Praise for Robin Gianna

‘If you’re looking for a story sweet but exciting, characters loving but cautious, if you’re a fan of Mills & Boon® Medical Romances™ or looking for a story to try and see if you like the medical genre, Changed by His Son’s Smile is the story for you! I would never have guessed Robin is a debut author: the story flowed brilliantly, the dialogue was believable and I was thoroughly engaged in the medical dramas.’

—Contemporary Romance Reviews

Dear Reader,

My family and I were lucky enough to spend two weeks in Greece this summer, and we had an amazing time—along with a few challenges that made the trip even more memorable! Like when our rental car broke down (twice) and the mechanic spent hours chatting to my husband and then sent a soda pop bottle filled with surprisingly good homemade wine back with him. :)

The people are charming and interesting—and of course the history is amazing and the entire country incredibly beautiful. I knew I wanted to set a book or two there, and since one of the many places I’d loved was Delphi I decided this one would take place there.

Andros, my hero, is a sexy Greek doctor who was training in the US until the shock of learning he had a small daughter sent him back to his hometown to raise her there. And, of course, archaeology had to be part of the story—so that’s my heroine Laurel’s passion! But she has a tragic reason for wanting to find the treasure her parents believed would be found there, and with only weeks left to make that happen she shouldn’t let herself be distracted by a certain hunky doctor.

Except she is distracted! And avoiding spending time with him is impossible when several members of the archaeological team become seriously ill and Andros tries to figure out why.

This story is about both characters learning who they truly are and finally putting their pasts behind them so they can start a new beginning together. And there’s an archaeological secret and a medical mystery thrown in for good measure!

I hope you enjoy Andros and Laurel’s story. I’d love to hear any feedback you’d like to offer—you can write to me at Robin@RobinGianna.com or find me on my website or Facebook.

Thanks for reading!

Robin

Her Greek Doctor’s Proposal
Robin Gianna

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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A huge thank-you to my SWs:

Sheri, Susan, Natalie, Margaret and Mel. You helped me through some tough times with steadfast support and love. I appreciate it, and all of you, so, so much!

A thank-you, as always, to Dr Meta Carroll, for helping me with medical scenes and always being there for me!

Thanks to my husband, George, for his infectious disease expertise and endless patience and support. Love you!

Table of Contents

Cover

Praise for Robin Gianna

Dear Reader

Title Page

Acknowledgements

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

LAUREL EVANS GASPED as the pinhead-sized gleam of gold revealed itself, winking at her through the layers of dirt she’d painstakingly removed. Even mostly still buried in this pit they’d dug on Mount Parnassus, the glow was unmistakable.

Laurel’s heart danced wildly in her chest as she grabbed her pick and brush, forcing herself to go slow as she gently worked to free the treasure. It took only a moment to realize it was something small, not the item she’d hoped to find, and she shoved down her brief disappointment. Oh so carefully, she used the delicate tools until the ancient find was finally loosened completely from the earth it had been long buried in.

A ring. Likely worn and possibly loved by someone thousands of years earlier. Even the smallest pieces of pottery, tools and partial bits of art they’d unearthed, reassembled and cataloged in the past weeks stepped up her pulse, but this? Nothing beat the thrill of finding a treasure like this one.

No, scratch that. There was one thing she could think of that would be way beyond thrilling, and the weeks were ticking away on her hopes of finding it. Of getting it on the cover of archaeological magazines all over the world, along with her parents’ faces, crowning the pages of her PhD dissertation, and ensuring funding for the next project that would get her own belated career launched at last.

She closed her fingers around the ring in her palm and breathed in the dusty, sweltering air. Too soon to panic. There were still a few weeks left before the end of this dig, and she, the rest of the crew and volunteers just needed to work harder and smarter. She looked up the mountain where the ruins of Delphi lay hidden from her view. Why couldn’t the oracle still be there to advise her where the heck the mythical treasure might be deeply hidden on this mountain?

Laurel wanted to show Melanie what she’d found, but as she looked around at the crew working the numerous rectangular pits dug into the mountainside she didn’t see her anywhere. Where could the woman be? Usually she was up early and on the mountain to enthusiastically guide her and the volunteers. Could she have gone to the caves with Tom? Seemed unlikely she wouldn’t tell Laurel she’d be working with her husband instead of leading the mountain portion of the dig. Maybe the cold she’d been fighting had gotten worse, and she’d decided to sleep in.

Laurel swiped a trickle of sweat that persisted in rolling down her temple, despite the wide-brimmed canvas hat shielding her from the insistent sun. She tucked her exciting find into a sample bag, but before she could start to label it, her palm began to bleed again from under the bandage she’d put on it.

“Damn it,” she muttered, trying to reposition the pad to cover it better, then ripped off a piece of duct tape to slap over the whole thing. So annoying that she’d stupidly jabbed herself while unearthing a sharp piece of what was likely part of a cup. She was just glad she hadn’t further broken the artifact in the process. She started to label the ring bag again only to stop midword as her peripheral vision caught a movement nearby.

