respiratory rate had increased a little more from the last time he’d checked, which was not a good sign.
“Let’s keep this visit brief, Laurel,” he said, leaning close to speak in her ear. “The more they talk, the harder they have to breathe. Did you say you need to speak to Tom? I’ll wake him and you can ask him a couple quick questions before you go.”
He didn’t want her to feel as if he was rushing her out, but didn’t like the look of either of his patients. He adjusted the oxygen flow to both of them before rousing Tom with enough difficulty that it added another layer of worry.
“How are you feeling, Tom?”
The man opened his eyes and stared up at him, his mouth open, obviously having trouble breathing. “Hard to get air.”
“I know. I just gave you a little more oxygen, which will help.” Damn. Might not be waiting until tomorrow to send them to the Elias Sophia hospital, if they both continued to struggle like this. Andros turned to Laurel, but, before he had to say another word, she obviously got his unspoken message, since she quickly turned to Tom.
“I’m going now, so you two can rest and get better. Real quick, though, is there anything important I need to know about the cave dig that the volunteer crew can’t tell me?”
“Just that we found some human bones. Exciting. Planned…” His chest heaved a few times before he continued. “Planned to share at the next meeting. I think they’re older than the artifacts at the mountain site. Probably… Minoan, but… don’t know… for sure yet.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to the crew and have them bring me up to speed. Don’t worry about a thing.” She patted his shoulder, and Andros stepped behind her to wrap his hands around her lower arms. She looked over her shoulder in surprise, but he couldn’t risk her touching her eyes or pulling down her mask before she’d thoroughly washed her hands.
Her soft hair and enticing scent tickled his nose as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I want you to wash your hands before you touch anything, especially any part of your body. Okay?”
She stared at him, then nodded slowly, saying a quick goodbye to both patients. Still holding on to the delicate wrist of her unbandaged hand, he led her across the room to the sink, squirted soap and stuck her hand under the faucet to wash it.
“I know how to wash my hands, you know.”
“Except you’re a bit handicapped right now. Can’t wash the way you normally would, with one hand bandaged.” As his fingers moved around and between hers, it struck him what an interesting contrast her hand was, like the woman herself. Slender, delicate, feminine fingers that were also hardworking and strong. “I want to make sure it’s clean. The skin exposed on your other hand too, before I change the bandage.”
“Change it? You just put it on.”
“‘Know Thyself’ is one of the famous inscriptions at the temple.” He kept washing, slowly now, enjoying too much the sensual feel of their hands soapily sliding together as he looked up at her, noticing the interesting flecks of green and gold in her questioning blue eyes. “My yiayia used to call me Kyrie Prosektikos, which means Mr. Careful. I believe in thinking things through and being appropriately cautious.” Which had been true except for one notable aspect of his life he was determined to change. “So, yeah, I’m going to put on a new bandage.”
“I’d say three bandages in an hour is careful, all right. If that doesn’t sterilize it, nothing will.”
He liked her smile. That she didn’t roll her eyes or argue with him told him she trusted him, at least a little, to know what he was doing. “Glad to see you aren’t doubting my doctoring skills anymore. Some of the tourists who come to this clinic never are convinced I know what I’m doing.”
“What makes you think I’m convinced? Maybe I can just see you’re hard-headed and bossy, and I don’t have time to argue with you.”
“Smart woman. You’re right that I’d damned well get tough with you if I had to.”
“Just remember I can get tough too. If I have to.”
“Somehow, I don’t doubt that for a second.”
They stood there looking at one another, small smiles on their faces, before Andros realized he was just holding her hand in his, now, fingers entwined. He managed to refocus his attention on the job at hand instead of her captivating face and eyes, and very kissable lips.
Dried off and newly bandaged, Laurel paused as she was about to head out of the clinic door. “I’m worried, Andros.”
He realized he liked the sound of his name on her tongue a lot better than the formal Dr. Drakoulias. When she looked up at him, her face filled with concern, he wished he could tell her she didn’t need to be. But he was worried as well. “I know. I’m doing everything I can and will let you know how they are tomorrow. I’m planning to spend the night here to keep an eye on them. You have a cell-phone number I can call?”
“Reception is sketchy at the dig, but if you leave a message, I’ll be able to get it when I’m back at the hotel.” She scribbled her number on a piece of paper and pressed it into his palm, lingering there. “Promise to call me?”
“I promise.” He folded his fingers over hers, squeezing gently to reassure her. It took effort to release her soft hand, to let her go. He stood there, motionless, to watch her walk to her car. Watch the gentle sway of her hips, the way her dress swung sensuously with each step of her drop-dead gorgeous legs. Watch the way her long silky ponytail caressed her back, until she’d gotten in her car and driven away.
He tucked the paper into his pocket and had a feeling he’d be tempted to call just to talk to her more about the dig. Just to hear her voice.
Which was foolish. The Wagners had told him the dig would be permanently over in just a few weeks and they’d be gone. She’d be gone.
Why did it have to be Laurel who was the first woman he’d felt this kind of interest in since he’d come home? The kind of interest that had his mind and body all stirred up. The kind of interest that made him want to take her to dinner, to wrap his arms around her, to touch her and kiss her and see where it led.
He squeezed the back of his suddenly tight neck and sighed. He had every intention of living the life of a model citizen—and a good father—putting behind him the wild reputation of his youth. Last thing he needed was attraction to a woman who would be leaving soon, tempting him to enjoy a quickie affair that would grease the town gossip machine all over again. Gossip he didn’t want his daughter to have to hear about her dad.
He’d keep his distance. But he couldn’t deny that the thought of spending even a short time with interesting and beautiful Laurel Evans sounded pretty irresistible.
“I know it’s early, Dimitri.” Andros paced up and down the hall of the clinic as he spoke to the infection specialist, barely noticing the dawn that rose over the mountain, filling the sky with pink and gold. “I wish I’d sent them last night. I wanted to give them time to possibly stabilize, but their respiratory rate’s gone to thirty and forty breaths per minute. New chest films show dramatic worsening to progressive multilobar pneumonia.”
“What’s their oxygen saturation?” Dimitri asked.
“Both were hypoxic
