Her Greek Doctor's Proposal (7 page)

Sophisticated but rugged sounded pretty good.
As if she might find him attractive, and he certainly found her very attractive. “I’m more of a Greek goat boy than a cowboy, since it was my job to look after ours when I was a kid.”

“Goat boy?” She laughed. “Sorry. Doesn’t work at all for you.”

“You might change your mind if I show up smelling like one of Cassie’s goats sometime. She and Petros like to pretend they’re horses and bring them into the ‘stable.’ Which is her name for our living room.”

“Oh, my gosh, that’s adorable.”

“Not when your house smells like a barn.”

Her laugh, the sparkle in her eyes, were sheer temptation. The kind of temptation that left Andros wondering if he could possibly resist. If he could keep his hands and lips to himself when all he wanted at that moment was to pull her close and kiss that smiling mouth.

He drew in a deep breath, glad they’d arrived at one of his favorite restaurants, interrupting his dangerous thoughts. “Would you like to sit at a table, or have
mezedes
on these seats looking out over the water?”

“Mezedes?”

“You’ve been in Greece two months and don’t know what
mezedes
are?” He teased her with mock astonishment. “Appetizer-sized plates for dinner, instead of one entrée. Eating various
meze
over a whole evening, preferably with ouzo to drink, is a Greek tradition.”

“Ouzo? You’re kidding. That stuff is awful!” He had to grin at the cute way she scrunched up her face. “Mel and Tom had us all try it at dinner in Delphi one night and I could barely swallow it.”

“Don’t worry. Ouzo’s optional.”

“Good, because the
meze
sounds wonderful. I like trying different things. And I want to enjoy seeing the water while I still can.”

A reminder that she wouldn’t be here for long. But when it came right down to it, what did it matter? He wasn’t capable of futures or happy-ever-afters with a woman anyway. And they were far enough away that he didn’t have to worry about the gossip Kastorini townsfolk used to love to share about him, back in the careless days of his youth. Which had extended into too many careless days with women in his adulthood, too.

They sat side by side in the cushioned wicker seat, and it took effort to concentrate on the menu instead of how close she was, how good she smelled, how pretty she looked. “So, no ouzo,” he said. “What do you like to drink?”

“White wine, but don’t let me stop you from drinking ouzo.”

No way he’d be drinking ouzo. If he kissed her, he wasn’t about to taste like the licorice liquor
she hated. Then reminded himself that kissing wouldn’t be a good idea. “Have you ever tried retsina?”

“No. That’s a Greek wine, isn’t it?”

“Another thing that can be an acquired taste. Some people think it tastes like turpentine, or pinesap, but by the third glass, you’d like it.”

“Third glass? Are you trying to get me drunk to take advantage of me?” He hadn’t seen this mischievousness in her eyes before, and his heart beat a little faster as he thought of ways they could take advantage of one another and how much fun that would be. “How about I stick with sauvignon blanc?”

“I’m a gentleman, remember?” A gentleman who wanted to kiss her, wanted to know whether this attraction, this awareness, went both ways. Except he shouldn’t want to know, because if she felt any of what he was feeling he’d find it even harder to keep their relationship strictly friendly and uncomplicated. “We’ll get both, since you like to try new things.”

“Far be it from me to not try a drink that tastes like pinesap.”

Even as he grinned he wondered how her mouth would taste no matter what she’d been drinking, and yanked his gaze from her lips, handing her the menu. “What sounds good?”

She handed it back. “You’ve heard the phrase,
‘it’s all Greek to me’? Unfortunately, studying ancient languages doesn’t help me read one word of that.”

“Sorry. How about I order a few of my favorites, then we’ll go from there? Grilled octopus,
keftedes
, which are fried meatballs I personally could eat a dozen of, peppers stuffed with feta, and olives from the valleys by Kastorini to start.”

“Sounds wonderful, except maybe the octopus. Can’t wrap my brain around eating those little suction cups.”

She gave an exaggerated shudder that was almost as cute as her ouzo expression. “Maybe you haven’t had them cooked properly. And I’m beginning to learn you’re a little overdramatic at times, perhaps.”

