TEMPTED BY HER BOSS (13 page)

He nodded. There was an edge of disbelief to her voice and her expression was changing. All in an instant. Her shoulders and back straightened, making her two inches taller. Her eyes lit up and the corners of her lips curved upwards. It was like she’d just been given a shot of confidence. And the transformation was startling.

‘Yes, Callum Ferguson said that about you.’ It would be so easy to cross the small space between them and put his arms around her. But he wouldn’t do it. Not again.

Not unless she asked him to.

He had to keep this on a professional footing. For both their sakes.

He put his hand on the doorhandle. Even with Grace lit up he still didn’t like this small space. At this rate he would spend the night sleeping with the doors in his room open to the beach.

‘Why do you think I picked you for the team, Grace? Do you think for a single second it had anything to do with us ending up in the shower together?’

Her eyes widened slightly, probably in shock at the directness of his question.

She didn’t answer straight away. Did that mean she was even considering it? Or that she was trying to conjure up another answer?’

Finally, she shook her head. ‘I hope not.’ Her voice was quiet, almost whispered. Her chin tilted upwards as she adjusted her towel again, drawing his gaze. ‘I hope you picked me because I impressed you with my knowledge of the disease and not with my breast size.’

Her cheeks were flushed, as if she was embarrassed by the very thought of that.

He looked her straight in the eye. ‘I’d already pulled your file, Grace, along with ten other candidates who would be suitable replacements for Mhairi Spencer on the team. You had glowing references from several of your previous placements in the DPA. Being exposed to the powder just brought us together a little quicker. We would have crossed paths soon.’

He folded his arms across his chest.

She stayed silent for a few seconds then sat on edge of the thin mattress on her bed. ‘Thank you, Donovan. That means a lot. When I saw what had been written about me...it just made me doubt the reasons I was here.’ She gave a rueful kind of smile. ‘But I should have known better. After all, let’s face it, I’m not exactly your type, am I?’

Her tone had changed. They were back to the informal, almost playful mood that bounced between them.

He tilted his head to the side. ‘My type? What is that?’

He was amused.

She looked down at her body covered in the thin towel. ‘I’m hardly your usual. Don’t you usually date tall, blonde, willowy types?’

‘Do I?’

‘Apparently.’

‘And are they my type?’ He was still amused. He wasn’t aware that he only dated one kind of woman.

She shrugged. ‘So I’ve heard.’

‘I had no idea my love life was of interest to my colleagues at the DPA. That’s why I never date at work. Too many complications. I don’t like anything interfering with the job.’

Her brow furrowed. ‘Why is that?’ Straight to the point. He was getting to learn that this was a trait of Grace’s. And, to be honest, it was part of her appeal. He’d never liked tiptoeing around people before. It was much better to be up front. Yeah, well. About most things.

‘I like my work to be about work. I don’t like distractions at work. I had a colleague who once got distracted when his wife was taken ill. It played havoc with our work.’

It was almost like a cold chill passed over her body, even though she knew the air temperature hadn’t changed. ‘You’re talking about Matt Sawyer’s first wife, aren’t you? She died on a mission a few years ago.’

His feet shifted uncomfortably and his tanned face had a pale look. Everyone knew about the mission. Everyone knew that Matt had disappeared off the grid for a number of years after that. No one had known if he was dead or alive. Not until he’d turned up two years ago in Chicago with a suspected smallpox outbreak. After a rocky start he’d hit it off with Callie Turner, the doctor who’d led the investigation team. They were married now, with a toddler son, and Sawyer was working with the DPA again on the lecturing circuit.

Donovan looked uncomfortable. ‘That was my first fieldwork assignment.’

‘You were there when she died?’

He took a hesitant breath. ‘Yes...it was awful. He held her in his arms for hours. There was absolutely nothing we could do. Nothing at all. I watched him fall to pieces. All because his wife had been on that fieldwork assignment with him.’

