Locked Down With The Army Doc: Locked Down with the Army Doc / The Brooding Surgeon's Baby Bombshell
Scarlet Wilson
Susan Carlisle
About the Authors (#u1e7bdafe-6a39-5204-bdde-eb590586f72b)
SCARLET WILSON wrote her first story aged eight and has never stopped. She’s worked in the health service for twenty years, having trained as a nurse and a health visitor. Scarlet now works in public health and lives on the West Coast of Scotland with her fiancé and their two sons. Writing medical romances and contemporary romances is a dream come true for her.
SUSAN CARLISLE’s love affair with books began in the sixth grade, when she made a bad grade in mathematics. Not allowed to watch TV until she’d brought the grade up, Susan filled her time with books. She turned her love of reading into a passion for writing, and now has over ten Medical Romances published through Mills & Boon. She writes about hot, sexy docs and the strong women who captivate them. Visit SusanCarlisle.com (http://www.SusanCarlisle.com).
Also By Scarlet Wilson
A Touch of Christmas Magic
The Doctor’s Baby Secret
One Kiss in Tokyo...
Christmas in the Boss’s Castle
A Royal Baby for Christmas
The Doctor and the Princess
The Mysterious Italian Houseguest
A Family Made at Christmas
The Italian Billionaire’s New Year Bride
Resisting the Single Dad
Also By Susan Carlisle
The Doctor’s Redemption
His Best Friend’s Baby
One Night Before Christmas
Married for the Boss’s Baby
White Wedding for a Southern Belle
The Doctor’s Sleigh Bell Proposal
The Surgeon’s Cinderella
Stolen Kisses with Her Boss
Christmas with the Best Man
Redeeming the Rebel Doc
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Locked Down with the Army Doc
Scarlet Wilson
The Brooding Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell
Susan Carlisle
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09587-7
LOCKED DOWN WITH THE ARMY & THE BROODING SURGEON’S BABY BOMBSHELL
Locked Down with the Army © 2018 Scarlet Wilson The Brooding Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell © 2018 Susan Carlisle
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#ua2eef66d-5f34-57b8-864c-b99170de07ed)
About the Authors (#u69bb64c4-8f89-5d31-8d53-810255de04e8)
Booklist (#ue3899245-eeeb-5b3f-829b-252cce3758c3)
Title Page (#u738e0a84-9f1d-578d-bee3-53d00da117fe)
Copyright (#u4fe893d4-37bc-5fa4-b318-ca9fee6eb741)
Locked Down with the Army Doc (#u143f457d-d133-5bb7-80ee-dea3d557d221)
Back Cover Text (#u7c5009e7-7290-54cb-ad0b-22cff5d1dace)
Dedication (#u80210462-fdc0-5493-96d7-0d11e93f531c)
CHAPTER ONE (#u78d9e3c0-f296-53cc-be04-96637b2a9c23)
CHAPTER TWO (#ue3226079-e8a7-58f4-8d50-bab9f56756ed)
CHAPTER THREE (#udf27300e-5092-59a5-ac6b-94cb0bcc1760)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u67865e49-2caf-5a1e-ba7d-2ea72079d876)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
The Brooding Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell (#litres_trial_promo)
Back Cover Text (#litres_trial_promo)
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Locked Down with the Army Doc (#u1e7bdafe-6a39-5204-bdde-eb590586f72b)
Scarlet Wilson
There’s a crisis in paradise!
But is her heart at risk...?
When Dr. Amber Berkeley met ruggedly handsome Jack at a conference in Hawaii, she never imagined they’d end up locked down together in the middle of a hurricane! Army doc Jack’s take-charge attitude pushes straight-talking Amber’s buttons—until their sparks ignite into a fierce attraction! Amber has a “no doctors” dating rule for good reason, but amid disaster rules are meant to be broken...
This book is dedicated to all the loyal readers
of Medical Romance all over the world.
Thank you for letting me write for you
and for enjoying Medical Romance.
CHAPTER ONE (#u1e7bdafe-6a39-5204-bdde-eb590586f72b)
AMBER BERKELEY LEANED against the wall of the elevator as it descended to the ground floor. The doors reflected a kind of odd image. She’d forgotten to check in the mirror before she left. Her half-up-half-down hair looked like some kind of bewildered lost animal on her head. She let out a laugh. She didn’t even want to know what her bright pink lipstick looked like. Truth was, she didn’t really care.
Tonight’s ball was bound to be full of specialists and consultants who were all too important to breathe. She loved her job, but some doctors just seemed like a different breed entirely. Self-important. Self-interested. Amber didn’t waste much time on people like those.
Tomorrow she was lecturing at one of the most prestigious conferences in the world. And she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t nervous. Hawaii was a magnificent setting. One hundred per cent more gorgeous than most of the places she visited. The Disease Prevention Agency tended to send their staff to investigate outbreaks and try and prevent the spread of infectious diseases.
Most of her time was either spent in the main base at Chicago, or on one of many expeditions as part of a team, generally to places with few or poor facilities.
This five-star hotel in Hawaii was like something out of a dream. She’d even been greeted by the traditional colorful leis on check-in. And, corny or not, she’d liked them. The beach outside had perfect golden sand with sumptuous private loungers and straw parasols complete with serving staff. This part of the main island near Kailua Kona was a perfect piece of paradise.
Her first-floor room had a gorgeous view of the Pacific Ocean, which seemed to change color depending on the time of day. So far today it had gone from clear turquoise blue to light green. Shimmering like a tranquil soft blanket stretching to infinity.
As the doors pinged and slid open, the noise and the aromas of the food surrounded her. The room was full of people talking, a sea of dark tuxedos with a smattering of colored dresses in the mix. She threaded her way through, keeping her chin raised as she glanced from side to side. She had to know someone here. But the sea of faces didn’t reveal anyone familiar. Amber’s nose twitched. She wanted easy company. A chance to share a few drinks, grab a few snacks and get rid of the butterflies in her stomach for tomorrow.
She stared at a sign on the wall. Ah...there were two conferences on in the hotel—not just the one she was attending. It seemed that a world of business and economic experts were here too.
Just before she’d left, the director of the Disease Prevention Agency had called her into his office. She’d only seen the inside of his office walls on two previous occasions. Once, on the day she’d started. And second, on the day she’d received her promotion.
“Dr. Berkeley,” he said solemnly. “I wanted to wish you well for tomorrow. There’s been a lot of interest in our contribution to the conference. Thank you for presenting the meningitis research for us.”
Amber gave a nod and a smile. “I’ve loved being part of the meningitis work. I’m honored to present on it.”
The director nodded. “And you’re confident you can answer any questions?”
Amber held up the list in her hand. “I’ve spent the last few months eating, breathing and sleeping meningitis. I think I’ve got it covered.”
The director didn’t even blink. “Oh, I’m not worried for you.” His eyebrows rose as she stood from her chair. “I’m worried for them. Let’s hope they’re ready for you, Dr. Berkeley.”
She’d smiled as she’d left. It seemed that her take-no-crap attitude was getting a reputation of its own. She wasn’t embarrassed by it. Not at all. She’d never seen the point in beating around the bush. She’d always talked straight, to patients and to colleagues. Medics could be notoriously sexist. And Amber could be notoriously blunt.
Had it cost her a few jobs? Maybe. Had it earned her a few others? Definitely.
A guy with a paunch belly and gaping shirt approached her, beer sloshing from his glass. “Hello, gorgeous. Where are you going to?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Away from you.” She didn’t even glance at the lanyard round his neck. She had no intention of finding out his name.
She’d always vowed never to go out with a fellow medic. Life experience had taught her it wasn’t a good idea.
She glanced around the room again. This was probably her worst-case scenario, wall-to-wall fellow medics, with copious amounts of alcohol flowing.
A few seconds later she met another charmer who refused to let her step around him. “We must stop meeting like this.” He grinned as his hand closed around her forearm and his eyes ran up and down her body.
She didn’t hesitate. She flipped his arm up and twisted it around his back, catching him completely by surprise and thrusting him in the other direction as the woman next to her laughed out loud. “Yes, we must,” she said sharply.
The main bar in the center of the room was currently three people deep. Her chances of getting a drink were slipping further and further away.
Her eyes homed in on another bar on the far side of the room and through a set of doors. It looked much more sedate. She could have a glass of wine, check out the list of bar snacks then head back to her room and enjoy the view.
She threaded her way through the rest of the crowd. There were a few people who obviously knew one another sitting around tables. Even from here she could recognize the medic talk.
Right now she couldn’t stomach that. So she headed directly over to the stools at the bar. There was a broad-shouldered guy already sitting there. He looked as if his whiskey was currently sending him into a trance.
Perfect. Too drunk to be a pest.
Or if he wasn’t? She could deal with that.
She smiled as she sat down, crossed her legs and leaned her head on one hand. He might be tired but he was handsome. Actually, he was more than handsome. He was good-looking with an edge of ruggedness. His dark hair was a little rumpled and his suit jacket had been flung carelessly onto the bar stool next to him. She couldn’t get a look at his eyes as his head was leaning forward toward the glass. But she could see the lean muscle definition beneath his pale blue shirt, the slight tan on his skin and the hint of bristle around his jawline. She smiled and just couldn’t help herself. “Well, aren’t you just the original party pooper?”
* * *
Jack Campbell blinked and blinked again. Nope. It had definitely happened. Or maybe he was just hallucinating. He stared into the bottom of his whiskey glass again and clinked the ice.
The warm spicy aroma emanating from the woman sitting next to him started to surround him, just as she crossed her long legs on the high stool, revealing the daring split in her floor-length black dress.
Even from here, he’d noticed her the second she’d appeared at the entrance to the ballroom. She was taller than most women, but wasn’t afraid to use her height, combining her black sheath dress with a pair of heels and piling her dark hair with pink tips on top of her head. He’d watched her survey the room, ignore a few admiring glances, give short retorts to two men who dared to try and approach her and, now, she’d just crossed those exceptionally long legs and given him a clear view of them. Her black heels had ornate straps and crisscrossed up her calves.
At least he thought he’d watched her. Maybe he was dreaming. Truth was, he was so tired the only reason he was still awake was that his body was craving food. Food he seemed to have been waiting an eternity for.
He gave himself a shake. Maybe he needed another whiskey. The first one was putting him in that strange state between fact and fiction. His stomach rumbled loudly, so he lifted his hand to grab some nuts from a bowl on the bar. Quick as lightning, someone gave his hand a light slap.
For a second he was momentarily stunned. Then he shook his head and gave a smile of disbelief as he turned in his chair.
She was staring straight at him with a pair of bright blue eyes. He couldn’t help himself. It was as if the fatigue coupled with a dash of whiskey had reduced all his usual politeness and social norms to a scattering of leaves beneath his feet. “Did you really just hit me? For trying to eat a peanut?”
She gave a shrug. “Yeah, sorry about that. Force of habit.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t look too sorry.”
She pulled a face and waved her hand. “Actually, I’ve just saved you.”
Now he was amused. “Saved me from what?”
She shook her head and pushed the bowl away. “Probably some kind of horrible death. Best way to catch some kind of disease.” She shuddered. She actually shuddered. “If I sent those to a lab I could horrify you.”
He deliberately leaned over her, ignoring her orange-scented perfume, and plucked a nut from the bowl, holding it between his fingers. “One tiny little nut is going to fell me?”
She arched her eyebrows and blinked. There was black eyeliner flicked on her eyelid, enhanced by her thick extra-long lashes. With those blue eyes she really was a bit of a stunner.
“If I could put that in an evidence bag right now and send it to the lab I would.” She shrugged. “But, hey, it’s your poison. Your stomach.”
“This is how you meet people? You attack them at the bar and steal their food?”
For a second she looked momentarily offended, but then she threw back her head and laughed. She put her elbow on the bar and rested her head on it. “Actually, my ambition this evening is not to meet anyone—I just wanted to grab a drink, some food and get out of here.”
He gave a slow nod. “Ah, great minds think alike, then.”
She looked a little more conciliatory. “Maybe. Sorry about the slap. Bar snacks make me testy. It really is an automatic reaction.”
He laughed. “How many states have you been arrested in?”
She sighed. “More than you could ever know.”
He could see the way her careful eyes were watching him, obviously trying to size him up. He liked her quick answers and smart remarks. He mirrored her position, leaning his head on his hand for a second as a wave of tiredness swept over him.
And then she spoke. “I’m trying to work out if you’re drunk or just in a coma. I’m warning you—I’m off duty tonight.”