She glanced over to see a man walking up the steep, rocky mountain path that wound between dried brown scrub scattered with tufts of thriving green plants, as steady and sure-footed as the goats that sometimes trotted by with their neck bells ringing. As he grew closer, she blinked, then stared. The brilliant sunshine gleamed on his short black hair and sent shadows and light across his chiseled cheekbones and jaw, his straight nose and sculptured lips. His face was so startlingly beautiful, so classically Greek, she thought he might be a mirage. That it was the god Apollo himself walking up Mount Parnassus to visit the temple built to honor him.

She gave her head a little shake, wondering if the blistering heat was getting to her. She narrowed her eyes against the sunlight and looked again.

Not her imagination. And not Apollo, but most definitely a real man. Greek gods didn’t normally wear khaki-colored dress pants and a short-sleeved, blue, button-down shirt that was open at the collar. A shirt that emphasized the obvious fitness of his torso and the deep tan of his skin. A steel wristwatch caught and reflected the sun in little white diamonds that danced on the craggy ground with each measured step he took.

The one word that came to mind was wowza. Who in the world was he? And why was he wearing such a surprising choice of clothing for hiking the mountain in ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit? Must be a local businessman, or possibly a reporter come to check out the dig. Or, with his knockout looks, a movie star planning his next film. She didn’t normally watch many movies, but if that was the case she’d definitely find time to fit in a viewing or ten of him on the big screen.

Laurel snapped out of her fixation on the man and finished her notation on the ring bag. She stood and quickly tucked the bag inside her canvas apron, next to her trowel. Tom and Melanie wouldn’t be happy if she yakked to a reporter or anyone else before they even knew about her find.

He stopped to speak to one of the volunteers on the dig, who pointed at Laurel. The man’s gaze turned to her, and even with twenty feet between them she could see his eyes were so dark they were nearly black, with a surprising intensity that seemed to stare right into her.

He resumed his trek toward her. He wasn’t a tall man—probably an inch or two shy of six feet. But the broad muscularity of his physique, which she’d noticed wasn’t unusual among Greek men, made him seem larger. Or was it the sheer power of his good looks and intelligent gaze that made him seem that way?

“Are you Laurel Evans?” he asked with only a slight accent to his otherwise American-sounding words.

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“I’m Dr. Andros Drakoulias.” He reached out to grasp her hand in a firm handshake. His palm felt wide and warm, slightly rough and not at all sweaty as she knew hers was. She pulled her hand loose and swiped it down the side of her shorts, hoping he hadn’t noticed the sweat or that just the simple touch made her feel a little breathless. “Your colleagues, the two Drs. Wagner, asked me to let you know what was going on.”

“Going on?” She realized it was a rather stupid echo of his words, but there was something about the serious expression she now saw in his eyes that sent her pulse into an alarmed acceleration. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“They came to the clinic early this morning feeling feverish and ill. I’ve done some tests, and both have pneumonia.”

“Pneumonia?” Laurel stared at him in shock. Pneumonia? How was that possible? “Melanie and Tom both had colds the past couple of days, but that seemed to be all it was.”

“Unfortunately not. I have them on IV fluids and antibiotics, and I plan to keep them today and overnight at the clinic to see how they do.”

Did this guy really know what he was talking about? Handsome didn’t necessarily translate to smart. She studied him. Maybe it was wrong of her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if the local town doctor had the knowledge and equipment to properly diagnose the problem. Should she take them to the closest large town instead, to be sure? “What makes you think it’s pneumonia?”

A small smile touched his beautifully shaped lips. “Hippocrates could diagnose pneumonia by listening to a patient’s chest, Ms. Evans. Ancient Greeks were at the forefront of medicine, after all. But believe it or not, even in our small-town clinic we have X-ray equipment and pulse oximetry to measure a patient’s oxygen saturation.”

Somehow, her face flushed hotter than it already was beneath the scorching noon sun. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insulting.” Maybe inserting a little light humor into the awkward moment she’d created was in order. “But I must say, despite the Greeks putting the Omphalos stone at Delphi to show it was the center of the world, many believe Egyptian physicians adopted an ethical code of medical care centuries before Hippocrates.”

His smile broadened; he was seemingly amused instead of offended, thank heavens. “Don’t say that out loud, Ms. Evans, or you may find yourself in a no-win argument with angry locals.”

“Is there any other kind of argument with Greeks?”

“Probably not.” The amusement in his eyes became a dangerously appealing twinkle. “I lived in the United States for fifteen years. I know Americans think everyone outside the US and Western Europe are somewhat backward and simple. If you like, I could go up to the temple and consult Apollo. Or perhaps pray to Asclepios for guidance?”

“Not necessary. I’m sure you’re very experienced, Dr. Drakoulias. I just…” Her voice trailed off, because she didn’t know what else to say and had a feeling she might stick her foot in her mouth all over again. She sent him a grateful smile, hoping that would make him look past her blunder. “Thank you for walking all the way up here to let me know. Right now, I need to stay at the site to supervise since Mel’s not going to be here. But I’d like to come down this evening to see them. Where’s your clinic?”

