Tempted by Her Boss

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 (#ulink_996963dd-f31c-58ce-84e7-2d40476e6452)

WOW. TOTALLY 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.’