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CHAPTER THREE

“WHY DIDN’T YOU tell me you were arriving yesterday, Deak? Cailey and I would have picked you up. Did you fly in or take the ferry?”

Theo stood in the doorway to the exam room his patient had just exited, his frowning countenance not fooling anyone. His friend was glad to see him.

“I flew. It was a pretty bumpy landing. I guess they’ll resurface the runway eventually. My aunt said it got damaged pretty badly.”

“It was cracked in half. They did what they could to get it up and running again.” He grinned. “I’m glad you could finally join the party.”

Setting his laptop on the counter top, he walked over and gave Theo a quick brotherly slap on the back. “From what I’ve heard you’re doing quite a bit of partying. I didn’t want to disturb your love-nest.”

Theo was one of the few people he’d never felt judged by. As kids he, Chris and Eri had never ogled his scars, but they hadn’t tiptoed around them either. They’d accepted them, just like they’d accepted him—something his parents had never seemed able to do after the fire.

He’d never told them the whole truth. It wouldn’t have helped the situation and it would have just made life harder for Ville, whose home life had been a million times worse than his. At least Deakin’s parents hadn’t hit him. They’d just frozen him out emotionally instead.

“Love-nest? Really?” He paused. “Cailey’s pregnant. I wasn’t sure if you’d heard.”

Deakin’s brows went up and he slapped his friend’s back again. Hard enough to make Theo grunt this time. “No, you conveniently omitted that fact during our first phone conversation.”

“Well, since it happened sometime after that call...” He chuckled. “Oh, you’ve met Lea Risi, haven’t you?”

Deakin picked up his laptop, setting it on the table near the door. “She’s living almost under my roof, so it’s kind of hard to miss her. Another thing you cleverly omitted to mention.”

“We can move her somewhere else if having her there bothers you. Cecilia kind of insisted when the hotel was evacuated. I could always check with Cailey and move her into our house.”

“No. I’ll survive. It’s not like I’ll be here for a year or anything.”

“You never know.”

His chest tightened. “Oh, I know.”

Better change the subject before they got into it. He and Theo had already gone round and round enough times on this particular subject.

“So, what about this whole fundraising bachelor auction thing Cecelia has told me about? I don’t have to do anything for it, right?”

“Well, since I’m out of the running, being an expectant father and all...”

Deakin made a sound that was half-grunt, half-laugh. “You must have wanted out of that auction really bad.”

“Um...no. That’s not quite how things worked. I never expected to meet someone and... Well, anyway, now that you’re here you can take my place in the auction. The earthquake decimated our funds. And our CT scanner is on the fritz. It has to be repaired or replaced.”

“Not interested. I already did that freak show of a calendar. Besides, I wouldn’t bring in enough for a photocopier, much less a CT machine.”

The thought of standing on some stage having people bid—or not bid—on his “worth” gave him the heebie-jeebies. Or, worse, having some little old lady place a pity bid on him that had him scrubbing her kitchen sink or something.

“I’d also appreciate it if you’d ask Petra to take down that calendar hanging in the reception area. At least for the month of July.”

“Ha! That would be a negative, since that calendar has already brought in several thousand euros. If you want it down, you ask her.”

And risk getting on Petra’s wrong side? Although it might be worth it this time. Deakin’s picture on the calendar was for the month of July, which was just over a week away. He didn’t want anyone seeing that snapshot, especially not Lea.

He wasn’t sure why that thought bothered him more than having other people see it. Maybe because he’d grown up on this island and they all knew him—knew his history. She didn’t, and he didn’t want her asking anyone about the incident which had seared a roadmap of scars into the left side of his chest.

There were areas of it that had never regained sensation, the nerves permanently damaged. He would never again feel the scrape of a woman’s fingertips on those parts of his body. His throat tightened. Not that he routinely invited women into his bedroom, for the very same reason that he didn’t want that calendar out there for the world to see.

Lea would probably think he’d been on some kind of ego trip during that whole photo shoot. That was the furthest thing from the truth. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but their trust fund money from Mopaxeni Shipping had been running short for the year. So they had concocted the stupid scheme to get some local guys on a calendar, figuring some of the islanders might be keen to help fund the clinic.

One of the subjects had had a gall stone attack the day of the photo shoot, so Deakin had been an emergency substitute to save the day—such as it was. He hadn’t even looked at the actual shot when it had been sent over—had just checked the “accept” box and sent the envelope back to the photographer.

The thought of Lea seeing how far down his scars went made him queasy. He’d caught her studying his neck when she thought he wasn’t looking. Several times, in fact. He’d even almost balked about getting his hair cut this morning, because the longer it was, the more it covered. But that would have been admitting that Lea’s curious glances disturbed him on some level. So he’d gone to his aunt and asked her to do the deed. She had, and four inches of shaggy growth had ended up on her kitchen floor.

Tempted By Dr Patera

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