“In Kastorini, which is at the base of the mountain above the gulf waters. Just follow the old bell tower to the center of town—you can’t miss us.”

“What’s the address?”

His straight teeth showed in a smile that gleamed white against his brown skin. An unexpected dimple appeared in one cheek, which added another attractive layer to the man who sure didn’t need it. “There are no addresses in Kastorini, Ms. Evans. We’re small enough that everyone finds their way around without.”

No addresses? How did people get their mail and things? She wasn’t about to ask, though, and make even more of a fool of herself. “Well, I’m sure I can then, too. Thanks.”

“I do have a question for you.” All the teasing humor left his face. “Were both of the Drs. Wagner working in one spot? Somewhere they might have been exposed to a fungus of some kind?”

“Not really. Melanie is in charge of this part of the dig, and Tom leads the dig in the adjacent cave discovered a few years after the initial excavation. Why?”

“Just that it’s unusual for two healthy people to come down with pneumonia at nearly the same time. Which makes looking for an external cause something we need to think about. Has Melanie been in the caves recently?”

Laurel thought hard about what they’d excavated and where they’d dug, but couldn’t come up with anything that might have made them sick. “I’m almost certain she hasn’t been in the caves at all. At least, not since the first days of the dig two months ago. At team meetings, Tom shares the cave dig results weekly, and Melanie shares our results. It’s more efficient that way.”

“All right. We’ll see how they’re both doing tomorrow and decide then if it makes sense to look harder for some connection.” He looked around at the extensive excavation. “I wasn’t living here when Peter Manago tried building a house in this spot and they found the ruins. When was that—five or six years ago?”

Had it been that long? Five years since her family’s shocking loss that had turned her world upside down? A loss that seemed like yesterday, and yet, in other ways, felt like forever ago.

“I think that’s about right.” She swallowed hard at the intense ache that stung her throat. “Have you been up here to check it out?”

“No, but I’ve been wanting to. Is it filled with treasures offered to Apollo and the oracle?” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Everyone who grew up around here used to dig giant holes—or at least giant to us—that we were sure would expose a sphinx, or the Charioteer’s horses, or something else that would make us rich.”

“And were you one of them?”

“Oh, yes. Born and raised in Kastorini. Many a goat has likely fallen into one of my ‘digs.’ But after finding only rocks and more rocks and the occasional very exciting animal bone, I decided becoming a doctor might be a better way to make money.”

She had to laugh. Money was definitely not the reason anyone dug in the dirt for a living. “No doubt about that.”

“You must be finding something, though, or they wouldn’t have been working at it for so long. What’s here?” He looked around at the carefully plotted-out sections of earth. “Tell me about these squares you have marked off.”

“Much of the time when you unearth a site that’s several thousand years old, it’s a bit like a layer cake. The oldest part of a settlement is at the bottom, with artifacts that reflect how the people lived then. Vessels used for cooking, style of art that’s found, even the way a wall might be built, all can change a lot from the bottom of the cake to the top. But this site?” She loved sharing the excitement of this place with people who were interested. “The layers aren’t there. There’s no cemetery. No human remains, despite the number of buildings that housed probably a hundred people at a time. Which convinces us that it was temporary housing for pilgrims visiting Delphi.”

“Interesting. How long, do you think?”

He stopped scanning the site to look at her with rapt attention in his beautiful eyes, and a dazzling smile that momentarily short-circuited her brain. What had she been talking about, exactly? “How long what?”

“How many centuries did the pilgrims come to stay here?”

“Oh.” The man probably thought she was dense. “About five hundred years, we think. Amazing that people came here to consult the oracle and worship Apollo all that time.”

“Did the small earthquake we had a couple weeks ago damage anything?”

That earthquake had scared everyone, but especially Laurel. When the earth had rumbled around them, her heart had about stopped as the vision of how she’d been told her parents had died had surged to the forefront of her mind. The quake had lasted only a few minutes, but her insides had shaken for hours.

“Some rocks and earth loosened and fell into the pits, but it wasn’t too bad, thankfully.”

“That’s good.” He seemed to be studying her and she wondered what her expression was, quickly giving him a smile to banish whatever might be there. “Do you have any photos of the things you’ve found?”

“We do. A number of tools and potsherds have been reassembled and I have pictures in a binder in that box. This section here,” she said, showing him a large, cordoned-off rectangle, “is where several inscribed stones were found that are similar to the ones at the Temple of Apollo.” And one of those stones was etched with the cryptic words that had convinced her mom and dad they’d find the priceless artifact Laurel was still looking for. That part had to be kept secret from most people, but she could show him the rest.

She pulled the reference binder from the supply box and flipped through it to show him a few of the best photos. They stood close together, the hair on his muscular forearm tickling her skin, his thick shoulder nudging hers, his head angled close enough to nearly skim his cheek against her temple. He smelled so wonderful, like aftershave and hunky man, that she found herself breathing him in. So enjoying his interested attention, she suddenly realized she’d gone on way too long.

“Sorry.” She closed the book, feeling her face flush yet again, and not just from the blasting heat on the mountain. “I get a little overexcited sometimes.”

