Page 32 of Greek Doctor Cinderella Bride

Just three more days. That’s all.

Why blow the best job she’d ever had in a fit of feminine pique? She squared her shoulders. ‘Yes, sir.’

Alex gave her back a small smile as he followed her brisk strides into the bar. He stopped to order drinks, watching her weave her way through the late-afternoon patrons. He followed her a few minutes later.

He stopped at the entry to the large terracotta terrace that jutted out over the beach, searching for her blonde head. He located her easily, propped against the stainless steel railing, staring out to sea. The sunset blazing low on the horizon gilded her hair, giving the impression of a halo, and he gave a wry smile.

The tangerine blush of the sky grew larger as he approached, like a giant canvas. The colours of the setting sun bled from a pale blush to pomegranate to crimson. The steady rhythm of the nearby waves calmly lapped at the all-but-deserted beach.

And despite the glorious sunset, and the array of beautiful people there to witness it, and her dreadful sense of style, she was still the most interesting thing on the balcony.

‘Hard to believe that cyclone’s still hanging around,’ he said, nudging her arm with a frosty cocktail glass.

Isobella shivered as his voice brushed the skin near her ear. ‘I heard it was heading back to sea,’ she said, clutching the rail for a moment before turning side on and taking the proffered umbrellaed glass. ‘What is it?’ she asked dubiously.

‘Sex on the Beach.’ He smiled.

Isobella took a second to steady herself, gripping the glass. ‘I’m celibate these days, Dr Zaphirides,’ she said dropping it on a nearby table and not caring that it probably cost him an arm and a leg.

Alex chuckled. ‘That’s a shame. Celibacy is not good for you.’

‘Spoken like a true man,’ she said derisively.

Alex chuckled again, but turned to face the water taking a swig of his long-necked beer. She watched his profile, fascinated by the way the light sea breeze ruffled his luxurious locks, brushing them against his forehead.

‘What do you want, Alex?’

Alex took a moment to absorb the peace and the quiet resilience of the ocean before he turned to the harnessed civility of her face. ‘You were great today.’

Isobella gave him a dubious look. ‘I prefer my microscope.’

‘I don’t think you do.’

The accuracy of his husky observation rankled. Particularly as he was right. The patient contact today had been challenging, and she’d kept herself as distant as possible, but she’d been surprised to find herself being drawn into it again. She looked away from the piercing insight of his gaze, watching the to and fro of the ocean.

‘Why are you locking yourself way in the lab? You built fabulous rapports with Phoebe and our clients. You were great with Danielle. You were just what that poor frightened girl needed. You were a nurse today.’

Isobella shrugged. What did it matter? She wasn’t a nurse any more. ‘Old habits die hard.’

‘You’d make a great field officer.’

She turned to face him again, his open-neck shirt reminding her that despite his flattery they were too different. ‘I don’t want to be a field officer.’

‘You gave up because you got too close to your patients, didn’t you? It was nothing to do with wanting a change. I saw how you were with Danielle. Your empathy was palpable. Did it get too much? Did you have a breakdown?’ It would explain her jumpiness this morning in the ICU.

Isobella didn’t answer. Not even to tell him he was way off base. Let him think what he liked. It was none of his damn business.

‘Don’t you miss it?’

Isobella sighed. ‘Do you miss surgery?’

Alex shook his head. ‘Before the cancer I was set on the glamour of surgery. Plastics. Burns, particularly. To me there was no other kind of medicine, no other kind of doctor. Why become a doctor if you couldn’t be a surgeon?’

He looked at her for confirmation and she nodded, not wanting to break his dialogue, mesmerised by his animated face, the gravel in his voice and the poetry of the ocean.

‘Then I was forced to take time away. Get on the other side of the bed for a change. The unglamorous side. And all around me was this whole other medical world that existed outside of the operating theatre. It didn’t take me too long to realise that if you took my scalpel away I was still a doctor. I could still help people.’

Isobella nodded. She understood. It was what she was trying to do after all. Help people. People who depended on what she was doing. People like her. It was just that she preferred the anonymity of the white coat.

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