“Perhaps.” Her lips curved. “I love that the olives are from that sea of trees. It’s incredible how many there are.”

“Over a million. And many are over a hundred years old.”

“A hundred? That’s a nanosecond in Greece.”

“Says the archaeologist, not arborist.”

They smiled at one another until the waiter showed up to take their order, then brought the wine. Andros let himself enjoy looking at her over his glass. Wished he could see her with that long, thick, silky hair of hers out of its restraint and spilling down her back. He nearly reached
to grasp the ponytail in his palm, wanting to stroke the length of its softness with his hand, but stopped himself.

“Tell me about being mom to your sisters. How many do you have?” he asked, as much to keep from thinking about touching her as genuinely wanting to know more about her. Then instantly regretted the question, surprised to see the beautiful eyes that had been relaxed and smiling become instantly shadowed.

“Three younger. One just graduated college, one’s a sophomore, and the youngest, Helen, is on a summer internship in Peru before she starts as a freshman in a few more weeks.” She stayed quiet for a moment, and Andros was trying to figure out if he should start a different subject when she finally spoke. “My parents were the archaeologists who started this dig and were killed that first summer. That’s how I came to take over the mom role. Did a pretty bad job of it half the time, but I tried.”

“I’m so sorry. What happened?” His heart kicked at what a shocking loss that had to be. He put down his glass and rested his hand between her shoulder blades. “You must have barely been, what, twenty-two?”

She nodded. “I’d graduated college that May, and just a couple weeks later they came here to start working the dig. I was home watching my
sisters. My parents were excavating a new pit and were inside it deciding how much deeper they could use machinery, when an earthquake hit. The rock walls collapsed on them.”

“Dear God. I remember that earthquake’s epicenter was right here on Mount Parnassus, and that some of the buildings in Delphi and Kastorini were pretty badly damaged. I can’t believe your parents…” He trailed off, unable to imagine it. The shock of such a freak thing taking both of her parents at once.

“I know. It was…unbelievable. Devastating for us girls.”

“That small earthquake a couple weeks ago must have scared the hell out of you. Brought it all back.” She nodded, and Andros’s chest squeezed at the pain on her face. “So you took over for your parents, taking care of your sisters.”

“The court allowed me to become guardian. I’d watched them every summer anyway, when our parents were gone on digs. We managed. Survived. I’d planned to start grad school, but had to put it off for a few years. I hate that I’m so behind what my parents groomed me to accomplish by now. Far behind all that they’d accomplished by my age, but there wasn’t another good option. It’s…I knew it was what they would have expected, even though they would’ve been disappointed that school had to come second.” The
tears came then, squeezing his chest even tighter, and she quickly dabbed them before they could fall. “Sorry. Stupid to cry after all this time.”

He couldn’t figure out how much of her tears were from grief over her parents, or the pain of believing, somehow, that they would be disappointed with her. Surely she didn’t really feel that way, considering how she’d stepped up and put her sisters first. At twenty-two, he’d been damned self-absorbed, for sure.

He took her chin in his fingers, turned her face so she was looking at him. “Never be sorry for being human and feeling pain, Laurel. Grief stays with us, sometimes for a long time. Until we learn what we have to from it to move on.”

The way she forced a smile through her tears gripped his heart, and without thinking he lowered his head an inch and touched his lips to hers. Softly, gently, meaning to soothe. They were soft and pliant beneath his, and for a long moment the kiss was painfully, wonderfully, deliciously sweet.

They slowly pulled apart, separating just a few inches, staring at one another. Heat and desire rushed through his veins like a freight train just from his lips on hers. A heat and desire that had him wanting to go back for more, deeper and hotter. He fiercely reminded himself she was hurting, that he was supposed to be offering comfort.
Not consumed with the need to lay her down on the cushioned seat and kiss her breathless.

Her eyes were wide, and inside that deep blue he thought he saw a flicker of what might be the same awareness, the same desire. Just as he began to ease away from her, she surprised the hell out of him, wrapping her palm behind his head, closing the gap between them and kissing him back. He found himself grasping her ponytail as he’d wanted to earlier, gently tugging her hair to tip her face to the perfect angle, letting him delve deeper. Her lips parted, drew him in as he learned the dizzying taste of Laurel Evans.

