Falling For Dr. Dimitriou Read online

  The child’s eyes widened. ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, because you’re very small still and most of the time parents like to know where their children are and what they’re up to.’ She winced inwardly, aware of the irony of what she’d said.

  ‘But they do know where I am, silly. I’m in the village! Hello, Hercules.’ The girl knelt and stroked the cat. Suddenly pandemonium broke out. It seemed her spaniel had come to look for her. He ran into the room and spotting the cat made a beeline for it. With a furious yowl Hercules leapt up and onto Katherine’s desk, scattering her papers, pens and pencils onto the floor. She grabbed and held on to the struggling cat as the dog jumped up against her legs, barking excitedly.

  ‘Kato! Galen! Kato!’ A stern male voice cut through the chaos. It was the child’s father—the boat man. God, how many other people and animals were going to appear uninvited in her living room?

  The spaniel obediently ran over to the man and lay down at his feet, tail wagging and panting happily. Now the father’s censorious gaze rested on his little girl. After speaking a few words in Greek, he turned to Katherine. ‘I apologise for my daughter’s intrusion. She knows she shouldn’t wander off without letting me know first. I didn’t notice she’d gone until I saw her footprints headed this way.’ His English was impeccable with only a trace of an attractive accent. ‘Please, let us help you gather your papers.’

  Close up he was overwhelmingly good-looking, with thick-lashed sepia eyes, a straight nose, curving sensual mouth and sharp cheekbones. Katherine felt another stab of envy for the blonde-haired woman. She lowered the still protesting Hercules to the floor. With a final malevolent glance at the spaniel, he disappeared outside.

  ‘Please, there’s no need...’

  But he was already picking up some of the strewn papers. ‘It’s the least we can do.’

  Katherine darted forward and placed a hand on his arm. To her dismay, her fingertips tingled where they touched his warm skin and she quickly snatched it away. ‘I’d rather you didn’t—they might get even more muddled up.’

  He straightened and studied her for a moment from beneath dark brows. He was so close she could smell his soap and almost feel waves of energy pulsating from him. Every nerve cell in her body seemed to be on alert, each small hair on her body standing to attention. Dear God, that she should be reacting like this to a married man! What the hell was wrong with her? She needed to get a grip. ‘Accidents happen, there is no need for you to do anything, thank you,’ she said. Thankfully her voice sounded normal.

  ‘Yes, Baba! Accidents happen!’ the little girl piped up in English.

  His response to his daughter, although spoken softly in Greek, had her lowering her head again, but when he turned back to Katherine a smile lighted his eyes and played around the corners of his mouth. He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Again I must apologise for my daughter. I’m afraid Crystal is too used to going in and out of all the villagers’ homes here and doesn’t quite understand that some people prefer to offer invitations.’

  Crystal looked so woebegone that Katherine found herself smiling back at them. ‘It’s fine—I needed a break. So now I’m having one—a little earlier than planned, but that’s okay.’

  ‘In which case we’ll leave you to enjoy it in peace.’ He glanced at her ringless fingers. ‘Miss...?’

  ‘Burns. Katherine Burns.’

  ‘Katherine.’ The way he rolled her name around his mouth made it sound exotic. ‘And I am Alexander Dimitriou. I’ve noticed you watching from your balcony.’

  ‘Excuse me! I wasn’t watching you! I was working on my laptop and you just happened to be directly in my line of sight whenever I lifted my head.’ The arrogance of the man! To take it for granted that she’d been watching him—even if she had.

  When he grinned she realised she’d let him know that she had noticed him. The way he was looking at her was disturbing. It was simply not right for a married man to look at a woman who wasn’t his wife that way.

  ‘Perhaps,’ he continued, ‘you’ll consider joining my family one day for lunch, to make up for disrupting your day?’

  She wasn’t here to hang around divine-looking Greek men—particularly married ones! ‘Thank you,’ she responded tersely. ‘I did say to Crystal that she could come and visit me again some time,’ she added as she walked father and daughter outside, ‘but perhaps you should remind her to let you know before she does?’

