TEMPTED BY HER BOSS (4 page)

Her gaze met his and he looked away hurriedly. But not before she’d caught the expression in his eyes. One of pure lust. Wow.

He glanced at his watch, cursed and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

‘What’s wrong?’ She looked over at the clock. It was just after six. Chances were they would be stuck in here all night. Was Dr Handsome going to have to break a date?

He took a couple of steps away from her—as if that made any difference in an isolation room. There was no privacy in here.

His voice was deliberately low as he left a message on a machine, ‘Hi, Hannah, sorry I couldn’t catch you. I’ve got a problem at work. I could be here a while. Possibly even overnight.’

She could almost imagine the lithe blonde model of the moment weeping into the salad she was about to miss at her cancelled dinner date. But then things took a strange turn.

‘So, if you don’t mind, could you check on Casey for me? Do what needs to be done? You’ve got the keys to my apartment. Thanks. I’ll be in touch.’

Now Grace was confused. That hadn’t seemed like a broken dinner date. ‘Who’s Casey?’ The words were out before she could stop them. Being confined with Donovan Reid was giving her a confidence that had been missing for a long time.

He shot her a look. Would he tell her it was none of her business? No, he was scrolling through something on his phone. He turned it around. ‘Casey’s my dog. He’s a bit old and temperamental.’

‘Wonder where he gets that from?’ She leaned forward to look at the photo, which had obviously been snapped in a park somewhere, of a black and white terrier-type dog. She looked at Donovan and wrinkled her nose. ‘I didn’t take you for a dog person.’

‘Really? Why not?’ Was he offended?

She shrugged. ‘You’re too intense. Always totally focused on the job. I always imagined you live in one of those sparkling white apartments that you’re hardly ever in. A dog’s a commitment. You just didn’t strike me as a commitment sort of guy.’

He folded him arms across his chest and looked amused. ‘Well, there’s a character assassination if I’ve ever heard one.’

‘What?’ Her heart beat started to quicken. ‘No, I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Yes, you did. And that’s what I like about you, Grace Barclay, you say what’s on your mind. You don’t spend six hours trying to think of how to word it.’

She let out a little laugh. ‘Okay, guilty as charged. I sometimes speak without thinking.’ She shook her head. ‘But I’d never, ever deliberately offend someone.’ She raised her chin, ‘I happen to think Casey looks like a great little character.’

Donovan wagged his finger at her, ‘Oh, no, don’t ever let him hear you call him little.’

‘He won’t like it?’

‘He definitely won’t like it.’ The atmosphere between them was changing. It was almost as if he was
flirting
with her. Did Donovan Reid even do that? Maybe she
was
under the effect of some weird disease and it was playing havoc with her brain cells.

‘Will your dogsitter be able to help out?’

He gave a brief nod. ‘Always. Hannah’s very reliable. She’ll go around as soon as she gets the message and make sure Casey’s walked, fed and watered.’

Her imagination immediately started whipping up pictures of what Hannah looked like. A woman with a key to Donovan’s apartment? But something distracted her. There was a huddle of people outside the glass. But she was far more interested in the conversation that seemed to be happening outside. Six of her colleagues were gesticulating and arguing about something.

‘Donovan...’ She pointed her finger. Her heart sank. Please don’t let them have discovered it was some weird, deadly disease. They were obviously drawing lots to see who would tell them.

Donovan looked over his shoulder and his gaze narrowed. ‘What’s going on?’ He strode over to the glass. ‘Has something happened?’

There were a few mumbles, before one of the staff members was finally selected to answer the question. He walked over and spoke in a low tone to Donovan. Questions were fired backwards and forwards.

After a few seconds Donovan turned to face her. But it wasn’t fear on his face. His brow was furrowed and the tiny lines around his blue eyes had deepened. It was total confusion. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as he took a few steps towards her, ‘Grace, what do you know about the Marburg virus?’

CHAPTER TWO

W
OW
. T
OTALLY
OUT
of left field. So
not
what she had been expecting him to say.

