Tempted By Dr Patera
If he’d expected to see a quick show of pity on this new doctor’s face, though, he was sorely disappointed. She met his gaze with steady green eyes that gave nothing away.
That was probably the psychiatrist in her. She was trained to listen without judging. Not to seem shocked or horrified, no matter how ugly the story. Or how hideous the outward appearance.
His dad—after a rare crack had appeared in his chilly demeanor—had once sent him to a shrink in Athens, six months after the accident. But Deakin, his scars still fresh and painful, had refused to say anything. After four sessions of sitting there in sullen silence they’d given up. All of them—including the psychiatrist.
He tried to recall what Lea had been talking about moments earlier, working to forget the way those white teeth had captured that full bottom lip in a way that was far too sexy for a psychiatrist.
He switched to English so those around would be less likely to understand them if she tried to ask about his scars. “So, what part of Greece were your parents from?”
“Athens—like you thought. My dad was a welder and went to Canada to help with the building of one of the Orthodox churches. He ended up staying.” She sent a lock of long dark hair spinning over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist. “He sent for me and my mom a few months later, and we went, sight unseen. But we love it there now.”
The switch in language hadn’t thrown her for a loop. In fact her English was as flawless as her Greek. He knew himself well enough to know that his Greek accent was still fairly strong, even after years of speaking English in other countries.
“You don’t ever get homesick for Greece?”
“Not really. I was a kid when things changed.”
That he understood. He didn’t get homesick either. And he’d also been a kid when things had changed. Only, unlike for her, the change hadn’t been a good one for him.
She went on. “Besides, you can find Greeks on almost every street corner.”
“You can, indeed.” Deakin had found pockets of Greek communities almost everywhere he’d gone. “Well, shall we get started? Are you only seeing patients who need counseling?”
“No, we’ve been kind of short-staffed, as you can imagine, so I’ve been helping wherever I can. The immediate injuries from the quake have been taken care of, but there are still issues—broken bones, lacerations that have become infected... Burns. But I have been seeing patients who are struggling to cope with the after effects of the earthquake. It’s what I specialize in. People dealing with PTSD.”
He tried to ignore the way she’d hesitated before saying the word “burns.”
“PTSD from time served in the military?”
“No, civilian for the most part. Trauma comes in many forms.”
Yes, it did. He wasn’t sure if she was subtly trying to dig into his past struggles, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. He didn’t need someone probing where they didn’t belong.
Time to get to work.
Just then Petra came back from wherever she’d been and glanced his way. She did a double-take, her eyes widening.
“Deakin!”
She rushed through the door to the waiting room and grabbed him in a strong, matronly embrace.
Her graying locks were scraped back into a bun and dark-rimmed glasses were pushed on top of her head. The combination gave her a no-nonsense appearance. One that was well-deserved. She could be formidable when she wanted to be.
“It’s about time you came home.”
He stiffened at that word. This wasn’t his home. Not anymore. But at least her presence took Dr. Risi’s attention off him.
“I’m sure you’re keeping the clinic running like a well-oiled machine.”
She dropped her glasses onto her nose and peered at him over the top of them. “It’s not easy, let me tell you.”
“I’m sure. Did Chris or Ares make it home yet?”
“No. Not yet. But I’m hopeful you will all be reunited soon. It’s been too long.”
“Yes, it has.”
While he didn’t miss the island, he did miss his friends.
“So, Theo has been handling the crisis alone?” He’d thought maybe the others would have made it back sooner than him.
“Well, he has Cailey now. She’s been a huge help. And Lea has been aprosdókito kaló. She’s very organized. And beautiful, don’t you think?”
Color bloomed in the psychiatrist’s face. Petra had called the doctor a godsend. And beautiful.
And Petra was right. She was very attractive. Dark-lashed eyes gleamed with purpose beneath arched brows. And with each upward curve of her lips high cheekbones appeared.
