The Greek Children's Doctor(3)

By: Sarah Morgan



The man was married. And he’d lied to her.

‘Did you manage to get any extra help for tomorrow?’ She knew that the staffing situation was dire.

Bev shook her head gloomily. ‘The nursing situation is bad, but fortunately the new consultant starts on Monday so at least we should finally have some more medical support.’

Libby nodded. They’d been a consultant short and that had put tremendous pressure on everyone.

‘I’ll come in early tomorrow,’ she offered, and Bev bit her lip.

‘I can’t ask you to do that, you’ve worked a double shift today…’

‘You didn’t ask. I volunteered.’

Bev leaned forward and gave her a hug. ‘You’re brilliant, and if I were a man I’d definitely buy you.’

‘And then you’d go home and sleep with a woman who turns out to be a wife that you conveniently forgot to mention,’ Libby said dryly. ‘So tell me—is the new consultant a woman or a rat?’

Bev laughed. ‘He’s a man, if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘Oh well, you can’t have everything.’

With a wistful smile Libby stroked the baby’s smooth cheek and then laid her carefully back in her cot, tucking the sheet around her.

The baby was so beautiful. It made her terribly broody, caring for her, and she would have loved one of her own.

It was just a shame that having a baby required contact with a man.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Andreas Christakos strolled onto the ward, six feet three of broad-shouldered, drop-dead-handsome Greek male.

The night sister, confronted by this unexpected vision of raw, masculine virility, dropped the pile of sheets she was carrying and lost her powers of speech.

Acknowledging that it probably hadn’t been quite fair of him to arrive unannounced, Andreas extended a lean, bronzed hand and introduced himself.

The night sister paled slightly. ‘You’re the new consultant? We weren’t exactly expecting you…’ She stooped to pick up the sheets, visibly flustered by his unscheduled appearance. ‘Did you want to see—? I mean, it seems a little late—’



‘I merely came to familiarise myself with the whereabouts of the ward,’ he assured her smoothly, his eyes flickering over the walls which were covered in brightly coloured children’s paintings. ‘I don’t officially start until Monday.’

She clutched the sheets to her chest and looked relieved. ‘That’s what I thought. Good. Well, please, help yourself to the notes trolley—they’re all there and any X-rays are underneath. We’re pretty quiet for once, so everyone’s slipped off to the auction,’ the night sister told him. ‘They’ll be back when it finishes—or sooner if I call them.’

’Auction?’ Andreas frowned as he repeated the word. He’d always thought his English was fluent but he found himself very unsure about what she was describing. Surely an auction involved paintings or other valuable artefacts?

‘We’re selling a date with each member of staff to raise money to buy equipment for our new playroom.’

Andreas, traditional and Greek to the very backbone, struggled with this concept. They were selling dates?

Aware that she was waiting for some sort of response, he dealt her a sizzling smile. ‘It sounds like a novel way to raise money.’

‘It is.’ She looked at him for a moment and then smiled cheekily, her nervousness vanishing. ‘You’re very good-looking. Perhaps you should consider auctioning yourself.’

The smile froze on his face. ‘I don’t think so.’

He had enough trouble keeping women at a distance as it was, and the one thing he absolutely didn’t need was to offer himself to the highest bidder. The thought made him shudder. What sort of woman would that attract? Not the one he was searching for, that was for sure. Recent events had confirmed his growing suspicion that the woman he wanted didn’t exist in real life.

‘Are you sure I can’t persuade you?’ The night sister giggled. ‘You’d make us a fortune! Well, just in case you change your mind, it’s all happening in the doctors’ bar in the basement. You could go and meet everyone. Half the hospital will be there. Introduce yourself. Buy yourself a date for the evening!’

Knowing that he had no intention of doing anything of the sort, Andreas merely smiled politely and reached for the first set of notes.

As he flicked to the first page, he reflected on the strange ways of the English. Like most of his countrymen, he was aware of the outlandish behaviour shown by some of the English girls who holidayed in Greece, but in all his time in various English hospitals he’d never come across a scenario where staff sold themselves to raise money.

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