The corners of his lips headed upward. Maybe he was imagining all this? Maybe he was already dreaming? Or maybe the jet lag was making him see things. If this was a hallucination, those words were so not what he was expecting. He let out a laugh. “I could actually be a bit of both. Jet lag and drinking—” he held up the whiskey glass “—are probably not the best idea in the world. But do I care right now?” He shook his head as he downed the remains at the bottom of the glass. “Not really.”
Now she laughed as the bartender came over and set a coaster in front of her. “Well, the jet lag explains the accent. But not the complete disregard for your fellow man.”
The bartender caught her eye. “What can I get you?”
She looked at his glass. “I’ll have what Mr. Happy’s having.”
Jack raised his eyebrows at the bartender. “Better just put both on my tab.”
She drummed her fingernails on the bar next to him. “Who said I wanted you to buy my drink?” Her overall presentation was quite glamorous but her nails were short and clean. Curious. Most women these days tended to have glittery painted talons.
“Don’t drink it,” he said smartly. “I can easily drink both.”
She smiled. A genuine, wide smile. The pink tips of her hair matched the bright pink on her lips.
“You are easily the most crabbit man in the room.” She gave a wink. “Is that Scottish enough for you? I learned that from a Scottish colleague.”
He tried not to smile as he nodded his head and furrowed his brow. “It’s a well-used word. My granny might have called a few people crabbit in her time.”
She gave a smile. “Yeah, crabbit. I like that. It means you won’t be a pest.”
“But you will be.”
“Ouch,” she said as the bartender brought over the drinks.
She lifted the glass to her nose and sniffed. “What is this, anyhow?”
“Guess.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Oh...guessing games. I know it’s whiskey. I’ve just no idea what kind. And here was me thinking tonight was going to be totally boring.”
He liked her. He was actually beginning to wake up a little. But that still didn’t stop him putting his head on the bar for a few seconds. He closed his eyes and murmured, “I’m dreaming of snacks. I’ve only eaten airline food for the last twenty-eight hours. And you’ve stolen the peanuts.”
She was still sniffing the whiskey but laughed anyway and grabbed a bar menu. “Haven’t you ordered?”
He sighed as he lifted his head again. “I think I ordered around ten hours ago. Apparently the kitchen is busy, but—” his fingers made the quote signal in the air “—it’ll get here soon.”
She set down the whiskey glass and gestured to the bartender. “Actually, can you give me a glass of rosé wine instead, please?” She gave Jack a sideways glance as she pushed the glass toward him. “This is too rich for my tastes.”
He was still leaning on his hand. After a few hours in a fugue, his brain was kick-starting again, along with his dormant libido.
“I’ve never really met anyone like you before,” he murmured.
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that a pickup line?”
He laughed. “I’m too tired and too lazy to try and pick you up, right now. But, hey, look me up tomorrow. I’ll probably have a whole new lease of life.”
“With those circles under your eyes, I doubt you’re even going to see tomorrow. I bet you sleep right through.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no. I have to see tomorrow. I’m speaking—at the conference.” He gestured behind her. “I should probably be in there right now, trying to charm my way around the room and into a new job.”
“You’re looking for a new job?” She gave a half smile. “What? Been fired from everywhere in Scotland?”
The bartender set down her wine in front of her, along with the biggest burger and plate of fries Jack had seen in forever. He couldn’t help it. “Praise be. Food of the gods.”
She sipped her wine and he could feel her watching him with interest as he snagged a fry. “I’m warning you. Try and put any of this in an evidence bag and I’ll have to wrestle you to the floor.”
She pushed up from her bar stool, leaning over to steal one of his fries. “You Scots guys. You think you’re tough. You ain’t got nothing on a girl from Milwaukee.”
She bit into the fry and nodded. “Better than it looks. And, because it came fresh from the kitchen, I won’t tell you any horror stories about it. I save them for the bar snacks.”
Her stomach growled loudly and he couldn’t help but laugh again.
He picked up his knife. “Okay, then, mystery woman. Since you’re obviously the least boring person in the room, I’ll make a deal and share with you.” He waved the knife at her. “But let’s be clear. This isn’t normal behavior for me. I’m just too tired to fight.”
He cut the burger in half and pushed her half toward her. “But no more insults. And—” he looked down at her long legs “—I still think I could take you.”
She picked up her half. He liked that. A woman who didn’t pussyfoot around her food. “Okay, then. Because I’m starved and can’t be bothered to wait for room service, I’ll take your offer.” She gave him a sideways look. “You haven’t even told me your name.”
He nodded as he poised the burger at his lips. “Kinda like it that way.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Me too.”
She waited a second then added, “Are you really here looking for a job?”
He waited until he’d finished chewing. “I’m still officially in employment for the next two weeks. After that?” He held out one hand. “The world is my oyster. I’ve had a couple of offers. Haven’t decided whether to take them up or not.”
“Don’t you need a paycheck?”
He paused for a second. “Of course I do. But right now, it’s more important I take the right job, rather than just the first one that comes along.”
She studied him for a few seconds. He could see a whole host of questions spinning around in her brain, but she was far too smart to ask. Instead she grinned as she stole another fry. “Makes you sound old.”
“You think?”
“Definitely.”
He shook his head. “I’m not old. I’m just...well-worn.”
She laughed again as she took another sip of wine. “At what? Thirty? Thirty-five?”
He choked. “Thirty-five?” He patted one of his cheeks. “Wow. I was really conned by that moisturizer. I wonder if it’s got a money-back guarantee.”
He leaned a little closer. “I’ll have you know I have a whole ten days before I reach the grand old age of thirty-five.”
He narrowed his gaze as he looked at her again. “But two can play at that game.” He gave a slow nod and took his time letting his gaze go up and down her length. “I’m guessing, forty? Forty-six?”
She let out a little shriek. “Forty-six! Oh, no way, buster. You’ve had it now.” She leaned over him again, her soft skin brushing against his as she lifted the whole bowl of fries out of his reach.
“Not the fries!”
She perched the bowl in her lap and nodded solemnly. “Surely you know a woman of my maturity needs to keep her strength up.”
He liked her. He liked her a lot. The room opposite was full of anxious glances and too much “my qualifications are better than yours.” Too many people wanting to talk about how wonderful they were as loudly as they could.
Jack was here for one reason. To present his research. To let people know he’d found something that had made a huge difference in a wartime setting. The difference between life and death.
That was the privilege of being an army doctor. He got to try things—sometimes out of desperation—that private clinics and hospitals around the world would throw their hands up at in shock.
But, so far, some of the best medical inventions ever had come from the battlefield. Freeze-dried plasma, handheld inhalers for pain relief, a specially designed applicator for ketamine to treat trauma casualties, and his own particular find—a type of wound dressing part clay, part algae that stopped severe bleeding in under twenty seconds. It had already saved over a hundred casualties who would have surely died. If they started using it in trauma bays around the globe, it could potentially save millions.
Ms. Mystery next to him leaned over and put her hand on his arm. “Hey? Everything okay?”
The feel of her warm hand sent pulses up his arm. He blinked. “Yeah, of course.”
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.
She gave a tiny shudder. That was what happened when you made assumptions. She lifted her head and looked at him again, angry with herself.
She’d found him attractive. She’d liked flirting with him. The truth was, more than she’d expected to. And now he was here. Standing right in front of a room full of professionals and addressing the room.
And boy, could he speak. She sat mesmerized along with the rest of the audience as he described his time in Afghanistan and the sometimes limited resources. He showed a new wound dressing he’d developed—a mixture of clay and algae that could stop severe bleeding and form a clot within twenty seconds.
Amber could almost see the ears pricking up in the room and people sitting a little straighter in their seats. Those twenty seconds could be the difference between life and death.
His accent drew the audience in—as did his demeanor. He was a commanding figure, especially in uniform. He spoke with passion about his work, but was also realistic and even a little self-deprecating. All things that had drawn her to him last night. He acknowledged everyone who’d worked alongside him, fellow doctors, surgeons and army medics. He showed pictures of some of the soldiers who had been treated and had their lives saved by this dressing that had been used in the field. Finally he showed cost pricing for the wound dressings along with approximations of lives that could be saved across the world. She could sense the buzz in the air; it was almost infectious.
Then he just stopped.
After a few seconds people started glancing nervously at each other. The presentation had finished and his image was now being shown on the large screen behind him in intimate detail. As she watched she could almost swear she saw a little twitch at his right eye—those brown eyes that had almost seemed to bewitch her last night. She gave herself a shake. Where had that come from?
His eyes seemed to focus and he started talking again. “This product was conceived in a place of war. It was needed. It was essential to save lives—and it will be essential to saving lives in the future. War is never a situation you want to be in. People die. Families are devastated and lives change...forever.”
He took a deep breath. “What makes me sad is that we need something like this. I’m sad that, even though we’re no longer in a time of war, because of gun and knife crime, this product will continue to be needed.”
His words echoed across the room. It was the way he said them, the change in timbre of his voice. She could hear the emotion; she could almost reach out and touch it. Even though the temperature in the room was steady, she could swear that a cool breeze swept over her, prickling the hairs on her arms.
People around her were openmouthed. Then slowly, but surely, applause started throughout the room. Within a few seconds it gathered pace and Amber couldn’t help but smile as she glanced at the nods of approval and the conversations starting around her.
“Do you think we should get it?”
“It would be perfect for paramedics.”
“What an investment opportunity...”
The professor crossed the stage again, shaking Jack’s hand enthusiastically. He then launched into the next introduction. “Our next speaker is a doctor from the Disease Prevention Agency.”
Amber felt a wave of panic.
“Amber Berkeley has been working there for the last five years. She specializes in meningitis and will be presenting some of the latest research into emerging strains. Please welcome Dr. Amber Berkeley.”
Darn it. She stood up quickly. She’d come in looking for distraction and Jack Campbell had certainly met the criteria. Usually she would spend the five minutes before a presentation going over things in her head and taking some time to do controlled breathing. But she hadn’t even thought about the presentation the whole time she’d been in here. Somehow her attention had all been focused on her mystery almost-suitor from last night.
She walked smartly down the auditorium, climbing the steps and shaking the professor’s hand. Her heart was thudding so loudly she almost expected everyone else to hear it.
She glanced at Jack, who was giving her an amused look. Rat fink. Could he sense her panic? “Dr. Berkeley,” he said with a nod of his head as the corners of his lips turned upward.
“Dr. Campbell,” she answered as coolly as she could, trying not to take in how he filled out his army fatigues. She was sure he could have worn his more formal uniform for an event like this, but somehow the fatigues suited him—made him look more like Jack.
Her hands were shaking slightly as she set them on the podium, waiting for the professor and Jack to leave the stage. She tried to still her thoughts and let her professional face slide into place. She’d always been bothered with nerves. It was weird. Put her in a clinical situation—even an epidemic—and she could deal with the pandemonium of that no problem. Put her in a classroom setting, or even an interview setting, and her heart would race at a million miles an hour, making her thoughts incoherent and her words even worse. She’d had to work at this. She’d had to work hard.
She took a few deep and steadying breaths. Truth was, she could do this presentation in her sleep. She knew the information inside out. But could she present with the commitment and compassion that Jack just had? He was a hard act to follow.
A horrible queasiness came over her. That familiar feeling of not being good enough. The way she’d constantly tried to prove herself to her father by getting perfect grades, being the first in her class, qualifying for med school—all just to gain a second of his attention. Those memories ran deep—even though her father was gone. She hated feeling this way. And as she looked out over the sea of expectant faces, she felt her anger spike.
She looked up as Jack descended the stairs to her right. At the last possible second he turned his head, gave her a cheeky grin and winked at her. Winked at her.
A little spurt of adrenaline raced through her body. The cheek. Right now, she could cheerfully punch him. Anything for an outlet to the bubbling frustration she was feeling inside.
She lifted her head and looked out at the still-waiting audience. She could do this. She could. She could be good enough. She could deliver her presentation with the same passion and commitment as he had. She would deal with Jack Campbell later. She tilted her chin upward and plastered her most professional smile on her face. “Thank you so much for inviting me here today...”
* * *
So her name was Amber Berkeley. It suited her. A tiny bit quirky, with a hint of grace.
He’d had no idea she was a speaker at the conference. That was the thing about not sharing names and trying to be a little mysterious—it made you miss out on other things.
He’d left the stage and stood at the back of the auditorium listening to her. Her nerves were clearly evident. Her hands had been shaking and she’d been white as a ghost as she’d stepped up to the podium. Last night she’d been brimming with casual confidence. He’d liked that better.