  She stood on the balcony, watching as they ambled hand in hand across the beach towards the village square, Crystal chattering and swinging on her father’s arm. Even from this distance she could hear his laughter. With a sigh she turned around and went back inside.

  * * *

  Later that evening, after Crystal was in bed, Alexander’s thoughts returned to Katherine, as they had over the last few days—ever since the morning he’d seen her come out of the water. It was just his luck that the villa she was staying in overlooked the bay where he was working on his boat.

  He couldn’t help glancing her way as she sat on her balcony, her head bent over her laptop as she typed, pausing only to push stray locks from her eyes—and to watch him.

  And she had been watching him. He’d looked up more than once to catch her looking in his direction. She’d caused quite a stir in the village, arriving here by herself. The villagers, his grandmother and cousin Helen included, continued to be fascinated by this woman who’d landed in their midst and who kept herself to herself, seldom venturing from her temporary home unless it was to have a quick dip in the sea or shop for groceries at the village store. They couldn’t understand anyone coming on holiday by themselves and had speculated wildly about her.

  To their disappointment she hadn’t stopped for a coffee or a glass of wine in the village square or to try some of Maria’s—the owner of only taverna in the village—home-cooked food so there had been no opportunity to find out more about her. Helen especially would have loved to know more about her—his cousin was always on at him to start dating again.

  But, despite the fact Katherine was undeniably gorgeous, he wasn’t interested in long-term relationships and he had the distinct impression that Miss Burns didn’t do short-term ones.

  However, there was something about this particular woman that drew him. Perhaps, he thought, because he recognised the same sadness in her that was in him. All the more reason, then, for him to keep his distance.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE NEXT MORNING, having decided to work inside and out of sight, Katherine only managed to resist for a couple of hours before finding herself drawn like a magnet to the balcony.

  Gazing down at the beach, she saw that Alexander, stripped to the waist, his golden skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration, was back working on his boat again. Dragging her gaze away from him, she closed her eyes for a moment and listened to the sound of the waves licking the shore. The sweet smell of oranges from a nearby orchard wafted on the breeze. Being here in Greece was like a balm for her soul.

  A sharp curse brought her attention back to the bay.

  Alexander had dropped his paint-scraper. He studied his hand for a moment and shook his head. He looked around as if searching for a bandage, but apparently finding only his T-shirt, bent to pick it up, and wound it around his palm.

  She could hardly leave him bleeding—especially when, prepared as always, she’d brought a small first-aid kit with her and it was unlikely there would be a doctor available on a Sunday in such a small village.

  The blood had pretty much soaked through his temporary bandage by the time she reached him but, undaunted, he had carried on working, keeping his left hand—the damaged one—elevated in some kind of optimistic hope of stemming the bleeding.

  ‘Kalíméra!’ Katherine called out, not wanting to surprise him. When he looked up, she pointed to his hand and lifted the fir
st-aid kit she carried. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘It’s okay, I’ll manage,’ he replied. When he smiled, her heart gave a queer little flutter. ‘But thank you.’

  ‘At least let me look at it. Judging by the amount of blood, you’ve cut it pretty badly.’

  His smile grew wider. ‘If you insist,’ he said, holding out his injured hand.

  She drew closer to him and began unwrapping his makeshift bandage. As she gently tugged the remaining bit of cloth aside and her fingers encountered the warmth of his work-roughened palm, she felt the same frisson of electricity course through her body as she had the day before. Bloody typical; the first time she could remember meeting someone whom she found instantly attractive he had to be married—and a father to boot.

  ‘It’s deep,’ she said, examining the wound, ‘and needs stitches. Is there a surgery open today?’

  ‘Most of them are open for emergencies only on a Sunday. I’m not sure this constitutes one.’

  ‘I think it does.’ Katherine said, aware that her tone sounded schoolmistress prim. ‘I’m a doctor, so I do know what I’m talking about.’

