# The Greek Doctor's Proposal

Molly Evans

Jeannine Carlyle is making changes. She's swapping the hectic pace of the ER to indulge in her love of paediatrics. But, more importantly, she's giving herself time to heal from her devastating miscarriage and the break-up of her relationship.But with handsome Dr Miklo Kyriakides as her boss she's in for a rough ride; he sends her emotions–and her body–into freefall! Miklo is captivated by Jeannine's courage, beauty and quiet vulnerability, but with emotional scars of his own he can't allow himself to get involved. Until he realises that the key to happiness for both of them lies in being together…

Even in simple green scrubs and a tied hair cover, Miklo would have commanded the attention of every woman in the area.

The simplicity of his attire peeled away everything except the man. He didn’t draw attention to himself intentionally, but something about him drew her to him, and she shivered, trying to resist the whisper of attraction that swept over her.

As if sensing her gaze, Miklo turned toward her. His dark brown gaze met hers and she held her breath for a second, startled at the intensity of his stare. He was serious, intense and focused. Only a nod acknowledged her, but that simple gesture released her…

Molly Evans has worked as a nurse from the age of nineteen. She’s worked in small rural hospitals, the Indian health service, and large research facilities all over the United States. After spending eight years as a Travelling Nurse, she settled down to write in her favourite place—Albuquerque, New Mexico. Within days she met her husband, and has been there ever since. With twenty-two years of nursing experience, she’s got a lot of material to use in her writing. She lives in the high desert, with her family, three chameleons, two dogs, and a passion for quilting in whatever spare time she has. Visit Molly at www.mollyevans.com.

The Greek

Doctor’s

Proposal

Molly Evans


www.millsandboon.co.uk

## CONTENTS

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

Epilogue

## CHAPTER ONE

Albuquerque, NM, USA

SO MANY times Jeannine Carlyle had walked into a hospital as a nurse. Then for a time she had been a patient. This time as she entered the pediatric ICU of a large teaching hospital, she was going to put the last six months behind her and put her life back together. So much about her had been changed, but being a nurse and wanting to help people had not. Lying flat on her back after a life-threatening miscarriage and months of rehab hadn’t changed that, but had only made her conviction stronger.

After entering the ICU, she approached the nurse manager. “Hi, Arlene.”

“Jeannine, glad to see you here bright and early.” Arlene glanced over Jeannine, assessing her attire. “You found the right color scrubs, I see.”

“Sure did,” Jeannine said, and looked down at her royal blue outfit. “Slightly different than the last place I worked, but I needed new scrubs anyway.” The weight loss she had suffered recently had made her previous scrubs entirely too large. Though spring had blossomed and the weather was warming, she wore a longsleeved T-shirt beneath the scrubs to cover the healing marks on her arms. Trying not to be overly conscious of them, she tried to ignore them, hoping that if she didn’t draw attention to them no one else would notice her disfigurement. There were no scars on her face, but she felt every one of them as if they were all visible. She knew they would heal, but the inside of her that hurt the most might never recover.

“Well, glad to have you on board.” Arlene began to walk down the hall further into the PICU. “We’ll be having grand rounds soon. Our medical director, Dr. Kyriakides, will be presenting a very interesting case we had a few months back. I can introduce you to some of the staff first.”

“Sounds great.” A good way to get to know some of the staff without having to jump in with both feet on her first day on the job. What a relief.

Arlene hesitated outside a large conference-room door. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Coming back to work, I mean?”

Jeannine felt her stomach slide. “Are you having reservations about me being here?”

“No, I’m not. Your résumé and references more than proved you’re a very capable nurse. It’s just that the pediatric ICU can be a very emotionally difficult place to work at times.” Arlene’s compassionate gaze searched Jeannine’s face.

“Yes, I know,” Jeannine said, and hoped the redness she felt in her face wasn’t too visible. “But I have to start somewhere sometime, don’t I?” No place was going to be easy, but with her finances having dwindled to next to nothing, she couldn’t afford to be off from work any longer. She needed this job to keep her life going.

“You’re right. But please let me know when you need a break. Look at the schedule and make sure you give yourself adequate time off, not too many days in a row, okay?” Arlene gave her a sad smile. “You’re a strong woman to have survived your ordeal, so I know coming back to work must seem a piece of cake after that.”

Jeannine gave a small laugh. “Maybe not quite a piece of cake, but something I have to do. Starting over, starting fresh, is what I need right now.”

During the interview process she had had to disclose why she had been out of work for so many months. She hadn’t been on vacation for months at a time and she hadn’t been terminated from her last job. A life threatening miscarriage had forced her to quit her job. Being a patient had given her a whole new perspective on life.

“There is a certain amount of difference between the ER and the ICU, so it may take some adjustment for you. Don’t expect to learn everything at once.”

“I won’t. Moving from ER to ICU will hopefully give me a buffer. Never knowing what was coming through the doors in the ER was always stressful. I didn’t realize how stressful until I left there.”

“Well, in any case, I’m glad you’re here.” She nodded toward the conference room. “Let’s get in there before all the bagels are gone.”

Jeannine grabbed half a bagel and found a seat in the back of the small room crammed with chairs. She nodded to staff members entering the room, but focused on the pastry in her hand.

When an amazingly handsome man entered the room, she nearly dropped her bagel on the floor. Tawny skin and dark hair that fell past his collar, he was broad shouldered and trim in the hips. She didn’t know who he was, but he certainly commanded the attention of everyone in the room. With the long white labcoat, he was identifiable as a high-ranking physician at the hospital. Probably an attending physician or senior resident. She was too far away to read his name badge and several people shuffled past, blocking her view.

“Attention, everyone,” Arlene said, and raised a hand. “Let’s get started. You all know Dr. Kyriakides, I believe. But I want to introduce our newest staff member, Jeannine Carlyle. Jeannine, would you stand up?”

Reluctantly, Jeannine stood and choked down a bite of bagel that was suddenly lodged in her throat. “Hi, everyone,” was all she could think of to say.