It took a few seconds for her scrambled brain to get itself in order. Then her professional mode switched into play. Donovan Reid wasn’t the only one around here with an encyclopaedic knowledge—she just hadn’t had much opportunity to show hers off.

She swung her legs off the bed and walked towards him. ‘What’s going on? The Marburg virus? Is that what we’ve got?’ Because from what she could remember, she certainly wouldn’t want to have it.

He shook his head. ‘No. It’s not what we’ve got. But someone else has it—down in Florida. First case in the US in years.’ He started pacing around; she could tell he was agitated. Desperate to get out of this glass box and start dealing with another infectious disease. Donovan Reid was permanently looking for the next disaster to deal with. And this would be the biggest disaster since the suspected smallpox outbreak. How on earth could an African disease be in the US?

She screwed up her face. The migraine was still there, but the dimmed blue lights were definitely helping—as was the fact she’d had something to eat. Along with the meds and the quick thirty-minute nap she might actually shake this off.

The blue glow was doing strange things to Donovan Reid’s skin. It was almost like being in a nightclub. She didn’t even want to think how pale it was currently making her look.

She reeled off the first thing that came into her head. ‘Marburg haemorrhagic fever. First discovered in Germany in the 1960s where workers were exposed to infected tissues from monkeys. Now it’s usually passed to humans by bats. Previous cases have mainly been in Africa, or in travellers who’d just visited. There’s no vaccine, no real cure, just treatment of symptoms.’

Donovan spun around to face her, his eyebrows lifting appreciatively. ‘Well, well, I’m impressed. All that with no computer in front of you.’

She folded her arms across her chest. This was it. This was her chance. A chance to make up for her earlier blunder and try and find a foothold into his team.

Everyone wanted to get a permanent place on one of the fieldwork teams. It was the cutting edge of disease detective work. The front line in dealing with patients and making the biggest difference to the prevention of infectious disease.

She’d made an agreement with girls earlier to fight dirty for a place on his team. It was time to show him just how encyclopaedic her brain was.

‘Actually, that’s the just the summary. Would you like me to tell you the rest of the details? The fact that the last known case was in Uganda? It’s got an incubation period of five to ten days. And it’s got between a twenty-three to ninety per cent fatality rate.’

Oh, yeah. She was batting big style now. Being trapped in here hadn’t been much fun. Getting naked in front of Donovan Reid had been nothing short of humiliating.

There had to be at least one bonus in this lousy day.

Her mouth was running away with her now. ‘Under the microscope it has a really distinctive shape—like a shepherd’s crook, which means it’s rarely mistaken for anything else.’

She saw the flicker of amusement in his blue eyes. ‘That’s okay, Grace, that’s more than enough.’

Just as well. The light in here was doing distracting things to his blue eyes. Enhancing the colour and making them look a movie-star bright shade of blue. She was fast losing all concentration.

David, one of the other doctors, was reading a whole host of information through the glass to Donovan about the lab tests. ‘Frank just got phoned about these. He’s confirming the results.’

It was standard procedure. Most labs weren’t equipped to do the specialist tests that the DPA carried out. Anomalies were noted, along with patient’s symptoms and if there was any query of infectious disease, the samples were forwarded to the DPA.

‘Do we know anything about the victim?’

Victim. Not patient. It only meant one thing.

‘They’re dead?’

David nodded. ‘They died an hour ago. But they’ve had a child admitted with similar symptoms, so we’ve got a rush on to try and get a diagnosis.’

It made sense. Once they had a diagnosis they could find the best possible treatment for the patient.

David was still reading from the paper in his hand. ‘Jessie Tanner, sixty-seven, from Florida. Admitted four days ago with diarrhoea, vomiting, maculopapular rash and jaundice.’

That name.

Grace’s skin prickled, every hair on her arms standing on end. There was no air movement in the isolation room but she could almost swear a cold breeze had just blasted her. No. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

David was still talking, ‘Deteriorated rapidly. Didn’t respond to IV or oxygen support.’