  His eyebrows shot up. ‘Are you really? The villagers had you down as a writer. A GP, I take it?’

  Katherine shook her head. ‘No. Epidemiology. Research. I’m in public health.’

  ‘But not on holiday? You seemed pretty immersed in paperwork yesterday.’

  ‘My thesis. For my PhD.’

  ‘Brains too.’ He grinned. ‘So can’t you stitch my hand?’

  ‘Unfortunately, no. I could if I had a suturing kit with me but I don’t. Anyway, you’ll likely need a tetanus shot unless you’ve had one recently. Have you?’

  ‘No.’

  For some reason, the way he was looking at her made her think that he was laughing at her. ‘Then one of the emergency surgeries it will have to be,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll clean and bandage the cut in the meantime. Is there someone who can give you a lift?’

  ‘No need—it’s within walking distance. Anyway, this little scratch is not going to kill me.’

  ‘Possibly not but it could make you very sick indeed.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I strongly advise you to find out whether the doctor is willing to see you. I’ll phone him if you like. As one doctor to another, he might be persuaded to see you.’

  He was no longer disguising his amusement. ‘Actually, that would be a bit embarrassing seeing as I’m the doctor and it’s my practice—one of them anyway.’

  ‘You’re a doctor?’ She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. She felt more than slightly foolish, standing before him with her little plastic medical kit. If he was a GP he was probably more qualified than she to assess the damage to his hand. Now she knew the reason for his secret amusement. ‘You might have mentioned this before,’ she continued through gritted teeth.

  Alexander shrugged. ‘I was going to, I promise. Eventually.’ That smile again. ‘I suppose I was enjoying the personal attention—it’s nice to be on the receiving end for a change.’

  ‘You really should have said straight away,’ she reiterated, struggling to control the annoyance that was rapidly replacing her embarrassment. ‘However, you can hardly suture your hand yourself.’ Although right this minute she was half-minded to let him try.

  ‘I could give it a go,’ he replied, ‘but you’re right, it would be easier and neater if you did it. The practice I have here is really little more than a consulting room I use when the older villagers need to see a doctor and aren’t unwell enough to warrant a trip to my practice. But it’s reasonably well equipped. You could stitch it there.’

  ‘In that case, lead the way.’

  * * *

  His consulting room had obviously once been a fisherman’s cottage, with the front door leading directly onto the village square. There were only two rooms leading off the small hall and he opened the door to the one on the left. It was furnished with an examination couch, a stainless-steel trolley, a sink and most of what she’d expect to find in a small rural surgery. The one surprise was a deep armchair covered with a throw. He followed her gaze and grimaced. ‘I know that doesn’t really belong, but my older patients like to feel more at home when they come to see me here.’

  Not really the most sanitary of arrangements, but she kept her own counsel. It wasn’t up to her to tell him how to run his practice.

  He opened a cupboard and placed some local anaesthetic and a syringe on the desk, along with a disposable suture tray. He perched on the couch and rested his hand, palm up, on his leg.

  He definitely has the physique of a gladiator, she thought, her gaze lingering on his chest for a moment too long. She shifted her gaze and found him looking at her, one eyebrow raised and a small smile playing on his lips. As heat rushed to her cheeks she turned away, wishing she’d left him to deal with his hand himself.

  She washed her hands and slipped on a pair of disposable gloves, acutely conscious of his teasing appraisal as she filled the syringe with the local anaesthetic. Studiously avoiding looking at his naked chest, she gently lifted up his hand and, after swabbing the skin, injected into the wound. He didn’t even flinch as she did so. ‘I’ll wait a few minutes for it to take effect.’

  ‘So what brings you here?’ he asked. ‘It isn’t one of the usual tourists spots.’

  ‘I was kindly offered the use of the Dukases’ villa through a colleague who is a friend of their daughter in exchange for taking care of Hercules and the garden. My mother was from Greece and I’ve always wanted to see the country where she was born.’

  ‘She was from here?’

