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He nodded, the warm affection in his eyes cooling as he studied her face. ‘Ready to run away yet?’
‘I don’t run.’
‘No?’
The way he said it made her wonder if he knew more about her situation than he was letting on. But so what if he did? She had nothing to hide.
Except for the tattered remnants of her heart. And the disciplinary note in her file.
Her lips tightened. She wasn’t hiding those either. She’d told Tracy that her ‘friend’ had had a run-in with his hospital, but that he’d done nothing wrong. Why, then, had she hidden her identity at first? Though, after receiving her résumé, Tracy had to have realized Stevie had been talking about herself on the phone that day.
‘No, I’m not going to run.’ Not this time. Not even if the boat had the name ‘Typhoid Mary’ inscribed on its side.
She slapped at a mosquito on her arm and immediately wondered if it was a carrier of some deadly ailment. Running didn’t seem like such a bad option all of a sudden.
‘You’ll need to wear repellent. They seem to attack newcomers more than residents. Must have sweeter blood or something.’
‘I bet they don’t attack you at all,’ she said, then realized how childish the words sounded.
A muscle worked in his jaw and one hand went to the back of his neck and rubbed as if trying to ease a knot from the firm muscles. ‘Ready to get to work?’
‘That’s why I’m here.’ The sharp tone made her cringe. ‘Ugh, sorry. Chalk up my bad manners to jet lag, okay?’
‘No problem.’ He lowered his hand and rotated his neck half a turn. Stevie heard several soft pops as the vertebrae along it cracked. He gave a low groan of relief.
‘Do you have back problems?’ No way would she admit she’d begun her education in chiropractic before switching to traditional medicine.
‘Nothing serious. Just getting old.’ But even as he said it, she noticed he slightly twisted his upper body—instead of just his neck—when looking down at her, a classic sign of pain. He’d been fine in the car when glancing over at her, so it was limited to one side. Her brain worked through possible diagnoses before she stopped herself.
It’s none of your business, Stevie. Just leave it be.
‘Shall we go aboard?’ she asked.
‘If you’re sure you’re up for it.’
Something about the way he said it made prickles rise along the nape of her neck. Surely the inside of the boat couldn’t be in worse condition than the outside. She could understand being busy, but lack of hygiene and sterility were things she wouldn’t stand for.
Once she stepped from the rickety dock onto the boat, her heart sank. More peeling paint and the deck’s wooden surface was gouged and pitted. ‘You see patients onboard?’
‘Yes, in the exam-room-slash-surgical-suite.’
Surgical suite. Wow. And maybe they still bored holes in skulls, too. She forced her tongue to the roof of her mouth and held it there, where it couldn’t flap around and say things she would later regret.
Their next stop was the galley. Stevie was relieved to find the food preparation area neat and tidy. ‘Where do you get your drinking water?’
‘The river. The filtration unit on the counter was donated by a relief agency. It’s a three-stage system that filters out particles and then zaps the water with UV rays to kill most bacteria. We can send it through an additional stage that injects a chlorine solution in areas where cholera is endemic.’ A lean finger hooked around the handle of an empty plastic bottle and lifted it. ‘Before the filter, we had to carry clean water aboard in these, which made scrubbing for surgery a complicated affair.’
‘I can imagine.’ She wandered over to the rectangular unit. The metal casing was spotlessly clean. She relaxed a bit. Maybe things wouldn’t be as bad as she’d feared. ‘I knew filters like this existed, but wow. It looks like something NASA would have.’
‘I hear the system used on the space station is similar.’
Matt lounged against a nearby doorframe, one shoulder propped against the wooden surface, observing her. Although lean, his body filled the opening, his dark silky hair brushing the top of the frame. She swallowed, feeling trapped all of a sudden and not sure why. He wasn’t threatening in a scary kind of way.
She rephrased that thought. He was scary, but only because he made her blood rush through her veins simply by looking at her. And that made the man doubly dangerous, since she could no longer trust herself to make wise choices when it came to the opposite sex. Meeting problems head on might work for some people, but for Stevie, avoidance was now the name of the game. And that included avoiding the six-foot-two-inch problem who stood right in front of her.
‘Com licença, Mateus.’ The voice came from behind him, and Matt moved into the room to let the crew members pass.
Mateus, the Portuguese equivalent of Matthew.
So they did go by first names, just like Matt had said. She liked that. Michael would have insisted on formality at all costs. He’d said that to get respect, you had to demand respect. She used to agree, but now she wondered. That kind of respect could be lost in the blink of an eye—or behind the closed doors of an examination room. Besides, she sensed an admiration from these men that wasn’t a result of social standing or titles, but something earned through time and trust.
Would she ever be included in their little circle? Probably not.