How lame is that? she asked herself, and sat again, wishing she could slide under the chair in front of her. But she soon forgot her embarrassment as the physician began his presentation of a pediatric case from a remote Indian reservation in New Mexico. Watching him, listening to the case history and the problems the patient had experienced during his hospitalization, Jeannine forgot for a short time that she was starting a new job, that her life had been completely uprooted, and simply lost herself in Dr. Kyriakides’ voice and the slide presentation.

At the end of the presentation, staff members grabbed the remainder of the pastries and returned to their patients. Jeannine was the last to leave the room as the doctor packed up his computer. “Thanks for the presentation. It was very informative,” she said.

“You’re welcome. You’re the new nurse, right?” he asked, and shook her hand.

The faint smell of his cologne drifted toward her, and she took a step back. “New at this job, but not a new nurse.” Definitely not new to this game.

“Did you just move here or have you been in Albuquerque a while?” He finished rolling up the cables and stowed them in a black computer case.

“No, I worked across town. I needed a new start.”

“That sounds serious. Starting over isn’t very easy, is it?”

“No. It’s not.” Trying to avoid his piercing gaze was impossible. The dark hair and tawny skin gave him away as being of Mediterranean descent, but there was something else to him. Jeannine shrugged. He was none of her business except in a professional way. Beautifully exotic men were off limits to her. Relationships period were off limits to her, since the last one had almost killed her. “I…had a serious injury that took me out of work for a while, but I’m back in action now. Don’t worry, Doctor, I’m up to it.” Was she being defensive already? She didn’t need to tell her life story to everyone she met today, did she?

“Worrying is wasted energy, as far as I’m concerned. And please call me Miklo. I know they like to toss the medical director title around a lot, but I’m a doctor just like the rest. I simply have more paperwork.”

His engaging smile managed to pull her lips into an answering response.

“I’ll try. I’m not accustomed to addressing physicians by their first names. Usually just the residents.”

Miklo looked down at her and smiled. “Then just think of me as a really old resident.”

Against her will, Jeannine laughed at the small joke. But laughing was something she hadn’t done in some time and to be joyful on her first day at work was an unexpected gift. She’d learned to find those gifts in unusual places. “Thank you, Miklo.” She stepped toward the door. “Guess I’ll be seeing you later.”

“Yes, well, welcome to University Hospital.”

“Thanks,” Jeannine said, and left the conference room.

* * *

Miklo watched the new nurse go. She was a trim, pretty woman with long blonde hair and blue-green eyes that were filled with pain. She’d said she was starting over, and he knew from his own painful experience that starting over was never easy, no matter the reason.

Life as he had known it had been changed by the death of his wife. Pregnant with their child, they had both died in a tragic car accident three years ago. He’d been working instead of taking Darlene to a baby shower. The grief, the guilt, burned within him still at unexpected times. Like now. Clenching his jaw, he shouldered the heavy computer case and left the PICU. With a quick glance down the hall, he saw Jeannine at the nurses’station with her head bent over a chart, a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose.

As he left the hospital and went about his day, the image of Jeannine at the desk stayed with him. She seemed to be a lovely woman, and he hoped that her transition was going to be a good one.

## CHAPTER TWO

JEANNINE entered the PICU on her second morning to pure chaos. Eyes wide, she watched as Dr. Kyriakides argued with Arlene at the nurses’ station.

“I need someone now.”

“No one wants to go, and I won’t force anyone,” Arlene said. “You can’t drag an unqualified nurse off to such a critical situation. It’s just not safe.”

“So you’re going to let an injured child lie in an ambulance outside and do nothing about it?” Miklo asked. “Any nurse will do in this situation.”

Arlene gasped. “That’s not fair, Miklo. The ER is on divert. All the hospitals are on divert.”

Jeannine stepped forward, uncomfortable but digging deep within herself, challenging the fear that always seemed to live in her lately. “What’s the situation? I have ER experience.” The lump remained in her throat, but she had to conquer her fear some time.

Miklo turned his blazing amber eyes on her. “Put your stuff down and come with me right now.”

Jeannine handed her backpack to Arlene. “Will you hold this for me?”

“Jeannine, wait! I’m not sure you’re up to this your second day here,” Arlene said. “I know you wanted to get back into it, but it’s too soon.”

Miklo hesitated, looking between the two women. “Is she qualified or not?” he asked Arlene.

“Yes, but—”

He turned from Arlene and placed a gentle hand on Jeannine’s back, propelling her forward with him. “Let’s go. There’s a child that needs us.”

Barreling down the stairs together, they burst into the ER where staff raced back and forth, the intercom paged a physician, and the sound of muffled crying came from behind a curtain. “Where is—?”

“Let’s try the ambulance bay. They were going to try to take him somewhere else, but in between the other hospitals went on divert, too.” Miklo led the way to the ambulance bay.

Jeannine’s attention was completely taken by the small, motionless patient on the gurney beside an ambulance. Miklo reached for the stethoscope that hung from his neck and listened to the little chest with a nod. “Chest seems okay.” He looked at the paramedic, named Charlie, who stood on the other side of the gurney. “What do we have?”

“Male, approximately six years old, involved in an MVA with his mother, who is in the next ambulance.” He looked at Jeannine. “You’re in the wrong hospital, aren’t you?” he asked.

Jeannine swallowed and gave him what she hoped was a confident smile. “Oh, hi, Charlie. Nope. Moved over to the University Hospital just yesterday.” One day on the job and she’d already been caught like a deer in headlights. Nothing used to stop her in her tracks, so this shouldn’t either.

“Well, it’s good to see you again,” he said, and gave a quick grin. “The kid seems stable right now, but there’s no telling what’s under the dressings. There were so many abrasions and lacerations that we just put saline-soaked gauze on him.”

“Good call,” Miklo said.

Jeannine checked the IV bag to ensure the fluids dripped quickly through the line in his small arm. “Unwrapping his face is not going to be good, I’m suspecting,” Jeannine said as she snapped on a pair of gloves and handed a pair to Miklo.