  ‘From Ītylo. This was the closest I could get to there.’

  ‘It’s your first time in the Peloponnese?’

  ‘My first time in Greece,’ Katherine admitted.

  ‘And your mother didn’t come with you?’

  ‘No. She passed away recently.’ To her dismay, her voice hitched. She swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing. ‘She always wanted the two of us to visit Greece together, but her health prevented her from travelling. She had multiple sclerosis.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Two simple words, but the way he said it, she knew he really meant it.

  She lightly prodded his palm with her fingertips. ‘How does that feel?’

  ‘Numb. Go ahead.’

  Opening up the suture pack, she picked up the needle. Why did he have to be nice as well as gorgeous?

  ‘I hope you’re planning to see some of the Peloponnese while you’re here. Olympia? Delphi? Athens and the Acropolis for sure. The city of Mycenae, perhaps?’

  Katherine laughed. ‘They’re all on my list. But I want to finish my thesis first.’

  He raised his head and frowned slightly. ‘So no holiday for a while, then? That’s not good. Everyone needs to take time out to relax.’

  ‘I do relax. Often.’ Not that often—but as often as she wanted to. ‘Anyway I find work relaxing.’

  ‘Mmm,’ he said, as if he didn’t believe her. Or approve. ‘Work can be a way to avoid dealing with the unbearable. Not good for the psyche if it goes on too long. You need to take time to grieve,’ he suggested gently.

  She stiffened. Who was he to tell her what was good for her and what she needed? How he chose to live his life was up to him, just as it was up to her how she lived.

  ‘I must apologise again for yesterday,’ he continued, when she didn’t reply, ‘You were obviously working so I hope we didn’t set you back too much. My daughter’s been dying to meet you since you arrived. I’m afraid her curiosity about you got the better of her.’

  Katherine inserted a stitch and tied it off. ‘Your daughter is charming and very pretty.’

  ‘Yes, she is. She takes after her mother.’

  ‘I take it the beautiful woman on the beach yeste
rday is your wife?’ she said, inserting another l stitch.

  When she heard his sharp intake of breath she stopped. ‘I’m sorry. Did that hurt? Didn’t I use enough local?’

  His expression was taut, but he shook his head. ‘I can’t feel a thing. The woman you saw is Helen, my cousin. My wife died.’

  Katherine was appalled. ‘I’m so sorry. How awful for you and your daughter. To lose her mother when so young.’ She winced inwardly at her choice of words.

  ‘Yes,’ he said abruptly. ‘It was.’

  So he knew loss too. She bent her head again and didn’t raise it until she’d added the final stitch and the wound was closed. When had his wife died? Crystal had to be, what? Four? Five? Therefore it had to be within that time frame. Judging by the bleakness in his eyes, the loss was still raw. In which case he might as well be married. And why the hell were her thoughts continuing along this route?

  She gave herself a mental shake and placed a small square dressing on top and finished with a bandage, pleased that her work was still as neat as it had been when she’d sutured on a regular basis.

  ‘What about tetanus?’ she asked. ‘I’m assuming you have some in stock here?’

  ‘Suppose I’d better let you give me that too. It’s been over five years since I last had one.’ He went to the small drugs fridge and looked inside. ‘Hell,’ he said after examining the contents. ‘I’m out. Never mind, I’ll get it when I go back to my other surgery tomorrow.’

  ‘It could be too late by then—as I’m sure you know. No, since it seems that you are my patient, at least for the moment, I’m going to have to insist you get one today.’

  He eyed her. ‘That would mean a trip to Pýrgos—almost an hour from here. Unfortunately, Helen has taken my car to take Crystal to play with a friend and won’t be back until tonight. Tomorrow it will have to be.’

  She hesitated, but only for a moment. ‘In that case, I’ll drive you.’

  ‘Something tells me you’re not going to back down on this.’

  She smiled. ‘And you’d be right.’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘You might want to fetch a clean shirt. Why don’t you do that while I get my car keys?’