‘Oh, no.’ Her hand covered her mouth. She was trying frantically to remember. When was the last time she’d spoken to her? Had she said anything different? ‘Oh, no. I’ve missed something. I didn’t take her seriously.’

Donovan frowned. ‘What on earth are you talking about. Grace? How on earth would you know someone in Florida?’ His face paled, ‘Is it family?’ There was an edge to his voice, a real concern.

Grace shook her head fiercely, her heart beating furiously in her chest. ‘You don’t get it, Donovan. It’s her. Jessie Tanner phones here every day.’

‘What for?’ He didn’t get it. It was clear he had no idea what she was talking about.

She took a deep breath, ‘Donovan, Jessie Tanner is crazy bat lady.’

* * *

‘What?’ All the heads outside the isolation room shot round at the rise in pitch in Donovan’s voice.

Grace jerked back as if she’d just been stung by a wasp.

He couldn’t believe his ears. This wasn’t happening. It just wasn’t. This was one of those crazy, muddled dreams you had, with totally random things happening all around.

Nothing about today seemed real.

Least of all being naked in a shower with Grace.

He put his hand on her shoulder, trying to make sense of what she’d just said. ‘How can you be sure?’ He had a bad feeling about this.

She took a deep breath. ‘Because I remember things. I remember details. That’s her name. That’s where she lives.’ Grace put her head in her hands and groaned. ‘She hasn’t phoned the last few days. I wondered what was wrong with her.’

Donovan looked at David. ‘Get the call log. Find out the last time she called and who spoke to her. Find out what her query was.’ David walked away swiftly.

Grace lifted her hands. ‘But it’s the same thing every day. It’s always questions about the bats. There are some in the caves near her, and in the forest next to her.’

She screwed up her face. ‘But how could African fruit bats get to a cave in Florida?’

David shook his head. ‘African fruit bats probably couldn’t, but Jamaican fruit bats could. I’ll get someone from environmental health or the fish and wildlife service.’

There was a movement to their side. Frank from the lab. This time he wasn’t wearing the hazmat suit and he had something in his hands. He pushed the button outside the isolation room’s pressurised doors, not waiting for the second set to close before he walked in.

He was laughing, holding up the sample bottle with a tiny bit of powder in the bottom.

Donovan caught the shout in his throat. Frank had been here longer than him. He knew more about biohazards than Donovan ever would. It must be safe.
They
must be safe.

‘What is it?’

Frank smiled, he was shaking his head. ‘You’ll never believe it.’

‘Try me.’ He wasn’t in the mood for jokes. The sooner he knew that the staff around him hadn’t been exposed to anything dangerous the better.

‘It’s honey dust.’

‘What?’ Of all the things in the world he’d expected to hear, that hadn’t featured at all. No wonder Grace’s skin and hair had glistened.

Frank kept laughing. ‘I know. I can’t believe it either. Must have been some high-school kids playing a prank.’

Now he knew his staff were safe Donovan felt his blood pressure rising. ‘Some prank. They shut down our agency for the last few hours.’ He waved his hands around the isolation room. ‘Look at the procedures we had to put in place. I don’t even want to guess how much this has cost us.’

Frank shrugged. ‘I’m just glad we don’t have a full-scale incident on our hands. This could have been our worst nightmare.’ He lifted his hands. ‘I’ll take a high-school prank over a real-life disaster any day.’

‘What’s honey dust?’ Her voice was quiet, timid. He’d almost forgotten she was standing behind him.

He and Frank exchanged a glance. Grace Barclay didn’t know what honey dust was. Who was going to tell her?

Frank pressed the sample bottle into Donovan’s hand with a glint in his eye. ‘I’ll leave this with you, Don. I’ve let the lead investigator from the FBI know we’ll be standing down. I take it they’ll fingerprint the letter and try and track it.’ He was still smiling, his gaze flicking back towards Grace. ‘I have some more tests to run on another possible outbreak. Come and see me in an hour.’

