Her Greek Doctor's Proposal. Robin Gianna

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Her Greek Doctor's Proposal - Robin Gianna Mills & Boon Medical

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sign for Kastorini was in both Greek and English, thank goodness. Laurel turned off the highway, concentrating on driving the steeply curving road that sported the occasional rock that had rolled down from the mountainside. And the term “hairpin curve”? Now she knew exactly what that meant.

      If she hadn’t already been sweating from the heat, this crazy trek would have done it. The road finally flattened and swooped toward a thick stone archway flanked by high, obviously ancient walls, and passing through it was like entering a different world. One minute she was driving with the mountain soaring on one side and dropping off on the other, the next she was surrounded by stone and stucco buildings sporting terracotta rooftops and draped with vines and magenta bougainvillea. Cheerful pots of flowers lined balconies and sat by inviting front doors. Farther down the narrow, cobbled street, men with small cups of coffee relaxed on patios in front of several tavernas, engaged in lively conversation as they watched her drive by.

      The utter charm of the place made Laurel smile. And as Andros had promised, she easily spotted the ancient-looking clock tower and found the medical clinic with a few bona fide parking spaces right in front of it.

      The building looked as old as the rest of Kastorini, and she wasn’t sure what to expect when she went inside. A small, fairly modern-looking waiting room was currently empty, but within moments a young woman appeared.

      “May I help you?” she asked.

      The fact that, right away, the woman spoke English instead of Greek, proved Laurel’s foreignness was more than obvious, though she’d accepted months ago that she didn’t exactly blend in as a local.

      “Hello. I’m Laurel Evans, working with the Wagners. I believe they’re patients here? Dr. Drakoulias told me I could come see them.”

      “Ah, yes.” Her pleasant smile faded to seriousness. “He is with a patient right now and wanted to talk to you before you see them. I am Christina, one of the nurses here. I will take you to Dr. Drakoulias’s office.”

      Laurel followed the woman down the hallway. A side door opened, and she immediately recognized the deep rumble of Dr. Drakoulias’s voice.

      She couldn’t follow many of his quickly spoken Greek words, but saw his hand was cupped beneath the elbow of a stooped-over elderly woman as they stepped from what looked like an examination room, obviously helping her stay steady as she walked. A small frown creased his brow just as it had when he’d been looking at Laurel’s gash.

      Whatever the woman said in return made him laugh, banishing the frown and making him look younger. His eyes twinkled as he shook his head, saying something else in a teasing tone, making her laugh in return. She lifted a gnarled hand to his cheek and gave it a pat, then a pinch that looked as if it had to hurt, but he didn’t seem fazed.

      Christina was chuckling too, as she took hold of the woman’s other arm to walk with her back down the hall.

      Laurel wanted to ask what the woman had said that was so amusing, and if she always pinched people like that, but didn’t want to sound nosy. Dr. Drakoulias turned his attention to Laurel, and she felt the power of those eyes and that magnetic smile clear down to her toes. “Very punctual, I see. In my experience, the workers on the dig usually show up late. Or not at all.”

      “I admit it’s easy to get distracted up there. But I had to learn fast how to keep track of time.” Her own and everyone else’s.

      “So apparently you didn’t find a gold statue today.”

      Her heart lurched hard in her chest and she stared at him, relaxing when she realized he was just kidding. “Not today, I’m afraid.”

      “Just so you know, I’d consider that a good reason to miss an appointment.” He gave her a teasing smile that sent her attention to his beautiful mouth, which was not a good place for it to be. Thankfully, he reached for her hand and she followed his gaze to the new bandage. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

      “It’s all right, really. I put peroxide on it and a clean bandage.”

      He grasped her elbow and walked to the sink, her injured hand still in his. “That’s good, but I’d like to clean it again, nonetheless. Better to prevent an infection than have to treat one.”

      She couldn’t argue with that, and again watched his fingers gently and carefully remove the bandage. He looked closely at her palm for a long moment before he spoke. “It’s going to hurt a little, I’m sorry to say, but thoroughly washing this out is important. Are you ready?”

      She nodded and braced herself as he turned on the faucet, holding the open cut directly underneath the cool stream. He was right, it definitely hurt, but no way was she going to be a baby about it. Biting her lip, she’d have sworn he about drained the town’s entire water supply and was just about to yell, Enough already! when he finally turned it off.

      He wrapped her hand with a towel and gently dried it. “You were very brave. I appreciate that you didn’t scream in my ear like the last patient I did that to.”

      The eyes that met hers held a pleasing mix of humor, warmth and admiration in their dark depths. “I reserve screaming for activities that truly warrant it,” she said. Then wanted to sink into the floor when his eyebrows lifted and something else mingled with the humor in his eyes. “Things like bungee-jumping, for example,” she added hastily.

      “I see. So you’re a daredevil.”

      “Um, not really.” Not about to admit she wouldn’t bungee-jump unless her life depended on it, and definitely wouldn’t admit the direction her thoughts had suddenly gone, she quickly changed the subject. “What is that stuff you’re putting on there?”

      “Just a topical antibiotic.” With nowhere else to look, her gaze again got stuck on his face instead of his work on her hand. On his dark lashes, lowered over his eyes; his ridiculously sculpted cheekbones; his lips twisting a little as he wrapped white gauze over the cut. “This gauze bandage will keep it clean and dry, but I’d like to check it in a couple days.”

      “It’ll be fine. Thank you.” It suddenly struck her that she probably needed to pay him. “What do I owe you, Dr. Drakoulias?”

      “First, I’d like you to call me Andros, since Dr. Drakoulias reminds me of my father and I don’t want to feel old around a beautiful woman. Second, I’m the one who insisted on treating you, so it’s on the house. I might get a bad reputation if I chase ambulances, then hand unsuspecting patients a bill.”

      She had to grin at the picture that conjured, and the smile in his eyes and on his lips grew in response. “So if anybody on the dig team gets hurt, I need to find a way to lure you to the site, then when your Hippocratic Oath kicks in, we’ll get free medical care? Good to know.”

      “I’m pretty sure you’d have no trouble at all luring me there.”

      Did he mean, because he was interested in archaeology? Or something else altogether? After all, he’d called her “beautiful.” She shoved aside the intriguing question, reminding herself she had work to focus on, and luring dreamy Dr. Drakoulias couldn’t be on the agenda, even if he was willing to be lured.

      Though the thought alone put a hitch in her breath and sent a little electric zing from the top of her head to her toes.

      “Are we going to see Mel and Tom now? Where are they?”

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