One Night With Dr Nikolaides
Was there nothing the man hadn’t thought of? All this while also seeing patients? Where was the young man she’d last seen? Arrogant. Elitist. The one who’d turned against her as easily as kicking a door shut. The one who’d compelled her to scrimp and save and study and learn. To leave her homeland pushed by the towering wave of shame that she would never be good enough for a man like him.
She couldn’t have been wrong about him after all of this time. Could she?
Theo reached back and gave her shoulder a little pat and a squeeze as another doctor took the nurse’s spot and asked him to run his eye across some X-rays. A compound fracture. Were they up to performing the surgery the patient would require?
Vividly aware of Theo’s fingers on her shoulder, Cailey was barely capable of lucid thought. Her insides were behaving like electricity cables cut loose in a storm. Sparks flying everywhere. Nothing behaving the way it should.
She squeezed her eyes tight against the warm olive color of Theo’s skin. His toned physique. The perfect, capable hands touching her.
Just imagining the man holding a child, helping a yiayia to cross the street with her shopping or explaining to a daredevil teen that he couldn’t go swimming while his arm was still in a plaster made her insides turn into liquid gold.
Which was all very irritating because she was meant to have become immune to Theo Nikolaides.
She forced herself to open her eyes and meet the mossy hues of his irises whilst trying her level best to ignore the fact that the man was in possession of the longest, darkest lashes she’d ever seen. He also had more than a five o’clock shadow, but that indicated he’d been working hard and—surprise, surprise—made him look more like a rock star than an unkempt layabout.
No doubt about it. As a grown man Theo Nikolaides was a living, breathing example of a mortal embodying the majesty of the Greek gods of legend. Zeus, Adonis, Apollo... Eros...
“Shall we get you out of these things?”
Theo was looking pointedly at her filthy top, but her thoughts and his tone suggested anything but an innocent need to improve her hygiene.
Was he...flirting with her?
This was taking being cool in the eye of a storm to a whole new level.
Just one lazy scan of her dust-covered body and—poof!—just like that she felt naked. Each sweep of his eyes drew her awareness to the cotton brushing against her belly, her breasts, the tingling between her legs that was really, really inappropriate seeing as she’d vowed to remain immune to the Nikolaides effect. Not to mention the scores of patients waiting.
Seeing him looking at her the way he was...hungrily...she felt a brand-new array of fireworks light up her insides and actual electricity crackle between them.
This was all wrong. There was a crisis happening not inches away. People needed help. Patients needed his attention. Her attention.
He’d never looked at her like this before. As if she were an oasis and he’d crawled in from the desert desperate for one thing and one thing only.
The sun abruptly lit up the clinic’s central glass dome, its rays filtering down to them through a tumble of rooftop wisteria like film lighting. Dappled. Hints of gold and diamonds.
When Theo tilted his face, green eyes still locked with hers, it was all she could do not to reach into her chest and give him her heart. It had always been his. He’d just never wanted it.
Before she could say anything, though, he held out his arm to clear a path for her toward the rear of the clinic.
Of course the crowd parted. Things like that happened for the Theo Nikolaideses of the world. And the Patera and the Xenakis families. Not to mention the Moustakas family. The four families who commanded the bulk of the island’s wealth thanks to their business savvy.
Mopaxeni Shipping. The glittering star of the Aegean Seas and beyond. All those businessmen’s sons would inherit untold millions—if not billions. So what on earth was Theo doing here in this small town clinic when the world was his oyster?
“Aren’t 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.”
CHAPTER FIVE
CAILEY STARED AT the empty space Theo had just occupied.
What on earth...?
Bossy so-and-so.
Hadn’t changed a bit. Still lording it about as if he knew everything which—well, in this case he probably did.
You’re working with me. And that’s an order.
Typical Nikolaides privilege. Just because she was a nurse, and had failed to get into med school, and had taken twice as long as anyone else to get her nursing degree—
Stop! She didn’t need to keep raking it all up again. The all too familiar pounding of her heart suddenly leapt into her head, drowning out everything else as she forced herself to take in a deep, steady inhalation and then breathe out again.
You’re a nurse, she told herself. There are patients. This isn’t about you. Or Mr. Bossypants.
She was scared, that was all. The trauma ward wasn’t her optimum work zone. But she’d done it before—admittedly getting one teensy-tiny panic attack on her score card. Never mind. She could do it again—minus the panic attack part. There was no way she was leaving this island with her tail between her legs a second time.
A quick wash and she’d get her priorities back in order. She’d returned to Mythelios to help, not to swish around Theo Nikolaides praying he’d notice her. That ship had long since sailed.
* * *
When Cailey entered the trauma area it was sheer madness. The number of people had doubled. The volume was higher. The urgency of tone was even more shrill.
A shot of fear jettisoned through her bloodstream and exploded in her heart. This was a far cry from the calm, hushed corridors of the maternity ward she’d left behind in England. There the serene environment helped her stay calm—particularly when she struggled with writing up notes and tackling new medicines and...well...any new words. They all took extra time. Her brain processed things differently.