‘We’ve put the new doctor’s bags in your room.’
Dull color crept into Matt’s face, and Stevie sensed her scalp heating as well. They’d put her bags in his room? She hovered between saying ‘Thank you’ and squeaking out the protest that scrabbled up her throat, seeking the nearest exit. Before she could do either, Matt wrapped a hand around her upper arm. ‘I’ll show you where your things are.’
As soon as they were through the door, she planted her heels to stop their forward motion, ignoring the way the warmth from his fingers burrowed beneath her skin. Uh-oh. There went that blood-rushing-through-the-veins sensation again.
She tugged free of his hold, furious with herself for having any kind of reaction at all.
‘Why did they put my suitcases in your room? I don’t know what’s going on, but—’
‘Not here. Let’s get out of earshot, okay? They’ve already got enough to gossip about for the next two weeks. We all thought the new doctor was going to be … well, a man. Now you see why it’s so complicated.’
She didn’t. Not at all. ‘Just have them move my bags to another room.’
His brows went up. ‘You’d rather sleep with Nilson and Tiago in the crew’s quarters, then?’
‘What? No, of course not. There must be somewhere else.’
He walked down the narrow aisle, forcing her to follow him. She noted he had to hunch his shoulders to accommodate the low ceiling. ‘There’s not. The space is cramped as it is, there are no extra rooms.’
No wonder he’d flipped out when he’d realized ‘Stefan’ was a woman. Kind of hard to avoid someone when you had to share a bedroom with him. What was she going to do? Lordy, what if he only had one bed in that room?
She’d camp on deck if she had to.
And risk being devoured by mosquitoes?
Maybe.
They came to a doorway, and her heart raced as Matt pushed it open, motioning her through. She squeezed by him, careful not to touch, but all the precautions in the world couldn’t prepare her for the clean masculine scent that followed her into the room. It permeated the space, branding everything in it as his. If she stayed here, would it mark her as well?
She swallowed and forced herself to take shallow breaths as she examined the room. Even with her suitcases piled one on top of the other in the corner, there was barely enough room for two people to stand, much less move about.
She went slack with relief, however, when she spotted two beds, rather than one. Thick woven hammocks, actually, one above the other. A shared mosquito net hung suspended from a hook, tied to the side with a worn bungee cord at the moment. But at night it would be set free, encasing both hammocks in a tight intimate circle. As if they were in their own little world.
Her hard-won composure finally cracked, allowing panic to ooze between the gaps as she stared at the folded blanket and pillow resting on the bottom hammock. A worn paperback—Tom Clancy’s The Sum of All Fears—lay on top of the bedding. How apropos that title was.
Matt had mentioned seeing how tough she really was. They were about to find out.
Her laugh, when it came, was one cackle short of hysterical. ‘Well, I guess this means you want me on top.’
CHAPTER THREE
Her on top? Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to eradicate the image that sprang to mind.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll bunk with the crew,’ he said, his voice coming out as a croak.
She swung around, her green eyes shining with relief. ‘But if their room is as small as this one …’
‘We’ll make do. I’ll hang a third set of hooks above theirs for my hammock.’
She eyed the beds. ‘That will put you almost flush against the ceiling. You’ll have no room to move.’
Yeah, almost like being inside a fabric coffin. His fingers massaged his neck muscles, trying to get rid of the ache that just wouldn’t quit. ‘Whatever it takes.’
‘You are aware that hot air rises, right? I’m already dripping with sweat, and I’m on the floor.’ Her eyes went to the ceiling. ‘It’ll be like being in a slow roaster up there.’
Exasperation washed over him, and he dropped his hand, allowing it to slap against his thigh. ‘Thanks for pointing out all the positive aspects of our situation.’
‘No problem.’ She licked her lips and paused. ‘Listen, we’re both adults, and it’s not like you’ll be able to see … anything once I’m in bed. I can wear gym shorts and a T-shirt rather than my PJs. If we leave the door open at night and restrict our dressing and undressing to the bathroom, we should be fine.’
Good suggestion—except that Matt didn’t normally wear anything to bed. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about looking up at night, knowing those sweet curves were lying just over his head, close enough so that all he had to do was reach up and …
‘Give me a couple hours to think it over.’ He backed out of the room and into the hallway.
She shrugged as if he were the one with the problem, not her. ‘Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t offer.’