But as he’d stood and watched, the woman he’d met last night had slowly emerged. It was clear she knew and understood her subject matter. She spoke eloquently about meningitis and its spread, the way that the different viruses adapted and changed and the problems that could cause. He was impressed with the way she handled random questions that were thrown at her about the new emerging types of meningitis and the difficulties in diagnosing quickly enough for appropriate treatment.
He’d learned something new. And as she stepped down from the podium and walked back up the aisle toward him, he waited for her at the door, pushing it open as she approached.
The light in the foyer was bright compared to the auditorium. She stepped outside, blinked for a few seconds then unfastened her jacket and breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“You winked at me, you cheeky...” She left the last word missing.
“Did I?” He raised his eyebrows.
She shook her head and sagged against the wall for a second. “Thank goodness that’s over.”
He looked surprised. “You were good. What on earth were you worried about?”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Who said I was worried?”
“Do your hands normally shake?”
Her tongue was stuck firmly inside her cheek. She waited a second before replying, then pulled her shoulders back and started to walk past him. “For that, you owe me breakfast. I couldn’t eat anything earlier but right now I could probably eat the entire contents of the kitchen.”
He held his arm out, gesturing toward the nearby hotel restaurant, trying not to fixate on the swing of her hips in that skirt. “Your wish is my command.” Then he gave a little smile. “I seem to buy you a lot of food.”
She tutted and shook her head as she walked past him, letting one of the waiters show them to a table looking out over the Pacific Ocean. The wind had whipped up outside, bringing the earlier dark clouds closer and making all the parasols on the beach shake.
Amber glanced outside. “What’s that all about? I came here for sunshine and good weather.”
Jack shrugged. “Almost looks like a day in Scotland instead of Hawaii. Must just be in for a bit of bad weather.”
Amber sat down quickly as the waiter showed them to a table. She didn’t hesitate to order. “Can I have coffee, please? Not just a cup—a whole pot. And some eggs, sunny-side up, and some rye toast, please.”
Jack gave a nod and tried not to smile again. “I’ll have what she’s having—and some orange juice, please.” He waited until the waiter had left. “So, you didn’t want to hear the next speaker?”
She laid her hand on her stomach. “Are you kidding? If I’d stayed in there I’m sure all five hundred delegates would have heard my stomach rumbling. I had to eat.”
Her hair was tamer today, tied back in a slick ponytail instead of piled haphazardly on top of her head. The pink tips were just visible when she turned her head. The simple black suit and white shirt were elegant, but as they sat at the table, she pulled off her jacket and rolled up her shirtsleeves midway, revealing a host of gold bangles.
“You ducked out on me.”
She looked up quickly. For the briefest of seconds she looked a bit startled, but he could almost see her natural demeanor settling back into place. “How do you know I ducked out? You were too busy snoring.”
He shook his head. “I don’t snore. You, however...”
“You never told me you were a doctor.” The words were almost accusing.
“Neither did you.”
For a second she didn’t speak. It was almost like a Mexican standoff.
He could see her swallow, and then she gave him a haughty stare. “I don’t mix with fellow doctors.”
Jack leaned forward. “What does that mean?” He held out his hands. “And what do you call this?”
“This,” she said firmly, “is breakfast. Breakfast is fine.”
He kept his elbows on the table, wondering if he could lean even closer. “Oh, so I can buy you food. But you can’t spend the night with me?” He wanted to laugh out loud. She sounded so uptight, and that seemed a total turnaround from the woman he’d met last night.
But now he was curious. “So, what exactly is wrong with doctors? After all, you’re one.”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “I know. It’s just...” He could see her try to find the words. “It’s just that I don’t like to mix work with...” She winced.
“Pleasure?” He couldn’t resist.
She closed her eyes for a second.
He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “So, if I’d told you last night in the bar I was a doctor, you wouldn’t have come back to my room with me?”
She bit her bottom lip. He could tell she knew she was about to be challenged.
“Well, yes.”
He held open his arms. “It’s a conference full of medical professionals. The hotel is full of them. Who did you think you might meet in the bar?”
She shrugged. “There’s more than one conference on in this hotel. I thought you were maybe one of those—” she waggled her hand “—business, economic-type guys.”
He let out a laugh. He couldn’t help it. From the second he’d started studying medicine it had felt as if he practically had doctor stamped on his forehead. He put his hand on his chest. “Me? You honestly thought I was some kind of accountant, computer, business-type geek?” He shook his head. “Oh, my army colleagues would just love that.”
She looked distinctly uncomfortable and he tried to rein in his amusement.
“Why are you getting yourself so worked up? Nothing happened. You know it didn’t.” He gave her a kind of sideways glance. “Maybe...if things had been different and jet lag hadn’t been involved then we could be having an entirely different conversation today.”
He was probably pushing things. But it was true. There had been a spark between them last night. He wouldn’t let her try and deny it.
Her face was pinched; there were faint wrinkles along her brow. He couldn’t actually believe it. She really, really did have an issue with the fact he was a doctor.
He’d worked with colleagues in the past who didn’t like to mix work with relationships. It wasn’t so unheard of. Maybe if he’d adopted that rule he wouldn’t have ended up losing someone. He wouldn’t have felt the need to shut himself off entirely from the rest of the world.
But even as he had that thought he knew it was ridiculous. Relationship or not, they would still both have been posted to Afghanistan. He’d been tortured with what-ifs for a long time before he realized nothing would have changed.
He saw a glimmer of something in Amber’s blue eyes. A spark at his words. Baiting her was easy.
She flung her paper napkin at him. “No way.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Purely because I’m a doctor?”
She neglected to answer that part of the question and gave him a long stare. “Let’s just say had you been some mysterious businessman...” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs. “It’s a bit insulting, really.”
Was she changing tack? He mirrored her actions and leaned back in his chair. “What is?”
“A man inviting you back to his room, then promptly falling asleep and ignoring you.”
He squirmed. When he’d woken up this morning he’d cringed. He remembered sitting up in the bed together to eat their second burger and fries. He also remembered watching some old movie with her and laughing along at the lines. And he could just about remember a warm body wrapped around his in the middle of the night. He’d tried not to remember the fact it had felt good because that flooded him with things he didn’t want to acknowledge.
He lifted his hands. “Guilty as charged. Sorry. It was the jet lag.” He put his elbow on the table and leaned a little closer. “But now? Jet lag is gone. Let’s start again.”
Even though she’d just tried to joke with him, she still looked the tiniest bit uncomfortable. She obviously took her “no fraternization with other medics” rule seriously. He couldn’t help but be curious.
He waved his hand. “Relax, Amber. This is just breakfast. Nothing more. Nothing less. What do you have against fellow doctors, anyway?”
She didn’t meet his gaze; she just sucked in a breath as her fingers toyed with the cutlery on the table. “Let’s just say I lived in an environment with an absentee medic who was obsessed with his work. As a child I had no choice. As an adult, it’s not a situation I ever want to repeat.”
He wanted to ask questions. He did. But somehow he got the impression it wasn’t really the time. He was curious about this woman. And after two years, that was a first for him—one that he couldn’t quite understand.
The waiter appeared with the coffee and filled up their cups. Jack decided to take things back to neutral territory. “You might have told me you were a speaker.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You might have told me you were starting off the conference.” She gave a thoughtful nod. “You were good. I was impressed.” Her eyes ran up and down his uniform. “I can’t believe I thought you were at the business conference. I should have guessed. Your suit didn’t quite fit perfectly—and, let’s face it, those guys probably spend on their suits what I would on a car. I should have guessed you were an army guy. I’m still surprised you didn’t mention it.”
“I’ll try not to be insulted by the suit comment—because you’re right. I much prefer to drive a reliable car than buy a fancy suit. If you want to split hairs, you didn’t mention you worked for the Disease Prevention Agency. Aren’t you guys supposed to walk about in giant space suits?” He grinned and nodded his head. “Now I understand the comments at the bar about the peanuts.”
She shuddered. “You have no idea what we’ve found on bar snacks.”
He laughed as he kept shaking his head. “And I don’t want you to tell me.” This was better. This was more what he wanted. He could gradually see the tension around her neck and shoulders start to ease.
The waiter appeared with their eggs and toast, and Amber leaned over the plate and inhaled. “Oh, delicious. And just what I need.”
She ate for a few minutes then looked back up at him. “Your wound dressing. It looks good. How on earth did you discover the science behind it?”
Jack was spreading butter on his toast. “There’s been quite a bit of work on clot-forming dressings. My problem was they just didn’t work quickly enough for the situations we were in. But—” he gave her a smile; she was watching him with those big blue eyes “—the Internet is a wonderful thing. I contacted a few people who’d led other studies and asked if we could try a combination. I knew the specifics of what I really needed. I needed something so simple that it could be slapped on by anyone—and so quick acting it could stop bleeding within twenty seconds.”
The glance she gave him was filled with admiration. “I heard people talking after you finished. They think you’re sitting on a gold mine.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It’s not about money,” he said quickly.
Amber didn’t even blink, just kept staring at him with that careful gaze. “I know. I got that.”
He picked at his eggs with his fork. “I know that for a lot of people medicine is a business. Britain isn’t like that. The army isn’t like that. Our health care is free—always has been and hopefully always will be. I’m not sure I can exist in a climate where every dressing gets counted and every profit margin looked at.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “You’ve already been approached, haven’t you?”
He bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of how much to tell her. Jack liked being straightforward. And from what little he’d seen of Amber, she seemed to operate that way too. That thing on the stage had just been a wobble—he was sure.
“Right from the beginning we had a contract arranged and a product license developed. It was developed during army time, so they have a part ownership, as do the original creators of the components.” He sighed. “I knew this could happen. As soon as I realized how good it was, I wanted to make sure that it wouldn’t end up being all about the money. That’s not why I did this—it’s not why we did this. And I know it’s good. I know it could save lives around the world, and that’s what I want it to do.”
She tipped her head to the side and studied him for a few seconds. “I like that.” The color had finally returned to her cheeks and she seemed more relaxed.
He gave her a smile. “Your presentation was good too. I know the basics about meningitis but not the rest. I had no idea just how quickly the strains were mutating.”
She pushed her plate away. “Thank you. The presentation was important. I’m the only person here from the DPA this time, and I wanted to be sure that I gave a good impression.” Her fingers were still wrapped around her fork, which she was drumming lightly on the table. “Monitoring infectious diseases is all about good international working.” She let out a little laugh. “Let’s just say that some of our counterparts have been a bit reluctant to share information in the past. In a world of international travel it makes contact tracing interesting.”
“Ouch.” Jack wrinkled his brow. He couldn’t imagine trying to contact trace across continents. It was bad enough on the few occasions he had to make an urgent call to a far-off relative, and that was with all the army resources at his disposal.
He topped up his coffee. “Want anything else to eat?”
She shook her head. “I think I’m done. Thank you for this.”
She kept staring at him, with a hint of a smile around her lips. He waited a few seconds then couldn’t help himself.
“What?”
This was odd. It was the most relaxed he’d been around a woman for a while.
But he liked this woman’s sense of humor. He liked her sassiness. And he was curious about the hint of vulnerability he’d seen on the stage. Not that it had stopped her—she’d gone on to deliver an impressive talk.
And he couldn’t help but be curious about the No Doctor rule she’d obviously decided to follow.
There was a rumble outside and they both glanced out at the darkening and choppy ocean. “I thought Hawaii was supposed to be sunshine, sunshine and more sunshine.” He frowned.
“Not forgetting the killer surf waves,” she added as she kept her eyes on the ocean. “I think you were right. It looks like you brought Scotland’s weather with you.”
He shook his head. “Believe me, you wouldn’t go into the sea in Scotland when it looks like that. Even on a roasting hot day, the sea still feels like ten below zero. On a day like today? You’d be a frozen fish finger.”
She burst out laughing. “A what?”
He wrinkled his brow and drew a tiny rectangle on the table with his finger. “You know, cod or haddock, covered in bread crumbs. For kids. They’re kind of rectangular.”
“Oh...” She nodded. “You mean a fish stick.”
The wrinkles grew even deeper. “A fish stick? What’s a stick about it? It’s a rectangle.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Well, what’s a finger about it?”
He waved his hand in mock exasperation. “You Americans.”
“You Scots,” she countered just as quickly.
“Is this what we’re going to do?” He couldn’t help himself. He lowered his voice. The look she gave him through her thick lashes sent tingles across his skin.
“What do you mean?”
He gestured to the table. “Eat food and argue about words. We’re starting to be a habit.”