For the most part she’d beaten her dyslexia into a new, workable form of submission. But this?
This was bedlam. She was going to have to shore up every ounce of courage and nursing know-how she had to avoid falling to bits. It had happened before and she never wanted to go back there again. Especially not in front of—
“All right? Ready to go?”
Theo.
Theo was putting his arm round her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. Everything faded for an instant as she just...mmm...inhaled the scent she hadn’t realized was all but stitched into her memory banks.
Could he sense her fear? Had he seen the blood drain from her face when she walked into the trauma unit? Spotted the tremor in her hands before she wove them together to stop their shaking?
He squared himself off in front of her, one large, lovely hand on each shoulder. “Just remember: I’m a humble country doctor and you’re a big city nurse. You can do this, koukla mou. Okay?”
Surprisingly, the term of endearment wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She looked up into his rich green eyes and drew strength from them, felt her breath steadying as he continued.
“I know it seems crazy in here. It is. But this situation is new to all of us and we will each do the best we can. One patient at a time is how we’re going to deal with it. All right? One patient at a time.”
When their eyes caught she felt her heart smash against her ribcage. The man was looking straight into her soul, seeing her darkest fears and assuring her he would be there to help no matter what. She stared at his chest, half tempted to reach out and touch it, to see if his heart was doing the same.
When their gazes connected again he was all business. He steered her over to a gurney that was being locked into place by a couple of rescue workers.
“Right! Cailey, this is Artemis Pepolo. I’ve known this feisty teen since she was born.”
The dark-haired girl nodded a fraction, the rest of her body contracted tightly in pain.
“Artemis has just been rescued after a pretty uncomfortable night under a beam—but you hung in there, didn’t you, my love?”
Artemis’s breathing was coming in sharp, staccato bursts and her lips were rapidly draining of color. She tried to smile for Theo but cried out in pain. Her arm lay at an odd angle and one touch to the side of her throat revealed a rapid heart-rate.
“Pneumothorax?” Cailey asked in a low voice.
Theo gave an affirmative nod, his gloved hands running along the girl’s ribcage as he spoke. “Good. Yes. Traumatic pneumothorax, in this case. The beams of her house shifted when they were getting her out and broke a couple of ribs. No time to get her X-rayed before we relieve the tension. Can you snap on a pair of gloves, get some oxygen into her and clean her up for a quick chest tube?”
Cailey clenched her eyes tight, forcing herself to picture the chart she’d made for herself on how to go through the procedure. Images always worked better for her than words. Miraculously it came to her in a flood of recognition.
And then, as one, they flew through the treatment as if they’d worked together for years.
After snapping on a pair of gloves from a nearby box, Cailey swiftly pulled an oxygen mask round the girl’s head and placed it over her mouth, ensuring the tube was releasing a steady flow. She then took a pair of scissors from a supplies trolley, cut open the girl’s top, applied monitors, checked her stats and covered her with a protective sheet, leaving a mid-sized square of her ribcage just below her heart exposed. She swabbed it with a hygiene solution as Theo explained the protocol he was going to follow.
“I’m using point-five percent numbing agent to numb the second intercostal space and then a shot of adrenaline-epinephrine before we insert a pigtail catheter, yes?”
“Not a chest tube?” she asked.
The doctor she’d worked under during her stint in the London trauma unit had been old school. Very old school. She wouldn’t say it had been entirely his fault she’d had her...blip...but he most certainly hadn’t helped.
Theo put the tube over a tiny metal rod. “Most hospitals are using the pigtail catheter now. Far less painful for the patient.”
She looked for the sneer, listened for the patronizing tone, and heard neither. Just a doctor explaining the steps he was going to take. But better. A doctor saying his patient’s comfort was of paramount importance to him.
And then it was back to business. Cailey gave the region around the fourth and fifth intercostal space of the girl’s ribcage a final swipe of cleansing solution and then stood back as Theo expertly inserted the needle into the pleural space, his fingertip holding just above the gauge for a second. Their eyes connected as he smiled.
“Ha. Got it. I can feel the air releasing.” He turned to his patient and gave her a gentle smile. “Hang in there, love. We’re almost there.” He attached a syringe to the needle. “I’ll just do a quick aspiration to make sure we get all that extra trapped air out.”
Once he was satisfied, he expertly went about inserting the thin wire and tube as if he had done it a thousand times. Within seconds the tube was in, the wire was pulled out and Cailey had attached the tube to a chest drainage system.
“Right, Artie. We’ll just leave you here to rest up for a bit and then see about moving you somewhere a bit more peaceful where we can check out that arm, all right?”
He pulled off his gloves, smiled at Cailey and tipped his head toward the main trauma area. “Ready for the next one?”
She was impressed. For a man who professed to be a humble country doctor, he knew his stuff.
“Did you study trauma medicine?” She couldn’t help but ask the question after pulling the curtains round Artemis and watching Theo give notes to the nurse who, he’d explained, was in charge of moving patients out of the trauma area.