She lifted her hands, conscious that her thin towel was edging downwards. ‘But that was a one-off. Nothing like that has happened since. Matt’s moved on now. He’s married with a kid. So are his sister Violet and Evan Hunter. They met at work too. Why do you think it’s such an issue?’

‘Because I was there, Grace. I saw someone who was one of the best doctors I’d ever worked with unravel at the seams. And look at your examples. Callie doesn’t work for the DPA any more and neither does Violet. They all realised that having an emotional attachment at work means you can’t always do the job you should.’

She took a few steps towards him. She was feeling more and more at ease in his company. It wasn’t that any other guy had ever threatened her. But since the attack, being alone in one place with a guy was a big deal for her. Particularly in the fast-fading light.

Being around Donovan wasn’t uncomfortable. Maybe she was still aware of the touch of his skin, the feel of his lips. Maybe it was the satisfaction of the electricity that seemed to sizzle in the air between them. Whatever it was, it was the first time in a long time she’d been totally at ease—even in her current state of undress.

‘I don’t agree, Donovan.’ She laid her hand on his forearm. ‘I only know what I’ve heard through the grapevine. I heard that Callie Turner hadn’t really wanted to work in this line anyway. And Violet? She’s moved to specialise in foetal alcohol syndrome. I’m not sure the change of jobs was anything to do with working with their husbands.’

He frowned. ‘Do you think you could have a relationship at work and be impartial to the job? Do you really think you could be unemotionally attached if something happened to someone you loved?’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.’ She met his gaze. ‘I’ve never had reason to.’ She paused for a second, not believing she’d just said that out loud.

‘That’s why you don’t date anyone from work? Really?’ She shook her head and leaned against the wall. ‘I love my job, Donovan. I do. I’ve no idea which part of the DPA I’ll end up in. But I do know that I would love my partner to share my enthusiasm and commitment to the job. It’s hard to explain to someone else that you have to fly away at a moment’s notice and you can’t give any indication of when you’ll be back. How do you get someone—who doesn’t understand our work—to understand that?’

He was watching her closely and as his face softened she wondered if it sounded as if she was trying to persuade him he should be dating her. Her words might have implied that and the thought made her cringe. She didn’t want to have to persuade someone to be interested in her. That was embarrassing.

There was the tiniest shake of his head. The muscles in his body tensed. But his voice was quiet. Resolute. ‘I don’t date colleagues, Grace.’

There was no doubt where that was aimed. But instead of hurting her, it only made her indignant.

This time she didn’t reach out gently and touch his forearm. This time she stepped right up to his chest, her head directly underneath his. ‘So you just kiss them, then?’

It was the fewest of words. With everything implied.

She had no idea what was going on his head or hers. She’d been swept away when he’d kissed her. They couldn’t deny the attraction between them any more—not when they’d both acted on it.

Kissing the boss was never an ideal situation. And she didn’t want people to second-guess why she’d got the job.

But part of her was curious about her feelings towards Donovan. She’d never felt a buzz like this before. But in the last few months she’d never met anyone she felt safe around either. Donovan was both.

The dim light cast a shadow over his face. For a few seconds she didn’t know whether he was angry or sad. She could almost read his scrambled thoughts as he tried to make sense of her reasoning.

His fingers clenched around the door handle behind him. He was going to leave. He was going to walk away.

But he didn’t. He dropped his lips to hers as her towel slipped to the floor and all rational thought left the building.

* * *

Her lips tasted even sweeter than before, the feel of her naked body next to his igniting all his senses. One hand circled his back, her palm stroking up and down the length of his spine. The other lifted to the side of his cheek and her fingers scraped against the feel of his stubble.

Remember why you’re here
. The words echoed in his brain as his scrambled senses tried to make order of what he was doing. Grace was beautiful. Utterly delectable.

She was making him lose focus. Making him lose sight of his goals. He was here to do a good job. To get to the bottom of the Marburg virus outbreak. People were already talking. Grace was already under the microscope.

It would hardly ingratiate him or her to the director if he suspected anything had happened between them.

