About That Night...

Wow. Nothing like getting to the heart of the matter. But he didn’t have time to think about what she’d said because she wasn’t finished.

“But I don’t know where you fit into this picture.”

“What do you mean?” Her conversation seemed to jump all over the place. What was going on in her mind? Was this lack of sleep?

She folded her arms across her chest and straightened herself in the chair.

“I know you had issues with my brother but I don’t know what they were. Sawyer never told me. Will you?”

Now, there was a question. The words hung in the air. Could he really put into words the complexity of what had happened between him and Sawyer and how he felt? He almost didn’t know where to start. And did he really want to have this conversation with a woman he would spend the next three months with? The answer was easy.

“Probably not.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “Well, where does that leave us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does your irrational hatred of my brother extend to me too?”

He swallowed, not really sure how to answer. The truth of the matter was that it did change how he perceived her. His bias against Sawyer was already affecting how he felt about her. Would she exhibit the same traits as her brother? Would she walk out on a mission when it was at its most vital stage?

He set his lips in a firm line but he couldn’t look at her and his voice was low. “You know I don’t hate you, Violet.” His brain was painting pictures. Pictures of Violet in that red dress she’d been wearing a few days ago with a thick black belt cinching her waist. He was sure she’d worn it to distract him from the fact she hadn’t produced the report. And she had been right to, because it had worked.

Her eyes drifted off to one side. “I thought I was going to get fired.”

He nodded slowly. “Me too.”

Her green eyes met his. “I don’t want to get fired,” she said steadily. “I love my job.”

“I don’t want to get fired either. My job’s the best thing in my life right now.”

Why had he said that?

That was far too personal. And Evan tried not to mix his personal life and with his working life. Or, at least, not usually.

“So I guess we both have to make the best of the situation.”

She didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, she pulled out a flower-covered notebook and started scribbling.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to make plans. I need to make arrangements for my apartment. The electricity, the rent, the mail …” Her voice tailed off.

The enormity of the upheaval started to hit him too. He’d need to make similar plans—all in the space of a week. To say nothing of the handover he’d have to give to Donovan about running the team here. The next week would be a nightmare.

Violet was scribbling again. It was almost as if he wasn’t there. He watched her as her hand flew over the page. Her hair was falling over her face. His fingers itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. Why on earth did he think like this around her?

“Any chance of a copy of your list? It will save me doing mine.”

She raised her head and the sides of her mouth turned up. “Not a hope.” She stood up and walked toward the door. “I’m going to start going over my files, see what work I need to hand over to someone else.”

“Violet?”

She stopped, her hand on the doorhandle. “What?”

He couldn’t help it. He had to ask. Did she have the same kind of traits that he’d seen in her brother? He needed to know. The next three months were going to be a strain. Ever since that kiss he’d spent the past few months avoiding being in close proximity to her.

They’d never spoken about it. Never mentioned it. A drunken fumble on a work night out that no one knew about.

He had no idea how she felt about it.

More importantly, he’d no idea how he felt about it.

He’d woken up the next morning with the strangest feeling in his stomach. Part dread, part excitement. He was her boss. He should never have gone near her. It compromised their working relationship.

And now it seemed as if she was prepared to hold it over his head. That made Violet dangerous. That made Violet a threat.

“When the director interrupted us you were saying something about me being unprofessional. You were implying that because of the kiss. You thought you were about to be fired. Were you going to try and get me fired too? Would you do that, Violet?”

Her eyes met his and he saw a little flash of fire. She didn’t hesitate for a second. “In a heartbeat.”

She pushed open the door and walked out, leaving Evan wondering what he’d got himself into.

CHAPTER TWO

THE HEAT HIT her as soon as they stepped off the plane. It was like stepping into a fan-heated oven.

How on earth could she function in this for the next three months? Would she ever get used to it?

The sweat was already starting to run in rivulets down her back and catch in her bra strap. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a travel-sized antiperspirant spray. “I’m heading to the ladies’ room. Can you watch for my bag? It’s lime-green.”