He nodded. “I thought if I was going to be running this place on my own sometimes I’d better be prepared.”
“You’re here alone ?”
“Well, not alone, alone. There are interns who come in from Athens to have a spell, but they usually get bored with island life eventually and want to get back to the mainland. And the lads come back on and off at certain times of the year in a sort of unofficial rotation; they’re just not here at the moment.”
She nodded. He must mean Chris, Deakin and Ares—the other Mopaxeni malakas he’d set up the clinic with. She wasn’t so sure malakas was the right word for them anymore. Miracle workers, more like. This place was a far cry from the crumbling old clinic she’d gone to as a girl. And Theo was completely different from the elitist snob she’d been expecting.
“Right.” He rubbed his hands together as if preparing for a fantastic adventure. “How are you with broken bones?”
* * *
Broken bones. Fractures. Lacerations. Internal bruising. Heart palpations. A massive blood clot... The list went on.
And no matter what he threw at her Cailey stayed bright, attentive and, much to his surprise, willing to learn. There were holes in her knowledge—as to be expected for someone whose specialty wasn’t trauma—but she seemed capable of everything short of reading his mind, and even that was sometimes questionable.
Whatever he needed—a particular gauge of needle, a certain type of suture thread, the correct scalpel—she already had it ready before he could ask for it.
As he opened the curtain for their next patient he stopped. Ah. Marina Serkos. They’d gone to school together until his father had deemed the local primary unfit for purpose and shipped him off to boarding school.
“Looks like someone’s due soon.”
This was his one bugbear. The baby checks. He knew he should be happy for others. Share in the joy of a new innocent life being brought into the world. But all he could think each time he saw a pregnant patient was, Good luck. You’ll need it.
Not exactly a ringing endorsement for “happy families”. But happy families hadn’t been the remit in the Nikolaides household. Appearances were everything. No one outside the family knew he wasn’t his father’s success story. Nor did they know he was adopted. And no one—not even his sister—would ever know his silent vow never to bring a child into this world.
Pawns. That was what he and his sister had been. Pawns in a game that hadn’t seemed to have any rules.
“Theo?” Cailey had helped Marina up onto the exam table and was wheeling a sonogram machine into place. “Do you want to do the exam?”
Both women were looking at him a bit oddly. If they’d been exchanging information he hadn’t a clue.
He scrubbed his hands over his face and forced a smile. “Apologies, Marina. It’s been a long day.”
“Marina’s worried about her baby,” Cailey explained in a confident voice.
Ah! Of course. This was her terrain. He nodded for her to continue. It was a relief not to have to ooh and ah each time a fist curled, or a hiccough came halfway through an exam. In his darker moments he sometimes wondered if the only thing his fellow islanders could think to do during the slow winter months was procreate.
“She’s not experienced any blunt trauma, thank goodness, but when the quake struck she was taking a much-needed nap, I presume...”
Both women smiled at Marina’s large bump. She was probably near full term by now.
“Are you at seven months, Marina?”
“Eight,” she answered, her brow creasing with worry. “The baby used to kick all the time, but when the bed collapsed, I just—Ooooh...” She blew out a steadying breath as tears popped into her eyes. “I haven’t really felt the little one move since.”
“Well, then.” Cailey pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. “I guess we’d better take a look at the little one.”
Her tone was bright, efficient, and exactly what a worried mum needed to hear at a time like this.
She held out the scanning wand to Theo. “No, no, you go ahead. This is your terrain,” he said.
“You’re a maternity doctor?” Marina asked, her eyes brightening.
A flash of something crossed Cailey’s eyes before she answered. Frustration? Sadness? But when she turned back to Marina it was as if he’d imagined it.
“No, no. I’m a nurse working on a neonatal ward in a London hospital.”
“No chance you want to stay here, I suppose?” Marina asked, then threw an apologetic glance at Theo. “Apologies, Dr. Nikolaides, but sometimes it’s nice to have a woman to speak with about...you know...”
He nodded. He knew. But they were a small, charitable clinic running on a limited budget on an island few doctors wished to call home all year round. He’d tried to get female obstetricians to come in at least once a month, but with weather, budget constraints, people’s busy schedules—things didn’t always pan out.
He didn’t blame them, those doctors who refused his invitations to take a massive pay-cut and cope with small-town life complete with an unlimited supply of Mythelios Olive Oil.
Big-city hospitals, well-funded research clinics...those were the places that drew talent. Look at Cailey—she’d gone to London and stayed there. And his best friends had left. Add to that an earthquake, and... Oh, well. No need to go down that rabbit hole again.
Obstinacy—or something like it—was the only reason he stayed. Whether it was a relentless showdown or a twisted truce he and his father were engaged in...
He shook his head and forced himself to tune in to Cailey’s exam. There were no answers when it came to his father. But there were in medicine. Which was why he all but lived in the clinic. Long shifts were a damn sight better than “family time.”