“No. I’m fascinated.” There was something about his low tone and the way he was looking at her with a kind of glint in the dark depths of his eyes that had her wondering if he meant something other than the dig. That thought, along with how close he still stood to her, kicked her heart into a faster rhythm and made her short of breath, which she knew was absurd. But surely there wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t swoon at least a little over Andros Drakoulias.

“My sisters tell me that when I talk about my work, I need to remember to look for eyes glazing over when I go on and on. Sorry.”

“Had you been looking, you’d have seen my eyes were most attentive. And you should never apologize for talking about something you love.”

The deep rumble of his voice, the warmth in it, seemed to slip inside her, and for a long moment they just looked at one another, standing only inches apart, before Laurel managed to snap out of whatever trance he’d sent her into. She sucked in a mind-clearing breath and turned to shove the binder back into its box.

“You’ve hurt yourself.” His strong arm came around her side, brushing against her as he reached for her hand. His head dipped close to hers again as he turned her palm upward, his fingers gently tugging loose the tape and bandage to expose the darn gash that had started bleeding again.

“It’s nothing.” She swiped at the trickle of blood, trying to tug her hand from his, but he held it tight. “I cut it on a potsherd. I’ll bandage it up better when I’m done for the day.”

“When was your last tetanus shot?”

“Just before I came here, Dr. Drakoulias. Cuts and scrapes are one of the hazards of this job.”

“I know. Last summer, I had to treat one of the workers on this dig for sepsis.” His gaze pinned hers, his former warmth replaced by a stern, no-nonsense look. “When you come to see the Wagners, I’ll clean and bandage it for you.”

She opened her mouth to assure him she could take care of it just fine, but the words died on her tongue. The wide palm that held hers was firm yet gentle, and something about his authoritative expression told her any protest would fall on deaf ears. Part of her didn’t want to protest, anyway. She realized, ridiculously, that it felt… nice to have someone want to take care of it for her. Probably because, for a long time, she’d been the nurse, cook, decision maker and overall helper for her sisters, without a soul to assist with all their challenges. Or, except for Tom and Mel, her own.

She reminded herself it wasn’t as if there were anything personal about it, the man was just doing his job. “Not necessary. I have everything I need to clean and bandage it at my hotel.”

“Necessary.” His eyes still on hers, he slowly released her hand. “I’ll see you at the clinic at, say, six o’clock?”

It was loud and clear she’d be in for an argument if she refused, and what sane woman would anyway? “Thank you. I’ll be there.”

The warmth of his palm lingered along with a little flutter of her heart as she watched him steadily stride back down the path, and she shook her head at herself. Mooning after the man was ridiculous, supersexy or not, since the dig was over in a matter of weeks and every second of her focus had to be on what she’d come here to accomplish.

She was already so late getting her career started. By the time her parents were her age, their accomplishments had been featured in numerous archaeological magazines. She could still hear them pointing out how they’d finished their PhDs in just four years, chiding their oldest about her schoolwork and GPA, about how important it was to be a role model to her sisters. Doubtless they would be disappointed in her if they were still alive. She dropped to her knees to get digging again.

The best way, the only way, she could begin to catch up, keep their memory alive, and make them proud, was by doing whatever she could to finish their work then finally get going on her own.

CHAPTER TWO

HOURS LATER LAUREL was finally able to shower off the film of dirt that clung to every bit of exposed skin, before studying the cut on her hand. It was less than an inch long, but deeper than she’d realized, which was probably why it kept opening up and bleeding. She washed it out with peroxide and knew that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have Andros Drakoulias make sure it was clean. Which of course had nothing to do with liking the feel of her hand in his.

The feeble hair dryer in the old, rambling Delphi hotel that the excavation team had rented rooms in for the summer blew about as much air as she would trying to cool a bowl of soup. The impact on the dampness of her long blond hair was practically nil, and she had to wonder why she’d decided to dry it anyway, when she usually just pulled it back.

She shook her head as she wrapped an elastic around her ponytail. Who was she kidding? She knew the reason, which was a certain megahunky Greek doctor her vain side wanted to look good for.

She threw on a sundress, swiped on a gloss of lipstick, and headed out of the door. Already perspiring again from the shimmering heat, she slipped inside the group’s equally hot rented sedan. She nosed the car down the winding road out of Delphi, and, before she turned onto the highway, paused for a moment to take in the incredible view.

On every horizon, partly sheer cliffs scattered with pines met tumbles of boulders that looked as though they’d been broken apart then glued back together by some giant hand, or perhaps the gods and goddesses of Greek lore. The mountains cradled the valley below, filled with the distinctive silvery-gray leaves of an endless, undulating sea of olive trees that went on as far as she could see. Where the valley ended, the trees seemed to flow right into the Gulf of Corinth, the water such an incredible azure blue that, every time she saw it, she felt amazed all over again. And beyond that azure sea, another range of mountains met the sky that today was equally blue, but at times reflected an ethereal beauty when mistiness embraced the entire scene.