Evan nodded and dropped his rucksack onto the floor beside the luggage carousel. Great. A twelve-hour flight from Atlanta to Lagos, Nigeria, and he still wasn’t speaking to her.

Not that she cared. But it was unnerving to sit next to someone for that long without exchanging a single word.

She splashed some water on her face and pulled a ponytail band from her bag, sweeping her sticky hair from the back of her neck. She pulled off her white top and sprayed liberally before swapping it for a purple one in her rucksack. It was a little crumpled but it would have to do.

Was Evan planning on speaking to her any time soon? And what did he have to be so mad about, anyway? She’d only told him the truth. And if he couldn’t handle the truth …

She heard the squeak of luggage being wheeled past the doorway. People were obviously leaving so the baggage must have arrived.

She picked up her bag and headed back outside, just in time to see Evan drag her lime-green suitcase from the carousel.

It landed with a thump at her feet. “What on earth have you got in here? Did you pack the entire contents of your apartment? I’ve never seen a suitcase that size in my life. As for the weight, how on earth did you get it down your stairs?”

She watched as he pulled another suitcase—this time with one hand—from the carousel. It was a medium-sized navy blue case. She couldn’t help the smile that flickered across her lips.

She tilted her head up at him. “Oh, so now you’re talking to me, are you?” She pulled the handle up on the side of her case and tilted it onto its wheels. The initial tug was tough but once the case picked up a little momentum, it sailed along behind her.

“Do you remember the name of the person we’re meeting?” She walked in the direction of the exit.

Evan was matching her stride for stride, holding his case easily in his hand—he had no need for wheels. He pulled a piece of paper from his top pocket. “Someone called Amos should be waiting for us outside Arrivals with a car. They said under no circumstances should we get in a local taxi.” His eyes fell on her suitcase again. “Though at this rate we’ll probably need an eighteen-wheeler to move that. What do you have in there?”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Just everything a girl could need. Hold up a sec,” she said, as one of the customs officers gestured toward her.

Two hours later they finally made it to the exit.

“Of all the ridiculous, over-packed, stupid items to have in your suitcase—”

“Oh, drop it, Evan. I’m too hot and tired to listen to your whining.” She nodded in the direction of a man with a board showing their names in his hand. He looked as if he was wilting.

“Hi,” she said. “Amos? I’m Violet Connelly and this is Evan Hunter. Sorry we took so long.”

The man’s brow furrowed. “Was there a problem with the officials? I hope not.”

Evan let out a snort. “The only problems were the ones that she caused. Probably by trying to transport the equivalent of an elephant in her luggage.”

“An elephant? I don’t understand.”

Violet placed her hand over his. “Dr. Hunter is being sarcastic. The officials searched my luggage and removed certain items.”

“Items? What items?”

Violet shook her head. “Nothing important. Some U.S. candy. Some electrical items. Nothing I can’t live without.”

Evan was obviously becoming impatient. The two-hour-long inspection of Violet’s luggage must have been the final straw for him. “Do you have a car?”

Amos nodded. “The minibus is parked outside. I’ll take you to the Healthy World Federation building and give you some safety instructions. Stay next to me, please, as we leave the building. Some of the local taxis will try and encourage you to go with them.”

He grabbed hold of the handle of Violet’s case and stopped dead, obviously unprepared for the weight. He struggled to give her a smile as he dragged it along behind him. Within a few minutes they were outside the terminal building and were immediately accosted by a whole host of taxi drivers.

“Stay close!” shouted Amos as they pushed their way through. Evan’s hand appeared from nowhere and rested gently at her waist, guiding her through the shouting faces until they reached the car park.

“How far to the city?”

The long flight, followed by the search at customs, had taken their toll. Violet was ready to collapse in a heap. “Around fifty minutes. We’re just going to the outskirts. It’s a relatively safe area. Don’t worry.”

