‘All right, I’ll do it.’ Libby smiled, pleased with her idea. ‘Alex can buy me. At least that should ensure that no one else does.’

Especially Philip.

Ever since she’d arrived at Philip’s flat unannounced and surprised him in a very compromising position with a stunning blonde who had turned out to be his wife—a wife he’d never thought to mention—Philip had been desperately trying to get to see her. He’d called her mobile so often that she’d finally switched it off and told her friends to call her on the ward. At least Bella, the receptionist, could field her calls.

She absolutely did not want a conversation with him about what had happened.

As far as she was concerned, there was nothing to talk about.

The man was married. And he’d lied to her.

‘Did you manage to get any extra help for tomorrow?’ She knew that the staffing situation was dire.

Bev shook her head gloomily. ‘The nursing situation is bad, but fortunately the new consultant starts on Monday so at least we should finally have some more medical support.’

Libby nodded. They’d been a consultant short and that had put tremendous pressure on everyone.

‘I’ll come in early tomorrow,’ she offered, and Bev bit her lip.

‘I can’t ask you to do that, you’ve worked a double shift today…’

‘You didn’t ask. I volunteered.’

Bev leaned forward and gave her a hug. ‘You’re brilliant, and if I were a man I’d definitely buy you.’

‘And then you’d go home and sleep with a woman who turns out to be a wife that you conveniently forgot to mention,’ Libby said dryly. ‘So tell me—is the new consultant a woman or a rat?’

Bev laughed. ‘He’s a man, if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘Oh well, you can’t have everything.’

With a wistful smile Libby stroked the baby’s smooth cheek and then laid her carefully back in her cot, tucking the sheet around her.

The baby was so beautiful. It made her terribly broody, caring for her, and she would have loved one of her own.

It was just a shame that having a baby required contact with a man.

* * *

Less than twenty-four hours later, Andreas Christakos strolled onto the ward, six feet three of broad-shouldered, drop-dead-handsome Greek male.

The night sister, confronted by this unexpected vision of raw, masculine virility, dropped the pile of sheets she was carrying and lost her powers of speech.

Acknowledging that it probably hadn’t been quite fair of him to arrive unannounced, Andreas extended a lean, bronzed hand and introduced himself.

The night sister paled slightly. ‘You’re the new consultant? We weren’t exactly expecting you…’ She stooped to pick up the sheets, visibly flustered by his unscheduled appearance. ‘Did you want to see—? I mean, it seems a little late—’

‘I merely came to familiarise myself with the whereabouts of the ward,’ he assured her smoothly, his eyes flickering over the walls which were covered in brightly coloured children’s paintings. ‘I don’t officially start until Monday.’