He pulled away, breaking their kiss suddenly. Her lips were reddened and full, her breathing heavy. She was startled and it was hardly surprising. She was standing naked in front of him and if he stayed there a minute longer he would never leave.

He put his hand back on the doorhandle. ‘I’m sorry, Grace. I have to go. This can’t happen between us.’

He yanked the door open and strode out into the warm Florida air before he changed his mind.

CHAPTER SEVEN

S
HE
WAS
WALKING
down the corridor towards him in a purple wraparound dress, flat shoes and her white coat. But in Donovan’s head she was wearing that orange bikini again and walking out from the sun-kissed ocean with water streaming from her body.

‘Donovan? Did you hear me?’ A pointed elbow stuck into his ribs.

‘Hey!’ He turned. John was looking at him with an amused expression on his face. His eyes drifted off towards Grace, who’d stopped to speak to one of the nurses in the corridor.

John raised his eyebrows. ‘If I could manage to keep your attention, even for a few minutes, that would be great.’

He felt a rush of colour to his cheeks. When was the last time he’d actually blushed? Embarrassment wasn’t the norm for him. Then again, he’d always been completely focused on the job before. After the events of last night he was wondering if he’d ever be able to focus on the job again.

He’d been right. This was why getting involved with someone at work was a bad idea. A really bad idea.

He pulled himself back into professional mode. ‘What’s up, John?’

John held out the paperwork in his hands towards him. ‘After fighting for two days, I’ve finally managed to secure us entry to the national park.’

Donovan smiled and nodded. ‘You mean after two days of careful negotiations.’

John let out a stream of colourful language. ‘No. I mean fighting.’

‘So we’re in?’

‘We’re in. You can collect the samples this afternoon.’

The words flowed over him and every sense on his body went on full alert. ‘Aren’t you collecting the samples?’

John shook his head. ‘Callum asked if I could help out in the lab once the case histories were investigated. The samples are practically meeting David at the door right now.’

Donovan bit the inside of his cheek. Darn it. He wasn’t going to countermand an order given by Callum. He might have been the first team leader on the job, but now Callum was here the final decisions would really be made by him.

He cleared his throat. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he was expecting. ‘Where exactly are we collecting the samples from?’

John checked his reference sheets. ‘The fruit bats have some nests in the surrounding tree trunks, but their primary habitat is in the limestone caves. There is a tour of the caves and the entrance and walkways are lit up. Unfortunately, there’s no lighting further inside where the bats roost.’

The horrible creeping sensation he’d been expecting washed over his body. He didn’t care about lights. What he did care about was an open exit route.

‘How far into the caves do we need to go?’

John shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. I think it might be around eight hundred metres. I can check if you want?’

‘No. That’s fine.’

Eight hundred metres. Half a mile. Well away from any visible entrance point. Tracks in caves didn’t go in nice straight lines. Not like Roman roads. No, they would follow every twist and turn of the mountain they were worn into.

John looked back down the corridor and smiled. It was obvious he was oblivious to the thoughts currently crowding Donovan’s head. ‘I take it you’ll want to take our newest recruit on the sample-collecting expedition?’

His head jerked round. Did John know something had gone on between them? How could he?

He bit back the snappy reply that was about to form on his lips. He’d worked with this guy for three years. John was older, and maybe a whole lot wiser. It was obvious he was just yanking his chain. And he had nobody to blame but himself. John had obviously noticed the way he was looking at Grace.

That would have to stop.

‘Grace!’ he shouted down the corridor, his tone a bit sharper than he’d actually meant it to be.

She started and turned round. For a second her eyes widened as she caught the expression on his face, then she obviously realised John was by his side. Her feet moved quickly down the corridor and he willed himself not to watch the swing of her hips in that confounded dress. Her clothes—or lack of them—were going to be the death of him.

‘I’ve reviewed most of the patients,’ she started quickly. ‘There are a few who need some further attention, but most are stable for the moment.’

She was doing exactly what he would expect her to do. Getting on with the job. But even the way she said those words crept under his skin. The quick talking was obviously a self-defence mechanism. He recognised it, because he was in that place himself.

