Her Greek Doctor's Proposal (2 page)

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Authors: Robin Gianna

Tags: #Fiction, #Medical, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Family Life

BOOK: Her Greek Doctor's Proposal
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A small smile touched his beautifully shaped lips. “Hippocrates could diagnose pneumonia by
listening to a patient’s chest, Ms. Evans. Ancient Greeks were at the forefront of medicine, after all. But believe it or not, even in our small-town clinic we have X-ray equipment and pulse oximetry to measure a patient’s oxygen saturation.”

Somehow, her face flushed hotter than it already was beneath the scorching noon sun. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insulting.” Maybe inserting a little light humor into the awkward moment she’d created was in order. “But I must say, despite the Greeks putting the Omphalos stone at Delphi to show it was the center of the world, many believe Egyptian physicians adopted an ethical code of medical care centuries before Hippocrates.”

His smile broadened; he was seemingly amused instead of offended, thank heavens. “Don’t say that out loud, Ms. Evans, or you may find yourself in a no-win argument with angry locals.”

“Is there any other kind of argument with Greeks?”

“Probably not.” The amusement in his eyes became a dangerously appealing twinkle. “I lived in the United States for fifteen years. I know Americans think everyone outside the US and Western Europe are somewhat backward and simple. If you like, I could go up to the temple
and consult Apollo. Or perhaps pray to Asclepios for guidance?”

“Not necessary. I’m sure you’re very experienced, Dr. Drakoulias. I just…” Her voice trailed off, because she didn’t know what else to say and had a feeling she might stick her foot in her mouth all over again. She sent him a grateful smile, hoping that would make him look past her blunder. “Thank you for walking all the way up here to let me know. Right now, I need to stay at the site to supervise since Mel’s not going to be here. But I’d like to come down this evening to see them. Where’s your clinic?”

“In Kastorini, which is at the base of the mountain above the gulf waters. Just follow the old bell tower to the center of town—you can’t miss us.”

“What’s the address?”

His straight teeth showed in a smile that gleamed white against his brown skin. An unexpected dimple appeared in one cheek, which added another attractive layer to the man who sure didn’t need it. “There are no addresses in Kastorini, Ms. Evans. We’re small enough that everyone finds their way around without.”

No addresses? How did people get their mail and things? She wasn’t about to ask, though, and make even more of a fool of herself. “Well, I’m sure I can then, too. Thanks.”

“I do have a question for you.” All the teasing
humor left his face. “Were both of the Drs. Wagner working in one spot? Somewhere they might have been exposed to a fungus of some kind?”

“Not really. Melanie is in charge of this part of the dig, and Tom leads the dig in the adjacent cave discovered a few years after the initial excavation. Why?”

“Just that it’s unusual for two healthy people to come down with pneumonia at nearly the same time. Which makes looking for an external cause something we need to think about. Has Melanie been in the caves recently?”

Laurel thought hard about what they’d excavated and where they’d dug, but couldn’t come up with anything that might have made them sick. “I’m almost certain she hasn’t been in the caves at all. At least, not since the first days of the dig two months ago. At team meetings, Tom shares the cave dig results weekly, and Melanie shares our results. It’s more efficient that way.”

“All right. We’ll see how they’re both doing tomorrow and decide then if it makes sense to look harder for some connection.” He looked around at the extensive excavation. “I wasn’t living here when Peter Manago tried building a house in this spot and they found the ruins. When was that—five or six years ago?”

Had it been that long? Five years since her family’s shocking loss that had turned her world
upside down? A loss that seemed like yesterday, and yet, in other ways, felt like forever ago.

“I think that’s about right.” She swallowed hard at the intense ache that stung her throat. “Have you been up here to check it out?”

“No, but I’ve been wanting to. Is it filled with treasures offered to Apollo and the oracle?” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Everyone who grew up around here used to dig giant holes—or at least giant to us—that we were sure would expose a sphinx, or the Charioteer’s horses, or something else that would make us rich.”

“And were you one of them?”