Sheree, the EMT at the head of the gurney, made a facial grimace. “I didn’t want to try to intubate him in the truck, but he may need it.” She squeezed the ambubag over the boy’s face. “Right now he’s breathing on his own, I’m just giving him extra puffs of oxygen.”

“So far his oxygen level is okay,” Jeannine said after a quick look at the monitor. “Heart rate is high, but not unexpected. Fluids are going in well.”

“As long as his airway is stable, I’ll hold off the intubation until he’s under anesthesia. Let’s have a look at him, and if he’s stable enough we’ll do X-rays and see what’s going on under the wraps.” Miklo reached for the blood-soaked bandages, then hesitated. “Can you get some sedation going?” Dr. Kyriakides asked Jeannine.

“Should we take him inside before we get started?” she asked. “I feel so helpless outside.”

“There’s no trauma room available yet, but there’s a spare treatment room I know of down the hall,” Charlie said.

“Let’s move him there. Jeannine, I’ll count on you to get the medications going.”

“Okay. What do you like to start with?” Jeannine knew her heart was beating about as fast as the boy’s, but adrenaline always flowed quickly during a crisis.

“Morphine.” Dr. Kyriakides gave a quick visual scan of the boy, his gaze serious. “Looks about twenty-five kilos, so give him a morphine dose now with some midazolam for amnesia. We don’t want him to remember any of this, if possible.”

“I’ll have to find the charge nurse first. I don’t know where the medications are kept here,” Jeannine said, and dashed toward the main desk. Minutes later she returned to the small room. With trembling fingers she began to push the meds into the IV tubing. “That ought to do it.” Memories of those particular medications flowing through her own veins tried to push to the surface, but she held the memories at bay. In the midst of a crisis was not the time to remember her own recent trauma. She stroked the hair back from the boy’s forehead. “Just be calm, we’re going to take good care of you,” she said to the unconscious child.

“Okay. Let’s see what we have.” Miklo’s large hands gently peeled away the layers of bandages from the child’s face. Fresh blood oozed from a multitude of cuts and abrasions on the boy’s face and neck. Gently, Dr. Kyriakides opened the boy’s eyelids and flashed a light into them.

“Pupils okay?” Jeannine asked as she went through the neuro checklist.

“Yes. I was looking for glass, but thankfully I don’t see any,” Dr. Kyriakides said. “Until we get X-rays, let’s just leave the gauze on him.”

“Okay. Do you think we should try Radiology right now or do you think they are as slammed as the ER is?” she asked. “He seems stable enough to transport, but I don’t want to sit in X-Ray for an hour, waiting.”

“Let me find out,” Miklo said, and grabbed the phone in the room. After a brief conversation he hung up the phone. “They’ll take us in ten minutes.”

“Great. By the time we get him down the hall, they’ll be ready,” Jeanine said.

Miklo’s strong jaw was tightly clenched and his firm lips compressed into a straight line.

“Doctor? Are you okay?” she asked, wondering if she was intruding on his thoughts.

Miklo turned to her and gave a slight smile. “I’m okay. Waiting for X-Ray makes me crazy sometimes.”

“I know what you mean.” She touched his sleeve, hoping to impart some comfort to him. Though he had said he was okay, she wasn’t sure that was the complete truth. But, having just met him, she was not one to judge.

After multiple facial X-rays and a CAT scan to check for a brain injury, which was negative, the group took the patient straight up to the PICU since the ER had no space.

The boy started to wake up, and Jeannine took his hand. “Hi, there.” With her other hand she stroked his hair. All that was peeking out from beneath the bandages were frightened brown eyes that became wider with each breath he drew.

Miklo stepped away from the x-ray light box and returned to the gurney. “Hi. What’s your name?”

The boy glanced back and forth between Jeannine and Miklo without answering.

“Do you think he’s hearing impaired?” she asked with a frown. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Perhaps they had overlooked an injury to the middle ear, or maybe the boy was hearing impaired. Jeannine chewed on her lower lip, trying to think of all of the ways to communicate with him. “I didn’t see any ear injuries, but I suppose he could have sustained something in the wreck.”

“Let me try something first. Ola. ¿cuál es su nombre?” Miklo asked in Spanish.

Jeannine watched as the boy nodded and tried to speak. Her heart ached as he struggled to communicate, and remembered struggling with the same problem when she had woken up in a hospital bed unsure what had happened to her.

As she remembered her situation, an idea came to her. She rummaged around in a storage cabinet for a moment and returned with a paper printed with the alphabet. “Are you fluent in Spanish, Miklo?” she asked as sudden energy swirled within her.

“Yes.”

“Ask him if he can spell his name, and I’ll hold up the chart.”

Miklo relayed the information. The boy raised his hand and pointed to a series of letters on the communication board. “¿Roberto? Su nombre es Roberto?” Miklo asked, his voice soft as he spoke to the frightened child.

The boy gave a slight nod to verify his name. Jeannine grinned and was relieved to see the small smile Miklo gave her. “Brilliant. Now ask him if he can point out his phone number.” With the mother still unconscious, they needed to find another immediate family member right away.

As Roberto pointed to the numbers, Jeannine wrote them down. “Chances are, whoever answers that number isn’t going to speak English either. Do you want to make the call?” she asked Miklo.

“Sure. Why don’t you go ahead and give him a little more sedation? He’s probably wondering what’s going on and right now I don’t think we can tell him.” Miklo’s serious eyes continued to observe the boy.

Jeannine dialed the number and handed the phone to Miklo. While she listened to the rapid Spanish conversation, she added a few milligrams more medication. This sort of sedation ideally was figured in milligrams per kilogram of the child’s weight. Right now they were giving a low dose, enough to keep him quiet but not enough to put him under completely.

Miklo hung up the phone. “The father’s coming in.” He bent over Roberto and relayed the information in a calm voice.

Jeannine watched as the man made soft eye contact with the boy. This was a man who cared about people. When she’d been hospitalized so many doctors and nurses had taken care of her that she’d lost track of their names and faces over the months. The sense of caring was one she carried with her to this day and motivated her to get out of bed every morning, hoping that she could give that gift to someone else.

Jeannine spoke to Roberto. “I know you can’t understand me, but I’m going to take good care of you.”

