At The Greek Boss's Bidding. Jane Porter

was to provide medical care, not morality lessons. But, even acknowledging that it wasn’t her place to criticize, she felt her tension grow.

      Despite her best efforts, she resented his poor-me attitude, was irritated that he was so busy looking at the small picture he was missing the big one. Life was so precious. Life was a gift, not a right, and he still possessed the gift.

      He could love and be loved. Fall in love, make love, shower someone with affection—hugs, kisses, tender touches. There was no reason he couldn’t make someone feel cherished, important, unforgettable. No reason other than that he didn’t want to, that he’d rather feel sorry for himself than reach out to another.

      “Because, for whatever reason, Mr. Koumantaros, you’re still here with us, still alive. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Live. Live fully, wisely. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for those who didn’t escape the avalanche that day with you.” She took a deep breath. “Do it for Cosima. Do it for Andreas.”