She glanced at her watch. “A habit? After less than twenty-four hours? Has to be a new world record.”
He leaned his head on his hand. He really should go back in to the auditorium and listen to some of the other talks. He should be thinking about his career, and be circulating and making contacts the way he’d failed to last night. But somehow, like last night, the only contact he was interested in making was right in front of him.
Three days in Hawaii. That was how long he planned to be here. He could easily lose himself in three days with a woman like Amber Berkeley. She was smart. She was fun. And he could sense the spark between them.
In a way he was glad nothing had happened last night. It meant their flirtation could happily continue and he could find out a little bit more about her. All within the confines of the conference. Whether they attended any more talks or not was entirely a different story.
As for her No Docs rule? Rules were made to be broken. And they didn’t work together—never would. Maybe she could be persuaded to spend some more time together. His stomach gave the weirdest little lurch. He couldn’t believe he’d actually just thought like that.
He’d imagined landing in Hawaii to scorching sun, colorful flowers and interesting birds and wildlife. That was the picture he’d always had in his head.
He’d lived so long in his own little bubble that finding someone to exchange anything other than clinical findings with was odd. But odd in a good way.
He looked her straight in the eye. “You’ve never just met someone and clicked?”
She blinked for a second as if she wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Is this a trick question?”
He shook his head. “What? No.”
Then she tapped her fingers on the table slowly. “Okay, since you found out my name, did you look me up online?” She looked a little anxious.
He shook his head again. He was getting more confused by the second. “No. Why, should I?”
She hesitated for a few seconds then rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “There’s no point hiding it. If you search up my name you’ll find the whole news headlines. A very long time ago, when social media was a mere babe, and I was working as an intern, I met a fellow medic.” She lifted her fingers. “And I clicked.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “You clicked? Oh, no. You’re not getting away with that. What happened to the No Doctors rule?”
She sighed. “Let’s just say this was a huge contribution to the No Doctors rule.”
“Tell me more.”
She gave a slow rueful nod and held up her hands. He couldn’t quite work out the expression on her face; it was a mixture of sad, exasperated and just...tired. “I was duped, I admit it. Or I was charmed.”
“How charmed?” He was definitely curious. Amber didn’t seem like the kind of girl to be either duped or charmed. Maybe there was a reason for the slightly brash exterior?
“Charmed enough to plan a wedding.” She stopped for a second. “My father was a very accomplished surgeon, notorious for only picking the best of the best for his residents. He was also notoriously sexist. There were no women on his team. Charles used me, to get to him.” The words were matter-of-fact, but the way that she said them wasn’t.
“He did?” Jack couldn’t help the wave of disgust that swept over him and the way his heart twisted a little for her. “So what happened?”
She shrugged. “I found out on the morning of the wedding via an overheard conversation in the local hairdresser that he’d been boasting about getting on my father’s team, and worming his way in through me.”
“I thought women were supposed to drink champagne on the morning of their wedding.”
“Oh, I was drinking champagne as they pinned my hair up. I thought about it all the way home. I thought about it all the time I stepped into my dress and little things came into my head, like a giant jigsaw puzzle slotting into place. By the time I reached the church and saw him standing at the top of the aisle, the smug expression on his face told me everything I needed to know. I turned on my heels, picked up my dress and ran.”
“You ran?” He couldn’t actually believe it.
She gave a small nod. “Do an Internet search of Milwaukee Runaway Bride. That’s me.” A long slow breath hissed out from her lips. “Not really something I want to put on my résumé.” Her eyes looked up and met his. She gave a half shrug. “I hate the thought of people reading that about me online. It’s like a permanent stain on my character.”
She put her hands up to her forehead as if it ached, closing her eyes for a second. It was obvious she found this hard.
But she was being honest. He appreciated that. What would he have thought if he’d read this online? Probably, that she was a bit of an idiot, or that she was an attention seeker. Hearing it in person from her was an entirely different experience. He could tell that the whole experience had changed her.
“Regrets?” The words were out before he really thought about them, but Amber quickly shook her head as she lifted it from her hands.
“No. My father never spoke to me again. Nor did Charles. But then again, Charles lost his job the next day.”
“You never spoke to your father again?”
She shook her head again but didn’t look sad. Her words were more assured. “No. I was the ultimate disappointment. But then again, no matter how well I did, I’d always known that.”
He could almost see her physically bristle.
“What kind of surgeon was he?”
“Renal. Top of his game—until the day he died.”
“He wasn’t proud that his daughter was a doctor too?”
“Don’t think he even noticed.” Her answer was short and snappy. “Truth was, I wasn’t a boy. By the time I realized how little respect my father had for me, and my mother, I was done with him anyhow. He died a few years later and it actually set my mother free.”
Jack was a little surprised at her words but at least now he had half an understanding about her No Doctor rule. Of course, it didn’t make sense. But in her head, it did.
Then she took a deep breath and shook her head. “Let’s change the subject.” It was clear there was a lot more to this, but he could tell that she’d shared enough, and he respected her for that.
Her blue eyes met his and she sat up a little straighter in her chair, tilting her head at him. It was like a shock wave. When the anger and resentment left her face, Amber Berkeley was stunning. “You said last night you should probably be schmoozing. You’re almost not in the army now. What’s your plans, soldier?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why, are you offering me a job?”
She straightened her back and narrowed her gaze, imitating some kind of stern interviewer. “Well, let’s see. I know your qualifications. I know you’re from Scotland. I know you appear to be quite bright, and maybe even a little bit of a humanitarian.” She put her elbows on the table and leaned toward him. “Think you could cut it at the DPA?”
He gave a lazy kind of smile. “Not if you call chips fries.”
She sighed and waved her hand. “Oh, well, that’s it. Interview fail. I’m sorry, Dr. Campbell—looks like you have to work on your interpersonal skills.”
He nodded in agreement. In the corner of the room one of the conference staff had a phone in her hand and was talking quietly to one of the waiters and pointing toward their table. After a few seconds she approached. “Dr. Berkeley?”
Amber turned around in surprise. “Yes?”
“Would you mind taking a call from one of your colleagues from the DPA?”
Amber stared down at her bag for a few seconds, and then her face crumpled. “Darn it. I switched off my phone before I came down because I knew I’d be in the auditorium. I hope nothing is wrong.”
She held out her hand for the phone. “This is Dr. Berkeley.” He heard it instantly. The change in her tone, her professional persona slipping back into place. He wondered if he should move to let her take the call in privacy, but she didn’t seem to mind the fact they were still sitting together.
“Hi, Warren. Yes. No. Really?”
He watched as he could see her concentrating. After a few seconds she fumbled around in her bag. Jack reached into his fatigues and pulled out his pocketbook and pen, pushing them across the table toward her. She nodded gratefully as she flicked open the book and started to scribble. “Yip, what’s the name? Oh...how awful. Which strain? Yes. Do you have a contact at the local agency? At the admitting hospital? Okay. Can Drew give me a lab contact I can work with? I might have more experience at identifying the strain. Sure, no problem.” She glanced outside at the darkening sky. “No.” She gave a little smile, then met his gaze. “Things have been a little different than expected. Let me get on this.” She clicked the phone and sighed as she set it down on the table.
“Something wrong?”
She nodded. “A new unidentified strain of meningitis. One affected teenager. A request for assistance has been made to the DPA and since I’m here...”
She let her voice tail off. Jack spoke carefully. “It’s your specialty area—of course they should call you.”
She nodded. “I know. I’m lucky it’s meningitis. In the DPA you have to do a bit of everything. I’ve been in Africa looking at polio and sleeping sickness, Chicago, when we thought we might have a smallpox outbreak, and Washington and Texas for flu.” She gave a resigned kind of smile. “We get all over.” She stared over toward one of the windows. “Let’s just hope it’s only one case. I’m here by myself. If there’s any more and it turns into an outbreak, contact tracing could be a nightmare.”
It was all he needed to hear and he made his mind up instantly. Jack was never going to schmooze his way around this conference trying to find a suitable job. No matter how much his head told him he should, it just wasn’t in him to do it. He couldn’t do it. He was far more interested in finding out more about the woman sitting opposite him. It had been so long since he’d felt like this. She was sparking his interest in so many ways—so many ways that he hadn’t acknowledged in such a long time. He stood up. “Okay, then, let’s go.”
Amber’s eyes widened. “What?”
He shrugged. “No point in you going alone. And I guess you could always do with another pair of hands even though it’s not my specialty. If it turns into more than one case, you’ll need help. I can be that help. Why don’t you change, I’ll grab a few things from my room and I’ll meet you back down here in ten minutes?”
Amber looked a bit lost for words. She waved her hand toward the doors to the foyer. “But don’t you have to work the room, find a job?”
“I just flunked my last interview.” He gave her a wink. “I’ve been told I need to work on my people skills. No time like the present to start.”
She stood up and picked up her bag. “Are you sure about this?”
He gave the briefest of nods. “Let’s face it. You’re the most interesting person I’ve met here. Better stick around.”
He could swear that was relief on her face. “Okay, then, Dr. Campbell. I’ll meet you in ten.”
* * *
She’d never changed so quickly—just kicked off her heels and let her expensive suit crumple across a chair. She pulled on a pair of stretchy dark trousers, a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of flats. Because her wardrobe was mainly formal clothes for the conference—none of which she wanted to wear to the local hospital—she grabbed her least formal jacket, a khaki military-style one. She shook her head as she pulled it on. At this rate, she and Jack would look like a matching pair.
She dumped her purse and stuffed her wallet, phone and notebook into a small backpack. She’d learned over the years to travel lightly.
She still couldn’t believe he’d volunteered to come with her but she was secretly pleased. It didn’t matter that she was confident in her practice. It didn’t matter that she’d handled contact tracing for meningitis on numerous occasions. This was the first time she’d actually represented the DPA on her own. And it made her a tiny bit nervous. But from what little she knew of Jack Campbell, she hoped he would have her back.
He was already waiting as she walked back out to the main foyer. It was busier than she’d expected. Filled with anxious faces. Jack was standing among some other people.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“Look at that rain.”
“What did they say about a weather warning?”
“I’ve never seen black clouds like that before. What happened to the sun?”
Jack was still wearing his fatigues; for the second time she tried not to notice how well they suited him. He smiled as he noticed her similar garb. “Are we ready to get started? I think we should move. Something seems to be happening.”
She nodded. “We need to go to the Hawaii Outbreak Center and Lahuna State Hospital.”
They walked across the foyer and out to the hotel main entrance. Both of the suited doormen were standing inside. They looked at her in surprise. “What’s your destination?”
Almost immediately the sharp wind whipped her ponytail around her face and she had to brace her feet to the ground. She glanced around as her jacket and shirt buffeted against her. Rain thudded all around her, bouncing off the ground. The streets were almost empty and she could feel the stinging sand on her cheeks picked up from the beach across the road. All of the straw beach umbrellas had tipped over and were rolling precariously around. No one seemed keen on rescuing them.
Hawaii had never looked like this in any of the photographs she’d seen.
The doorman looked down at the deserted street. When she’d arrived the day before it had been packed with cars and taxis.
He gave a wave. “Come back inside and I’ll call for a car. It may take a while. We’ve just had a six-hour emergency hurricane warning. The hotel is just about to make an announcement. All residents are going to be asked to stay inside. Could your journey wait? It’s unlikely flights will be taking off anytime soon.”
“What?”
“What?”
Jack’s voice echoed her own. A wave of panic came over her. Did this mean she couldn’t get to her patient?
She shook her head. The doorman was obviously assuming the only place people would try to get to right now was the airport. “I’m a doctor. I have to go to the Hawaii Outbreak Center then Lahuna State Hospital. I have to consult on a meningitis case.”
The doorman gave her a solemn nod and didn’t try to put her off any further. “Give me five minutes. I can get my brother-in-law to pick you up.” He drew in a deep breath as he picked up a phone at his desk and dialed the number. “You might have to be prepared to lock down wherever you reach. Once we’re on hurricane alert everyone is instructed to stay safe.”
Jack stepped forward. “I knew that the weather was looking bad, but when did they issue the hurricane warning?”
“Just in the last ten minutes. It seems to have picked up force somewhere in the mid Pacific. Apparently the hurricane has taken an unexpected sharp turn. We usually have more time to prepare. All hotels have been contacted and the news stations are broadcasting instructions.”
“Is it normal to be so late letting people know?”
The doorman shook his head. “We usually have between thirty-six hours and twenty-four hours to prepare. We have statewide plans for hurricanes, but the truth is, Hawaii has only been affected by four hurricanes in the last sixty years. Tropical storms? Oh, they’re much more common.”