John seemed oblivious. ‘Looks like you’ve got a state park to visit.’

He held the paperwork up to her and her eyes scanned the page. Her fingers automatically moved to her hair, grabbing a little strand and twisting it round one index finger. He noticed the tiniest, subtlest widening of her eyes. ‘I’m going to collect the samples?’ Was that the smallest tremor in her voice?

John kept smiling. He didn’t notice all the little nuances in Grace’s behaviour that Donovan did. ‘Yeah, you and Donovan are going this afternoon.’

‘Can’t you go?’ Her voice had risen in pitch and her eyes were fixed on John, almost as if she didn’t want to look at Donovan in case he questioned her reaction. She hunched and then shrugged her shoulders, as if something had just irritated them.

Her scar. He hadn’t asked her about the scar last night—even though he’d wanted to.

The smile had vanished from John’s face. He reached up and touched Grace’s arm. ‘It’s part of the initiation when you join a fieldwork team. You try out all roles in the team to see where you fit best. Would you prefer not to do it, Grace? Is there a problem?’

His voice was serious, questioning with a little hint of concern. It was important that every member of the team was able to function fully—filling in for each other in case of emergency. Grace had proved herself more than capable of dealing with the clinical cases, but the DPA fulfilled many more roles than that.

She was hesitating. The look on her face told him she was searching her brain for an appropriate answer. She fixed a smile on her face. ‘No, John, it’s fine.’ Her eyes skimmed the information in front of her. ‘We’ll have guides, won’t we? And the caves are lit?’ There was an anxious tone to her voice, along with an edge of hopefulness.

Donovan was curious. She was asking the same kind of questions that he had. He hadn’t noticed her having any kind of reaction in the isolation chamber back at the DPA. Enclosed spaces hadn’t seemed to be an issue for her. So why the reluctance?

John’s eyes were flicking between them both. He was obviously looking for a steer from Donovan. He spoke smoothly. ‘I was just telling Donovan, the caves are quite deep and the fruit bats supposedly roost near the back of the caves. That’s where you’ll be collecting samples. The front part of the caves are lit for visitors, but not the back.’

She baulked. There was no other word for it.

John tried to fill the silence. ‘They’re supposed to be quite atmospheric. You know, with stalactites, stalagmites and lots of fossils. The cave tours are really popular.’

It was all sounding a bit desperado now. Donovan had no idea what her issue was. But he had issues of his own.

He lifted the paperwork from John’s hands. ‘Thanks for this. Grace, I’ll meet you at the front entrance at one p.m.’

The abrupt words made her flinch. And the hurt expression on her face made him flinch in turn.

He couldn’t afford to give her special treatment. He couldn’t afford to make obvious allowances for her. She was expected to do a job. Just like he was.

He turned on his heel and walked away.

* * *

Right now she needed a good old-fashioned shot of midazolam. Something to sedate her and calm her down to a mild panic.

Florida, in summer, in a hazmat suit was not a good place. The suit was airtight, with a one-piece jumpsuit underneath and an outer suit impermeable to most chemicals. The sealed hood with its viewport was stifling, even though she had her own air supply, and the protective gloves made her feel like she had no dexterity at all.

The suits were a necessary evil. The route of exposure of the Marburg virus from the fruit bats had never been discovered. They knew how the virus passed from human to human, but how the virus had got into humans in the first place was still open to debate. It could be airborne, through contact with body fluids from the bats, or from surfaces in the caves. Therefore all staff had to wear protective, airtight suits. Nothing else was an option. They couldn’t risk any more people being exposed to the virus.

She turned. There was no point moving just her head as the hood stayed in place and she ended up looking at the inside. She had to move her whole body round by shuffling her feet in the protective boots. Sweat was already beginning to pool on her forehead and she wasn’t sure if it was the fact that the environment within the suit could be up to twenty or thirty degrees hotter than the temperature outside, or if it was the thought of going into those dark, imposing caves. As soon as the suit was sealed the humidity went up to one hundred per cent within a few minutes—not comfortable for any human.

