Unsettling was an understatement. But also energizing? Good? Bad?
She wasn’t sure.
Annalise stood a bit taller and smoothed down the lab coat she’d thrown over the chocolate-brown tailored slacks and matching loose blouse she’d changed into.
She felt acutely aware of herself as a woman, an awareness she always pushed down the list behind physician the minute she donned her lab coat.
What was happening to her?
Why now? Why him—okay, that one was easy. How could any woman not fail to go into immediate estrogen overload with him in such close proximity?
He held a notebook. The masculinity of his hand contrasted drastically with the notebook cover, which was totally overlaid with pink glittery stickers.
“Hi, again.” He stuck out his free right hand. “Niko Christopoulos, and this is my niece, Sophie.”
Sophie wore a baby-blue sailor dress with a large white collar and red cowgirl boots. Annalise could imagine the conversation between this little girl with the adorable stubborn jaw and the person who had helped her dress.
She took Niko’s hand, long-fingered and large enough to engulf hers, and that fluttery feeling intensified to an erratic quivering that grew as the seconds ticked by.
Using all her willpower, she made herself hold tight when she wanted to jerk back.
Then he quirked his eyebrow and glanced at their bonded hands.
How was she going to handle this?
Her fallback answer. Professionalism.
She released his hand and used her best patient care smile she’d practiced so hard to perfect. “Welcome, Sophie. I’m Dr. Walcott.”
“Uncle Niko is a doctor, too.”
“Really?” That didn’t surprise her. With his composure, Annalise was sure Niko Christopoulos could be anything he wanted to be.
Annalise squatted down to eye level with her patient, which gave her a good view of Niko Christopoulos’ expensive shoes. “And what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“A cook, of course. That’s what we all are—except for Uncle Niko.” She said it as if becoming a doctor instead of a cook was the most rebellious thing a man could do.
Niko shifted, causing Annalise to look up.
His eyes were tense and his mouth bracketed at the corners. “That’s not true, Sophie. Your mother is studying to become a nurse.”
“And my dad says it’s all your fault.”
He gave a deep, sad sigh as he held out his hand to help Annalise stand. “Maybe I should start over. Niko Christopoulos, black sheep of the family.”
Annalise wanted to make up an excuse to ignore his outstretched hand, but she couldn’t bring herself to reject the man even that small bit when he’d obviously been rejected enough by his own family. She knew how that felt.
“Dr. Christopoulos, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” As she said the niceties, he wrapped his hand around hers again, this time with the slightest of familiar pressure as if they were comrades in arms. Between his strength and his warmth she felt cocooned. Before she could feel trapped, he released her.
“Call me Niko. Professional courtesy, right? And you are …?”
She was a woman who rarely gave out her first name to strangers, liking the barrier titles and surnames erected around her.
“Annalise.” Saying her own name aloud felt so intimate, like a secret revealed. Trying to erase the uneasy feeling, she said in her most authoritative voice, “I understand you’re in charge of your niece’s blood-sugar checks while you’re aboard. Do you understand how to balance her food and activity with her insulin? Are you comfortable giving injections? I can give you a refresher course if you like. I know some doctors don’t give injections regularly.”
“Got it down.” His sister-in-law had emailed Sophie’s requirements and he had studied them on the plane.
“I don’t want a shot. I don’t like Uncle Niko being a doctor.”
Annalise shouldn’t get involved in family relations but she found herself saying, “I think it’s awesome your Uncle Niko is a doctor. He helps people feel better.”
“Daddy says Uncle Niko makes people’s noses smaller and his wallet bigger.”
This time Niko grinned, his cat eyes sparkling. “Guilty.” He gave Annalise a wink. “Although I can see my services are not needed here as you have a perfect nose. But we need your professional help, Dr. Walcott. We need to check Sophie’s blood sugar.”
Annalise had a huge moment of doubt. “You don’t know how to use her meter?”
Sophie looked down at her red boots. “Yiayia might have forgotten my blood-sugar meter in the car.”
Niko kept his smile firmly in place to hide his disappointment with Yiayia. She couldn’t seem to understand how important it was to monitor Sophie’s condition. Juvenile diabetes could get out of hand in a heartbeat.
“It’s hard for some family members to accept their young ones needing such continuous care,” Annalise said sympathetically.
Apparently, she saw behind his smile. He must be slipping. He was beyond tired. Could he catch a nap on deck after supper? A few moments of solitude would go a long way to preparing him to facing three weeks with his raucous family en masse.
Annalise pulled up Sophie’s charts on her computer screen. “When’s the last time you ate, Sophie?”
Sophie shrugged, uncharacteristically shy, and pointed to the notebook her uncle held.
Niko turned to the last entry and angled it so Annalise could have a look at the meal listed there. Fast food at a burger joint. There were better choices—much better.
Sophie was young, but she would still have to be taught to be aware of what she ate.
Annalise asked in a different way. “What did you have for lunch?”
“French fries.”
“Anything else?” Niko prompted.
“Aunt Phoebe made me eat my hamburger meat, but I didn’t want to and Yiayia said I shouldn’t have to because we were on vacation.”
“Aunt Phoebe did the right thing.” Annalise opened a cabinet and brought out a glucose meter. “Ready?”
Sophie folded her hands together behind her back and stuck out her chin. “No.”
Niko’s heart broke for her. Life wasn’t fair.
What method of persuasion would work best with her?
Of all his nieces and nephews, Sophie was the most stubborn of the bunch. She’d
