Falling For Dr Dimitriou. Anne Fraser
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 yesterday 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?’
* * *
But it seemed as if she’d offered him a lift without the means to carry it through. Not wanting to drive down from Athens —she’d heard about the Peloponnese roads, especially the one that ran between here and the Greek capital—she’d taken a circuitous route; first an early morning flight, followed by a ferry and then two buses to the rental company In hindsight it would have been quicker and probably far less stressful to have flown into Athens.
And now she had a puncture. Thankfully the car did have a spare wheel. She jacked it up and found the wrench to loosen the bolts but they wouldn’t budge. No doubt they had rusted.
‘Problems?’
She whirled around to find Alexander standing behind her. He had showered and changed into light-coloured cotton trousers and a white short-sleeved shirt.
‘Puncture. I’m just changing the wheel. As soon as I get a chance, I’m going to exchange this heap for something better.’
The car the company had given her had more dents and bashes in it than a rally car after a crash. She would have insisted on a newer, more pristine model, but the company had said it was the only one they had available.
His lips twitched. He walked around the car, shaking his head. ‘They palmed this off on you?’
‘Yes, well, I was tired.’ She resented the fact that he thought she’d let herself be taken advantage of—even if she had.
‘Which company did