Jack met her worried gaze. She’d been in crisis situations before, but usually for some kind of an infectious disease—not for a natural disaster. It was almost as if he could sense her fleeting second of panic. He put his hand at the back of her waist and nodded toward the doorman. “Thank you so much for doing this. We’re only going out because we have to and we’ll be happy to lock down wherever appropriate.”
Ten minutes later a taxicab appeared. They watched as a few large gusts buffeted it from side to side on the road. The doorman handed them a card with numbers. “We’ll be keeping an inventory of guests in the hotel as we do the lockdown. I’ve noted where you’re going and here’s some contact numbers if you need them. Good luck.”
They climbed quickly into the back of the cab and Amber leaned forward to give the driver instructions. The roof of the hotel pickup point rattled above them. The driver listened to her then rapidly shook his head, gesturing toward the empty streets. “No. Pick one or the other. Which is the most important? We don’t have enough time to take you to both.”
Amber blew out a breath and turned to face Jack. “If the phones are still functioning I could call the Outbreak Center. It’s more important to be where the patient and lab are, particularly if I want to try and identify the strain.”
She didn’t mind batting off him. It was always useful to throw ideas back and forward with another doctor and he had a completely different kind of experience from her—one that was more likely to be suited to this.
He nodded seriously as his eyes took in the weather around him. “Sounds like a plan.”
She leaned forward to the driver. “Can you get us to Lahuna State Hospital?”
The driver nodded. “It’s near the city center. We should get there soon.”
The cab wove through the streets and high-rise buildings. There were a few people practically being carried along by the wind as they rushed to get places. Some stores were already closed, shutters down and all street wares brought back inside.
A large white building with dark windows emerged through the rain. The main doors and ambulance bay had their doors closed, with security staff visible through the glass. They unlocked the door as Jack and Amber jumped from the cab.
“We’ve had to close the automatic doors,” one told her. “The wind is just too strong and a member of the public has already been injured.”
Amber gave him a grateful smile as he locked the door behind them. “Can you direct me to Infectious Diseases? I’ve been called about a patient.”
“Third floor. Elevators at the end of the corridor. Take a right when you get out.”
The hospital was eerily quiet, the main foyer deserted as they made their way through. But as they reached the corridor in the heart of the hospital they could see uniformed staff swiftly moving patients and talking in hushed, urgent voices. “I wonder if the windows will be okay?” said Jack thoughtfully as they reached the elevators.
“What?” She pressed the button to call the elevator.
“The windows.” Jack looked around him even though there were no windows nearby. “A place like this? It must have around, what—three hundred windows? How on earth do you police that in the middle of a hurricane?”
Amber blinked. She hadn’t even thought about anything like that at all. “The hotel too. Do you think they’ll tell people to leave their rooms?”
The doors slid open. “They must all have disaster plans. Won’t they just take everyone to a central point in a building, somewhere they can hunker down?”
He could almost read her mind. Both of them had rooms at the hotel that they’d literally just abandoned with no thought to the impending hurricane. If they’d had a bit more warning she might have closed her curtains and stashed her computer and valuables somewhere safer. Who knew what they would return to later?
They stepped inside and she pressed the button for the third floor. It only took a few moments to reach there and the doors to the infectious disease unit. Amber reached for the scrub on the wall outside before she entered, rubbing it over her hands.
She could already see through the glass that the unit looked in chaos.
She turned to face Jack before she pressed the entrance buzzer. “Ready?”
She felt a tiny glimmer of trepidation. She was it. She was the sole representative for the DPA. Was she asking him, or herself?
But Jack didn’t hesitate for a second. “Absolutely. Lead the way.”
CHAPTER THREE (#u1e7bdafe-6a39-5204-bdde-eb590586f72b)
FROM THE SECOND she walked into the unit she was in complete control. He couldn’t help but be completely impressed. Whatever the little waver was he’d glimpsed outside, it seemed to have disappeared. There were actually two infected patients. It seemed that they’d been brought in only a few hours apart. Was that the start of an epidemic?
Amber took it in her stride and reviewed them—Zane and Aaron, both eighteen, who were clearly very sick. Then she phoned the Hawaii Outbreak Center and liaised with their staff, and then asked for some instructions to find the lab.
Her face was a little paler as they headed to the stairs. “I need to find out what strain of meningitis this is. These kids have got sick really quickly.”
The lab was down in the bowels of the hospital and they had to change into white lab coats and disposable gloves before entering. It was a modern lab, with traditionally white walls, an array of machinery and computers and wide work benches. But somehow it wasn’t quite as busy as he might have expected.
“Where is everyone?” he murmured.
Amber shook her head as they walked through. “Maybe they’ve sent some staff home because of the hurricane warning.”
The head of the lab was an older man, tall but thick and heavyset; he already knew they were on their way and walked over with his hand outstretched. “Mamo Akano. I take it you’re my meningitis doctor?”
Amber nodded her head. “Amber Berkeley from the Disease Prevention Agency. Any further forward in identifying the strain?”
Mamo had deep furrows in his brow. “Maybe. The DPA just sent me some files over for you to consider. Come over here. I’ve opened them on the computer next to the microscope.”
Amber hurried over and pulled up a stool next to the microscope. She glanced over her shoulder toward Jack. “Ready for this?”
It was the first time since he’d got here that Jack had felt out of his depth. This wasn’t his forte. But he was always willing to learn. He gave a nod and pulled up a stool. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
* * *
Three hours later her neck ached and her brain was fried. She’d spoken to her contacts at the Hawaii Outbreak Center, and her colleagues in Chicago. Their strain of meningitis seemed to be unique. It was definitely bacterial meningitis. The cerebral spinal fluid collected from both boys had been cloudy. But the gram stains hadn’t given them the information that they needed. There was nothing like it on file—which was not entirely unusual, but just made things more difficult. It was closest to a previously identified strain of meningitis W135, but seemed to have mutated slightly. “What do we do now?” asked Jack.
Mamo sighed. He’d been by their side the whole time. “In theory, now we wait. But we can’t really do that.”
Jack frowned. “What do you mean?”
Amber gave a slow nod. “Mamo will need to see what the most effective antibiotic for treating this strain is. But sometimes we don’t know that for up to forty-eight hours—even seventy-two hours. We can’t wait that long. Both of these patients are too sick. I need to try and treat them now.”
Pieces clicked into place in Jack’s brain. “So, you guess?”
“Yip,” said Mamo, “Amber has to guess.” His voice didn’t sound happy.
Amber straightened up. Her voice was confident and her manner methodical. “Zane was already started on a broad-spectrum antibiotic—Penicillin G—when he was admitted. But it already looks like it hasn’t started working. Neither of these boys was immunized. So, we immunize against Men W, and we treat them with something more specific—more than likely chloramphenicol—and hope the strain’s not mutated too much.” She pointed to the phone. “Let me make one more phone call. Then I’ll go back up to Infectious Diseases to speak to the consultant. Then...” She turned to face Jack. “Then we’re on a race against time. We need to contact trace. If there are children involved they may already have been immunized against meningitis W. But because this strain is slightly mutated, I still want to give them antibiotics. I can’t take any chances with this.”
“Meningitis W is one of the most dangerous strains, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “That’s why it was included in the immunization schedule in lots of countries only a few years ago. These kids really should have had this vaccine. But not everyone agrees with vaccination. Not everyone takes their kids for them, even though they can get them for free.” She shook her head and turned to Mamo. “I need supplies. Where can I get oral supplies of antibiotics?”
Jack couldn’t help but be impressed. She was on fire. This was her specialty and it was clear she knew the subject matter well.
Mamo walked over to another phone. “I’ll talk to the hospital pharmacy. It’s emergency circumstances—in more ways than one. Being part of the DPA will give you visiting physician credentials. You’ll be able to get what you need.”
She nodded again in grateful thanks. Jack got that. He was a medic too and part of the army. And, although he was confident in his abilities and credentials, it didn’t matter where you were in the world—most countries had their own conditions and registrations for being a doctor. The US had different regulations for each state, so sometimes it made things difficult.
She nodded and laid her hand on Mamo’s arm as he waited for someone to answer the phone. “Thank you,” she acknowledged. He nodded as they made their way back out of the lab and to the elevators.
She leaned against the wall as the elevator ascended. A few strands of her dark pink-tipped hair had fallen around her face and shoulders, and he could practically see the tension across her shoulders and neck.
He leaned forward and touched the end of one of her strands of hair. “I never asked last night. Why pink?”
She blinked for a second as if her mind was racing with a million different thoughts, then glanced sideways as she realized he was touching her hair. “Why not?” she replied simply.
There was something about the expression on her face that made him suck in his breath. She appeared calm and methodical. He was seeing Amber Berkeley at her best.
He was so used to being in charge. But here? Here, he was just Jack Campbell. This wasn’t a trauma situation. Here, he had to let the person with the most experience lead the case. And that was hard for him. “What can I do?”
He had to ask. He wanted to help. He’d help any colleague who needed it—whether it was his specialty area or not. The army had made him adaptable in more ways than one.
She fixed him with her steady blue eyes and gave him clear instructions. “I need to get histories. I need to find out where these boys have been in the last few days in detail. I need to know every contact. I need names, addresses, dates of birth—contact details if they have them.”
Jack licked his lips and asked the first question that had danced into his brain. “And if they are too sick to tell us?”
She grimaced. “Then we ask their family. Their friends. Whoever admitted them. This is a potentially deadly strain. We can’t wait. There isn’t time.” She shook her head. “I don’t even want to think about what doing this in the middle of a hurricane means.”
He gave a swift nod and reached over to give her arm a squeeze. “I can do detailed histories. I haven’t done any for a while, but I still remember how. Let’s split it. You take one, I’ll take the other and then we can check if there’s any crossover.”
She looked down at his hand on her arm and gave a weary kind of smile. “Thank you for this, Jack. You didn’t have to offer, but I’m glad you did. Usually I’m part of a team. So outside help is appreciated.”
“You okay?”
She nodded. “The meningitis stuff? I can do it in my sleep. The hurricane stuff?” She shook her head. “I don’t have a single clue. I feel completely thrown in at the deep end.”
She gave a smile as the elevator doors slid open again. “Remember your first shift as a resident when it seemed like everyone on the ward was going to die simultaneously?”
He let out a wry laugh. Everyone felt like that their first day on the ward. “Oh, yeah.”
“It feels a bit like that all over again.”
He gave her a smile. “Well, think of me as your backup plan. You lead, I follow. Brief me. What do I need to know?”
She glanced over the notes she had. “Okay, these two kids were both part of a surf club. Zane became sick first, exhibiting some of the normal meningitis signs—high temperature, fever, signs of an early chest infection and, a few hours later, some confusion.”
“So, there are at least a few hours between the disease progression in these kids?”
She gave a slow nod. “They were worried they might have to sedate Zane, but the lumbar-puncture procedure went smoothly and they started him on IV antibiotics straightaway.”
“And the second kid?”
“Aaron came in a few hours after Zane with symptoms of shock. One of the other young guys had gone to see why he hadn’t joined them and called 911 when he found him still in bed. The ER physician connected the cases pretty quickly. Neither of them had been vaccinated against Men W, and both had been bunking down at one of the local student residences.”
Jack let out a slow breath. “Darn it. Close contacts?”
She nodded. “Close contacts. We need names and to find the rest of the kids who were in that residence.”
“What else should I be looking for with close contacts?” He realized he was firing questions at her but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to make sure he covered everything.
“The rules are generally people who’ve slept under the same roof, nursery or childcare contacts, and anyone they’ve shared saliva or food with. Dependent on age, they all need a two-day course of rifampicin.”
Jack pulled a face. “Shared saliva with? You mean anyone they’ve kissed? For two teenage boys at a surf school we might have our work cut out. How far back do we need to go?”
“Seven days from first symptoms.”
“Let’s hope the surf school kept good records, then, and let’s hope the boys know who they kissed.”
The lights around them flickered and they both froze. “Please don’t let us lose power,” said Amber quietly. “This could be a disaster.”
Jack sucked in a breath. He could tell the thought of the hurricane was making her nervous. Truth was, it made him slightly nervous too. But he had to believe that the authorities would have plans in place to take care of things. They couldn’t control the weather. They also couldn’t control time, and it was rapidly slipping away from them. “We have two cases. We can contact trace for these two cases and try and get antibiotics to anyone we think could be affected. Hopefully any younger kids will already be immunized.”
