Free Her Greek Doctor's Proposal by Robin Gianna Page A

finally got a signal and he answered.
    “Is something wrong, Laurel?”
    How had he known it was her? The man must have put her contact information in his phone. That thought shouldn’t have affected her, since he probably did it for professional reasons, but she couldn’t help feeling absurdly pleased about it. “Becka has a serious gash in her leg from a trowel. Are you at the clinic?”
    “I’m here. Bring her right in.”
    Jason got Becka tucked into the car and hovered there as he fastened her seat belt. “I’d like to come with you, but I better get back to work. At this rate, we’re not going to finish what we’ve started if I don’t.”
    “I’ll be coming back to the dig after we get her fixed up and settled in at the hotel. I’ll let you know how she is,” Laurel promised, partly to relieve his mind and partly to get going before there was some long, drawn-out goodbye. Becka’s leg needed prompt attention. And he was right—they’d never get finished at this rate unless everyone who could still work did overtime.
    Andros must have been watching for them, because as soon as she pulled up in front of the clinic, he strode out of the door and helped Becka inside, Laurel following.
    “You can come along if you want, or you can stay in the waiting room,” he said, speaking to Laurel over his shoulder.
    “I’ll come.” If Becka was anything like Laurel’s sisters, she’d want someone by her side. They might believe they were all grown-up, but inside they still needed someone to turn to for comfort.
    Laurel’s chest felt heavy when the memories unexpectedly bombarded her. She’d been Becka’s age exactly when she’d fallen into the darkhole of grief her parents’ deaths had left her and her sisters with. All those summers she’d been stuck home watching her sisters while her parents were working had seemed hard. Then she’d learned that had been nothing compared to what it felt like for that comforting support to be forever gone.
    “After I take a look, I’ll have to thoroughly wash it out, okay?” Andros settled Becka by a low sink that was really more like an open shower, before his eyes met Laurel’s. “Christina’s not here right now. Want to help me get some supplies?”
    “Of course.”
    She followed him into an exam room, and he pulled gauze, pads and a bottle of some liquid from a closet, handing them to her. “Were you with her when it happened?” he asked as he grabbed some sealed bags of what looked like syringes and suture kits and who knew what.
    “Yes. It’s a long, pretty deep gash. Not sure exactly how deep, but it bled a lot.”
    “What did you do for it?”
    “Tried to bring the edges of the wound together, then pressed on it a while to stop the bleeding. Seemed to work well enough, then I bandaged it and brought her here.”
    “Sounds like maybe you should have forgotten about digging for a living and become a doctor.”
    Fascinated by that unexpected dimple that poked into one cheek as he paused to look at her, she nearly dropped the gauze and bottle and fumbled to hang on to them. “Since I feared I might pass out when I first saw all that blood, I think I chose the right career path.”
    “Think you’ll faint if you watch me stitch it up?” he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “If so, please stay in the waiting room. Last thing either of us needs is for you to keel over and crack open your beautiful head.”
    “I want to be there for Becka.” She was aware of a deep feeling of relief that he obviously wasn’t still irritated with her. Deeper than it should have been. And how ridiculous was it that him calling her head “beautiful” gave her a little glow inside as well? “Since I’m not responsible anymore for whether she lives or dies, I think I’ll be okay.”
    He chuckled then instantly became all business when they walked into Becka’s room and Andros pulled a rolling stool up next to her. “Let’s take a look.”
    Laurel watched