One Night With Dr Nikolaides. Annie O'Neil

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 in his groin. What the hell? He was supposed to be exhausted, not horny.

      “I’ll sit with my back turned.”

      “Yeah.” Cailey’s hands landed solidly on her hips. “I don’t think so. Say what you need to say and then...” She swirled her finger around in an out-you-go gesture.

      “Fair enough.” Despite himself, he grinned. She was setting parameters. The old Cailey would’ve been too shy to be so feisty. This new Cailey was becoming more appealing by the minute.

      Another tug below his belt line broadened his smile. Quite an impact for an unexpected reunion. One of the earthquake’s silver linings, he supposed. Maybe she was strong enough now to stand up to his father.

      She pursed her lips and tipped her head from side to side in a when-are-you-going-to-get-going? move.

      Fine. He got the message. “Right. Here’s the story. All hell’s broken loose. As you probably know, the quake was strong. It hit this side of the island hardest. A lot of old buildings weren’t up to the magnitude. It hit in the afternoon—”

      “I know. I know all that,” interrupted Cailey impatiently. “I saw the news. Late lunch. Quiet time. Lots of people taking naps... Only the Brits mad enough to go out in the sunshine. You should probably know I specialize in pediatrics and maternity nursing, so if it’s—”

      “You’ll be working with me in urgent care,” he cut in. He didn’t care how bolshie she was. He was going to look after her, and the easiest place to do that was in his trauma unit.

      “I haven’t done trauma for over a year.”

      “But you’ve done it. And that’s where I need you. Case closed,” he said firmly before she could protest.

      Her shoulders shot up, her mouth opened, but when she saw his stance go rock-solid she dropped the challenge with a flick of a shrug.

      “Casualties? Any idea of the scope yet?” she asked.

      “Hundreds.” Theo shook his head. “I don’t know. Several hundred at the very least. The island’s got...what?...fifteen or twenty thousand people on it, so it could be more. Patients are presenting with injuries hitting every level of the spectrum, from cuts and bruises to...well...” His mood sobered at the thought of the older gentleman who’d had a fatal heart attack earlier in the day. “Worse than cuts and bruises.”

      Unexpectedly, Cailey reached out and took his hand. “Are you sure you don’t need some rest? You look awful.”

      “Ha! Thanks. Don’t beat around the bush anymore, do you, Cailey?”

      She gave him a sad smile. One that said, I think you might know why.

      The door to the locker room swung open and with it came the chaos and mayhem of the quake’s aftermath.

      “Dr. Nikolaides?” The nurse was halfway out through the door already. “There’s a helicopter on approach to collect a couple of patients. We need you to sign off on them. And the ambulance is pulling up now.”

      “Of course.”

      He brusquely pointed toward a cabinet. “There are spare scrubs in there. All sizes. Report to trauma when you’ve changed. You’re working with me. And that’s an order.”