Miklo turned and translated softly as she spoke.

“I’m going to stay with you the whole way, okay?” she said, and gave him a smile.

Miklo watched as Jeannine spoke to the boy. She connected with her patients, that was obvious. But there was something about the way she spoke, the way her long fingers stroked Roberto’s hair, and her gentle manner that spoke of compassion running deep in her veins. As if she understood what it meant to be on the other side of the gurney.

“I’m going to have to take him to surgery as soon as the dad signs the operative consent.”

“I thought you were the medical director,” she said.

“I am, but I’m also a maxo-facial surgeon.” Miklo hesitated until Jeannine looked up at him. “I’m wondering if you would be able to accompany Roberto to the OR.”

Jeannine blinked in surprise. “Me?” she squeaked. “I’m not an OR nurse.”

“I know this is out of the ordinary, but I’m not asking you to perform the operation.” Miklo gave a sideways smile. “He hasn’t let go of your hand even under the sedation. Having a friendly face in the OR will go a long way to keeping his stress level down and my repairs in place.”

Jeannine looked down at Roberto’s gauze-covered face and then at the intensity in Miklo’s. Could she refuse to help either one of them? “You’re right. I know that having staff who care about you helps you heal faster.” She was living testament to that. When her fiancé had fled in the face of her tragic illness, she had looked to her family, friends, and the nurses who had cared for her to get her through the worst of her crisis. She gripped the metal side rail with one hand. With her other hand, she touched the neck of her uniform.

“You sound like you have some personal experience in that arena,” Miklo said, watching her with those dark, dark eyes.

Before she could answer, she was interrupted by frantic, rapid Spanish being yelled down the hallway. “I think the father’s here,” Jeannine said with a cringe.

“I’ll get him.” Miklo left the room and returned shortly with a hysterical man who spoke non-stop between sobs.

Miklo explained the situation to him, pointing out the problems of the facial injuries, the IV, and what the plan was. Jeannine produced a clipboard with the Spanish consent form, and the father signed it with a trembling hand. After returning the clipboard, he took a handful of tissues that Jeannine offered him. “Estoy apesadumbrado,” she said, one of the few Spanish phrases she knew, and she was sorry for his pain.

Miklo squeezed the man’s shoulder in a gesture of support as he wiped his tears from his face. “Gracias,” he said, and shook Miklo’s hand as well as Jeannine’s. Tears gathered in her eyes as he struggled to control himself.

## CHAPTER THREE

ROBERTO clung to her hand as Jeannine walked alongside the gurney to the OR. Images she tried to suppress of her own recent trips to the OR attempted to insinuate themselves into her mind, but she forced them back. Now was not the time for a trip down the memory lane from hell.

Miklo bent over the stretcher. He had quickly changed into OR scrubs and a bandanna-style head cover. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a toy race car and placed it in Roberto’s hand, curving the little boy’s fingers around it.

“What do you have there?” she asked.

“Just a little something for him to hold.” Miklo shrugged and offered a quick smile. “I’ve found that children do better with some little token that they hold through procedures. Officially, it’s called a transitional object, but I just like to call it a car.” He shrugged, seeming to dismiss the idea.

Jeannine smiled. “That’s a great bit of insight.” She leaned over and stroked Roberto’s hair back from the bandages on his face. “I should have thought of that.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said.

“Really, it is. Not everyone would go to such lengths to see to the comfort of their patients. Especially the little ones.”

“It’s just a toy car…”

“That will go a long way to keeping Roberto’s stress level down.” She looked at the little car clutched in the bruised fingers. “I could have used one myself not long ago.”

Miklo watched as her mind seemed to wander a bit. What could she have meant by that comment? Observing the slight tremor of her hand, he guessed that it had something to do with the recent change in status she had alluded to yesterday. But it was none of his business. Getting overly involved with staff members’ lives wasn’t part of his job.

He had enough on his plate trying to live with the guilt that still plagued him daily. Taking care of patients and running his practice was all he could handle. Every time he handed a car to a child he was reminded of how he had failed in his life, how he had neglected his pregnant wife when she had needed him most, and of the child that would never be.

Jeannine’s soft hand on his arm startled him from his haunted memory. Looking up, he met her concerned aqua gaze. “Sorry?”

“I said, ‘Are you okay?’” she said, and removed her hand.

Miklo rubbed a hand down over his face. “Lost myself there for a moment. Let’s get this boy inside, shall we?”

“Of course,” Jeannine said, and watched as the man strode to the scrub sink.

After he turned away, a woman dressed in green scrubs approached Jeannine. “I’m Dr. Harrison, anesthesia.”

“Hi. I’m a little lost as to what to do next,” Jeannine said.

Dr. Harrison picked up a syringe and administered medication of some sort into the IV tubing. In seconds, Roberto was completely under. “He’ll sleep now,” Dr. Harrison said, and started to push the gurney down the hall. “Are you coming inside with him?”

“Dr. Kyriakides asked me to come along for emotional support.” Jeannine didn’t know quite how much support she was really going to be able to give Roberto, but she would try her best. No one should go through this situation alone.

“Well, he knows what he’s doing, so if he’s asked you along, there’s good reason for it. Let’s go inside and get him hooked up to my monitors.”

They walked by as Miklo stood at the sink, performing his intensive hand and arm scrub. Even in simple green scrubs and a tied hair cover, Miklo would have commanded the attention of every woman in the area. The simplicity of his attire peeled away everything except the man. He didn’t draw attention to himself intentionally, but something about him drew her to him, and she shivered, trying to resist the whisper of attraction that swept over her.Attraction was what had gotten her into trouble in the first place. She didn’t need a repeat of that disaster.

As if sensing her gaze, or perhaps he had heard the gurney, Miklo turned toward her. His brown gaze met hers, and she held her breath for a second, startled at the intensity of his stare. He was serious, intense, and focused. Only a nod acknowledged her, but that simple gesture released her.

“Here. You can sit by me,” Dr. Harrison said, and pulled a low stool beside her at the head of the bed. OR techs worked on setting up the sterile environment and covered most of the bed with large blue drapes. “Miklo will be close to us, but you’ll be out of his way here.”