And yet there was something lurking just beneath the surface. He’d caught glimpses of it when she’d talked about PTSD. Did her patients’ pain affect her on a personal level? He knew from experience that as much as you tried to maintain an emotional distance there were some patients who touched something inside you.
His own throat tightened whenever he was called on to treat a child who’d suffered horrific burns or who had lost limbs from incendiary devices or from IEDs. It was why he did what he did.
“I think you’ve embarrassed Dr. Risi, Petra.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine. And please call me Lea. We all tend to be informal around here.”
The way she said that make him take a closer look at her. She didn’t sound fine. Did she think the older woman was trying to set them up somehow? Well, she needn’t worry. He wasn’t about to start a romance with anyone—especially not someone with ties to this island.
But she didn’t have ties—had said she didn’t get homesick for Greece. She was a temporary visitor, that was all. She wasn’t staying on the island for long.
The image of those teeth gripping that lip in a tight embrace sashayed across the backs of his eyelids, playing peekaboo with a neglected part of his anatomy. He could think of a way to make her do that all over again. For very different reasons.
He stopped that thought in its tracks. Not happening. She could be leaving tomorrow for all he knew.
His job didn’t lend itself to relationships. And that suited him just fine. Theo might have found true love, but that was something Deakin neither wanted nor needed. Because relationships meant exposing the worst of yourself to someone else.
Lea pushed that errant strand of hair over her shoulder once again and glanced out over the waiting room, which was gradually clearing out.
“It may not look that way, but this is one of our slower times.” She looked at the sign-in sheet. “It’ll stay that way until after lunch.”
Deakin was having a hard time understanding why exactly he was even here. Could he fly out before Theo realized he had arrived?
“Are you still seeing new injuries?”
“Some. There are a few buildings that still aren’t stable. So we’re seeing crush injuries. And with those unstable buildings come gas lines and electric wires, so there’s a chance of electrocution and burns—”
She was still talking, but that last word was all he heard in that moment. It was the second time she’d said it.
Deakin’s father had replaced his boat. It was right there in the rebuilt boathouse. Leaving it to Deakin in his will had seemed like the ultimate slap in the face, but since they’d left everything else to him as well it probably hadn’t been meant like that. But Deakin had kept it, taking that vessel out for a spin every time he came home—which wasn’t often. But the guests that booked his home were granted full use of the grounds—including his Jeep and the boat.
“Hello?” Lea snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Are you okay?”
He frowned, hating being caught thinking about his past. “I’m fine. I’m just dealing with a serious case of jet lag. I need a shave and a shower.”
“You must be exhausted. Did you come straight here after landing on the mainland?”
“Yes, but I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but it had nothing to do with being tired.
There was no way he was going to share any of that with her. Temporary visitor, remember?
Petra interrupted. “I talked to your aunt this morning. She was sure you were arriving today and said to send you straight over to the house. She’s put a moussaka in the fridge for you.”
His Aunt Cecilia was in charge of renting out his parents’ house and his cottage to tourists. It seemed better than letting them sit empty and untended.
“Great.” He glanced at the wall behind the reception desk, frowning when something caught his eye.
Dammit. What was that doing there?
He shook his head and tried to continue his thought. “Where did you end up staying?” he asked Lea.
“At a private cottage a few miles from here.”
Petra laughed. “A few miles from here in that direction.” Her hand waved a few times in the air before pointing to the west.
There probably weren’t all that many bed and breakfasts operating right now. Not that the damage to the island was horrific, but he could pretty much guarantee that tourist income was down. Hadn’t his aunt said that his house had been sitting vacant ever since the earthquake? Who wanted to vacation in a place torn apart by a natural disaster?
He couldn’t think of anything on the west side of the island except for the expensive houses owned by people like his parents. Although... His house was in that general—
“Whose cottage?”
The receptionist smiled wickedly, while Lea looked thoroughly confused. “Theo, Cailey and your aunt figured it was the best place to house her, since the hotel she was staying at was damaged by the quake. So she’s staying in the cottage, Deakin. Your cottage.”
