Her Hard To Resist Husband

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Questions he was better off not asking.

“What’s the time frame for pneumonic plague?”

Her question jolted him back to the present. “From exposure to presentation of symptoms? Two days, on average. Although death can take anywhere from thirty-six hours after exposure to a week or more. It depends on whether or not other organ systems besides the lungs have been compromised.”

“Oh, no.”

“Speaking of which, I’ve brought packets of antibiotics in that black gym bag I threw in the back. Go ahead and dig through it and take a dose before we get there.”

Tracy unhooked her seat belt and twisted until she could reach the backseat. She then pulled out one of the boxes of medicine and popped a pill from the protective foil. She downed it with a swig from her water bottle then shoved a couple of strands of hair back from her temple. “You have no idea how glad I am that you were able figure it out so quickly.”

“I think I do.” Surely she realized he was just as relieved as she was. “Not everyone has the equipment we do.”

“Or the backing of the military.”

He ignored the bitterness that colored her words. “Part of the reality of living in a developing country. We’ll catch up with the rest of the world, eventually. Marcelo’s hospital is a great example of that. It’s completely funded by sources outside the government.”

“So is Projeto Vida.” She paused when they hit another rough patch of road, her hand scrabbling for the grip attached to the ceiling. “Speaking of funding, we’ll need to check with the nearest pharmacist to make sure they have enough antibiotics on hand. I’ll pay for more, if need be.”

“I was already planning to help with the costs.” He glanced over and their eyes caught for a second. When he turned his attention back to the road, her fingers slid over the hand he had resting on the emergency brake before retreating.

“Thank you, Ben,” she said. “For letting me come. And for caring about what happens to those people.”

He swallowed, her words and the warmth of her fingers penetrating the icy wall he’d built up over the last four years.

It wasn’t exactly the thing that peace treaties were made of, but he got the feeling that Tracy had just initiated talks.

And had thrown the ball squarely into his court.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_184e2acf-376d-5259-b203-01643558ba9c)

MILITARY VEHICLES BLOCKED the road to São João dos Rios—uniformed personnel, guns at the ready, stood beside the vehicles.

“They’re not taking any chances,” Ben muttered as he slowed the car on the dirt track.

“In this case, caution is probably a good thing.” As much as Tracy worried about the presence of the Brazilian army, she also knew the country’s military had helped ease Brazil’s transition from a Portuguese colony to an independent nation. Not a drop of blood had been shed on either side. The two countries were still on good terms, in fact.

There was no reason to fear their presence. Not really. At least, that’s what she told herself.

Ben powered down his window and flashed his residence card, identifying both of them. “General Gutierrez is expecting us.”

The soldier checked a handwritten list on his clipboard and nodded. “You’ve been told what you’re dealing with?”

No. They’d been told nothing other than Ben being asked to come, but Tracy wasn’t sure how much this particular soldier knew. She didn’t want to start a mass panic.

Ben nodded. “We’re aware. We brought masks and equipment.”

She didn’t contradict him or try to add to his words. She knew he’d done quite a bit of work for the military and he’d probably identified many other pathogens for them in the past. They had also taken the time to track her down and challenge her work four years ago, when Ben had asked them to, something that still had the power to make her hackles rise.

The soldier nodded. “I’ll need to search your vehicle. General Gutierrez said there were to be no exceptions. So if you’ll both step out, please.”

Ben glanced her way, before putting the car in neutral—leaving the engine running and nodding at her to get out. He handed her a mask and donned one himself as he climbed from the vehicle.

The soldier looked in the backseat. He then gave the dizzying array of equipment they were carrying a cursory glance but didn’t open any of the boxes. He seemed to be looking for stowaways more than anything, which seemed crazy. Who would want to sneak into a plague-infested area? Then again, she’d heard of crazier things, and nobody wanted this disease to get out of the village and into one of the bigger cities. Teresina wasn’t all that far away, when you thought about it.

Ben came to stand next to her, and she noticed he was careful not to touch her. She swallowed. Not that she wanted him to. She’d had no idea they’d be thrown together in a situation like the one they were currently facing. But despite the pain that seeing him again brought, she couldn’t have asked for a better, or more qualified, work partner.

She heard her name being called and turned towards the sound. Pedro hurried toward them, only to be stopped by another soldier about fifty yards before he reached them. The man’s point came across loud and clear. Once she and Ben crossed this particular line, there’d be no going back until it was all over. Who knew how long that could be?

“Ben, are you sure you want to do this? You can drop me off and go back to Teresina. There’s no reason to risk yourself and all your work.”

A muscle spasmed in his jaw, his eyes on Pedro. “My name was the one on the dance card, remember?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Besides, this is part of my job. It’s why I work at the institute.”

“Yes, well …” She didn’t know how to finish the statement, since her reasons for wanting him to go back to the safe confines of his office was nothing more than a bid to keep her distance. She’d used his invitation as a way to regain access to the town, but she was also smart enough to know they might need his expertise before this was all over. So she held her tongue.

She glanced back at the soldier, who was currently peering beneath the car at its chassis.

Really? The guy had been watching way too many TV shows.

“Can I go in while you keep looking? My assistant is motioning to me, and I want to start checking on the patients.” Daniel and Cleo were in there somewhere.

The soldier waved her through, even as he switched on a flashlight and continued looking.

“Tracy …” Ben, forced to wait for his vehicle to pass inspection, gave her a warning growl, but she shrugged him off.

“I’ll meet you once you get through the checkpoint. Don’t let them confiscate the antibiotics.”

And with that, she made her escape. Securing her mask and feeling guilty, she stepped around the line of military vehicles and met Pedro, pulling him a safe distance away from the soldier who’d stopped him.

“It’s pneumonic plague,” she whispered, switching to Portuguese while noting he was already wearing a mask. “You’ll need to start on antibiotics immediately.”

“I thought so. They’re staying pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing, but they’ve set up a quarantine area. Those who are ill have been kept separate from those who still appear healthy—which aren’t many at this point.”

“Any more deaths? How are Daniel and Cleo?”

“Who?”

“The two kids we found in the field.”

Daniel, the boy she’d taken samples from, had been lying in a grassy area, too weak to stand and walk. His sister, showing signs of the illness as well, had refused to leave his side. They’d carried them back to an empty house, just as the military had shown up and taken over.

“No change in the boy, although there have been two more deaths.”

“And Cleo?”

“She’s definitely got it, but now that we know what we’re dealing with, we can start them both on treatment.” Pedro slung his arm around her and squeezed. “Can I say how glad I am to see you? These soldier boys are some scary dudes.”

He said the last line in English, using his best American accent, which made Tracy smile. She glanced over at Ben, who was still glowering at her, and her smile died.