Amber pulled a face. “Usually we would spend a few hours discussing this with the local outbreak center and the DPA. The impending hurricane doesn’t help. What if we can’t get to the people that need antibiotics? We can’t ask people to leave their homes as a hurricane is about to hit. And who knows how long it will last?” She shook her head.
“It’s a disaster,” he said simply.
“Just pray it isn’t an epidemic,” she said swiftly. “Then it really would be a disaster.”
* * *
By the time they reached the infectious disease unit again it was in chaos. Bed mattresses had been piled against the windows. The curtains around the beds had been taken down and also stretched across the windows with large Xs taped on the glass. A few of the patients who’d been there earlier had been moved out, but Zane and Aaron were still attached to all their monitors.
There was only one adult walking between both beds. Amber and Jack walked over to meet him. “I’m Amber Berkeley with the Disease Prevention Agency. Are you Zane or Aaron’s parent?”
He shook his head. “Ty Manners from the surf school. They’ve both been with me for the last ten days. I can’t believe they’re both sick.”
He glanced toward the covered windows and put his hands on his hips. It was clear he was stressed. “Everything has just happened at once. I should be down at the surf school making it ready—and sorting out the other kids.”
Jack saw Amber word her question carefully. “Ty, I’m sure you’re worried about all the kids in your care, and the surf school. Do you have any records? Do all the kids that go to the surf school stay in the same place? We really need to trace all the contacts that Zane and Aaron have had for the last seven days. It’s really important we find out if other people have been immunized, and that we get some antibiotics to them if appropriate.”
“It’s definitely meningitis?”
Amber nodded. “It is. Both of their lumbar punctures were positive. And it’s important that we treat things as quickly as possible. We don’t want anyone else to get sick.”
One of the nurses came and stood at Amber’s shoulder with a clipboard in hand. “I’ve contacted both sets of parents. Zane’s mother stays on Oahu. There’s no way she can get here with the imminent hurricane weather but we’re keeping her as up to date as we can. Aaron’s mother and father live just outside Hilo. That’s a two-hour drive to Kailua Kona. State police have told them not to leave their home but I have a horrible feeling they won’t listen.”
Amber walked over to the window and peeled back a tiny corner of the curtain. “Oh, my,” she breathed as she looked outside.
The wind had picked up even more. Enormously tall palm trees were bending in the wind like drinking straws. Public trash cans were rolling down the street like empty soda cans. She watched as an awning at the café opposite was torn away before her eyes by the force of the wind and the red and white material disappeared like a kite being ripped from its string.
It made her heart beat a little faster. She turned to face the nurse. “How soon is the hurricane due to hit?”
The nurse glanced at her watch, then over to a TV screen they had in the corner of the unit. “In about an hour or two. It won’t just be the winds. It will be the rain too. It’s already started but this is nothing. Once it really hits we usually have floods. No one should be out there.”
This was nothing? The rain she’d witnessed as they’d left the hotel had been bad enough. Even with the wipers at maximum their driver had barely been able to see out of the windscreen.
Amber spoke slowly. “But tell that to a parent that thinks their child is at risk.” She closed her eyes for a second. “I wish I’d got a chance to speak to them. Maybe I could have played things down. Given them enough reassurance to wait.”
Jack’s voice was low. “But is that actually true? You suspect that this is an unknown strain of meningitis. The first antibiotics tried don’t seem to hit the mark. Now it’s up to the second. Are these boys really safe?”
Amber blinked back the tears threatening to appear in her eyes. “No,” she said quietly. “Particularly when we don’t know if our treatment is the right one. There’s still a chance they could die—or have lifelong aftereffects.”
She could see Jack’s brain was trying to make sense of this all. His natural instinct as an army doc would be to prioritize. For a second there was a flash of something in his face. Something that made her step back. He looked as if he was trying to suppress his urge to take over. It was only the briefest of glances. But it brought back a surge of old emotions that she constantly felt around her father—as if she wasn’t good enough for this. As if she couldn’t possibly be good enough and someone like Jack, or her father, would have to step in and take over.
Her skin prickled. She hated that. Hated associating someone she’d just met with her father.
It wouldn’t be the first time. She’d often met other doctors—particularly surgeons—who had the same old-fashioned attitudes and opinions. People who wanted to be in charge of everything—including her. These were the people she avoided wherever possible. Was Jack one of them?
Even that tiny flash of recognition in her brain would usually be enough to make her turn in the other direction. But in the circumstances, that was hardly possible.
The nurse interrupted her thoughts. “We’re actually going to try and move these guys. They’ve done that in some of the other wards. Most of the corridors and central areas are full—and we have a lot of equipment we need to take. Someone is preparing a space for us down in the basement.”
Jack’s frown deepened. “Okay. We could help here. We should prioritize. Should we really be taking patient histories for close contacts right now when we might have no hope of reaching any of these people in the next few hours?”
Anger flared in her and Amber swallowed. She knew he was right. But she also knew how sick people could become with meningitis. She spoke in a low voice. “Jack, you offered to help. Not to take over. This is my specialty area, not yours. Of course I know this might be futile. But up until a few hours ago the hurricane wasn’t heading in this direction. It might still turn. The prediction could be wrong.”
Jack held his hands out. “Does it feel wrong to you right now?”
She held her nerve. She wouldn’t let him tell her how to do her job. “Maybe not. But what if something happens to one of these guys? This might not be an epidemic yet—but it could be. It has the potential. And we have two young guys who’ve become really sick in only a few hours. What if something happens to one, or both, of them, and we’ve lost the opportunity to find their close contacts? What if we leave those people at risk? We also know this strain is slightly different. This could be the start of something.” She pressed her hand on her heart. “I can’t let the threat of a hurricane stop me from doing my job to the best of my ability. I have to take the histories. I have to collect the antibiotics and I have to try and talk to as many people as I can.” She took a deep breath and her voice gave a little shake. “If the phone lines go down after this we could be in trouble. People might live near to medical centers. We can adapt. We could arrange for them to collect what they need from there.”
His hands were on his hips. For a second she wondered if he was going to argue with her. Maybe bringing him here hadn’t been a good idea after all. What did she really know about Jack Campbell? The army were used to being in the thick of things; maybe he was struggling with a back-seat role?
“I don’t have time to fight with you about this, Jack. What are you going to be, a hindrance or a help?”
She could tell he was annoyed but she didn’t have time to care. He had to do it her way, or no way.
There was a pause, and then he let out a sigh and gave the briefest shake of his head. “Let’s be quick.”
He grabbed a pile of paperwork and walked over to Aaron’s bed. There was no chance of Aaron talking. He was ventilated with the briefest hint of a purpuric rash on his tanned skin. The new antibiotics were feeding into an IV line. If they were going to make a difference they would have to start working quickly.
Jack looked up at Ty. “We’re going to have to ask you questions because you’ve spent the last few days with these guys.”
Ty gave a nervous nod. “Can’t go anywhere anyhow. What do you need to know?”
Amber started firing questions at him. “Where did they sleep? How many other people are there? Do you have names, ages and contact details? Have any left in the last few days? How many are still there? How many people work at the hostel and at the surf school? What have they been doing at nights?”
Once she started she didn’t stop. Every now and then Jack quickly interrupted with the words “And what about Aaron?” ensuring that Ty was answering for both teenagers.
It seemed that there were around twenty people at the surf school. Things were pretty informal. Most had traveled to get there—some from the other Hawaiian islands. The people who worked there were all local. Timescales were important. Two teenagers had traveled back to other states in the USA yesterday, and a third had left for New Zealand in the early hours of this morning.
While all this was going on, hospital staff worked around them, attaching the two boys to portable ventilators that could be pushed out into the corridor with them; oxygen cylinders were attached to the sides of the bed and a portable emergency trolley was positioned near to the door.
One of the hospital administrators appeared and spoke in a low voice. “The patients in Surgical have been moved. The hospital front entrance has been completely cleared.” Of course, it was covered in glass. “Medical CCU is the safest. It’s right in the middle of the building with no windows, but we’ve already moved the sickest of our elderly patients in there. Pediatrics have been moved down to the theaters.”
“Is the basement ready? Do you have the equipment that will be needed?” asked Jack. Transporting these patients would take more than the few nurses that were left in the department.
The administrator looked a little worried. “The staff room down at the laboratory has been cleared in the basement. The corridor down there is one of the most shielded in the building.” The lights flickered around them again.
“As long as we don’t have a power cut,” said Jack warily.
“Let’s go,” said the head nurse smartly as the windows started to rattle around them. “I don’t think it’s safe to wait. We’ve packed up the equipment that we need.”
She gestured to the nurses who were left. “You two with Zane.” She looked at Amber. “You go with him too.”
“Myself, Ty and Dr. Campbell will take Aaron down in the other elevator.”
There was only one hospital orderly to assist—the rest obviously deployed to other parts of the building. How on earth did you lock down a hospital and keep all patients safe from a hurricane outside? She didn’t even want to think about it.
They wheeled the bed out to the elevator, along with the portable ventilator, tanks and emergency trolley. The progress was slow; it was almost like a juggling act getting all the equipment they needed inside the elevator.
A few minutes later they arrived in the basement. This time she was familiar with the surroundings and backed out of the elevator first, pulling the bed with her. The lab staff must have been warned because a room to the right had been cleared. It looked as if it had been the large staff room, as a pile of chairs and large table were at the bottom of the corridor. The nurse guided the bed into the space and they quickly connected monitors to plug points and checked the ventilator was working properly.
It was weird. Amber actually liked being back in a hospital environment—even though this was a makeshift one. It always reminded her of why she did this job. Sometimes being stuck in an office at the DPA was tough. Only communicating with patients and fellow doctors by phone and email wasn’t really how she preferred to work. She liked this. She liked being in the thick of things. She liked to see the patients, talk to them, be on hand when treatments were being tried and tested. A bit more like the role Jack had just done...
There was a weird sound from the corridor. The nurse looked up and frowned as she fiddled with some cables. “Go and check that, will you?”
The lights flickered again as Amber walked swiftly down the corridor. She automatically looked over her shoulder. It was like being in an old-style horror movie—never her favorite kind of entertainment.
The metal doors of both elevators were still closed. Shouldn’t Jack be here by now with Aaron?
The lights flickered once more then went out completely.
Black. Everywhere.
She automatically sucked in a breath and held it.
“Darn it,” came the shout from further down the corridor, followed by the flickering of some kind of light. Must be from a phone.
“You okay, Amber?” shouted the nurse. “We have a backup generator. It should kick in any second.”
Something flooded into her brain. Keeping her hand on the wall, she walked quickly back to the room she’d just come from. The nurse had her phone in her hand and was using the light from it.
“Are the ventilators still working? Do we need to bag him?”
Even though it was dark, Amber moved to the bed, watching for the rise and fall of Zane’s chest. The nurse was at the other side. She shook her head. “We should have three hours’ worth of battery power. Honestly, the backup generator should kick in. Give it a few minutes.”
There was a large thump from the corridor and some muffled voices shouting.
“Oh, no,” said the nurse.
“What?” asked Amber.
“The elevator. I think your colleague’s stuck in the elevator with Aaron.”
Amber’s heart started to thud in her chest. She lifted her hands from the bed. “Okay, you’re okay here? I can go?”
The nurse nodded. Amber pulled her own mobile from her pocket and flicked the switch on as she walked back down the corridor.
The shouts were getting louder. “Jack? Are you okay?”
“Amber? Is that you? The elevator’s jammed and the emergency phone isn’t working!”
Amber ran over to the doors. It was ridiculous. She tried to pull them apart with her hands but it was obviously no use.
Mamo appeared from the lab. “Problems?” He shook his head. “Can’t do much without power down here.”
She pointed to the doors. “We’ve got one of the kids with meningitis attached to a portable ventilator in there.”
Jack shouted from inside. “Is there anything outside you could use to try and pry the doors apart? I can try from in here, but I think I need you helping on the outside.”
There was a strange sound from inside. Almost a whimpering. Oh, no. The nurse inside must be freaking out. Being trapped inside a black box wouldn’t be most people’s idea of a normal working day.
“Hold on.” Amber held her phone up and tried to scan the corridor around them.
Something seemed to flick in Mamo’s head. “Over here. I think there’s an emergency fire ax next to one of the exits. Maybe we could use that.”
Sure enough, on one of the walls there was an ax mounted in a red box behind a breakable panel. Mamo pulled his lab coat over his fist and broke the glass, grabbing hold of the ax.
“Give us a minute, Jack,” Amber shouted. “Mamo is trying to pry the doors from this side.” Something flashed through her brain. “Where’s Ty?”
