Locked Down With The Army Doc: Locked Down with the Army Doc / The Brooding Surgeon's Baby Bombshell

She gave a gentle smile. “Thought I’d lost you for a second there. Maybe the jet lag is getting to you after all.” Her tone had changed a little. It was almost as if she’d just had a look inside his brain for a second and seen what he’d been lost in.

He gave a small sigh and tried to imagine meeting her in any other set of circumstances than these. “If I was any kind of gentleman, I should be trying to charm you and be swirling you around the ballroom floor in there.”

She leaned her head on her hand. “But that’s what I like. You’re not trying to charm me. In fact, I should be insulted, because it seems as if you couldn’t care less.” She wrinkled her nose. “I did hear that Scots guys could be grumpy.”

He straightened up. “Hey, that’s the guys from Edinburgh. Not the guys from Glasgow.” He tugged at his shirt, trying to make himself look more presentable. “And anyway, I have charmed you. I bought you chips.”

She stared down at the bowl. “Chips?”

He shook his head. “You call them fries. We call them chips.”

She pointed to a box behind the bar. “Oh, no. Those are the chips.”

He smiled and leaned a little closer. “No, no. They’re crisps. And I was just being polite earlier, calling them fries. Didn’t want to confuse you.”

She threw back her head and laughed, revealing the pale skin on her long neck, then shook her head and leaned a little closer. “The more tired you get, the stronger your accent gets. Any more Scottish and I’ll need a translator.”

His brow furrowed. “Nothing wrong with my accent. You just need to pay attention—concentrate a little more.”

“Says the man who is sleepwalking at the bar.”

He waved a fry with his fingers. “I’m not sleepwalking—I’m sleep-eating. There’s a difference.”

She leaned over and snagged another fry. They were dwindling faster than should be possible. This woman was smart, confident and full of sass. He liked that. “So, what brings you here?”

She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Yeah, yeah, I should be in there too. Schmoozing. But the truth is, I’m not much of a schmoozer.”

He raised his eyebrows in mock horror. “You don’t say?”

“Hey.” She smiled. “It’s my one and only true failing as an adult.”

“You’ll admit to one?”

She nodded solemnly. “One, and only one.” Then she laughed and shook her head. “But you? I bet I could write a whole list.”

Her stomach gave a little grumble and she started, putting one hand on it as a little pink flushed her cheeks. “Oops, I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

He looked down at the plates. All remnants of the burger were gone and there were only a few fries left in the bowl.

“I could eat the whole thing again.” He sighed.

She looked a little sheepish. “Sorry, I just stole half of your dinner.” She waved over the bartender. “Can we order the same again, please?”

The bartender leaned closer. “I have to be honest. The kitchen is a little slow this evening and bar food is even slower. Between you and me, the quickest way to get served is to order room service. You’ll get it in half the time because they prioritize those orders.”

Jack paused for only a few seconds, and then he stood up. He nodded to the bartender. “You know my room number—can you put it through as a room-service order?”

The bartender glanced between them briefly then nodded. “Of course, sir. Any drinks to go with the food?”

Jack leaned on the bar. “Any drinks for you?”

Ms. Mystery looked stunned for the briefest of seconds. Then he saw that sparkle in her eyes again. He wasn’t propositioning her—not tonight at least. He was still hungry and she was good company. He had no qualms about inviting her to his room.

“Diet cola,” she said quickly as she stood up from her bar stool. There was a hint of a smile on her lips. He hadn’t even had to make the invite; he’d just worked on the assumption she would join him. And it seemed she was taking up the challenge.

He turned back to the bartender. “Make that two, thanks.”

The bartender disappeared and he crooked his elbow toward her. “Looks like I’m about to buy you dinner for the second time this evening.” He glanced toward the packed ballroom, then paused. “You okay with this?”

Her eyes scanned the ballroom too and she gave the briefest shake of her head. “I have the strangest feeling I might be in safe hands with you, Mr. Grumpy Scot. I think I can take the chance.” She laughed. “And to think, I took this position at the bar because you looked like the least trouble in the room.”

As they headed toward the elevators, he couldn’t resist. “Honey, I’m more trouble than you could ever imagine.”

CHAPTER TWO (#u1e7bdafe-6a39-5204-bdde-eb590586f72b)

AMBER GLANCED AROUND the foyer and tugged nervously at her black suit jacket. She rubbed her cheek self-consciously, wondering if the imprint of her Scotsman’s shirt button had finally left her skin.