Just looking at it filled her with a reassuring sense of tranquility, the same way walking the ancient Delphi ruins did, hearing the voices of the past. Before she left, she’d take her camera on one last hike of this historic place that still felt so untamed. To remember it by.

With a last, lingering look, she turned onto the highway, her thoughts turning to Tom and Melanie. A bead of sweat slid down her spine as she wondered how they would be feeling when she saw them. Surely they’d have improved by now, since they’d been on antibiotics for hours.

For the first time all day, she let the niggle of worry she’d pushed aside grab hold and squeeze. After her parents had died, Mel and Tom had wrapped their arms around her as if she’d become their surrogate daughter. Advised her on grad school and now her PhD program. Helped set her up at digs close to home so she could still care for her sisters. Got her here as a paid assistant to work on her parents’ project and her dissertation.

They were such special people. What if they were seriously ill?

No. Borrowing trouble was a sure way to have trouble take over, as her dad used to say. She’d had to be in charge at home whenever her parents were gone on digs, and full-time after they died. That had taught her a lot about leadership, and it was time to lead, not fret.

She had to get up to speed on what Tom’s crew was supposed to be doing in the caves to make sure it happened. With so little time left on the dig schedule, not a single hour could be wasted by worrying. She knew Tom and Mel would agree, and that her parents would have too.

The sign for Kastorini was in both Greek and English, thank goodness. Laurel turned off the highway, concentrating on driving the steeply curving road that sported the occasional rock that had rolled down from the mountainside. And the term “hairpin curve”? Now she knew exactly what that meant.

If she hadn’t already been sweating from the heat, this crazy trek would have done it. The road finally flattened and swooped toward a thick stone archway flanked by high, obviously ancient walls, and passing through it was like entering a different world. One minute she was driving with the mountain soaring on one side and dropping off on the other, the next she was surrounded by stone and stucco buildings sporting terracotta rooftops and draped with vines and magenta bougainvillea. Cheerful pots of flowers lined balconies and sat by inviting front doors. Farther down the narrow, cobbled street, men with small cups of coffee relaxed on patios in front of several tavernas, engaged in lively conversation as they watched her drive by.

The utter charm of the place made Laurel smile. And as Andros had promised, she easily spotted the ancient-looking clock tower and found the medical clinic with a few bona fide parking spaces right in front of it.

The building looked as old as the rest of Kastorini, and she wasn’t sure what to expect when she went inside. A small, fairly modern-looking waiting room was currently empty, but within moments a young woman appeared.

“May I help you?” she asked.

The fact that, right away, the woman spoke English instead of Greek, proved Laurel’s foreignness was more than obvious, though she’d accepted months ago that she didn’t exactly blend in as a local.

“Hello. I’m Laurel Evans, working with the Wagners. I believe they’re patients here? Dr. Drakoulias told me I could come see them.”

“Ah, yes.” Her pleasant smile faded to seriousness. “He is with a patient right now and wanted to talk to you before you see them. I am Christina, one of the nurses here. I will take you to Dr. Drakoulias’s office.”

Laurel followed the woman down the hallway. A side door opened, and she immediately recognized the deep rumble of Dr. Drakoulias’s voice.

She couldn’t follow many of his quickly spoken Greek words, but saw his hand was cupped beneath the elbow of a stooped-over elderly woman as they stepped from what looked like an examination room, obviously helping her stay steady as she walked. A small frown creased his brow just as it had when he’d been looking at Laurel’s gash.

Whatever the woman said in return made him laugh, banishing the frown and making him look younger. His eyes twinkled as he shook his head, saying something else in a teasing tone, making her laugh in return. She lifted a gnarled hand to his cheek and gave it a pat, then a pinch that looked as if it had to hurt, but he didn’t seem fazed.

Christina was chuckling too, as she took hold of the woman’s other arm to walk with her back down the hall.

Laurel wanted to ask what the woman had said that was so amusing, and if she always pinched people like that, but didn’t want to sound nosy. Dr. Drakoulias turned his attention to Laurel, and she felt the power of those eyes and that magnetic smile clear down to her toes. “Very punctual, I see. In my experience, the workers on the dig usually show up late. Or not at all.”

“I admit it’s easy to get distracted up there. But I had to learn fast how to keep track of time.” Her own and everyone else’s.

“So apparently you didn’t find a gold statue today.”

Her heart lurched hard in her chest and she stared at him, relaxing when she realized he was just kidding. “Not today, I’m afraid.”

“Just so you know, I’d consider that a good reason to miss an appointment.” He gave her a teasing smile that sent her attention to his beautiful mouth, which was not a good place for it to be. Thankfully, he reached for her hand and she followed his gaze to the new bandage. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

“It’s all right, really. I put peroxide on it and a clean bandage.”

He grasped her elbow and walked to the sink, her injured hand still in his. “That’s good, but I’d like to clean it again, nonetheless. Better to prevent an infection than have to treat one.”

She couldn’t argue with that, and again watched his fingers gently and carefully remove the bandage. He looked closely at her palm for a long moment before he spoke. “It’s going to hurt a little, I’m sorry to say, but thoroughly washing this out is important. Are you ready?”