The reply was slightly muffled. “He stayed upstairs to make a few calls to the surf school. He wanted to check all the kids had been taken to an evacuation center.”
Prying the doors apart was more difficult than it looked. Mamo put the edge of the ax into the gap at the doors and tried to turn it sideways to widen the gap. After a few minutes he turned to Amber. “You keep holding it,” he said gruffly as he slid his hands and foot into the space that was only a few inches apart.
Amber kept trying to turn the head of the ax wider, while keeping it in the space. Her shoulder muscles ached. Her jaw was tight. From the other side she could see a flash of light. The nurse inside must be using her phone. White knuckles appeared on the inside of the door. She could hear the grunts and groans from Jack. “Grrr...”
After a couple of minutes the doors started to release a little further; both Mamo and Jack stuck their shoulders and body weight in the doors, using their feet to push the opposite door apart.
The elevator wasn’t completely aligned with the floor—probably the reason they’d had so much difficulty prizing the doors apart.
The nurse looked numb. Amber ducked inside and grabbed the end of the bed. “You get the ventilator,” she said to the nurse. “There will be a bit of a bump as we push out.”
Mamo and Jack stayed at their doors, holding them back with their body weight as they guided the bed through between them. The nurse jerked as the bed thudded the few inches to the floor, then steered the portable ventilator alongside. The lights flickered in the corridor again.
“Got everything?” checked Mamo. Jack nodded as he pulled out the emergency trolley and let it roll across the floor. The two of them glanced at each other, then gave a nod and both jumped. The doors slid back into place swiftly just as the lights flickered back on in the basement.
“Thank goodness,” breathed Amber.
Mamo gave a nod of acknowledgment as he glanced at Aaron in the bed. “Everyone okay? I need to go back to the lab and check the machines.”
Amber, Jack and the nurse pushed Aaron into the room in the basement. It only took ten minutes to make sure he was safely set up alongside Zane and that the power supply was working as it should be. The IV infusions with fluids and antibiotics stopped pinging, as did the cardiac monitor and ventilator.
“We’re good.” The nurse nodded. “I’ve phoned one of the ICU doctors and they’re going to base themselves downstairs with us.” She gave a rueful smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve told them to take the stairs.”
Amber walked back over to where she’d abandoned her paperwork. She had to get back on task. Time was ticking.
This was her responsibility and she was in charge. “Jack, how do you feel about making some calls? Let’s do the international ones first. I can give you numbers for the public health agencies in the countries our patients are heading to. Following the patients up will be their responsibility.”
Jack gave a nod. That tiny little feeling she’d had that he might want to take over seemed to flutter away. “Yeah, I’m not sure how long our phone lines will work. Let’s try and do these as quickly as possible. Then we could look at the people who’ve returned to any of the surrounding islands. See if we can get someone local to prescribe and supply the antibiotics.”
She was pleased. He was methodical and logical. Definitely what she needed right now. It was odd to think that last night she’d fallen asleep next to a man she barely knew and now she was working with him in a virtual blackout.
One of the nurses gestured to them. “There’s an office over there. Why don’t you go and try the phones?” She pulled her watch from her pocket. “According to this, we have about ten minutes before the hurricane hits.”
It was like a chill rushing over her body. Should she be scared? Should she actually be terrified? She’d faced plenty of disease disasters, but never a natural one like this. “What happens next? What happens to everyone out there?” she asked the nurse.
“They’ve moved most of the tourists from the beach-front hotels into emergency shelters. Hawaii has a hurricane preparedness guide. Unfortunately we’ve not had the warning time that would normally be in place. Things have changed quickly.”
There was a tiny wave of panic. “Is there anything else I should know about a hurricane?” She hated the fact her voice sounded high-pitched.
“There’s a standard set of instructions.” One of the nurses pulled a leaflet from her bag.
Stay indoors away from windows, skylights and glass doors.
Secure and brace exterior doors. Store as much water as you can.
Close interior doors and take refuge in a small interior room, like a closet or hallway, on the lowest level of your home.
Jack pulled a face. “How do these apply to a hospital?”
The nurse gave a nod. “We’ve moved all the patients away from windows, mostly to the central corridors, and we’ve evacuated the top floor and ground floor. We’re filling the baths and sinks with water to keep the toilets flushing, but the kitchen says it has ample supplies of drinking water.” She closed her eyes for a second. “After that—we pray. This hospital has been standing for thirty years. We’ve had a few hurricanes in that time. We just hope that it will hold together again.”
Amber gulped. “What about the staff? Do you all have to stay?”
She wasn’t thinking about herself. She was thinking about all the local staff that might have families of their own close by to worry about. With the emergency warning coming so late, most of them might not have had time to make plans.
The nurse held out her hands. “We’ll manage. The hospital has an emergency plan. Extra staff get called in as relief. They help transfer the patients and stock the ER. Some of the rest of the staff had to go home to sort out family issues. I came in early to let my friend go home to her disabled mother.” She pointed at the nurse dealing with Aaron. “Nessa only started here a few weeks ago. Her family are on Oahu. She wouldn’t have time to get there, so decided just to lock down here where she could be useful.”
She gave an anxious glance between Amber and Jack. “No matter what your experience, after the hurricane hits, we’ll need doctors. Probably more than you know.”
Jack gave the briefest of nods. His face was serious, but he didn’t seem intimidated at all. “I’d rather be working than holed up in the hotel. Let us sort out what we can about these meningitis cases. After that, put me where you need me.”
The nurse gave a nod. “I’ll phone up to the ER and let them know we might have some additional help.” Her eyebrows rose a little in question. “What will I tell them?”
His voice was firm. “Tell them I’m an army doc and can deal with whatever they need.” His eyes met Amber. “Dr. Berkeley works for the DPA. She’ll help out where she can.”
“Great.” The nurse picked up the phone and turned her back on them.
Amber gulped. For infectious diseases she was fine. But she wasn’t quite as confident as Jack at being thrown in at the deep end. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel capable. She would always help out in an emergency. She wasn’t sure how qualified or equipped she’d be to deal with things. She’d never really worked in an ER setting. She’d been part of team expeditions for the DPA. But she’d never been in charge. Never had the full responsibility herself. But those expeditions had been more coordinated. She’d always ended up working in pre-ready emergency clinics or vaccination hubs.
Her director had already mentioned he thought she was ready to try her hand as a team leader on a field mission to further her experience. But this was entirely different—totally out with her normal expertise. It was almost as if Jack sensed something from her. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”
Then he did something completely unexpected. He turned her toward him and lowered his forehead onto hers. It was a gesture of security. Of solidarity. Of reassurance.
Warmth spread through her. She looked up and met his gaze. His dark brown eyes were fixed on hers. They were genuine and steady.
She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, so many thoughts flooding into her mind. Her brain was such a mess. All she could concentrate on was the feel of his hands on the tops of her arms and the gentle way his forehead pressed against hers. His warm breath danced across her skin. Her gaze was naturally lowered and she could see the rise and fall of his chest.
He was a doctor. The type of guy she’d spent most of her life trying to avoid any romantic entanglements with. And this was crazy. She’d already seen a flash of something in him that reminded her of the focused way her father used to be.
So, if she already had alarm bells flashing in her head, why wasn’t she running for the hills? She could pretend it was the hurricane. That the only reason she wasn’t moving was because she was stuck here.
But that wasn’t what was anchoring her feet firmly to the ground.
That wasn’t what was letting the heat from the palms of his hands slowly permeate through her jacket and trickle its way through her body. Her last few boyfriends had been as far removed from medicine as possible—a landscape gardener, then a chef. But somehow she hadn’t felt this. This connection.
And she couldn’t understand it. She’d only met Jack last night. And yes, they’d clicked. There was no doubt the man was attractive. There was no doubt her mind was imagining so many other places they could go.
But the timing wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all. Her mother’s face flashed into her head. The tired, weary look that had always been visible. The sadness when she’d glanced at a clock and realized Amber’s father wouldn’t be home that night. The endless amount of wasted dinners scraped into a trash can. The times when Amber had sat at the dinner table, desperate to tell her father about her day, and he could barely pay attention—talking over her as he launched into yet another story about work, or surgery, or research. Or when he left the table again as soon as the phone had begun to ring with another call from the hospital.
She’d spent her whole life feeling like an unimportant spare part. Constantly trying to earn the approval of a man who barely knew she existed. When Jack had spoken on the stage earlier on today, he’d had the same conviction, the same passion and dedication as her father.
She sucked in a breath as she realized the similarities between them both.
Having any kind of relationship with Jack Campbell was a complete nonstarter. She’d already lived part of her life being second best in someone’s life. She was determined never to allow herself to be in that position again.
She wanted to step away. She should step away.
But for the briefest of seconds her eyes just fixated on the rise and fall of Jack Campbell’s chest under his fatigues. She tried to focus. She had a purpose. She was a physician. She was here as the representative of her agency. She had a job to do. She could continue to monitor Zane and Aaron to try and keep them stable. To chart the progress of the infection and its reaction to treatments. Information like this was vital right now—nearly as vital as stopping the potential of any spread.
Aaron’s parents might be on the road here and in the path of the hurricane. Her skin prickled. The logical part of her brain told her that these people were Hawaiians. They would know all the emergency plans for hurricanes. They would know how to keep safe. But would they follow their heads or their hearts?
Two years ago she’d had to make a heartbreaking call to another parent. She’d been called to an ER overwhelmed with flu patients. A small child had been admitted straight from school with a history of asthma, difficulty breathing and a high temperature. She’d called the parents and told them they should attend as quickly as possible. They never got there. In their sense of panic they’d been involved in a car accident and it had etched a permanent memory in Amber’s brain and a scar in her heart. If she’d said something different, maybe if she hadn’t let them know the urgency that she was feeling, they might have taken more care.
But the truth was, in the midst of a chaotic ER, she’d held that little girl’s hand—angry that the parents hadn’t got there in time—and tried to assist as they’d attempted to resuscitate her. They’d failed. And then she’d got the news about the parents.
No one had blamed her. No one had needed to. She’d blamed herself.
There were always going to be tough times being a doctor. She knew that. She expected that. But this one had hit her harder than others.
And it had affected her more than she’d realized. Her confidence at work and around others was mainly just bravado. It also helped her erect a shield around herself.
Her heart wasn’t safe. She didn’t feel in a position to form relationships. Not while she felt like this. Not when she couldn’t open herself up to others. It was safer to be single. Safer to surround herself with colleagues who didn’t seem to recognize her detachment, but, instead, thought of it as self-assuredness and confidence.
She told them she didn’t date colleagues and let them think that her life was full of a hundred other potential suitors at any time of the day.
She didn’t tell them that she’d run out of series to watch on her paid Internet TV.
For the briefest of seconds earlier today she’d thought she’d recognized something on Jack’s face.
That expression. That look. A flashback—a haunting. It was momentary. Only lasting a few seconds.
But it made her feel something. A connection.
And even though there was a hurricane outside, that scared her more than anything. So she turned on her heel and walked away.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u1e7bdafe-6a39-5204-bdde-eb590586f72b)
HE WASN’T ENTIRELY sure what was going on. Maybe he’d been too forward with the woman who’d shared his bed last night. He’d wanted to envelop Amber in a hug, but her demeanor had told him not to, and he’d ended up just pulling her toward him and gently touching heads.
He still couldn’t work out what had possessed him. He hadn’t held a woman that close in...how long?
Two years. Two long, hard years.
One minute she was there. Next minute she was gone.
Jill Foster had been a bright-eyed medic he’d met in Afghanistan. She was one of the best he’d worked with. As a teenager she wanted to be a doctor but couldn’t afford to go to university, so she joined the army instead. Her skills and natural talent were picked up and she excelled in her role.
They worked side by side for six months. And as soon as he got home he missed her. By the time they redeployed again they were dating. Right up until the day he was felled by abdominal pain. The bothersome ache that had been distracting him had turned into an acute pain and he’d collapsed after finishing a long emergency surgery. Twelve hours later he’d woken up and life had changed.
Life had changed completely.
He’d had an appendectomy. It seemed that the army doc hadn’t recognized his own appendicitis. But in that twelve hours there had been an emergency—a group of soldiers had been caught in some cross fire and had needed to be retrieved. He was usually part of the emergency call-out team. But, when he’d been under anesthetic, Jill had taken his place. And it had cost her her life. While going to pick up their injured comrades the vehicle had driven over an IED, the effect instant.
Gone. Just like that.