It was embarrassing. One minute they were laughing and joking, legs stretched out on the bed after they’d shared the second burger; next she was blinking groggily, aware of the rise and fall of a muscular chest beneath her head. She’d peeled herself back oh-so-carefully, removing the arm and leg she had draped around his sleeping form.

For a few seconds she lay rigid on the bed next to him, her mouth dry, trying to work out what had happened. But it only took a few seconds to orientate herself. Nothing had happened. Nothing at all. She was still fully dressed—the only items missing were her shoes, which were strewn across the floor alongside her bag. He was minus his jacket and shoes too, but his trousers and shirt were still firmly in place.

She took a few steadying breaths. His room was almost identical to hers, so she slid almost in slow motion from the bed, gathered her things and tiptoed to the door. It was ridiculous. All that had happened was they’d fallen asleep. Now she thought about it, he’d fallen asleep first and she’d been so relaxed and so tired; she’d meant to get up a few minutes later. Instead it seemed she’d snuggled up for the night.

As she closed the door behind her while holding her breath, she wondered if she should be offended. They hadn’t even kissed. And he was more than a little hot. Maybe he hadn’t been attracted to her?

By the time she’d reached her room she’d started to get mad. Irrational and pointless, but, hey, that was just her. Half an hour later she was showered, hair tied back and looking as pristine as she could. She grabbed some coffee and fruit at the breakfast buffet and sat down at a table for a few moments.

This presentation was important. She was representing her agency to more than five hundred delegates. She could make connections today that could help her career. Not that she had ambitions right now. She loved her job. But the work the Disease Prevention Agency did was international. Having contacts across the world was always helpful. Last night had thrown her off balance a little. And she couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. Nerves weren’t usually a problem for her but she couldn’t pretend her stomach wasn’t currently in knots. She stared at the huge breakfast buffet then back to her untouched fruit. Apple. She picked a few pieces of apple out of the bowl with her fork then followed up with a large glug of coffee.

There was a rumble around the room immediately followed by heads turning. It was almost like being in a room of bobbing meerkats. Her eyes flickered out to the horizon. The ocean looked a little darker and there were some black clouds in the far-off distance. There were a few nervous laughs around her. “Maybe it was one of the volcanoes telling us all to behave,” said someone close to her.

“I don’t know,” said one of the women close by in a tone Amber didn’t quite like. “I wonder if it could be something else.”

Just then the doors to the main auditorium opened and people started to file inside. Amber glanced at her program. It was over an hour until she had to speak. The conference organizers had already told her the presentation was prepared. All she had to do was stand at the podium and talk. She’d initially planned to wait outside and practice, but her churning stomach told her that probably wouldn’t do anything to quell her nerves. Maybe listening to someone else would be enough distraction to keep her calm.

She picked up her things and let herself be carried in with the crowd, taking a seat near the aisle in a row close to the back of the auditorium. Within a few minutes the lights dimmed and a professor from one of the national organizations delivered the introductory speech. “Our first speaker is Jack Campbell, Senior Medical Officer in the Royal Army Medical Corps. Dr. Campbell has just finished his second tour of duty. As many of you will know, some of our most widely used medical products were first introduced on the battlefield—and it looks like we’re about to hear about a new revolutionary product that could help save lives across the globe. I give you Dr. Jack Campbell.”

There was a round of applause in the room as a man in uniform walked across the stage to the podium. Amber blinked. Then blinked again.

A medic. He was a medic.

As he started to speak, her skin tingled almost as if his familiar accent were dancing across it. Jack. His name was Jack. The man she’d spent the night wrapped around was delivering one of the keynote speeches of the conference.

Every hair on her body stood on end. Nothing had happened last night. Nothing. But...it could have, if they both hadn’t fallen asleep.

Her stomach did a flip-flop. She’d spent the last ten years avoiding any close relationships with fellow medics. And now she’d just accidentally spent the night wrapped around one. Hardly her most defining moment.

Why hadn’t she asked more questions? The truth was, as soon as she’d realized he was Scottish she’d assumed he must be part of the business and economic conference. The UK had the NHS—a government-run health service. Her brain had automatically told her that it was unlikely the NHS would send a doctor to the other side of the world for a conference. But a private business—they probably sent employees to international conferences on a weekly basis. And she’d just automatically put him into that slot.