The Marburg virus. He’d need to deal with that as soon as possible.

Frank left, chuckling away to himself as Grace continued to stare at Donovan.

She stepped towards him, fixing her green eyes on his. ‘I don’t get it. What’s going on? What’s honey dust? I take it’s not dangerous?’

He shook his head and tried to hide his smile. ‘Dangerous—no.’

‘And?’

There was no way out of this. He was just going to have to spell it out. ‘It’s a type of body powder, it makes the skin glow and...it tastes like honey.’

‘Why on earth would it taste like—? Oh.’ Her eyes widened as realisation struck home. Her cheeks flushed with colour and she instantly looked down at the floor. ‘Someone sent that as a prank? Wow.’

She was embarrassed. And he liked it. Her feet shuffled nervously on the floor, her hand twiddling a still-damp strand of her hair.

He really ought to put her out of her misery and change the conversation, but this was kind of cute.

The more he was around her, the more she piqued his curiosity. He rubbed his finger and thumb together. He could almost still feel the smoothness of her skin, along with the angry, ragged stab wound. There was more to Grace Barclay than met the eye.

He cleared his throat. ‘We’ll need to do a debrief about this later. The Director will expect one.’ He looked around him, ‘We’ve only ever done drills in here before. This time we had a real life chance to see how things could work out.’ He picked up some notes that he’d scribbled earlier. ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I can think of a few areas for improvement. How about you?’

She sighed and leaned against the glass wall. ‘I don’t ever want to be in here again—drill or no drill.’

He smiled. He knew exactly how she felt. ‘Me neither. I’m sort of hoping that my suit and shoes haven’t already been incinerated.’

She cringed. ‘I’d forgotten about that. Darn it. That was my favourite shirt.’

‘Mine too. It brings out the colour of your eyes.’

Their gazes locked together for a second, ignoring the movements around them as the news spread and their colleagues realised the crisis had ended.

He’d meant it. And the words had come out before he’d had a chance to think about them. Being in close quarters with someone did that to you. Made you say things you really shouldn’t.

She shot him a sarcastic smile, ‘Yeah, right, Donovan. This from the guy who a few hours ago didn’t even know my name.’

He shrugged. ‘I know you lunch every Friday in the staffroom opposite the gym.’

Her mouth gaped a little. Did she really think he hadn’t noticed her? His cool act was working way better than he thought.

Grace Barclay was smart. She’d been able to tell him about Marburg virus off the top of her head. She’d connected the dots and realised who Jessie Tanner was. It could have taken them days to find that connection. She was gorgeous. And had a body to die for.

What more could a man want?

His focus shifted. He could think about the last few hours later. Right now he had another priority—one in which it seemed the DPA was already implicated.

‘How do you feel about fieldwork, Grace?’

She shuffled her feet. It seemed to be her ‘thing’. The trait that revealed her nerves. But the gaze she met his with was steady. She was doing her best to give the impression of someone with confidence.

‘I’d really like to get some experience. I’ve been here for the last seven months. Apart from a few practical assignments with Callum Ferguson, I’ve not had much experience.’

Callum Ferguson, the longest-serving member of the DPA. They even called him the Granddad of Disease. If she’d done a few practical assignments with Callum then she’d learned from the master. He hadn’t heard anyone complain about her.

It secured the thoughts he’d already been toying with. He had a vacancy in his team that needed to be filled. In everyday circumstances he’d ask for all the files of his junior colleagues and look for a suitable replacement. He’d ask around for recommendations—find out who was ready for the next step.

But he didn’t need to do that now. And he didn’t want to waste time. If Marburg virus was the next big outbreak he wanted a full team available to investigate.

They were free now. Free to get out of this isolation room and get back to work. And he knew exactly who he wanted to work with.

He held out his hand towards her. ‘Grace Barclay, welcome to the team.’