CHAPTER TWO
THIS WAS DEAKIN’S HOUSE?
She set a skillet on a burner to heat and gritted her teeth.
Why hadn’t Theo told her? She’d assumed it was a relative’s house or something. But the tiny white building behind the opulent house was perfect, and she loved staying there. The formal manicured grounds here made the Serenity Gardens look like something out of a dollhouse, although it was a gorgeous setting. The clinic’s grounds were informal, while the house she was staying so close to screamed money. Even the boathouse had a tiny apartment over it.
She had never really stopped to think about who on the island could afford something like this. Theo had said he and his friends’ parents had been part of something called Mopaxeni Shipping. They’d all been wealthy. She didn’t know the whole story, and although the clinic was state of the art she had gotten the impression that they were only scraping by and looking for fundraisers.
Like that calendar over the desk in the main entryway at the clinic that boasted photos of twelve very hunky locals. Some of them were doctors, or employees of the clinic, and others were firefighters or involved in other lines of public service.
Deakin was somewhere in the main house at this very moment. It had been more than obvious that he wasn’t happy with her being here. The look on his face when he’d realized exactly which cottage Petra was talking about had been priceless...and embarrassing. But unless she just wanted to leave the island there wasn’t much she could do about it. And she was enjoying the work far too much to let Deakin’s grumpiness drive her away.
The property was usually rented out when Deakin wasn’t there, Theo had finally admitted when she’d called him and confronted him about the cottage. He hadn’t been positive Deakin would come back when he’d offered it to her, and they’d needed her at the clinic. And for that to happen she’d needed someplace to sleep. It had been the only logical solution.
That didn’t make it the most comfortable one now that Deakin was home. He’d claimed it didn’t bother him to have her staying there, but his voice told another story.
Cracking an egg, she listened to the satisfying sizzle as it hit the heated oil, the earthy scent filling the air, making her mouth water.
She made her way to the refrigerator for some orange juice, pulling a small glass from a cupboard on the way. She could do this. From what she’d heard about Deakin, a plastic surgeon who specialized in treating burns victims, he didn’t stay in one place for any length of time. He probably wouldn’t be here for more than a week or two. As soon as he could Deakin would be on his way.
He didn’t like the island. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. It was in the way his eyes shifted from thing to thing, that ever-present frown on his face. Something here held bad vibes for him.
Maybe he’d been injured on the island?
It didn’t matter.
She hadn’t come to the island to speculate on its residents, past or present. She’d come here to escape.
No. Not to escape. To start over.
There was a difference. Starting over involved staying here on this earth, not—
Dammit.
A piercing shriek shattered her thoughts in an instant, and her brain struggled to locate the source.
A smoke alarm, just behind her.
Why...?
Oh, no! Where there’d once been the satisfying crackle of a cooking egg there was now billowing smoke coming from the stovetop.
But that alarm...
God! Her ears!
The racket was huge and dramatic, with flashing strobe lights and a screeching caterwaul that reminded her of a seagull. Or maybe a million of them.
The hot oil wasn’t actually on fire, thank heavens, so she rushed over and grabbed the pan. She was hurrying toward the sink with it just as the front door burst open.
Deakin appeared, stopping in his tracks as his eyes jerked from her face and landed on the pan, which was now safely under the tap.
He came over, putting both hands on the edge of the counter, his breath seesawing in and out. “What happened?”
She could barely make out the words over the alarm.
“I was trying to cook dinner, but...” She had to yell, her vocal cords straining. “Can you turn that thing off?”
He pulled a remote from the front pocket of his chinos and aimed it toward the still blaring siren.
She sucked down a deep breath, her ears ringing in the sudden silence that followed. “Wow. Why didn’t you just turn it off from the house? I think you got an industrial-sized alarm by mistake.”
“No mistake. It’s safer.”