“Thank you,” Jeannine said, and sat, relieved to have something solid to hold her up.

Then Miklo entered, covered in sterile garb. He used his foot to scoot a low stool close beside Jeannine. Looking at her through the protective goggles, he gave her a wink of reassurance. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Never further from it,” she said, admitting her insecurity aloud. She’d discovered recently that admitting fears aloud often took the power right out of them. “I’ve had a lot of new experiences lately. What’s one more?”

“Glad to hear it.” Miklo looked at the rest of the staff members. “Everyone else ready?”

Nods all around seemed to satisfy Miklo, and he pulled the gauze away from Roberto’s face.

Despite the gasp that wanted to escape her throat, she was fascinated by the whole operative process. “May I ask questions while you work or will it be too distracting?” she asked in a whisper.

“Ask away. This is a teaching hospital. If the doctors don’t teach something every day we’re not allowed to come back,” Miklo said without looking up.

This time she did gasp, and her eyes widened. “Are you serious?” she asked, then immediately bit her lip. She’d fallen for that one without even looking.

Miklo turned amused eyes on her for a second. “No. You seemed a bit tense. I just wanted to shake you up a little bit.”

“Well, you certainly did that.” She rubbed her nose and tried to calm the flutters in her stomach. “Just for that, you have to answer all my questions.”

“Fire away.”

Jeannine watched Miklo’s gentle hands work their magic over Roberto’s small broken face. Wires and pins were added to keep the fractures stable, but thankfully his little jaw didn’t have to be wired closed. She asked questions through the procedure, but mostly watched. “This is just fascinating,” she said.

“Make you want to be a surgeon now?”

“Hardly.” She almost snorted. “Just gives me a greater appreciation of what you do. And of how fragile we all are.”

After completing the last delicate suture, he snipped the end and turned to her. “Thank you, Jeannine.”

A blush flashed over her face and neck. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

After six hours of surgery, Miklo was glad to be rid of the stifling sterile garb, and he took a deep, cleansing breath. Jeannine walked beside Roberto to the PACU, the post-anesthesia care unit, just outside the OR. Despite not being her area of expertise, she had held up well under the pressure of surgery.

“Are you okay?” he asked Jeannine, and touched her arm. Her skin was soft and he pulled his hand back, resisting the urge to let his hand linger there. Touching a woman had once been something he had done often every day, but since his wife had died, the urge to reach out had faded away.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. That was just a marvelous experience. To see a case from start to finish is a fabulous opportunity. Thank you for including me.” She stood beside Roberto’s bed as the other nurses set up the monitoring equipment. “Should I return to the PICU or should I stay with Roberto?”

“I’ll call Arlene and see if I can keep you here. When Roberto’s recovered enough from the anesthesia, you can follow him back to the unit. It will be a well-rounded day for you then. He’ll need to remain intubated for a while so that the stitches can heal a bit. The sound of your voice will be a comfort for him.” The sound of her soothing voice was a small comfort to him, too, after such a long procedure. The rigors of surgery had always invigorated him until the last few years. Listening to Jeannine’s voice during the procedure had somehow prevented that fatigue from overcoming him. Perhaps her presence wasn’t a comfort to Roberto only.

“I never thought of my voice as a comfort, but I suppose it’s the familiarity of it more than anything, isn’t it?”

Jeannine touched her throat in a gesture of which she was completely unaware. Miklo followed the direction of her hand. He noticed a distinctive, tell-tale scar, and he frowned, his curiosity roused as he observed the pink tissue that hadn’t fully healed. “You are quite right. Your instincts are very good for this sort of work.”

“Will he continue to be sedated so he’s not feeling choked by the tube?”

She dropped her hand, and he examined the scar as unobtrusively as possible. It was definitely a tracheotomy scar that marred the beauty of her otherwise flawless skin. “Yes. He’ll have to stay in the PICU at least for tonight, possibly a few days, while he’s monitored.”

The look in her eyes seemed far off, as if she were looking elsewhere. Maybe she was. Who knew?And was it any of his business why she had a scar? Life was full of people who carried scars, inside and out. And he was one of them. With a mental sigh, he decided he needed something to distract himself from his thoughts. The direction they were headed wasn’t going to be helpful for anyone. Work was his life, his passion, and something he needed to keep his black emotions at bay. Indulging in self-defeating behavior wasn’t something he was going to do.

“Do you need a drink of water, or something to eat? For someone not used to surgery, it can be tough the first time.”

“A cup of coffee would be wonderful.” She flashed a smile. “And a bathroom break,” she whispered, and crossed her eyes briefly.

Miklo almost laughed at her antics. He could appreciate her position. She hadn’t had a break since she had walked in the PICU this morning. For that matter, neither had he.

“Come on. I need a cup of coffee, too.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “The canteen is open. Let’s get lunch and have a real break. Roberto will be fine for a little while.”

Since entering medicine as his father and three brothers had, he’d been focused on his career, with little time for anything else. Every beat of his heart revolved around the hospital. Time with family, stolen moments, and rare evenings off were cherished. Three years ago his family had picked him up from the most painful experience in his life. Now they seemed to have moved on, leaving him to his own devices. He knew it was his fault, but he couldn’t seem to function outside his comfort zone of the medical world. This was his life and others depended on him. That’s what he kept telling himself, what he needed to believe, or he would be on his knees from unimaginable pain and guilt. He had to believe that his time here was not wasted. That he hadn’t sacrificed his family for nothing.

A group of four nervous-looking interns dashed past them on the way out of the canteen. One of them bumped Miklo’s shoulder and brought him back to the present.

“I’ll be right back. You go ahead,” Jeannine said, and ducked into the ladies’ room. In moments she returned with a smile lighting up her face. Finely arched brows over a pair of eyes the color of the sea, her smile seemed to shine just for him, and he took a quick breath.

“You were right, I needed this more than I realized.” She filled a large disposable cup with coffee, added a little sugar and milk, stirred, then placed a lid on it. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He fixed his own cup of coffee and followed her to the grill. After obtaining their orders, they sat at a small table and ate. Miklo took a few bites of his sandwich, then placed it on the plate.