“Oh, yes. Born and raised in Kastorini. Many a goat has likely fallen into one of my ‘digs.’ But after finding only rocks and more rocks and the occasional very exciting animal bone, I decided becoming a doctor might be a better way to make money.”

She had to laugh. Money was definitely not the reason anyone dug in the dirt for a living. “No doubt about that.”

“You must be finding something, though, or they wouldn’t have been working at it for so long. What’s here?” He looked around at the carefully plotted-out sections of earth. “Tell me about these squares you have marked off.”

“Much of the time when you unearth a site that’s several thousand years old, it’s a bit like
a layer cake. The oldest part of a settlement is at the bottom, with artifacts that reflect how the people lived then. Vessels used for cooking, style of art that’s found, even the way a wall might be built, all can change a lot from the bottom of the cake to the top. But this site?” She loved sharing the excitement of this place with people who were interested. “The layers aren’t there. There’s no cemetery. No human remains, despite the number of buildings that housed probably a hundred people at a time. Which convinces us that it was temporary housing for pilgrims visiting Delphi.”

“Interesting. How long, do you think?”

He stopped scanning the site to look at her with rapt attention in his beautiful eyes, and a dazzling smile that momentarily short-circuited her brain. What had she been talking about, exactly? “How long what?”

“How many centuries did the pilgrims come to stay here?”

“Oh.” The man probably thought she was dense. “About five hundred years, we think. Amazing that people came here to consult the oracle and worship Apollo all that time.”

“Did the small earthquake we had a couple weeks ago damage anything?”

That earthquake had scared everyone, but especially Laurel. When the earth had rumbled
around them, her heart had about stopped as the vision of how she’d been told her parents had died had surged to the forefront of her mind. The quake had lasted only a few minutes, but her insides had shaken for hours.

“Some rocks and earth loosened and fell into the pits, but it wasn’t too bad, thankfully.”

“That’s good.” He seemed to be studying her and she wondered what her expression was, quickly giving him a smile to banish whatever might be there. “Do you have any photos of the things you’ve found?”

“We do. A number of tools and potsherds have been reassembled and I have pictures in a binder in that box. This section here,” she said, showing him a large, cordoned-off rectangle, “is where several inscribed stones were found that are similar to the ones at the Temple of Apollo.” And one of those stones was etched with the cryptic words that had convinced her mom and dad they’d find the priceless artifact Laurel was still looking for. That part had to be kept secret from most people, but she could show him the rest.

She pulled the reference binder from the supply box and flipped through it to show him a few of the best photos. They stood close together, the hair on his muscular forearm tickling her skin, his thick shoulder nudging hers, his head angled close enough to nearly skim his cheek against her
temple. He smelled so wonderful, like aftershave and hunky man, that she found herself breathing him in. So enjoying his interested attention, she suddenly realized she’d gone on way too long.

“Sorry.” She closed the book, feeling her face flush yet again, and not just from the blasting heat on the mountain. “I get a little overexcited sometimes.”

“No. I’m fascinated.” There was something about his low tone and the way he was looking at her with a kind of glint in the dark depths of his eyes that had her wondering if he meant something other than the dig. That thought, along with how close he still stood to her, kicked her heart into a faster rhythm and made her short of breath, which she knew was absurd. But surely there wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t swoon at least a little over Andros Drakoulias.

“My sisters tell me that when I talk about my work, I need to remember to look for eyes glazing over when I go on and on. Sorry.”

“Had you been looking, you’d have seen my eyes were most attentive. And you should never apologize for talking about something you love.”

The deep rumble of his voice, the warmth in it, seemed to slip inside her, and for a long moment they just looked at one another, standing only inches apart, before Laurel managed to snap out of whatever trance he’d sent her into. She
sucked in a mind-clearing breath and turned to shove the binder back into its box.

“You’ve hurt yourself.” His strong arm came around her side, brushing against her as he reached for her hand. His head dipped close to hers again as he turned her palm upward, his fingers gently tugging loose the tape and bandage to expose the darn gash that had started bleeding again.

“It’s nothing.” She swiped at the trickle of blood, trying to tug her hand from his, but he held it tight. “I cut it on a potsherd. I’ll bandage it up better when I’m done for the day.”