She nodded and braced herself as he turned on the faucet, holding the open cut directly underneath the cool stream. He was right, it definitely hurt, but no way was she going to be a baby about it. Biting her lip, she’d have sworn he about drained the town’s entire water supply and was just about to yell, Enough already! when he finally turned it off.

He wrapped her hand with a towel and gently dried it. “You were very brave. I appreciate that you didn’t scream in my ear like the last patient I did that to.”

The eyes that met hers held a pleasing mix of humor, warmth and admiration in their dark depths. “I reserve screaming for activities that truly warrant it,” she said. Then wanted to sink into the floor when his eyebrows lifted and something else mingled with the humor in his eyes. “Things like bungee-jumping, for example,” she added hastily.

“I see. So you’re a daredevil.”

“Um, not really.” Not about to admit she wouldn’t bungee-jump unless her life depended on it, and definitely wouldn’t admit the direction her thoughts had suddenly gone, she quickly changed the subject. “What is that stuff you’re putting on there?”

“Just a topical antibiotic.” With nowhere else to look, her gaze again got stuck on his face instead of his work on her hand. On his dark lashes, lowered over his eyes; his ridiculously sculpted cheekbones; his lips twisting a little as he wrapped white gauze over the cut. “This gauze bandage will keep it clean and dry, but I’d like to check it in a couple days.”

“It’ll be fine. Thank you.” It suddenly struck her that she probably needed to pay him. “What do I owe you, Dr. Drakoulias?”

“First, I’d like you to call me Andros, since Dr. Drakoulias reminds me of my father and I don’t want to feel old around a beautiful woman. Second, I’m the one who insisted on treating you, so it’s on the house. I might get a bad reputation if I chase ambulances, then hand unsuspecting patients a bill.”

She had to grin at the picture that conjured, and the smile in his eyes and on his lips grew in response. “So if anybody on the dig team gets hurt, I need to find a way to lure you to the site, then when your Hippocratic Oath kicks in, we’ll get free medical care? Good to know.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d have no trouble at all luring me there.”

Did he mean, because he was interested in archaeology? Or something else altogether? After all, he’d called her “beautiful.” She shoved aside the intriguing question, reminding herself she had work to focus on, and luring dreamy Dr. Drakoulias couldn’t be on the agenda, even if he was willing to be lured.

Though the thought alone put a hitch in her breath and sent a little electric zing from the top of her head to her toes.

“Are we going to see Mel and Tom now? Where are they?”

His expression instantly became neutral and professional. “They’re in the clinic hospital, which is attached to this building. But before you see them, I’d like to talk to you in my office.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he said, his lips tightening into a grim line, “they are both seriously ill.”

CHAPTER THREE

ANDROS WAS ALL too aware of the woman following close behind him down the clinic corridor. She smelled good. Like sweet lemons or grapefruit strewn with flowers, and he had an urge to bury his nose in the softness of her neck and breathe her in.

Something about her had stopped him in his tracks the first second he’d seen her on the mountain. Her blonde hair was the color of sunshine, pulled back into a thick, untidy ponytail that had flowed from beneath a creased canvas hat that was definitely for function, not style. The blue eyes that had met his were sharp and intelligent, and there was an exotic look to her features that made him want to keep looking. Maybe not a classic kind of beauty, but there was something intangible and appealing about her. Her skin was practically luminous without any makeup at all. He hadn’t thought much about it until this moment, but, compared to the carefully put-together women he used to date, he liked her natural look a lot.

Down, boy, he reminded himself. Now wasn’t the time to forget he was trying to reform the man who’d liked women far too much in the past, made-up, natural or anywhere in between.

Andros opened the door to his office and gestured for Laurel to go inside, wishing there were a little more room to move around. Usually he didn’t notice how his father’s old wooden desk that Christina joked was the size of an aircraft carrier practically filled the small space. At that moment, however, he was intensely aware of the close quarters.

Standing or sitting within inches of Laurel wasn’t the best idea, since he kept finding himself distracted by her scent and her smooth skin and soft-looking hair. There wasn’t much he could do about any of those problems, though, and he wanted privacy for this conversation. The last thing he needed was for a local to come into the clinic and overhear that there might be a contagion nearby.

“Have a seat.”

She sat and turned to him as he lowered himself into the chair next to her, trying not to bump his knees into hers. He pondered for a moment, wondering how much detail he should give her about the Wagners’ condition. She had to be worried, but instead of bombarding him with questions like a lot of people would, she waited patiently. He looked into her serious blue eyes and decided she could handle the truth, and deserved to know.

“Unfortunately, the Wagners are no better. I’m frankly surprised and concerned about that, after having them on IV fluids and antibiotics all day. As I mentioned before, I’m keeping them here overnight for observation. With any luck, they’ll improve, but we should have seen some improvement already.”

“Doesn’t pneumonia usually respond to antibiotics pretty fast?”

“Often, yes, especially in younger people and those with no underlying physical problems, like the Wagners. That’s the good news. But sometimes it doesn’t. The truth about this situation, though? The presentation of their pneumonia is unusual.”

“How so?”

