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Greek Doctor Claims His Bride
Margaret Barker
‘It’s such a relief that we got here in time,’ Manolis said, taking her hand again in what seemed to have become a natural instinct. ‘It could have been otherwise.’
In the moonlight she could see his eyes shining with happiness as he looked down at her. ‘We could be such a good team you and I—I’m talking professionally, you understand,’ he added quickly. ‘It felt so right working together just now. We seemed to sense that…’
‘Yes, I felt the rapport between us was…natural,’ she said quietly.
He lowered his head and kissed her gently on the mouth.
Oh, those lips—those sexy, wonderful lips. She’d never thought she would ever feel them on hers again. She’d cried with frustration when she’d realised how much she wanted him, and he was never coming back.
But here he was.
Margaret Barker has enjoyed a variety of interesting careers. A State Registered Nurse and qualified teacher, she holds a degree in French and Linguistics, and is a Licentiate of the Royal Academy of Music. As a full-time writer, Margaret says, ‘Writing is my most interesting career, because it fits perfectly into family life. Sadly, my husband died of cancer in 2006, but I still live in our idyllic sixteenth-century house near the East Anglian coast. Our grown-up children have flown the nest, but they often fly back again, bringing their own young families with them for wonderful weekend and holiday reunions.’
Greek Doctor Claims His Bride
Margaret Barker
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
Chapter One (#u319b7d90-9428-5743-9749-48e90453d5cf)
Chapter Two (#u833cf504-2941-5e6a-bc2d-52e8901e10cc)
Chapter Three (#u7f3d9b41-53df-5af1-a186-cb47341f8024)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
TANYA hurled the mop with the spider still clinging to it straight out of the window. It was a trick she’d learned from her grandmother when she had been very small and absolutely petrified of the giant spiders that had scurried along the floor of her bedroom.
“Just pick up a mop, dangle it over the spider and it will cling on, thinking it’s found a friend,” Grandmother Katerina had told her all those years ago, and it was still a good solution.
“Ouch!”
The sound of a deep masculine voice muttering a few choice Greek expletives rose up from the courtyard below her window. Tanya leaned out so that she could see the swarthy man beneath her and for a brief moment she thought she might be dreaming. It couldn’t be…no, the low evening sunshine was playing tricks with her eyes…Manolis Stangos was in London, not here on the island…wasn’t he?
“Tanya?”
“Manolis?”
“For a moment I thought you were Grandmother Katerina moving back into her old house.”
He was speaking rapidly in Greek as if to a stranger, none of the smooth, silky tones he’d used when they had been together all those years ago. Tanya ran a hand over her long auburn hair. She was sure her afternoon cleaning session had done nothing to help her jet-lagged appearance. A cobweb was still clinging to her hand but thankfully the large scary spider was now scuttling away across the courtyard.
“Thanks very much! I know it’s a long time since you saw me but I can’t have aged all that much. Anyway…” Tanya swallowed hard as she rubbed a dusty hand over her moist eyes “…Grandmother—Katerina—died a few months ago…”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that you were the last person I expected to see here.”
His voice was softer now. Tanya took a deep breath as she tried to remain calm. This unexpected encounter was playing havoc with her emotions.
“Considering it’s now my house, I feel I’ve every right to be here.”
“I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you. Aren’t you going to come down and check if you’ve fractured my skull with that mop, Dr Tanya?”
He smiled, and she could see the flash of his strong white teeth in his dark, rugged face.
“News filtered through to me in London that you’d qualified. I always knew you would in spite of…in spite of everything that might have stopped you.”
She looked down at Manolis and found herself relaxing.
“I’ll come down and check you out, although you could surely do that yourself, Dr Manolis,” she said as she turned away from the window, taking her time to negotiate the narrow wooden staircase.
By the time she’d reached the tiny, low-beamed kitchen, Manolis had come in through the open door. Nobody ever closed their doors on this idyllic island of Ceres where she’d been born. Doors were closed when you went out. That was to make sure a stray goat or donkey didn’t wander in and help itself to the food in the larder, but the key to the house was always left in the lock on the outside so that friends and neighbours would be able to get in if they needed to.
Meeting up with Manolis again after six long years had almost taken her breath away. She’d forgotten how handsome he was. Eight years older than her, he must be…what? Quick mathematical moment…thirty-six, because she was twenty-eight.
She remembered them celebrating her twenty-second birthday together. She’d just told him she was pregnant. She remembered how shocked he’d looked, how confused she’d felt.
“OK, are you going to check whether you’ve cracked my skull?”
“Sit down, Manolis. You’re too tall for me to check it when you’re towering above me, and you make me nervous.”
“Nervous?” Manolis laughed. “When were you ever nervous of me?”
He pulled a chair out from under the check-clothed table and sank down, spreading his long legs out in front of him. She remembered that as a child when the impossibly tall Manolis had come into her grandmother’s tiny kitchen he’d seemed to fill the whole room. She’d tried so hard to get his attention in those far-off days but he’d barely seemed to notice her.
“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…”