“Not good?” she asked.

Uncomfortable with the question, Miklo shifted position. “I don’t know how to answer that without sounding completely biased.” He picked up the sandwich again, but didn’t eat.

“Oh, do try,” she said with narrowed eyes that sparkled with mischief.

He sighed and leaned forward. “Okay, so I’m half Greek, half Mexican. My uncle owns the best restaurant in town. After eating that kind of food all of my life, a simple sandwich from the hospital grill just doesn’t cut it sometimes. Know what I mean?”

“I can appreciate your position, but as I’ve never eaten Greek food, I can’t pass judgment on you.” She took a bite of her sandwich, seemingly not bothered.

Miklo shot forward in his seat, incredulous. “Are you kidding? You’ve never eaten Greek food?” He leaned back and placed a hand over his eyes. “Woman, you have no idea what you are missing.” He shook his head in amazement.

“Well, maybe some day you can show me.” She laughed and took another bite.

“You’re on,” he said, just as his pager went off.

## CHAPTER FOUR

“I THINK we’re due back in PACU. And Arlene will think I’ve kidnapped you or scared you off completely.”

“Oh, she knows it will take more than something like this to scare me off.” Jeannine walked beside him as they returned to the PACU.

“You’ve been a nurse for a while then?” he asked, and held open the door to the stairwell.

“Yes. I think I’ve worn out fourteen pairs of nursing shoes in the last ten years.”

“That’s a lot of miles.” He opened the doors to the PACU for her, his stride so long she had to lengthen hers to keep pace with him.

“I’ve heard someone say it’s not the miles but the mileage that gets to you.”

Startled by that insightful comment, Miklo sighed. “I’ll go along with that,” he said, thinking of the emotional mileage he’d incurred over the last few years.

“I’m sure you’ve put on a few miles yourself between medical school, residency and your hospital practice.”

“Yes. Seems like I’ve been walking the same one over and over sometimes.”

Before she could respond to that, they arrived at the PACU, and the friendly camaraderie between them faded a little. In this environment the expectations were different. She suddenly didn’t feel as open with him as she had in the canteen when it had just been the two of them at a small table. Oh, well. Not a time to get curious about the medical director.

Two hours passed before the anesthesiologist declared Roberto responsive enough to be transported to the pediatric ICU. Jeannine assisted the PACU nurse to hook up transport monitors and together they moved him upstairs. Although Roberto was not under the influence of the heavier medications any longer, Miklo’s instructions were to keep him slightly sedated.

Arlene appeared at the doorway of Roberto’s room. “Jeannine, are you okay?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“Oh, yes. This has been a fabulous experience,” she said, and placed a small blood-pressure cuff onto Roberto’s arm.

“I was going to get angry with Miklo if he scared you off on your second day on the job.” She moved closer and gave Jeannine a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

“You worry too much. Really. I sat through the operation and then had something to eat, so it’s been a surprisingly good day.”

“Good.” Arlene placed a hand on her chest in obvious relief.

“What’s good?” Miklo asked as he entered the small patient room. Everything in it was designed for children, and with Miklo’s large presence everything seemed to shrink even more.

“Jeannine was just telling me you hadn’t frightened her out of the job today, and I said that was good.”

“She’s been a trouper. But she kidnapped my patient,” he said, and faced Jeannine.

“I did not! Dr. Harrison said he was able to go to PICU, so the PACU nurse called—”

Miklo gave a quick laugh.

“Miklo, stop teasing,” Arlene said, and glanced at Jeannine. “You can sue him for harassment if you like. I’ll be a witness.” Arlene shook her head and left the room.

“You’re not very nice to tease me so many times in one day, Doctor.” Jeannine pulled out a clipboard with Roberto’s chart and began to record his vital signs.

“I have to. Once you’ve been here a while you’ll be too smart to fall for my little tricks.”

Jeannine double-checked Roberto’s IVs and the ventilator settings, made sure of the security of the tube in his mouth that assisted his breathing. Distracting herself from the appeal of Miklo was extremely important at the moment. Though she had recently suffered the biggest letdown of her life when her fiancé had deserted her, she suddenly found herself being pulled against her will toward Miklo. She mustn’t allow herself to be drawn to him. That path only led to self-destruction. Once was enough for her.

“Jeannine? You got very quiet there for a minute. I hope that I haven’t offended you with my comments.” Miklo took a step toward her, concern in his eyes. “I really was just teasing.”

Jeannine swallowed hard as he reached up and removed the cover from his hair, allowing it to fall back over his collar. The dark, luxurious locks fell down in disarray that didn’t impair his looks at all. The man was devastating to her senses, and he didn’t even know it.

“No.” She offered him a smile that was extremely lame. “I’m fine. Just been a long day, you know? Been a long day for you, too, I’m sure. Have anything fun planned for the weekend?” Jeannine asked and busied her fingers writing down vital signs she didn’t really need.

“Me?” Miklo snorted. “Hardly.” He held his hands out, indicating the area around them. “This is my life. Fun doesn’t enter into it.” Taking the stethoscope from around his neck, he listened to Roberto’s lungs.

“I have a hard time believing that you don’t have anything better to do than to hang around here all weekend. Don’t have you have anything to keep you busy?” she asked. She had noticed the absence of a wedding band, but these days that didn’t mean much.

“No.” Now was not the time to tell her he’d given up his life for his family, entirely too late. “How about you?”

“I might get out and take a hike or go to an art show or exhibition. There’s a bunch of stuff going on this weekend. You should try it.”

“Thanks, but I’m more of a museum kind of guy.”

“Really? Why is that?” Jeannine asked. He looked more like a museum guy than a craft show kind of person, but you never knew from looking at a person what they were like inside.

“You can sit in a museum and look at things that don’t talk back to you and rarely have a crisis,” he said, and picked up Roberto’s chart.

“That’s true, but I like being around people, too.” Jeannine wasn’t convinced by his philosophy. Sometimes people needed to interact with each other, rather than just watching life go by. Being alone for too long had made her desperate for company over the last six months.

