Page 53 of Greek Doctor Cinderella Bride

‘Oh, God, yes,’ Theresa added rocking an inconsolable Sam in her arms. ‘I don’t know how it happened, but just—thank you…thank you for your seeing him, for finding him. I don’t want to think about what could have happened—’ She broke into a flurry of tears again.

‘It’s okay, love,’ Mike said gruffly, hugging her tighter. ‘Let’s not drive ourselves crazy with what-ifs.’

Alex nodded. ‘I’m just pleased we could be of assistance.’

They all sat in a dripping huddle for the next few minutes, watching anxiously as Sam’s cries slowly subsided. Alex suggested they get him fully medically checked out when they landed on Temora, and Mike and Theresa were more than glad to follow his advice.

Sam sniffled and pointed to a seagull wheeling in the sky overhead. ‘Birdie,’ he said. The adults looked at him, stunned, and then roared with laughter at his intact innocence. Sam said ‘birdie’ again for good measure, obviously pleased by their cheery response.

‘I don’t think there’s any lasting damage with him.’ Alex smiled, ruffling Sam’s wet locks as the little boy yawned.

‘He’s no doubt exhausted,’ Isobella murmured. Nothing like an interrupted nap and a hypoxic incident to induce fatigue.

Theresa stood, aided by Mike, and Isobella and Alex followed suit. ‘I think I’ll put him down for a nap and stay with him,’ she said, rubbing her nose against his.

Mike watched them go. ‘Do you mind if I join them for a while? I promise I’ll have you on Temora in plenty of time for your flight.’

‘Of course not,’ Alex said. ‘Go, man. Go be with your little Houdini.’

Mike grinned at them and they watched him go. Alex turned back to Isobella, remembering the moment he’d seen her dive over the side, not knowing why, his heart in his mouth. ‘That was an incredibly brave thing to do. It can’t have been easy for someone with a water phobia.’

Isobella shrugged, her heart beating madly, her hands trembling as full realisation hit her. ‘I guess I didn’t have time to stop and think about it too much.’

She looked dazed and his brow creased. ‘Are you okay?’

She nodded briskly. ‘Well, maybe a little wet, but…’

Alex laughed, his gaze drawn to her dripping hair and then down further to her now very see-through shirt. He could see she was wearing the cream bra with the butterfly at her cleavage he’d spied that first day on Piccolo. He knew he shouldn’t, but his gaze moved further south, anticipating a peek at the matching knickers.

But his gaze didn’t get quite that far. The shirt was plastered to her abdomen, and he blinked at what he saw there. A mass of purple whip-like marks blemishing her flat stomach. Very like aFleckeri scar. Very,very like.

He stared as his heart pounded in his chest. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

Alex’s gravelly voice sounded almost steely, and his cerulean eyes were flecked with chips of ice. Isobella shivered. She looked down, shocked to discover her thin white cotton shirt was completely transparent—she might as well have been wearing nothing. She crossed her arms across her abdomen. ‘Alex—’

He batted her arms away, his hands holding them locked by her sides. Blood roared in his head. ‘Show me.’

The husky demand brooked no argument. Their gazes clashed as her arms railed against the restraints of his. ‘Alex.’

‘Show me.’

He was looking at her intently, and her breath suddenly became ragged. Quite unexpectedly the moment had turned into something else entirely. She was very aware of him as a man, with all that brooding intensity focused solely on her. His hands grazing her waist were sending hot needles of desire up to her breasts and down to her thighs. She felt small and vulnerable, defenceless in his grasp. He was angry, and it shouldn’t be turning her on, but she found herself strangely aroused.

The sea lapped the sides of the anchored boat, loud in a tense silence as vast as the ocean around them. It bobbed gently, their bodies rising and falling with the sway.

‘Please, Alex.’ Her voice stuttered into the electric space between them.

Alex couldn’t bear the raw appeal in her voice. Nausea surged through his system at the mere thought that her body might have fallen victim to the searing brand of a box jellyfish. He’d listened to too many victim horror stories. The thought that she had been through such an ordeal was too awful to contemplate.

Isobella saw the flexing movement at the angle of his jaw. Felt the barely leashed power in the tightening of the bands around her wrists. Without any warning he grabbed the two edges of her shirt and ripped them apart, buttons scattering to the edges of the deck.

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