It would almost be better if she’d wiggled her hips and implied that the offer went beyond mere sleeping arrangements. Then he could ship her butt back to Manaus with a clean conscience. The last thing anyone needed was a messy two-week fling. And a long-term relationship was out of the question. Vickie had been it for him. Now that she was gone …
He had no doubt Stefani would be going home at the end of those two weeks, if not before. Even if she didn’t turn tail and run, he’d already asked Tracy to keep looking for a replacement. Surely Stefani could understand his concerns now that she’d seen the conditions. It wasn’t just him, he had the crew to think about—and some of the tribes were bound to have a problem with him bringing in an unattached female. If the vessel were bigger, having team members of the opposite sex might be more feasible. Or if he and Stephani were married …
Who was he kidding? Even the thought of marriage made his stomach tighten with dread.
‘How about showing me the rest of the facilities?’ she said, forcing his mind back to the situation at hand.
‘Sure. Let me tell the men to get under way first.’ He paused. ‘Unless you’d like to go back to the airport now that you’ve seen the boat?’
Her shoulders straightened. ‘I knew what I was signing on for.’
‘That would normally be my cue to argue and give you one more chance to change your mind, but we’re already behind schedule. And, as Tracy continually reminds me, I really could use the help. I’ll be right back.’
Once he asked Nilson to cast off, he gave Stefani the tour, stopping by the restrooms first. He suppressed a smile when her nose wrinkled at the mention of river water being pumped in for showers. ‘We do run it through a filter, so you won’t find anything crawling through your hair when you’re done.’
‘Ugh. It’s better not to put images like that in my head.’
When they arrived at the examination room, her eyes widened. ‘This is amazing.’ She glanced up at him. ‘I have to admit, you had me worried for a while.’
He peered at the room, trying to see the space through her eyes. ‘How so?’
‘When I saw the outside of the boat and the … er, restroom … Let’s just say I wondered what I might find in here. But it’s spotless.’ She touched the gleaming chrome handle of the scrub sink. ‘Does this water come from the river as well?’
‘Yes, but it goes through a steam process, then stored in a sterile tank prior to use.’
‘It seems you’ve thought of everything. How are the instruments sterilized?’
‘Same method. Afterwards, they’re shrink-wrapped into kits. It’s time-consuming, but we don’t do many surgeries.’
She tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, drawing his attention to her high cheekbones and long dark lashes. There was a china-doll delicacy to her that made him wonder what crazy impulse had led her to sign up for a tour down the Amazon. Was she trying to prove something to herself? To someone else?
Wandering to the center of the room, she paused between the twin stainless-steel exam tables. ‘These are top of the line. This set up must have cost a small fortune.’
‘Yes. Which is why the rest of the boat looks a little worse for wear.’ It was a half-truth, and he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend the ship’s condition, but now that the words were out, he stubbornly expanded on them. ‘We put as much money as possible into caring for our patients. As long as the ship is solid and in good mechanical order, I figure the doctors and crew can afford to scrimp on the little things.’
She laughed. ‘Like real beds.’
‘Actually, no. Hammocks are more practical. No risk of bedbug infestations or other creepy crawlies that can hide inside a mattress. And they’re cooler than traditional beds. I think you’ll be surprised at how comfortable they are.’
He omitted the fact that the beds swung gently with every movement, whether that movement came from the boat or from other, more sensual, activities.
She tilted her head and looked up at him as if she could read his thoughts. ‘I’ll have to re-evaluate some of my opinions.’
Time to put some space between them and the subject of beds. ‘Anyway, as far as this particular room goes, we need to keep the risk of contamination to a minimum. Which means access is limited to doctors and patients.’
‘Understood. Do you ever keep patients overnight?’
‘On occasion. If we’ve had to operate, for example. Or if …’ he forced air into his lungs ‘… one of the team becomes ill and we have to transport them to a major city.’
She paused, her eyes sliding across his face. Her pupils dilated, and compassion flared within their depths. ‘You’ve had to do that, haven’t you? Transport a team member.’
He couldn’t go down this road. Not today. Trying to head off any further questions, he checked his watch, relieved to find it was almost noon. ‘Let’s go see what Tiago has come up with for lunch.’
Lunch turned out to be a one-pot meal called carurú do Pará, featuring dried shrimp and okra. It was unlike anything she’d ever tasted, but delicious just the same.
‘Do you like it?’ Matt asked, forking a piece of shrimp into his mouth.
‘It’s wonderful. I’ve never had okra in anything but jambalaya.’
Tiago, who she’d found out was the team’s cook, nodded. ‘Good, yes?’
Reverting to Portuguese, she asked what other kinds of dishes were popular in the region. Smiling, he rattled off several names, but the words were unfamiliar. It was amazing how two languages could be the same and yet so very different.
Matt must have noticed her confusion as well. Keeping the conversation going in Portuguese, he asked, ‘Your accent is different. Where did you learn the language?’
‘I lived in Portugal for seven years as a child. My father worked at the American Embassy.’
‘That explains it.’