“According to what they told me, Tom got what he thought was a cold a couple days before Melanie did. This morning Tom’s respiratory rate was about thirty breaths per minute, Mel’s twenty. Which indicates to me that she may have gotten it from him, which generally doesn’t happen with pneumonia. Both are showing symptoms of the pneumonia worsening.” He paused, hoping she wouldn’t get upset at what he had to warn her about next. “If that continues into the morning, I will recommend they be transported to a fully equipped hospital in a bigger city about an hour away. It has twenty-four-hour skilled care and equipment we don’t have.”

Her lush lips parted in surprise. “You really think that might be necessary? Can’t you just give them a different kind of antibiotic or something?”

“It’s not that simple. I’m hopeful they’ll improve and we can manage it here. I’m just making you aware that’s a possibility. I’d prefer you didn’t mention it to them, though. No need to worry them unnecessarily.”

“All right.” She nodded. “Are they… are they well enough for me to talk to them? If I have to take over leadership of the dig, I need to ask some questions. Find out more about the cave dig, since we were supposed to have our team meeting for the week tomorrow.”

The eyes that met his were full of worry and alarm, and he wanted to reassure her but couldn’t. He hadn’t seen pneumonia with quite this presentation before and figured she might as well talk to the Wagners now in case the situation slid south—which he feared very well might happen.

He stood, and she did too, biting her full lower lip as she looked up at him. Standing so close he could have tipped his head down to kiss her. The instant that thought came to mind, he looked into her eyes, the idea now so appealing, so damned near irresistible, he had to inhale a deep breath and quickly step back. “I’ll take you to see them now. They’re on oxygen but will be able to talk to you. I want you to wear a surgical mask.”

“You think I could make them sicker?”

“No. I think they might make you sick.”

“Make me sick?”

Her eyes widened, and he wanted to make sure she understood the possible risk, because he damned well didn’t want her to end up in the hospital too. “I told you before that it’s unusual they’ve both developed this. We just can’t know if it’s possibly contagious or not.”

He turned and led the way down the hall, again very aware of her walking closely behind as her sweet, citrusy scent wafted around him. He grabbed surgical masks from the supply cupboard outside the hospital wing and handed her one before putting on his own.

The Wagners were the only patients in the six-bed wing, and he was thankful for that. Tom Wagner lay motionless, his eyes still closed as they came to stand between the two beds, but Melanie Wagner opened her eyes and reached out to Laurel. She held Melanie’s hand between both of hers, and Andros realized too late he should have had her put gloves on. Or at least one on her good hand, and warned her not to touch the Wagners otherwise.

He mentally thrashed himself. Until they knew what they were dealing with here, every precaution had to be taken anytime someone came in contact with them.

“I’m so sorry to have to dump all the work on you, Laurel,” Melanie said in a whisper. “Isn’t this crazy?”

“Don’t worry about a thing, Mel,” Laurel said, her voice slightly muffled through the mask. “I’ll handle everything until you’re feeling better. Dr. Drakoulias says he hopes the antibiotics will kick in soon.”

“You won’t have any problems leading the team until we’re better. You’ve impressed me since day one on this dig.” Melanie gave Laurel a glimmer of a smile. “Find anything good today?”

“Mostly more potsherds. But the most exciting thing was a gold ring. I’m pretty sure it’s seventh century BC, but you’ll know that better than I. Can’t wait for you to look at it.”

“Me either. I—”

A coughing fit interrupted her speech, and when she finally stopped, her breathing was obviously more labored. Laurel turned to Andros, her eyes wide.

He glanced at the quietly beeping screen next to the bed and saw that Melanie’s 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 when they arrived. Now pulse ox says their sats have gone from ninety to eighty, even after giving them four liters of oxygen. This is acute respiratory failure, Di, and they may need intubation.”

“Nikolaos will be here in an hour, and I’ll send him right out.”

Andros nearly slammed his hand to the wall. “We can’t wait until the hospital’s driver feels like rolling out of bed. Get him out here with portable oxygen now, or I’ll bring them there. If they code on me, it’ll be on your shoulders, since I don’t have damned IV hookups in my car.”

“All right, all right. He’ll gripe like hell, but I’ll have him there in an hour and fifteen.”

“Good.” He stopped his pacing to stare out of the window. “Get a blood test for fungal infection when they get there. I’m going to talk to the hotel management, and the archaeological crew they’ve worked with. See if I can figure out if there’s some environmental cause.”

“You think there might be?”

“Maybe. It’s strange that they both fell ill days apart with the same symptoms. So make sure Nikolaos and the EMTs use infection control precautions, just in case.”

“Will do. Talk to you after they get here.”

Andros shoved his phone into his pocket, called Christina to come in early and keep a close eye on the Wagners, then caught up on paperwork in his office. He tried not to constantly check his watch. After forty-five minutes that felt like hours, he decided to make sure the Wagners were ready to go the second Nikolaos got there. He took a quick right out of his office, practically knocking down Laurel Evans, who was standing just outside his door. How had he missed her presence, when he’d been so acutely aware of it yesterday?