He opened the back door of the minibus and nodded to Evan. “Give us a hand with this, please.” Evan grabbed the other side of the case and between them they tossed it into the back of the minivan. Maybe a big suitcase hadn’t been such a good idea after all. But at the time she’d been packing everything had seemed like an essential.

The journey flew past. Violet could barely keep her eyes open as they sped through the city suburbs. It was immediately apparent that poverty was an issue—just like in so many other cities throughout the world.

She felt a sharp nudge on the ribs. “Wake up, Violet, we’re here.”

Her eyes shot open. When had she fallen asleep? The last thing she remembered was staring out the window at a group of children playing football in the street.

Somehow she’d fallen asleep with her head on Evan’s shoulder, and the heat from his body in the air-conditioned van had been comforting. She pulled herself up straight and rubbed at her cheek. Great. She could feel the creases of his shirt embedded in her face.

She looked out the window as Amos opened the door and let the heat flood inside again.

She’d had a little handheld, battery-powered fan in her suitcase. Too bad she hadn’t thought to put it in her hand luggage.

She jumped down onto the street and immediately pulled her sunglasses down from her forehead. She glanced at her watch. It was still set to Atlanta time. Lagos was only five hours ahead, but the jump between time zones had totally disorientated her. It felt as if it should be the middle of the night.

Amos hauled her case up the front steps of the building and pushed open the glass doors. Air-conditioning again. Bliss.

A woman in traditional dress met them at reception. “Dr. Hunter? Dr. Connelly? Welcome to headquarters.” She gestured toward the rear of the building. “If you want to head to the lifts, I’ll give you a key to your rooms. You’ll have a chance to freshen up, but we need you back down here later to meet the members of your team and have a safety briefing.”

“No problem.” Evan obviously wasn’t suffering from the same travel effects that she was. Right now she just wanted to lie down on some cool cotton sheets.

Evan glanced at the number of the key and pocketed it. Both of them stood for a few more seconds, waiting for the second key to appear.

It didn’t.

The lady looked back up. “Oh, didn’t someone explain? We’re a little short of space. You’ll be bunking up together. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Her manner was so relaxed it almost disarmed Violet. What Violet really wanted to do was scream and shout and stamp her feet on the floor. Her patience and fatigue was at an all-time low.

“No problem at all.” Evan’s cool voice cut through the strop she was currently throwing in her head and he headed off toward the lift.

She bit her tongue and tugged her case after him, struggling to pull it over the seam between the floor and elevator door. Evan’s hand slid over hers and he gave it a final tug, sending her hurtling backward into the lift. She landed against the back wall with a thud.

“Thanks.” She couldn’t hide her sarcastic tone and wasn’t even going to try.

“My pleasure.” She could hear the edge of amusement in his voice and she really wasn’t in the mood at all.

He pressed a button and the elevator slid smoothly upward, opening onto a brightly lit corridor with a procession of identical brown doors.

“Can you manage?”

“Of course.” She tugged her case with both hands, smiling as his foot came into contact with one of the wheels. It really did feel as if she had a dead body inside.

He flinched. “We’re in here.” He slid the card into the door and pushed it open, revealing a regular-sized room with a large white bed.

One large white bed.

Silence.

Who would react first?

It was Violet. It was the final straw.

“You have got to be joking!”

Evan’s eyes swept the room, obviously looking for somewhere else to sleep. No stowaway bed. No pull-down couch.

One bed. Or nothing.

Violet stomped over to the bathroom and stuck her head inside. Clean. Functional. White bath and a separate shower.

“What are you looking for, a secret bed?”

His voice made her jump, his warm breath tickling the hairs at the back of her neck. She spun round. “Don’t do that!”

He smiled and it caught her unawares. The sun was streaming through the window, lighting up his face. When had been the last time she’d seen him smile? She couldn’t remember.

One thing was for sure. Evan Hunter should smile more often.

There were little lines around his blue eyes but they didn’t detract from how handsome he was. They only added character. And he was so close she could see little flecks of gold in them.

