One Night With Dr Nikolaides. Tina Beckett
push aside images of Theo sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to said boudoir, she tried to wrangle her backpack off his shoulder.
“No, you don’t.” Theo swept his arm out, indicating that she should enter the small but incredibly lush garden where a smattering of golden sandstone slates led to a modest-sized whitewashed traditional home. “In you go.” He pulled the gate shut behind them as she entered the garden. “So. What do you think?”
What did she think? She thought it was the last sort of place a Nikolaides would live in. More to the point, she thought it was perfect.
The small house was precisely the type of a home she’d dreamt of living in before she’d left the island. Draped in bougainvillea, shaded by palms and...was that a pomegranate tree? It felt...cozy. It was about as far as you could get from the ostentatious steel beams, floor-to-ceiling glass and columns of the neo-classical mansion he’d grown up in.
There went a few more of her hypothetical conjectures about The Life of Theo.
“I think it’s beautiful.”
He squinted at her, the corners of his lips tweaking up into a quirky smile. “Excellent. And it looks like the chaps who did the stonemasonry all those years ago knew what they were doing.”
“What?”
“No cracks from the earthquake.”
“Haven’t you been—?” She stopped herself. Of course he hadn’t been home yet. He’d been at the clinic yesterday afternoon when the quake struck and hadn’t been home since.
In lieu of throwing herself at him and telling him how selfless and wonderful he was, she shifted her weight on her heels and gave the house a studied look.
“How old is it, exactly?”
“Hmm...” Theo drummed his fingers on his chin and stared at the house as if someone would pop out of the front door and tell him.
My goodness, he has a lovely jawline. Had she ever even noticed a man’s jawline before?
“Not very. Three hundred years old? Maybe four? Not dawn of civilization stuff.”
Cailey couldn’t help but laugh. She’d always held a deep affection for the neglected and often abandoned stone structures dotted about the island. How funny that Theo seemed to share the exact same level of enthusiasm. He took a few long-legged steps past her and opened the thick wooden door to the house.
“You have the key to this one?” she teased, feeling a strange new store of energy coming to the fore.
“Never locked.” He looked back at her and gave her another one of those butterfly-inducing winks. “Wait here for a minute while I check the structure. It would be a bit embarrassing if your bedroom had been swept out to sea.”
Double swoon!
There was no doubt about it. Theo was flirting with her and she was falling for it hook, line and sinker. Just as she’d warned herself not to.
Then again... If this whole “get some rest at my house” thing was leading where she thought it might, it could lay a few old demons to rest.
Yes. Definitely. They’d have their night of carnal bliss and then poof! She’d lend a hand for a few more days at the clinic, maybe throw in a bit of a showdown with Dimitri, then get back to her job in London, put an end to the evil glares of the gift shop lady every time she leafed through the society mags, and get on with the rest of her life.
And maybe monkeys wearing tiaras would fly out of her backpack.
Theo appeared at the doorway. “It’s safe. Still no power so I’ve lit some candles. Just a couple of broken plates.” He laughed. “Typical Greek, eh? Breaking plates in the best and worst of times. C’mon. In you come.”
He crooked his finger, beckoning to her like the wicked wolf luring little Red Riding Hood into his lair.
Goosebumps skimmed across her skin as she stepped inside. Like the outside, the interior had the gentle glow of whitewashed stone walls. Theo had lit several candles set in traditional wall stands complete with mirrors, so a soft, warm light flickered around the room.
The ceilings were higher than she’d expected. The odd exposed support beam added character. Wooden, of course. A small kitchen was tucked at the back of the large open-plan area, so that there was room for a circular dining table opposite a pair of French windows. In the living room area, where they stood, a pair of over-sized sofas, perfect for napping or reading on, were dotted with blue throw pillows. The sofas faced another set of French windows, leading to a covered veranda, beyond which she could just see the white effervescent foam of the sea—still a bit choppy, though there had been no aftershocks since the one a few hours ago.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you’ve become, Cailey.”
Theo was right behind her, his voice low and weighted with intention.
She wheeled round and stumbled back a few steps. Being so close, inhaling his scent—amazingly pure and clean after such a long day—was suddenly too much.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Theo actually looked shocked at her question. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
Cailey was about to launch into a rather detailed explanation of exactly why this was all rather peculiar when he closed the space between them and put a finger to her lips.
“Cailey mou. I’ve always felt we had a connection, you and I. Don’t you know that?”
She shook her head against his finger, fighting the urge to open her lips and draw it into her mouth. Any connection they’d had had been more master and servant than anything. She’d grown up working in his house. Scrubbing, cooking and cleaning alongside her mother, who had spent her entire adult life serving as the Nikolaides housekeeper.
Sure, she’d played with Erianthe when they were kids, and sometimes with Theo when he and his gang were in the mood to torture or tolerate his kid sister, but a connection...? She’d thought that kiss they’d shared all those years ago had been a dare. A cruel one at that. For it had been only a day later when she’d overheard him telling his friends he’d never marry a housemaid.
She was surprised to see him looking hurt. Genuinely hurt. Furrowed brow. Eyes narrowing. A sharp intake of breath. The whole caboodle.
“Not in the strictest sense,” she whispered against his finger.
“We’re peas in a pod. You must know that. And today, working together, wasn’t that proof?”
“No. It only proves we work well together. Our lives...we’re so different.”
She wanted to hear him say it. Say he’d held himself apart from her because of her background. That he’d soared where she had failed even to get into medical school, let alone become a doctor.
“You are different from me,” he said, lowering his head until his lips whispered against hers. “You’re better.”
Before she could craft a single lucid thought they were kissing. Softly at first. Not tentatively, as a pair of teenagers might have approached their first kiss, more as if each touch, each moment they were sharing, spoke to the fact that they had belonged together all along.
Simply kissing him was an erotic pleasure on its own. The short walk to Theo’s house had given his lips a slight tang of the sea. Emboldened by his sure touch, Cailey swept her tongue along Theo’s lower lip, a trill of excitement following in the wake of his moan of approbation.
The kisses grew in strength and depth. Theo pulled her closer to him, his lips parting to taste and explore her mouth. The hunger and fatigue they’d felt on leaving the clinic were swept into the dark shadows as light and energy grew within each of them like a living force of its own.