Miklo rubbed the day-long growth on his face. He smiled a little crookedly in a gesture she was beginning to associate with him. His full mouth moved slightly to one side, but failed to form a complete smile. “My day doesn’t end when the surgery does. There is always much more to do before I leave.” Again he looked around them at the PICU.

“You’d rather go home and have a cold beer, right?” she asked.

Miklo laughed out loud. “You are exactly right. For tonight, though, I’ll turn things over to the intensivist on call.” He grabbed his labcoat from the back of the chair and headed toward the door. “Are you ready to go, too?” he asked, and paused at the doorway.

“Yes. I just need to give the night nurse report on what I’ve done, then I’ll head out. Have a good night and it was a pleasure working with you today.”

“Same here.”

Jeannine gathered the chart and headed to the nurses’ report room.

Just as she left, several family members came in to see Roberto. Miklo explained how the surgery had gone and what the boy’s condition was. By the time he was through answering their questions, Jeannine had returned to the room. She gave Roberto’s face one last stroke. “I’ll be back in the morning,” she said.

“Aren’t you off tomorrow?” he asked, surprised that she would be working her first weekend on the job.

“I am, but I want to come in to see him anyway.” She shrugged and looked away from his vibrant eyes. They saw way too much of the things she carefully guarded. Things that no one here knew about her.

“I’ll walk you out, then,” he said, and slowed his long stride to match hers.

They approached the front door of the hospital and emerged into the early evening twilight. The sun setting over the west mesa cast a muted peach glow low on the horizon. Not a cloud marred the distant sky for miles. Purple hues blended atop the other colors and melded into the approaching evening.

Jeannine cleared her throat and shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Well, good night, Doctor.”

“Miklo, remember?”

“Yes. It’s just hard to get used to change isn’t it? I’m so used to addressing physicians by their titles.”

“I wasn’t always a doctor. Sometimes when I’m addressed as Dr. Kyriakides, I think people are talking to my father.”

“Does your father practice here in Albuquerque?” she asked.

“Yes, but he’s partially retired. Somehow he found the right balance between the obsession of medicine and having a life outside his work.”

“But you haven’t?” she asked, somehow feeling brave enough to ask the question of him.

“No,” he said, and looked away from her. “I haven’t.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve probed too far, Miklo.” She sighed, hoping she hadn’t just ruined her work relationship with him by asking one question too many.

“It’s okay.” He turned to face her again, took a step forward, but hesitated. “You wouldn’t want to go have that beer with me tonight, would you?” he asked, uncertainty in his eyes.

Surprised, Jeannine could hardly believe she heard him correctly. “Sorry?”

“I asked if you wanted to grab a beer with me. You’re off tomorrow, I’m off duty now, and we could both use the break after the day we’ve had.”

It was a reasonable suggestion, wasn’t it? Just two co-workers relaxing together. “Sure, why not?” Jeannine said. The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think.

“How about Olympia’s? It’s my uncle’s place and it’s close.”

“Sure. You know I’ve never been there, so I’m open to another new adventure today.” There wasn’t time to get used to one thing before she had another new thing in front of her today. But, then, there was no time to be scared or say no, was there?

“Why don’t I drive and you can relax on the way over?” he asked, and led her to his car. It was a sleek, silver Jaguar convertible.

Jeannine stopped short. “I don’t think I can relax in a car like that.”

“Come on, it’s just a car,” he said, and opened the door for her. But as she sank into the soft leather seat, she knew it was far from it. This was luxury like she’d never known or ever thought to indulge in. When Miklo folded himself into the vehicle, she shrank back a little, not accustomed to being so close to a man. Not for a long time. And not with someone as vibrant and alive as Miklo was. He breathed energy and life into everything he did. Being so close to someone who exuded that kind of energy was almost intoxicating.

He started the powerful engine and let it idle a moment before shifting into gear. They remained silent as Miklo maneuvered the car through the university area and found a parking place about a block away from Olympia’s.

Jeannine stayed close to Miklo in the near dark of the street until they were in front of the Greek restaurant. “Ready?” Miklo asked.

Jeannine nodded.

He opened the door and allowed her to enter ahead of him. Somehow a table had been crammed into every available spot, but with enough room left for the troupe of dancers working their way around the room.

“Oh, my!” Jeannine said, and turned back to Miklo. His presence so close unnerved her, but she didn’t know where to go inside. “I’ve never seen so many people in one place before,” she said, practically shouting over the boisterous music and conversations. “This isn’t against the fire code, is it?”

“Come on.” Miklo grinned and took her hand in his as they worked their way through the crowd. “I forgot this is Greek Week at the university. It’s absolute madness,” he said close to her ear, and she shivered as his lips touched her skin. “Plus, it’s Friday night. We’ll find a spot, though.”

Jeannine nodded as they plowed their way through the throng of people. She clasped Miklo’s hand tightly, not wanting to lose him in the crowd. And she liked the feel of his hand tight around hers, the feel of his long fingers wrapped around her hand. A man hadn’t held her hand in a very long time, and the gesture of Miklo keeping her close made her remember things long ago and best forgotten.

“Miklo! Over here!” An older gentleman wearing a white apron and waving a bar towel gestured them toward the bar. “How are you, nephew?” he asked, kissing Miklo on both cheeks and giving him a hearty hug. “You’ve waited too long to come and see me. Your auntie misses you, too.”

“Yes, Uncle Seferino,” he said. “But how could you have missed me with all of these people to keep you busy?” Miklo embraced the man with great enthusiasm.

“Oh, the heart knows, my boy. The heart knows,” he said with a slight nod, and then his focus changed to Jeannine. Miklo introduced them. After welcoming Jeannine to his establishment, Seferino led them to the bar and squished two stools together. “Make room for my famous nephew, the surgeon,” he said, and waved his hands to move people out of the way.

Though crowded, space opened up. Miklo assisted Jeannine onto a barstool and took the one beside her. He stiffened slightly as he brushed by her, and her fragrance filled his mind. Though the end of the workday, she smelled clean and fresh and very appealing. Squelching the sudden heat of desire down, he took a gulp of iced water that his uncle placed in front of him.

