LITMIR.BIZ

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the time as the televisions weren’t working. All the children, in fact. There were some in a storage locker along with some paper. He was sure of it. Oh, and he’d organized a water delivery so everyone who entered the clinic could be given a two-liter bottle to see them through their waiting time.

      Was there nothing the man hadn’t thought of? All this while also seeing patients? Where was the young man she’d last seen? Arrogant. Elitist. The one who’d turned against her as easily as kicking a door shut. The one who’d compelled her to scrimp and save and study and learn. To leave her homeland pushed by the towering wave of shame that she would never be good enough for a man like him.

      She couldn’t have been wrong about him after all of this time. Could she?

      Theo reached back and gave her shoulder a little pat and a squeeze as another doctor took the nurse’s spot and asked him to run his eye across some X-rays. A compound fracture. Were they up to performing the surgery the patient would require?

      Vividly aware of Theo’s fingers on her shoulder, Cailey was barely capable of lucid thought. Her insides were behaving like electricity cables cut loose in a storm. Sparks flying everywhere. Nothing behaving the way it should.

      She squeezed her eyes tight against the warm olive color of Theo’s skin. His toned physique. The perfect, capable hands touching her.

      Just imagining the man holding a child, helping a yiayia to cross the street with her shopping or explaining to a daredevil teen that he couldn’t go swimming while his arm was still in a plaster made her insides turn into liquid gold.

      Which was all very irritating because she was meant to have become immune to Theo Nikolaides.

      She forced herself to open her eyes and meet the mossy hues of his irises whilst trying her level best to ignore the fact that the man was in possession of the longest, darkest lashes she’d ever seen. He also had more than a five o’clock shadow, but that indicated he’d been working hard and—surprise, surprise—made him look more like a rock star than an unkempt layabout.

      No doubt about it. As a grown man Theo Nikolaides was a living, breathing example of a mortal embodying the majesty of the Greek gods of legend. Zeus, Adonis, Apollo... Eros...

      “Shall we get you out of these things?”

      Theo was looking pointedly at her filthy top, but her thoughts and his tone suggested anything but an innocent need to improve her hygiene.

      Was he...flirting with her?

      This was taking being cool in the eye of a storm to a whole new level.

      Just one lazy scan of her dust-covered body and—poof!—just like that she felt naked. Each sweep of his eyes drew her awareness to the cotton brushing against her belly, her breasts, the tingling between her legs that was really, really inappropriate seeing as she’d vowed to remain immune to the Nikolaides effect. Not to mention the scores of patients waiting.

      Seeing him looking at her the way he was...hungrily...she felt a brand-new array of fireworks light up her insides and actual electricity crackle between them.

      This was all wrong. There was a crisis happening not inches away. People needed help. Patients needed his attention. Her attention.

      He’d never looked at her like this before. As if she were an oasis and he’d crawled in from the desert desperate for one thing and one thing only.

      The sun abruptly lit up the clinic’s central glass dome, its rays filtering down to them through a tumble of rooftop wisteria like film lighting. Dappled. Hints of gold and diamonds.

      When Theo tilted his face, green eyes still locked with hers, it was all she could do not to reach into her chest and give him her heart. It had always been his. He’d just never wanted it.

      Before she could say anything, though, he held out his arm to clear a path for her toward the rear of the clinic.

      Of course the crowd parted. Things like that happened for the Theo Nikolaideses of the world. And the Patera and the Xenakis families. Not to mention the Moustakas family. The four families who commanded the bulk of the island’s wealth thanks to their business savvy.

      Mopaxeni Shipping. The glittering star of the Aegean Seas and beyond. All those businessmen’s sons would inherit untold millions—if not billions. So what on earth was Theo doing here in this small town clinic when the world was his oyster?

      “Aren’t you meant to be—?”

      “Right.” Theo cut her off, directing her to a green door at the far end of the corridor. “In here.”

      She turned and tried to take her bag from him.

      He shook his finger—tick-tock, no, you don’t—in front of her lips. “I’m coming with you.”

      Great. Just what she’d always dreamed of. Death by proximity to the unrequited love of her life.

      She pushed open the swinging door to the changing room. Might as well get it over with.

      * * *

      Theo had absolutely no idea where this cavalier Jack-the-lad attitude he was trying on for size had come from.

      He was exhausted. Running on adrenaline. He needed food, coffee, and yet... Was this—? Was he trying to flirt? Was this what stress did to him? Or was this what all-grown-up Cailey Tomaras did to him?

      There’d been that one time as teens, when they’d all been running around the pool, messing about. He’d grabbed her, and she’d slipped on the grass, and they’d fallen in a tangle of limbs on top of one another and there’d been a moment...a kiss...

       Μakapi!

      There were a thousand other things Theo should be doing besides going down memory lane to find hints of a romance that had never been. A restorative fifteen minutes of sleep. Walking the small wards, filled to bursting wards, and diving in where an extra pair of hands were needed. Helping with rescue efforts.

      Not staring at a pretty girl from the past.

      She looked good. A far cry from the reedy teenaged girl who had seemed to all but live in the shadows of his father’s ridiculous mansion. A full cherry-red mouth. Inky black hair. A deliciously curvy figure he could almost feel—as if he’d already tugged her close to him for a passionate embrace.

      He scrubbed a hand through his long hair, hearing his father’s distinctive voice in his head.

       “If you’re going to slum it as the island medic, the least you can do is maintain the family reputation. I’ll not have you gallivanting round the island with a halfwit cleaner’s daughter.”

      His eyes flicked to Cailey’s. Dark. Full of passion and empathy. And, if he wasn’t wrong, the smallest dose of fear.

      His heart cinched. That she should feel that way around him... His father was a cruel man. Why he couldn’t see that kindness, understanding and empathy were far more effective tools for so-called “people management” was beyond him.

      Theo had grown immune to Dimitri’s tendency to cut a person to the quick, but Cailey...? He’d never subject her to the ego-lashings his babbo had dealt out without a second’s thought. And for some reason his father had always had it in for the girl. He’d need to keep her close to him. Far easier to keep her out of harm’s way then.

      “Are you ready to go straight to work?”

      Smooth. Nice way to make a woman who’s flown overnight to come and lend a hand welcome.

      She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not going to stand there while I change my clothes, are you?”

      Cailey’s sharp tone brought him back to the present.

      He ran his eyes down the length of her. Long legs. Sensually curved hips making a nice dip at the waist. A tug of desire unexpectedly tightened

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