Her head tilted. Safer? Okay...whatever he said.
She gave a rueful gesture toward the skillet. “I’m sorry. I’ll reimburse you, of course, if the pan is ruined.”
“It’s nothing. I thought the whole cottage was on fire.”
It was then that she realized his upper lip was damp with perspiration and the tight lines running down the side of his face weren’t from irritation but from something far worse. Fear.
Of what?
A smoke alarm went off, Lea, that’s what.
He didn’t want to lose his home to her stupidity. But she had never seen an alarm like that. Actually, when she looked closer she also saw ceiling sprinklers, jutting down at regular intervals.
“I guess I’m lucky the sprinklers didn’t go off and give you water damage on top of everything else. I really am sorry.”
He brushed aside her words. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad you’re okay. The sprinklers are set with a delay. If the alarm isn’t shut down in ten minutes they engage, and then the fire department is notified.”
There was a tense element to his voice, that made her take a closer look at the way he was perspiring.
A warning tingle started at the back of her head and traveled up over the top. She shut off the faucet. Maybe that was what those scars were from. A house fire. It would explain a lot. His apathy toward the island. His reluctance to return, according to Theo.
Bad memories?
If it had been the big house or this particular cottage, they had been rebuilt to perfection. They looked like they’d been standing on this rocky crag for the last century. Except for the boathouse. That was different from the main house and the cottage, even though it still blended in. It just seemed newer, somehow. But there was no way she was going to ask.
“I’m fine.” She forced another smile. “Unfortunately my meal didn’t fare quite as well.”
“The smoke detector certainly didn’t approve.” A beep-beep accompanied a few more manipulations of the remote control. “There. I’ve reset it for you.”
Just in case his panicked reaction wasn’t all in her imagination, she decided to put his mind at ease. “Thanks. I’ll stay far away from the stove tonight so I don’t trip it again. Cold cuts it is.”
He paused for a few long seconds before glancing at her, and sure enough his muscles seemed to relax all at once. “My aunt’s moussaka is heating in the oven at the main house. There’s more than enough if you want to share.”
She tried to ignore the way her mouth watered. Moussaka was one of her favorite dishes. “Are you sure? I don’t mind just making a sandwich.”
If he was as uneasy about having her at the cottage as she thought he was, it was up to her to make sure her stay was as discreet as possible. Especially since there wasn’t anywhere else for her to stay. At least not now. Maybe in another week or two something would open up and she could leave Deakin alone in his cottage on the hill.
“I’m sure. I was going to offer earlier, but I wasn’t sure what your plans were.”
“My plans are a bit charred now,” she said, nodding at the sink. “You rent the house out, Theo said? The cottage as well?”
“Yes. Since my parents are both gone it’s the best way I can think of to keep them occupied, so their upkeep is not left completely up to my aunt.”
His tight jaw said that his parents were “gone” as in deceased. She was surprised Theo hadn’t mentioned that.
“I’m sorry about your parents.”
“It’s been a while, but thank you. They died in a car accident on the mainland.”
They died together.
She closed her eyes for a second, trying to suppress a wave of grief. At least one of them hadn’t left the other wondering where they’d gone wrong. Or if they could have done something—anything—differently.
Not a healthy avenue to pursue.
With as much PTSD as she’d treated, you’d think she’d be able to recognize it in herself. The problem was, she did recognize it. There just wasn’t anything she could do about it. Things were the way they were, and no railing against fate was going to change it.
Mark was dead. His life cut short in a single defining moment.
Six months before they were supposed to be married.
“It’s hard losing someone you care about.”
The words came out of their own volition, making her frown. She needed to change the subject before it brought back even more memories. Ones that were better off left behind her.
“So, your aunt is a good cook?”
He pushed away from the counter, his tenseness evaporating. “One of the best on the island. Besides managing this place, she caters special events here on the island.”
“Wow. I think I remember Theo saying something about the caterer being related to you. Is that your aunt?”
