Greek Doctor Claims His Bride

“Keep still, will you?”

Her fingers were actually trembling as she smoothed back the thick black hair that framed his dark, rugged face. How many times had she run her fingers through his hair? And yet her reaction had always been the same. That sexy frisson she got from simply touching him. It travelled all the way down through her body and before she knew it her legs were turning into jelly, and as for her insides—well, that was almost impossible to cope with at such close quarters.

She sat down quickly on a chair. Her eyes were almost level with his.

“I can’t see anything wrong with your forehead. Not a mark on it. You’re just making a fuss about nothing.”

If she continued using her bantering tone she could cover up the fact that she was so deeply moved she wanted to give in to her impossible desire. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. She wished she could turn the clock back to the time when they’d been so deliriously happy, so madly in love.

Manolis stirred on the small hard chair, unable to believe that he was so close to Tanya again. He had to clench his hands to stop himself reaching out and pulling her into his arms. Desire was rising up inside him, that familiar stirring in his loins that wouldn’t cease until they’d made love again. But that would never happen. He’d known when she’d turned down his proposal of marriage for the second time that he would never try again. She was lost to him for ever and they couldn’t go back.

“I think you’ll live,” Tanya said as she resisted the temptation to place her lips on his forehead in the pretence that she was kissing it better.

For a moment she wondered how he would react if she gave in to temptation. She could try…but he had a hard look on his face now. The moment had passed.

“I’ve got to go,” he said evenly.

“Does your mother still live on the end of the street? Are you visiting her?”

He hesitated. “She still lives there. But actually I bought the house next to yours when I came back to Ceres a couple of years ago.”

“Next door? In Villa Agapi?” She drew in her breath. Agapi was the Greek word for love. She had just come to live in Villa Irini, which meant peace. Love and peace next door to each other.

“Manolis, are you here on holiday?”

“I work here on the island again. I wanted to return and it was better for…”

He broke off as the sound of a child’s voice came from the street.

“Papa, Papa? Where are you?”

Manolis hurried through the courtyard and stood by the open door that led to the street.

“Papa!” The little girl flung herself at him. He lifted her high into the air. She was laughing and screaming with delight as he lowered her into his arms.

Tanya remained absolutely still as she watched the joyous reunion of a little girl with her father. Her hands were clenching the side of the table to steady herself as she listened to the rapid non-stop Greek words that flowed from the child as she told her father she’d had the most exciting day. It emerged that she’d brought her papa a picture she’d painted at school but she’d put it down on a stone at the side of the path as she’d bent to take her shoes off because she hated wearing shoes when it was hot and the wind had blown it away and she wanted to paint another one now as soon as they got home because…

The story came out in one long breath. As she listened to the chatter, Tanya felt tears prickling behind her eyelids. This child, this beautiful little girl, couldn’t be much younger than the child she’d lost. Their child. She and Manolis should have had a child like this one but…

“Chrysanthe, agapi mou,” Manolis said, setting his excited daughter down on the cobbles of the courtyard. “Come inside and meet an old friend of mine. Tanya, this is Chrysanthe.”

The little girl hurried across the small courtyard and through the open door of the kitchen, smiling, friendly, totally trusting.

Tanya tried to swallow the lump in her throat. This wasn’t what she’d thought would happen today. It was all too poignant. Her confused emotions were draining her strength away. She reached out a hand towards the child.

Chrysanthe smiled as she placed her hand in Tanya’s. A pretty little dimple had appeared in the adorable child’s cheek. Who did she get that from? Must have been from her mother. The unknown woman who’d obviously taken Tanya’s place so soon after they’d split up. How could he have met up with someone and conceived a child so quickly?

“Do you live here, Tanya?” Such a lovely lilt to the lisping childish tone.

Tanya cleared her throat. “Yes. I’ve just moved in today.”

“I like your hair.” The little girl took her hand out of Tanya’s and reached up to stroke her auburn hair. She looked up at her father. “Daddy, why couldn’t my hair have been this colour?”

Oh, no, please don’t say things like that!

Tanya heard Manolis’s swift intake of breath.

“It’s very…unusual,” he said quickly. “You can’t…er…choose which colour your hair will be when you’re born. Sometimes the colour comes from your daddy and sometimes from your mummy.”

“My mummy’s got blonde hair but she says it’s out of a bottle. Could I get some of this colour out of a bottle, Tanya?”

“You probably could, but I prefer your hair the colour it is.”

“Like Daddy’s?”

Tanya swallowed hard. “Yes, like Daddy’s.” Her eyes met Manolis’s and she turned away to avoid the poignancy of this discussion.

“Did you have a good journey, Tanya?” Manolis said quickly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“I’m always relieved when I get here because it seems to take for ever.”

“Where did you come from?” Chrysanthe asked.

“Australia.”

“Australia? My daddy used to live there, didn’t you, Daddy?” The little girl had started to speak English now. “He told me all about it. It’s a long way from here, isn’t it? It’s got lots of croccy…What are they called, Daddy?”

“Crocodiles.”

Tanya noticed his voice was husky. He was reaching down and hoisting his daughter onto his shoulder.

“Your English is very good, Chrysanthe.”

“My mummy’s English. Are you English or Greek, Tanya?” The little girl looked down at Tanya from Manolis’s shoulders.

“I’m both—like you. English mummy, Greek daddy. But I was born here on Ceres.”

“I was born in England but I like living here best. Daddy used to bring me out to stay with Grandma Anna and all my cousins. I love being in my grandma’s house. It’s such fun playing with my cousins. Look, I can touch the ceiling! Daddy, I can touch the ceiling!”

“Tanya, I’ll take Chrysanthe away and we’ll leave you in peace. I’m sure you’ve got lots to do still.”

Peace! How did he ever think she could be at peace when there were so many questions to be answered? She’d come back here to escape her stressful life in Australia but had never imagined she would have to face the turmoil of the past. Yes, she’d come to find peace but that wouldn’t happen now, not while she was living next door to Manolis.

Manolis cleared his throat. “I know you’ve had a long journey, Tanya, but would you consider coming out for supper with me this evening?”

She’d never heard him sound so nervous. As if he was expecting her to squash the idea as impossible. Well, she had turned him down just before they’d split, only to bitterly regret it when it had been too late to change things.

“That would be after I’ve settled Chrysanthe with Mother. She stays with her when I’m on call. My mother has a huge bedroom—with plenty of room for her grandchildren—and they all love to stay there. We’re a very close family, as you know, and…”