Locked Down With The Army Doc

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.

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