“Ahem. Your peppers and
keftedes
.”

They both slowly broke apart, and Andros struggled to remember they were in a public restaurant before he turned to the waiter. “Thanks.”

The waiter responded with a grin and a little wink at Andros before he moved on to another seat farther down the promenade. He looked at Laurel, not surprised to see her cheeks were a deep pink. Hell, he had a feeling his might be too, and didn’t know what to say. Maybe something along the lines of,
Sorry, I didn’t mean to try to suck your tongue like you were the
first
meze,
but you taste so good I couldn’t help myself.

He cleared his throat. “I—”

“You were wrong, you know,” she interrupted in a soft voice.

“Wrong?”

“That I’d need three glasses of retsina before I’d think it tasted good. Just one taste from your mouth, and I know it’s very, very delicious.”

That surprised a short laugh out of him. “And I’ve come to have a new appreciation for the very appetizing flavor of sauvignon blanc.” Her words, her smile, the heat in her eyes that reflected his own, nearly sent him back for another taste of her, but he somehow managed to keep his mouth to himself. He slid the plates of food closer to her. “Try the
keftedes
alone, and then with the
tziaziki
. Which, by the way, we either both have to eat, or neither of us.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to smell like garlic if you don’t. But if we both do? Nothing like a garlicky
tziaziki
kiss, I promise.” And why had he brought up the subject of kissing when he was trying to behave?

He was glad to see every trace of sadness was gone, replaced by a slightly wicked smile that sent his blood pumping all over again. “Don’t think it could beat the last one, but I’m more than willing to give it a try.”

“I doubt it could beat the last one either. Guess we’ll have to find out.”

The memory of that kiss had the air practically humming as they looked at one another, and
Andros knew he had to bring the conversation back to something less exciting to ratchet down his libido. Either that, or leave and steam up the windows of his car.

And that idea was so appealing, he nearly threw money on the table and grabbed her hand to get going on it.

“So,” he said, stuffing half a meatball into his mouth to drown out the flavor of Laurel, “I assume you’re going to shut down the cave dig for the moment.”

“Shut it down?”

“Yes. With John sick now too, it’s logical until we get some test results back.”

“We only have a few weeks left of the dig as it is. And no one has any idea if they’re sick because of something in the caves or not. For all we know it could be something a tourist brought to the hotel. Or even coincidence and not the same illness.”

He was surprised as hell at her attitude and the suddenly mulish expression on her face, especially considering she’d seen how sick the three were and had seemed as worried as he was. “True. But it makes sense to wait until we get the test results. How could a few days matter?”

“Every hour matters. There’ll be no more funding for this project. Which means whatever
we have left to unearth has to be discovered soon, or it’ll stay buried.”

“Things will stay buried anyway. Unless a dig lasts indefinitely, I’d think you could never be sure what might still be there.”

“True. And we have used satellite imaging and ground-penetrating radar and magnetometry to help us find what’s still there. But those things are less reliable when it comes to the caves.”

“So you’re willing to risk someone else getting sick to give yourself a few extra days’ digging.” He couldn’t help but feel frustrated, even angry about that, especially when an image of Laurel lying in a hospital bed, sick and nearly unable to breathe, disturbingly injected itself into his mind.

“I need to finish this dig for my parents.” She frowned at him for a long moment before she finally spoke again. “But I’ll compromise. I’ll offer the team a choice about working on the mountain, and we’ll stay out of the caves until the test results are back. Unless you can prove to me the pneumonia is definitely related to the dig, though, I’m not shutting it down.”

“I
CAN
’
T BELIEVE
Kristin stayed at the hotel when we’re already down three people.” Becka sat back on her haunches and pushed her hair under her hat as she looked over at Laurel.

“It’s fine, Becka.” Laurel pulled a bag and pen from her apron to label the potsherd she’d dug up. “The reason I shared Dr. Drakoulias’s concerns with the team was to give everyone the option to sit it out until the test results are back, if that’s what they’re most comfortable doing.”