered her hand briefly with his. ‘They’re both fine. And nothing’s wrong.’

‘So why are you picking me up? It’s not even lunchtime.’ She looked at him in confusion. ‘And what’s the urgency?’

He glanced at the clock and muttered something in Greek. ‘We are going to be late.’

‘Late for what?’

But he wouldn’t answer her. He just stared at the road and drove as quickly as safety allowed, weaving his way through the London traffic until he hit the motorway that led out of town.

‘Andreas.’ Libby cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Where are we going?’

He gave her a sideways glance. ‘We’re going on that date you owe me.’

Date?

He flicked the indicator and took the exit road that led to the airport and she lifted a hand to her aching head, totally confused.

‘What date? Why are we at the airport?’

Andreas pulled up outside the terminal building and shifted in his seat so that he was facing her.

‘You still owe me that date, Libby,’ he said softly, lifting a hand to cup her face. ‘I’m claiming it now. You’ve got a week off. You’re spending it with me.’

She opened her mouth to speak but he was already out of the car, handing his keys to a man in a uniform and removing two bags from the boot.

Libby recognised one of the bags as hers.

She leapt out of the car, waiting while he paid the man and signalled for a porter.

‘You packed a bag for me?’ She stared at him incredulously and he shrugged.