The Mills & Boon Sparkling Christmas Collection. Kate Hardy

was a small dining table with four chairs, and a computer table with a desk lamp and laptop; next to it was a bookcase, stuffed with textbooks she recognised and other books that were printed in Greek and could have been anything from medicine to poetry. There were more photographs on the mantelpiece and a stunning watercolour of a Mediterranean seascape.

      She’d just finished laying the table and was about to take a closer look at the photographs when Theo walked in, carrying a plate with hot pitta bread and a bowl of hummus.

      ‘Lunch. And I’m really ready for this. Must be the fresh air.’ He gave her another of those knee-buckling smiles.

      The hummus was good—to the point where she suspected it probably hadn’t been bought from the deli counter of the local supermarket. And when he brought in the next course—a salad of cucumber, tomatoes, olives, red peppers and salty feta cheese, to go with chicken he’d marinated briefly in that dressing before grilling it—she knew for sure that he’d made it himself.

      Theo Petrakis was simply gorgeous. Body, mind and heart—she’d seen him in action in the department enough to know he was kind and clever. And he was a great cook to boot.

      If she wasn’t careful, she could really fall for him.

      ‘That was fabulous,’ she said when they’d finished. ‘You’re an excellent cook.’

      ‘That wasn’t cooking,’ he said. ‘That was throwing stuff together from the fridge.’ He held her gaze, his dark eyes flecked with green and gold and grey. ‘One evening I’ll cook you a proper Greek meal, if you like.’

      Oh, she’d like. ‘Thank you.’

      And again her heart felt as if it had done one of those odd little flips. She decided to take refuge in a safer topic: work. ‘So where did you train?’ she asked.

      ‘With a surname like Petrakis, where do you think?’ he teased.

      Greece? ‘Your English is perfect and you barely have an accent.’ Just enough to be exotic. Sexy as hell. ‘And England’s a pretty multicultural place. So I’m not going to presume to guess.’

      ‘I trained in Greece,’ he said. ‘But I came to England five years ago. I’ve been working in the Midlands.’

      ‘Job enrichment?’ she guessed.

      He shrugged. ‘My grandparents are English. I wanted to spend some time getting to know them.’

      ‘You didn’t see them much of them when you were growing up?’

      ‘No.’

      Something in his tone warned her that this was a sore spot, something to be left alone.

      ‘What about you?’ he asked.

      ‘I trained in London, but my family’s from Suffolk. My cousin Katrina lives a couple of doors down from me, so if we’re on the same shift I see her quite a bit out of work.’

      ‘Is she a doctor too?’

      Madison nodded. ‘She’s in paediatrics. And she’s brilliant.’ She smiled. ‘She’s practically my sister, seeing as we grew up together. Our dads have a family business and our mums are best friends.’ She paused. ‘How about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?’

      ‘Three younger sisters and a brother.’ He went over to the mantelpiece and took a photograph down to show her. ‘This is Sophronia—she’s the next one down from me. Melina’s next, then Thalia, and this is Stefanos.’

      She could definitely see the family resemblance, though all had darker eyes than Theo. ‘Are any of them doctors?’ she asked.

      ‘Just me,’ he said. ‘Sophronia was trying to be a stay-at-home mum, but she missed her job too much.’ He smiled. ‘And she’s very, very good at PR. So she’s gone back part time. Melina’s a chef, Thalia’s an interior designer, and Stefanos is in his last year of an economics degree.’ He replaced the photograph on the mantelpiece.

      On impulse, she joined him there. ‘And who are they?’ she asked, pointing to another photograph.

      ‘Sophie’s children—my niece Arianna and my nephew Petros.’

      It was a candid shot, clearly taken by someone they knew rather than a posed professional picture, and the smiles on their faces were infectious. ‘They’re gorgeous,’ she said, meaning it.

      He was standing close enough for their arms to touch, and a shiver went through her at the feel of his skin against hers. Lord. She couldn’t remember when she’d last been aware of someone in this way. Maybe not since Harry.

      He must have felt the shiver, because he turned to face her. ‘They are,’ he said softly. Gently, he touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. ‘So what are we going to do about this, Maddie?’

      ‘About what?’

      It was a complete fib, and she knew he knew it. He meant about them. About the weird pull between them.

      ‘That night at the ball…I did this.’ He lifted her right hand and skimmed her inner wrist with his mouth. ‘And then I wanted to kiss you here.’ He kissed the soft skin of her inner elbow. ‘And here.’ He kissed the curve of her shoulder, bare except for the spaghetti strap of her top. ‘And…’

      She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, offering him her throat. His mouth brushed against it, and heat sprang up wherever his lips touched her.

      And when his mouth finally connected with hers, her knees went weak. His mouth was soft and sweet and persuasive, and she couldn’t help sliding her hands round his neck, opening her mouth under his to let him deepen the kiss.

      Time seemed to stop, and all she was aware of was Theo. The strength of his body against hers, the warmth of his mouth, the seductive flicker of his tongue against hers. She couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone this much before, even Harry.

      Harry.

      That was where everything had gone wrong last time.

      Too much, too fast.

      And an almighty mess at the end.

      When he broke the kiss, she opened her eyes. ‘Theo. This shouldn’t be happening,’ she whispered.

      He took one step away. ‘Signomi. I apologise.’

      It would be sensible to accept his apology and stop this right now. Except she couldn’t. The need was too strong. ‘Theo, I…That wasn’t quite what I meant.’

      ‘No, you were right in the first place, Maddie. We shouldn’t do this.’ He dragged a hand through his hair.

      It only made things worse because, ever so slightly rumpled, he looked sexier than ever and she wanted him even more. ‘I think my blood pressure’s just gone up ten points,’ she said.

      ‘Mine, too.’ He shook his head in apparent exasperation. ‘This is crazy. Apart from the fact that I’m only here for six months and dating colleagues is usually a bad idea, I’m not in a position to offer you anything more than an affair. And that’s…’ He grimaced. ‘Well, it’s not particularly honourable, is it?’

      She didn’t quite understand. ‘What’s so dishonourable about seeing each other?’

      ‘Because,’ he said softly, ‘usually when you’re over thirty, when you start seeing someone you’re thinking about settling down. So a relationship doesn’t mean just having fun—it means getting to know each other, seeing if you suit each other, seeing if you could be happy growing old together.’

      ‘That makes it sound as if everyone of our age is on the lookout for a life partner,’ Madison said dryly.

      ‘So are you saying you don’t want to settle down?’

      ‘No. When I meet the right person then I’ll want to settle down,’ she admitted. ‘I want what my parents have—what