She was so tired right now. All she wanted to do was lean forward, bury her head in his firm chest and go to sleep. The bed in the middle of the room was practically shouting her name. But there was no way they could share a bed.

Especially after what had happened a few months ago.

The kiss had been steamy enough. But the two of them in a bed?

No. The picture that was conjuring up in her brain was too much. This fatigue was stopping any rational thoughts whatsoever.

Evan folded his arms across his chest.

“I don’t know about you, Violet, but I have no intention of sleeping on the floor.”

He was right. She knew he was right.

She glanced around at the floor. There wasn’t even as much as a rug to lie on.

Sharing a room in close proximity to Evan would be hard enough. But sharing a bed? It didn’t even bear thinking about.

There was a small table and chairs in front of the window in the room.

“How about we sleep in shifts?” She moved quickly, crossing the room in strides and jumping onto the bed. “I’ll go first.”

Her head sank instantly into the pillow. Perfect. She didn’t care what he thought. She needed to get some sleep. Now.

Evan sat down on one of the chairs, leaning forward and pulling a thick wad of papers from the zipped pocket in his case. His eyes ran over her body as she shuffled her shoes off and kicked them to the floor. Was he looking at her curves? Was he thinking about the last time he’d had his hands on her body?

That sent a whole new sensation prickling across her skin.

“Cranky when you’re tired, aren’t you? Fine. You sleep. I’ll read. I’ll wake you up in a few hours, in time for the briefing. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said instantly. There was no way she was getting off this comfortable bed.

How bad could this be? Maybe in a few hours they would be able to find someone else to share with?

Her eyes flickered shut.

She and Evan Hunter in a shared room.

Not the best start to her new life. Three years ago she’d originally applied to be part of this program but circumstances had changed and the thought of mainstream clinical work—potentially with lots of children—had been too difficult for her.

It hadn’t helped that her grieving brother hadn’t been in touch. Neither were her parents. They still hadn’t recovered from the loss of their daughter-in-law and first grandchild some years earlier. Telling them about her own circumstances would only have added to their pain. And they hadn’t needed that.

So she’d gone through everything herself.

Oh, she’d had some good friends who’d been there for her but it wasn’t the same as family, no matter how much she tried to spin it in her mind.

But life had come full circle. Time was supposed to be a great healer.

Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t.

She was ready for a change. She was a doctor. She’d spent the past three years in the epidemiology and planning department of the DPA.

It had been fine—for a desk job. But Violet was a people person.

The conflict—and incursion—with Evan Hunter had given her the impetus she needed to apply for a transfer. She wanted to have contact with patients again. She wanted to help people. She wanted to make a difference.

And out here, in Nigeria, she could certainly help to make a difference with the polio program.

It was time to get back out into the real world. And you didn’t get much more real than the heart of Africa.

She had her mind set on this. Getting involved again. Having contact with families. Having contact with mothers. Having contact with children. Having contact with babies.

Evan Hunter was nothing more than an inconvenience.

A handsome inconvenience.

She had work to do here, and he’d better not get in her way.

She snuggled further into the pillow and prayed she didn’t snore.

Evan gave her shoulder a little shake again, raising his voice just a little. “Violet. Violet. It’s time to wake up. We’ve got the briefing in half an hour.”

She stirred and mumbled something. It almost felt unfair to wake her. She was much nicer while she slept.

Less distracting. Less confrontational. Less a reminder of her brother.

He still hadn’t got over that. Matt Sawyer’s sister. Wow. He hadn’t seen that one coming. Not by a long shot.

She was mumbling again. She’d spent the past few hours doing that. Talking in her sleep. It was kind of cute. Not that he thought Violet was cute.

Not at all.

Plus, he didn’t have a single clue what she’d been saying. At one point it had almost sounded like someone’s name.

Her eyes flickered open and took a few moments to focus. At the exact moment a drip from his still-wet hair landed on her nose. He’d taken the opportunity to shower while she’d been sleeping and hadn’t got round to rubbing his hair with a towel.