“Whoa, sorry!” he said, grabbing her arms to steady her. “Didn’t see you there. Hope I didn’t bruise you.”

“No bruises. Though I did wonder for a second if I was on a football field instead of in a medical clinic.” Her hands rested on his biceps as though they belonged there, and he had to stop himself from tugging her closer. “Now I see your real MO. Forget chasing ambulances. You injure people, fix them up, then bill them.”

He smiled. “Not my MO. But I did play football in college in the US. Glad to know I still have the moves.” Though knocking her down wasn’t the move he’d like to make on her. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep. So I came to see how they’re doing.”

The pale smudges beneath her eyes didn’t detract one bit from her pretty face, and he again nearly pulled her against him instead of letting her go. To comfort and reassure her, of course.

“Not good.” He gave her arms a gentle, bolstering squeeze before dropping his hands. “I’ve called the Elias Sophia hospital, which is about an hour away. The ambulance is coming to get them now.”

“Oh, no!” Her hands flew to cover her heart. “They’re worse?”

“I’m afraid so.” He didn’t feel it was necessary to tell her exactly how much worse they were. With any luck, they’d soon be fine and she’d never have to know the seriousness of the situation. “Sometime today, I’d like to talk to some of your people who’ve worked in the caves.”

“To see if there’s something there that made them sick.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be heading up when I leave here. The crew should be there soon, and I need to talk to them anyway. If you have time, you can come with me.”

“Once the Wagners leave for the hospital, I can go. Even though Melanie hasn’t been up there recently, it’s worth asking a few questions.”

“If it’s contagious, just being in the same hotel room might have exposed her to it, right?”

“Right.” He’d considered the same thing. The woman was smart, no doubt about that. “I’m also going to check with the hotel management, see if any tourists were ill, or if any staff that live elsewhere have been out sick.”

“Can I see Mel and Tom now?”

“I’d prefer you didn’t.” Andros managed to temper the vehement hell, no he’d nearly responded with. But her being exposed to them again wouldn’t accomplish anything. “Talking is difficult for them right now. After they’re settled in at the hospital, we can go see them there together.”

She tipped her head sideways and seemed to study him. Was she wondering if he had some ulterior motive in wanting them to go together? Again, smart woman. He hadn’t said it for that reason, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the small rush of anticipation he felt spelled out loud and clear that, even if they were just driving to see his patients, and despite his concern for them, he’d more than enjoy the time with her.

“All right. But—”

“Dr. Drakoulias!” Christina came hurrying out of the doors of the hospital wing. “The hospital transport is here.”

“Finally.” He turned to Laurel. “Stay here. I’ll be back shortly.”

With Christina’s help, he, the EMT and Nikolaos got both patients loaded in a matter of minutes. About to shut the ambulance doors, the scent of sweet citrus reached his nose. He looked over his shoulder, and saw Laurel standing right behind him, waving to the Wagners as they lay inside on their gurneys.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” she said, the smile on her face obviously strained. “I’ll come see you with updates.”

He shut the ambulance doors, yanked down his mask, and barely stopped himself from raising his voice at the woman next to him. “What part of ‘stay here’ and ‘possibly contagious’ are you not understanding?”

“I was a good six feet from them. It seems to me you’re overreacting a little, since you don’t know if they’re contagious or not.”

“There’s a difference between overreaction and caution.”

“Maybe that’s just something you tell yourself.” She folded her arms and stared him down. “Are you going to be bossy like this when we go up to the caves?”

“I’m only bossy when I have good reason to be.” In spite of his frustration with her, he nearly smiled at the mulish expression on her face. She was toughness all wrapped up in softness. “So the answer is yes. I’m staying outside the caves and you are too.”

“I’m an archaeologist, Dr. Drakoulias. Detective work is part of what we do. The Wagners are my bosses and my friends, and I’m going to do whatever I can to help. The caves are part of the excavation I’m doing my dissertation on, and, with Mel and Tom sick, I’m in charge now. I have to learn exactly what they’re doing there and maybe in the process spot something that could have made them ill. Since I’m pretty sure you don’t own Mount Parnassus, I’m going into the caves.”

“You say I’m bossy? How about I say you’re stubborn?” He let out an exasperated breath. “If there’s a fungal contagion, possibly connected to the caves, no one should go in who hasn’t been there already. Hell, no one should go in there, period, until we have some answers. But if they have to, they need to wear masks. Which I’ll provide. You, though, have to stay out for now.”

“Are you afraid Apollo’s python may be lurking in there too, ready to strangle me?” Her voice was silky sweet, at odds with the sparking blue flash in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring my bow and arrows just in case.”

Clearly, the woman had serious issues with being told what to do. “Listen, Laurel, you—”

“Daddy!”

He swung around in horror when he heard his daughter’s little voice, and the sight of her standing just inside the door of the hospital wing with his sister and nephew, smiling her big bright smile, sent his heart pounding and adrenaline surging. His baby could not be in there when God knew what contagion might be in the very air. “Cassie. You can’t be here right now.”

“Why, Daddy?” Her eyes shone with excitement. “Is there really a python? I want to see!”

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