He’d never forget the face of the base commander who’d been there to tell him as soon as he came around from anesthetic. The guy looked ill, his face pale underneath his tanned skin. The other soldiers had been retrieved, but Jill and three other members of the team Jack normally worked with had been wiped out.
The numbness spread through his body immediately. He pushed up from the gurney, ignoring any wound pain, and staggered across the compound toward the mortuary. Two squaddies saw him and ran over to help, throwing their arms around his waist to keep him steady.
But no one would let him see Jill.
And he knew why. He did. Surgeons knew better than anyone what the effects of an IED could be.
So, he sat on the floor of the mortuary for the next six hours and vowed to make his time in Afghanistan meaningful.
Everything after that became about the wound dressing.
Wartimes were tough. Surgeons dealt with explosive injuries that no normal surgeon would ever see. And because of his postings he’d grown familiar with the faces around the camp. The cheeky squaddie in the armory. The quiet Yorkshire lad who liked to read books. The gung-ho female sergeant who could give any guy a run for his money. All of them had ended up on his table.
Not all of them had lived. But Jack had done his best. He agonized over any person that he lost. Replayed everything in his mind, wondering what he could have done differently—could have done better.
Once he was in the desert setting, work was everything. He became almost obsessed. The research too was entirely in his focus. He quickly realized how good their dressing worked and what the life-saving implications were. It was everything to him.
It gave him something to focus on. It allowed him to build a shell around himself and close out the rest of the world. He still went above and beyond for his colleagues—he always would. But he’d lost the connection, he’d lost the emotion and empathy that he’d always had within the job.
He’d lost a little part of his heart.
And now? He had no idea what he was doing—in more ways than one. He wasn’t worried about helping after the hurricane. The infectious disease stuff was beyond his professional expertise. But if he had to hunt down people to deliver emergency antibiotics, he could live with that.
What he wasn’t so sure about was the fact that the first woman he’d held in two years had just blanked him and walked away. Was his heart so numb that he couldn’t pick up on female cues anymore?
Amber looked as if she was sucking in some deep breaths as she scrubbed her hands at one of the sinks. The noise seemed to echo around them in the basement. He couldn’t stand it. Should he apologize for holding her?
He shook his head and stalked across the corridor to the other room. The IV antibiotics were feeding slowly through to both Zane and Aaron. Both of them were still sedated and ventilated. He glanced at the monitors and then at their charts. The nurse came over and stood with him at the end of Zane’s bed. She gave her head a slight shake. “I still don’t know if he’s reacting to the medicines. He still seems so flat.” She gestured toward the rise and fall of his chest.
Jack nodded. He understood what she meant. All of Zane’s accessory muscles were working around his chest area. With ventilation and sedation he should be in a much more stable position. It was almost as if his body was fighting against everything.
Aaron seemed much more settled. His heart rate, temperature and blood pressure were good. It seemed that he was reacting better to the treatments and medications.
The lights flickered again and the television monitor in the room across the hall shorted out. The nurse’s face paled. “This is it,” she said warily. “The TV signal is gone. The hurricane is about to hit.”
Amber appeared back in the doorway. She looked awful. “What do you do next?”
The nurse gave the briefest shake of her head. “Hunker down.”
* * *
For the next four hours they held their breaths as they waited to see if they would come out the other side of the hurricane. It didn’t matter they were in the basement with no windows or possibility of flying glass. At times the whole foundation of the building seemed to shudder and Jack wondered if the whole hospital could end up on top of them. Doors and windows throughout the hospital must have been affected as the doorway to the stairwell at the end of the corridor continued to rattle incessantly. It was impossible to stay still for four hours. They had patients to look after, and Jack couldn’t help but worry about the patients above them and the people outside. They tiptoed around each other in a kind of unspoken frustration. The phone lines had died. Between them they’d managed to reach fourteen of the local people who had stayed overnight in the same accommodation as Zane and Aaron.
“I thought the eye of the hurricane was supposed to be silent. Quiet even,” he said to one of the older nurses.
She shook her head. “Maybe in a movie. Or in a fairy tale. I’ve only seen two hurricanes. And there was no silence. Except when they were over. We’re being hit by the fiercest part of the storm right now. Anything or anybody out there right now probably doesn’t stand a chance. Anything not anchored or cemented to the ground will likely never be seen again. Or end up on one of the other islands.” She sighed, and he realized she must be thinking about her family on Oahu. He put his hand on her arm.
“I’m sure they’re safe. Just like we are.”
She gave the briefest of nods and then marched over to the monitors and started pressing buttons again. Jack was exasperated. He needed to be doing something. Anything. But he’d done everything he could down here.
Ty had been started on the antibiotics too. And he, in turn, had been concerned about his employees with young families.
Amber took the time to explain how meningitis passed from person to person and how, at the moment, unless an employee showed signs themselves, their families weren’t at risk.
She seemed to circumvent Jack wherever he went. And that was fine. If he’d overstepped he was glad of the message.
They monitored Zane carefully, watching his limbs closely for any visible signs of septicemia. Eventually, Jack finally made his way up the stairwell to see if he could be of assistance in any other part of the hospital. He’d only made it to the first floor before he could hear the rattle throughout the building. The door at the stairwell had been juddering loudly, obviously being buffeted by wind that had found a way inside the hospital.
Jack stuck his head through tentatively. No patients should be on the first floor or the top floor. Flash flooding and roof damage were two of the major probable issues. The evacuation plan dictated that most patients were moved to central areas on the second and third floors.
“Hello?” he shouted. He concentrated and listened hard. All he could hear was the wind whistling through the building and the sound of thudding rain.
He pulled his head back in and started up to the second floor. There definitely would be patients and staff up there. There was a crowd of people in green scrubs standing at the entrance to the stairwell on the second floor. A few glanced in his direction as he pushed through. He held out his hand to the nearest member of staff with a stethoscope around his neck. “Jack Campbell, Senior Medical Officer, British Army. Can I do anything?”
He could see a myriad people in the corridors with swabs held to arms and heads. The man gave a brief nod. “Oh, yeah, the army guy. I heard about you. I’m Ron Kekoe. Head of the ER. We’ve had to move upstairs in case of flash flooding.” He glanced at his watch. “We’re going to give it a few hours then move back down, and send out teams as required.” He pointed toward a makeshift desk just along the corridor. “Phones are down but we’ve got radios to contact other emergency services and the evacuation shelters.” His face was serious. “We’ve already had a few reports of winds up to one hundred and eighty miles an hour and roofs being torn off buildings. There will be casualties.” He frowned for a second and Jack realized someone had appeared beside him.
Amber, breathing heavily. She must have run up the stairs after him. His first thought was for the teenagers. “Zane? Aaron?”
She shook her head. “No. They’re just the same. But I realized I probably wasn’t much use down there. One of the residents is staying with them. I thought I should probably come and help.”
He could hear it. That little edge of nerves in her voice. It was clear, however, that Ron didn’t hear it. He just gave a nod. “The infectious disease doctor?”
Amber didn’t seem to mind the label and held out her hand. “Amber Berkeley, DPA.”
Ron gave her a half-suspicious look. “Someone mentioned you wanted to take antibiotics out.” He shook his head fiercely. “No way. Not anytime soon. First vehicles that go out will be heading up portable trauma bays. If it’s near to where you need to be, you’re welcome to tag along—provided you do some doctoring.”
He didn’t even wait for Amber’s reply. Jack got that. Everything about this was familiar territory to him. This was all about triage, all about prioritizing. Ron gave them both a nod. “Can you deal with some minor injuries? There’s nothing too threatening. Just flying glass and debris. A few staff were caught. If you could clean and stitch that would be great.”
Amber gave a quick nod of her head and walked around Jack, heading toward the first person with a bloody wound pad pressed to their forearm.
He watched for a few seconds as he could see her swallow nervously. This was different for her. And he got that.
He moved on over and started treating the next member of staff who had a cut on their forehead.
He was methodical. And he was quick. All the injuries were relatively minor.
But as he worked steadily he noticed the continued chaos around him. Although the external phone lines weren’t working, the internal phones rang constantly. Staff seemed to be disorganized, and Ron, as Head of the ER, seemed out of his depth.
Jack couldn’t help himself. He walked over. “How about you let me do some of this?”
Ron looked up from a prescription he was writing. Three other members of staff were waiting to talk to him and the radio was crackling constantly on the table.
“What can you do?”
Jack pointed to the desk. “I have experience of crisis triage. How about I field all the radio calls? I can take the details and liaise with the other agencies. We need to know what’s needed and where. As soon as the winds die down we could have teams packed up and ready to go. What do you say?”
He was trying so hard not to overstep. He could see Ron was struggling with the volume. He might not know Jack, but surely he would let him help?
Ron only paused for a few seconds as the radio continued to crackle.
“Perfect. Let me know if there’s anything major.”
“You got it.” Jack settled at the desk and picked up the radio. There were a few notes already about building damage—but no reports about casualties. There was a footnote querying whether a home with disabled residents had been evacuated, with a note to check with the nearest evacuation center. There were a few other notes from a care agency who had several housebound residents that they hadn’t been able to get to. Chances were they were safe. Most Hawaiians knew about the potential threats and what to do. But the infirm or frail would probably not have been able to put all preparations in place without assistance.
There seemed to be no standard way of keeping track of all the information, so Jack added all the names and addresses to a list for checks and pulled out a citywide map to start charting where everyone was.
Some staff were reporting that the sky was almost black now. No one with any thought to safety could possibly go outside.
The chatter on the radios was constant, along with the background noise of the hammering winds. Even though they’d been told not to, some of the staff squinted past mattresses at the windows and let out squeals and gasps. “Did you see that?”
“That car just flipped!”
“Oh, my, look over there. The roof’s coming off that building like a tin can!”
“Those trees are bending like drinking straws.”
“That one’s going to snap for sure!”
The rain thudded off the windows, battering down in among the wind’s fury. Debris flew through the air, randomly hitting windows and shattering glass.
Jack tried to tune it all out, focusing on the task he’d been given and trying to keep a clear head. But even though he tried, his eyes were distracted by the woman who’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and seemed to be cleaning and stitching wounds precisely. She had a quieter nature when working with staff who were patients, and, even though he’d seen a smattering of nerves earlier today, he would never question her clinical skills.
Reports continued to come in and his list grew longer and longer. By the time Amber came over and sat down next to him, he’d started to separate out all the calls by seriousness and area.
She looked down at the lists and charts he had spread across the table. “Wow. You’re really keeping on top of this. How many teams do we have?”
“Probably less than we actually need.” He didn’t mean his answer to seem quite so brusque.
Amber shot him a strange sideways glance. “Do you know how many staff we have, and how many transportation vehicles?”
He glanced over at Ron, trying to hide his frustration. “Ron hasn’t told me yet. Search and Rescue say no one leaves unless they deem it necessary. There can be risks of flash flooding.”
Ron appeared next to Jack and blanched when he saw the list and map covered in colored dots. Jack stood up. “The eye of the hurricane has passed. How about we send staff back down to the first floor to reopen the ER? It’s important that people have a central point to come to.”
Ron nodded in agreement.
“Makes sense.” Amber pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and smoothed it out in front of her. “So, do any of the areas where teams will be sent have patients we’ll be looking for?”
He could tell she was trying to sound reasonable. He knew perfectly well that as soon as the winds died down she wanted to find a car and get around all the contacts immediately.
He pulled out his own list. He hadn’t forgotten that he’d offered to help her. “Trouble is, it’s so dark out there now. With all the debris, the roads will be hard enough to maneuver along. What with no street lighting, things will be much worse.” He pointed to colored dots he’d stuck on the map. “The blue dots are addresses where we need to give people antibiotics. What complicates things is that some of these people might not have stayed in their own homes. The statewide evacuation shelters are all based in high schools or elementary schools. Chances are, some of them might have gone there.”
“We have no way of telling?”
Jack shook his head. “Not right now. There could be thousands of people in each of the evacuation shelters. With limited communications, there’s no way for us to find out.”
“Any news about Aaron’s parents?”
Jack shook his head again. “I’ve not heard a thing about them. If I do, I’ll let you know.”
He could see her swallowing nervously as she pointed to another part of her notes. “These people, there’s fourteen of them. That includes the three close contacts who had traveled internationally. We’ve contacted Florida, Texas and New Zealand. It’s up to their own public health departments to make contact and issue the antibiotics. We also had four kids go back to Oahu. Honolulu staff are coordinating for them. Another two kids are on Maui and one more on Kauai. Local doctors will deal with them.”
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