“If he called her Cecilia Patera, then, yes. She’s really the only woman on the island who cooks for a living. Her moussaka is out of this world. They even serve some of her meze at Stavros’s taverna. You’ve been there?”
“Only once. The owner was a little gruff.”
Deakin’s head tilted. “Really? That doesn’t sound like Stavros. But I guess everyone can have an off day.”
The man hadn’t been mean, he’d just answered someone a little more curtly than she’d liked and that had been enough for her. She hadn’t been back since.
“I’m sure that’s what it was. Anyway, since I have destroyed my sense of hearing as well as your frying pan, I think I’ll take you up on your offer of moussaka, if it’s really okay. I can just bring a portion home and eat it here, though. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if it was an inconvenience. Or I could make you a quick omelet if you have your heart set on eggs.”
“I actually love moussaka, so no. Eggs just seemed quick and easy.”
The right side of his mouth went up. It was then she realized that she couldn’t see his burns at all. Because that side of his face was angled away from her. But even if that crooked smile was a result of whatever had happened to him, it didn’t make it any less sexy.
“Not so quick and not so easy, from the looks of it.”
“Only because I was distracted,” she protested with a smile.
He glanced toward the television, which was off. “Oh? By what?”
By thoughts of orange juice and...and her mysterious neighbor. But she was not going to say that out loud. He would kick her out if he suspected she was daydreaming about him.
She wasn’t. She was just...thinking about life and the strange ways that paths intersected. And sometimes came to a dead end.
She shifted as a familiar heaviness in her chest made itself known.
There was nothing you could have done, Lea.
The voice inside her head came back with its customary rejoinder: How do you know that for sure?
She couldn’t know. She would never know. And even if she became convinced she’d missed a whole barrage of symptoms—which she hadn’t—it was too late now.
Deakin was still waiting for her response.
She glanced out the window over the sink and caught sight of the gorgeous sunset. “By that.” She motioned toward the sight, mentally crossing her fingers.
He put his elbows on the counter to get low enough to look out the window. “It is beautiful. I have the same view from the kitchen in the main house.”
He might think it was a pretty view, but it didn’t go deeper than an objective observation. How did she know that? There had been no emotion in the statement. No softening of his eyes. No smile the way he had when she’d changed the subject a few minutes ago.
“It’s pretty breathtaking.” She tried again to prod him lightly, not even sure what she was looking for.
“Yes, it is. Are you ready?” He had already turned away from the window, was coming around to the other side of the counter and checking the knobs on the stove.
“I already turned them off.”
“Sometimes they stick.”
No, they didn’t. She’d heard the click as they snapped off.
Rather than be offended by his double-checking, she felt a rush of sympathy go through her. More and more she was convinced that something bad had happened to him very close to home. And those scars were old, so it had been a while ago. Long enough for him to have stopped needing to check knobs on a stove. Or was it...?
Leaving the cottage, he indicated the way down a cobblestone pathway that led to the main house. The harsh heat of the day was giving way to cooler temperatures now that the sun was going down. Even so, she was very glad the cottage was air-conditioned.
“Have you been in the house itself yet?” he asked.
“No, but it’s beautiful from the outside.”
“Yes, my parents did a nice job on it when it was built.”
Her eyes skipped to the white boathouse near the shore. “You’re very lucky to live so close to the water. It’s a shame you aren’t here very often to enjoy it. I would be in that boat every chance I got.”
His steps faltered for a second, before he continued on. “I go out in it every time I’m home.”
“I bet it’s gorgeous out there on the water.”
“I guess it is.” He glanced back at her. “I’ll probably go out at least once while I’m here. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”
“Oh, I wasn’t angling for an invitation. I’m sorry if it came across that way.”
“It didn’t.”
Lea wasn’t sure how she felt about going out on the water with him. There was something about him that made her uneasy.
She decided to sidestep the subject without making it too obvious. “Did you grow up in this house?”