People were assembling around her. The box for transporting the samples they would retrieve from the caves was sitting in front of her. She could hear Donovan talking through the speaker in the hood to those around about him.

The words were the slightest bit distorted, coming through the hood. But was that a trace of anxiety she could hear?

Grace tried some deep breathing. Long, slow breaths in and out. Her skin was prickling at the deep, blackness at the back of those caves. There was some lighting around the front, but the tourist part only lay in the front part of the caves. Where they were going was
waaaaayyy
back.

She shifted on her feet. She wanted to get this over and done with. If she’d known Donovan would keep talking for so long she would never have let them seal her suit. It was time for some definitive action. She picked up the kit box. ‘Are we ready?’

Donovan’s eyes met hers. There was something about wearing these suits. Lumbering around as if they were about to take a space-walk. There was layer upon layer within these suits and it almost felt as if they were separated by miles instead of inches.

The sun was reflecting off the faceplate of his sealed hood, making it hard to pick up any visual cues. But Donovan wasn’t acting the way he normally did. He was saying twenty words when four would do.

It was almost as if he was stalling.

But why?

* * *

He’d looked at the plans for these caves. Four hundred metres in and they would have to turn a corner, following the natural line of the cave. Four hundred metres in and he would lose sight of the exit. He didn’t care about how dark it was. He didn’t care about how deep they went.

He just wished the way out was always visible. Always in his line of sight. If it was, he would be fine. He could do this. But the map had already told them that wouldn’t be possible.

Which was why he was currently using every delaying tactic under the sun. He hated this. He hated it that he felt like this.

This was the first time his childhood phobia was actually going to cause a problem for his job.

Over the last few years he’d always managed to hide his fear, control it even. The isolation chamber had been tough, but in his head he had always imagined the exit route. But the caves were unfamiliar. They weren’t so easy to visualise.

The state ranger was beginning to look annoyed. And no wonder. A few beads of perspiration were already winding down his back—and he was used to wearing a hazmat suit. The poor guy must feel as if he were boiling alive.

He glanced over at the dark caves once again. It was almost as if they were mocking him, laughing at him and his juvenile fears.

This wasn’t a sealed-in elevator with a door that might never open. Prickles started along his arms, running down to the palms of his hands. It was like a million little centipedes stamping over his skin. He kept talking to himself. Willing himself to stay calm.

He had control. He was choosing to walk in there. He was the team leader. He had to collect these samples and establish if this was the cause of the outbreak. He had responsibilities, to himself and to his team.

And to Grace. She was shuffling around next to him as if someone had put itching powder in her suit. She’d never done this before. He had to set a good example for her.

He had to do this. The quicker he went in there the quicker he got out.

There. He’d convinced himself.

Grace had picked up the sample box and was hovering.

‘Let’s go, people.’ He moved quickly before he changed his mind, walking as best he could in the uncomfortable suit. Grace and the state ranger quickly followed, but he was so focused, so intent on his goal that he barely noticed.

In and out. In and out. If he kept saying it, he might believe it.

* * *

Grace was doing her breathing exercises. She was clutching the sample box as if her life depended on it. What she really wanted to do was turn on her heel and run but, perhaps thankfully, her clumsy suit didn’t allow for that.

She felt as if the blackness from the caves was reaching out towards her like a giant black hand, crossing over the pathways drenched in Florida sunlight and trying to envelop her and suck her in. It put her nerves on edge.

There was a bright white spotlight near the cave entrance, with another few lighting up some of the internal walkways. Her steps slowed as she neared the entry point. Her throat was dry and scratchy even though she’d taken a drink just before she’d been sealed into the suit. Any more liquid could result in other problems. What went in had to come out and she had no idea how long they would be in these caves.

She swallowed. The lights were fine, but they only focused on the front area. The state ranger was already heading through the first cave. Why did the fruit bats have to roost so far into the caves? Sadistic little critters.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second—it was easier not to look—and walked straight into the back of Donovan. The face plate bashed against her nose. ‘Ouch!’