“Eeeewwww!” She sat up sharply, her hand automatically rubbing her nose.

“Sorry.”

She glanced at her watch then screwed up her nose. “What time is it here? I’m still on Atlanta time.”

“It’s nearly six o’clock. You’d better get ready. I thought you might want to shower.”

She pushed herself up the bed. “Have you left any hot water?”

He shrugged. “You know what they say—if you’re not fast, you’re last.”

A pillow sailed from the bed and caught him on the side of his head. “Hey!”

Her head turned to the side, taking in the table where he’d been sitting. The papers and documentation had spilled over onto the other chair and across half the floor.

“Did you kill half a tree while I was sleeping?” She walked over and picked up some of the paperwork. “Do we really need to read all this?”

He shook his head. “You don’t. I do. You only need to read around half.”

She seemed to gulp. “Wow.”

She gave her eyes a little rub. “I think I will shower.” She tipped her case over and opened it up.

She hadn’t been joking. She really did have everything—despite having had some things removed at the airport. But what was more interesting was how everything was packed. Rolled-up tiny items, all in blocks of color. Nothing like the flat-folded items in his case. She even had her toiletries stuffed into her shoes.

She unrolled a light yellow dress, some white underwear and pulled some shampoo from a shoe. “I’ll only be five minutes.”

And she was. Her hair was still wet but pulled back into a braid that fell straight down her back.

It really was disarming how pretty she could look without even trying.

She picked up a notebook with purple flowers on the front. He squinted. “Are those violets?”

She nodded and smiled. “I have a whole boxful of these at home. Pretty, aren’t they? At least no one can steal my signature notebook.” The smile reached all the way up to her eyes.

It was nice to see a genuine smile. The past few weeks she’d had a permanent scowl on her face. But maybe that was especially for him. He liked her better this way.

“Did you buy them?”

“No. Sawyer did.”

How to break a moment. It was like someone had just thrown a bucket of ice over him.

He just couldn’t get past the connection.

He’d been the team leader. The one responsible for all members of staff.

And Sawyer’s wife, Helen, had died on that mission. Stuck out in the middle of nowhere with an ectopic pregnancy. By the time they’d recognized what was wrong it had been too late for her.

He blamed Sawyer. He must have known his wife was pregnant and yet he had let her go on that mission.

But Evan also had reason to blame himself, and six years on he still couldn’t get the guilt out of his head. Six years on he still hadn’t managed to shake the feeling that he was living a life his colleague wasn’t. It didn’t seem fair. It wasn’t as if he was short of offers. Sure, he dated. But the first time he even felt a flicker of something toward the woman of the moment, they had to go. Because why should he get to live, love and procreate when his colleague didn’t?

The sensation of guilt was a hideous, never-ending cycle. Sometimes it faded a little, only to flicker back into life as soon as something sparked a memory.

Violet was ready now, her eyes quizzical as if she had been reading his secret thoughts, her hand on the doorhandle. “Let’s go,” she said quietly.

He followed her to the elevators and down to the conference room. It was impressive. One wall was covered in maps of the states of Nigeria. Another had organizational charts of the team members. Another had immunization targets and notifications.

Everything they needed was right before their eyes.

“Welcome, Evan. Welcome, Violet. I’m Frank Barns, director of DPA’s Nigeria office.” He gestured to the walls. “Welcome to the operations center.”

He shook their hands and led them over to the nearest wall where the maps were displayed. “I finished a briefing for the other new staff earlier. You’ve probably realized we’re at a real tipping point with polio eradication. If immunity is not raised in the three remaining countries to levels necessary to stop poliovirus transmission, then polio eradication will fail. Nigeria is the only polio-endemic country remaining in Africa. There are several high-risk states and I’ve decided to send you to Natumba state. We’ve had sixty-two cases of wild poliovirus this year—more than half of them notified from Natumba. One third of all children there remain under-immunized.”