Uncle Seferino leaned over the bar. “What will you have, my dear?” he asked.

Jeannine glanced at Miklo. “We just came in for a beer.”

“Bah! You can’t survive on that, not with all the hard work you do,” he said, and reached beneath the bar and pulled out two long-necks anyway. “Christo!” he yelled in the general direction of the kitchen. “We need food for your cousin Miklo and his nurse. Make them something.”

Wide eyed, Jeannine reached for the beer and took a sip. Miklo reached for his as well, needing the refreshment the cold drink offered. “Don’t worry. He’s always like that.” Speaking conversationally over the noise and music was impossible, and Miklo leaned closer to Jeannine to hear her response.

“I haven’t been in this sort of crowd since college. I’d kind of forgotten how loud a place like this can be.”

“Did you go to school here?” he asked.

“Yes, but I lived off campus. It was better that way. Not tempted to engage in much socializing.”

“I didn’t think that was possible in the first two years of college,” he said.

“Well, I was very shy and very serious back then.” She shook her head. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“But not any more?” His gleaming eyes told her that he’d already formed an opinion about that.

“I’ve sort of…come out of my shell in the last year or so.” Had been forced to was more like it.

Miklo glanced from her face down her body and then back up again. “You have a very nice shell.”

## CHAPTER FIVE

A SLOW heat burned inside her. Echoes of the past whispered through her, and she struggled to ignore them. Sudden tears formed in her eyes, and she blinked quickly, hoping that Miklo didn’t see.

“I’ve offended you, haven’t I?” he asked, and placed his warm hand on her arm.

“No. I’m just incredibly surprised.” She reached for the beer and took another sip.

“Tears don’t usually form because of surprise,” he said, his breath hot in her ear.

Turning her face slightly, she was close enough to see tiny flecks of gold within the irises of his eyes that were framed by long, dark lashes. The shadow of a beard didn’t make him any less appealing. His mouth was the most sensual thing about him. The way his lips moved, the way he formed her name, made her want to reach out to touch him in a way that was totally inappropriate. A way she was totally unprepared for, and she had to clench her fist to keep it in her lap.

Moistening her lips, she tried to get hold of her senses. If she were a smart woman she would have pulled away from him at that moment. But his pupils dilated as his gaze lingered on her mouth. When he returned his gaze to her eyes, she saw questions in his eyes, the wondering, the hesitation, the hint of desire, and she couldn’t move away from him.

She was definitely not a smart woman. At least not tonight.

All it would take would be moving half an inch forward and her mouth would be pressed against his. Her heart raced and her breathing caught tightly in her throat. Could she do it? Should she do it? Could she take that initiative and reach out to a man again? Or would she have her heart abused all over again?

Miklo’s body tensed at Jeannine’s close presence. She was so very appealing. She laughed, she didn’t take herself too seriously, and she made his heart beat like it hadn’t in way too long. This close to her, even in the middle of a crowded restaurant, he wanted to reach out to her, taste her lips and see if she was as sweet as she looked.

A dancer fell into Miklo’s back, and he pitched forward, almost landing in Jeannine’s lap. She clutched his shoulders to steady him. He grabbed the bar with one hand and her upper thigh with the other, easing his weight off her. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” he asked, and tried to return to his seat. But he was too close to her. Too close to resist temptation any longer.

Before he could think better of it, he turned his face, opened his mouth over hers and pressed a kiss to her startled lips. A tangle of emotions raced through him as her soft mouth trembled beneath his. Though the kiss lasted for just a second or two, he felt the desire vibrate off her.

And then he was back in his seat, the crowded restaurant loud in his ears again, Jeannine’s startled gaze on his.

“Did you just kiss me?” she asked, her eyes still wide with shock.

“I did.”

“Why?” Now the shock turned to suspicion, and he didn’t like that in her eyes.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to.” Indeed, he had.

She touched her lips with trembling fingers. “No one has kissed me in a very long time,” she said.

“Me neither,” Miklo admitted.

Jeannine flopped back against her chair. “Now, I find that hard to believe,” she said, disbelief bright in her eyes.

“It’s an unfortunate truth,” he said, amused at her reaction.

“You work with a zillion nurses.”

“Doesn’t mean I kiss any of them.”

“No, but surely you’ve been out with dozens of them, haven’t you?”

“At one time, but that was long ago and far away.” He took her hand and held it in his. He needed her touch, her warmth. He hadn’t known he needed to be so close to another human being until now. He’d refused to admit he’d needed it for a long time. But he had once been a man who had laughed and loved deeply. And then his world had come crashing down around him.

“Miklo? What are you doing?” she asked, a husky tremor in her voice he heard even over the crowd, but she didn’t pull away from his touch.

“There is something about you that makes me want to touch you, Jeannine. I don’t know why, but touching you is a very pleasant experience.”

“Until you see me naked,” she said, and scoffed.

Miklo roared with laughter. “What makes you say that? I’ve seen plenty of naked women and haven’t fainted yet.”

She glanced down at their entwined hands. “My hands are about the only thing on me that’s pleasing.”

“Now it’s my turn to say I find that hard to believe. You’re a lovely woman, Jeannine. I’m sure every part of you is equally as lovely.”

Adjusting her position, she couldn’t hold his gaze for long and looked away. “I’m not terribly comfortable telling you this, but we’ll be working together, so I’m sure you’ll find out sooner or later.” She drew in a deep breath. “My recent illness was a tubal pregnancy that almost killed me. That’s why I have the trach scar. I was ventilated for a few months. My abdomen and chest are covered in scars from multiple surgeries, so are my arms. That’s why you would run away screaming if you saw me naked.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It doesn’t have to interfere in our working relationship and won’t affect my work performance.”

“I’m not worried about that at all, Jeannine.” He moved one hand and brushed her hair back off of her shoulder. Her hair felt like silk. “But you seem quite bothered by the scars.”

“My fiancé left me because of them and the whole situation.”