“When was your last tetanus shot?”

“Just before I came here, Dr. Drakoulias. Cuts and scrapes are one of the hazards of this job.”

“I know. Last summer, I had to treat one of the workers on this dig for sepsis.” His gaze pinned hers, his former warmth replaced by a stern, no-nonsense look. “When you come to see the Wagners, I’ll clean and bandage it for you.”

She opened her mouth to assure him she could take care of it just fine, but the words died on her tongue. The wide palm that held hers was firm yet gentle, and something about his authoritative expression told her any protest would fall on deaf ears. Part of her didn’t want to protest, anyway. She realized, ridiculously, that it felt…nice to have someone want to take care of it for her.
Probably because, for a long time, she’d been the nurse, cook, decision maker and overall helper for her sisters, without a soul to assist with all their challenges. Or, except for Tom and Mel, her own.

She reminded herself it wasn’t as if there were anything personal about it, the man was just doing his job. “Not necessary. I have everything I need to clean and bandage it at my hotel.”

“Necessary.” His eyes still on hers, he slowly released her hand. “I’ll see you at the clinic at, say, six o’clock?”

It was loud and clear she’d be in for an argument if she refused, and what sane woman would anyway? “Thank you. I’ll be there.”

The warmth of his palm lingered along with a little flutter of her heart as she watched him steadily stride back down the path, and she shook her head at herself. Mooning after the man was ridiculous, supersexy or not, since the dig was over in a matter of weeks and every second of her focus had to be on what she’d come here to accomplish.

She was already so late getting her career started. By the time her parents were her age, their accomplishments had been featured in numerous archaeological magazines. She could still hear them pointing out how they’d finished their PhDs in just four years, chiding their oldest about
her schoolwork and GPA, about how important it was to be a role model to her sisters. Doubtless they would be disappointed in her if they were still alive. She dropped to her knees to get digging again.

The best way, the only way, she could begin to catch up, keep their memory alive, and make them proud, was by doing whatever she could to finish their work then finally get going on her own.

CHAPTER TWO

H
OURS LATER
L
AUREL
was finally able to shower off the film of dirt that clung to every bit of exposed skin, before studying the cut on her hand. It was less than an inch long, but deeper than she’d realized, which was probably why it kept opening up and bleeding. She washed it out with peroxide and knew that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have Andros Drakoulias make sure it was clean. Which of course had nothing to do with liking the feel of her hand in his.

The feeble hair dryer in the old, rambling Delphi hotel that the excavation team had rented rooms in for the summer blew about as much air as she would trying to cool a bowl of soup. The impact on the dampness of her long blond hair was practically nil, and she had to wonder why she’d decided to dry it anyway, when she usually just pulled it back.

She shook her head as she wrapped an elastic around her ponytail. Who was she kidding?
She knew the reason, which was a certain megahunky Greek doctor her vain side wanted to look good for.

She threw on a sundress, swiped on a gloss of lipstick, and headed out of the door. Already perspiring again from the shimmering heat, she slipped inside the group’s equally hot rented sedan. She nosed the car down the winding road out of Delphi, and, before she turned onto the highway, paused for a moment to take in the incredible view.

On every horizon, partly sheer cliffs scattered with pines met tumbles of boulders that looked as though they’d been broken apart then glued back together by some giant hand, or perhaps the gods and goddesses of Greek lore. The mountains cradled the valley below, filled with the distinctive silvery-gray leaves of an endless, undulating sea of olive trees that went on as far as she could see. Where the valley ended, the trees seemed to flow right into the Gulf of Corinth, the water such an incredible azure blue that, every time she saw it, she felt amazed all over again. And beyond that azure sea, another range of mountains met the sky that today was equally blue, but at times reflected an ethereal beauty when mistiness embraced the entire scene.

Just looking at it filled her with a reassuring sense of tranquility, the same way walking the
ancient Delphi ruins did, hearing the voices of the past. Before she left, she’d take her camera on one last hike of this historic place that still felt so untamed. To remember it by.

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