Tempted by Her Hot-Shot Doc

by Becky Wicks

  ‘OK...’

  Madeline gripped more tightly onto her cup and bit into her cheek. Ghost-writing wasn’t exactly something she was thrilled about doing. Her last book—written under her own name—hadn’t gone too well, though, due to her publisher having no marketing budget, mostly. Her sales had suffered horribly while she’d been out writing the next one in the middle of nowhere in Zimbabwe.

  Apparently bad things happened to books if you couldn’t spend twenty-four hours a day on Twitter, telling everyone about them.

  Bad things happened to relationships, too, if you stupidly left your boyfriend alone for two months...

  Madeline pushed thoughts of Adeline from her head.

  Samantha sipped her coffee, then put the cup down on the messy table.

  ‘Ryan is about to go and shoot the third season of Medical Extremes, as you know, and what with all his appointments he hasn’t got time for the memoir, too. We need someone to help him write the book at the same time as he’s filming—gather quotes, insights, interviews, you know? Am I right in thinking you’re still free to take a week or two, probably three, out of London at the moment?’

  Madeline nodded blankly. Ryan was so tall and so commanding without even trying. Everyone seemed to be in awe of him. And although she was a little loath to admit it, after the way he’d just acted towards her, it wasn’t hard to see why.

  As well as being the sexiest doctor since George Clooney, Ryan was a millionaire who gave selflessly to charities all over the world. He didn’t have a lot else to spend his riches on, apparently. His father was a heart surgeon, famed for working with those less fortunate in the US. Ryan had taken things one step further by setting up his own non-profit organisation and flying all over the world with his team, crossing borders to reach people who’d never get help otherwise.

  Samantha lowered her voice. ‘Ryan doesn’t write. Obviously his skills lie in other areas. But with you on board, plus his celebrity status, this book could be a bestseller. Easy. The publishers have a very impressive budget.’

  ‘And Twitter?’ Madeline said. ‘How many followers?’

  ‘Over four hundred thousand. He never tweets a damn thing, of course, but we have Amy from Middlesex University who’s his biggest fan. She won the competition to be his Twitter manager. He just got done with a news team covering the story... BBC, I think. How are you at being on camera? You’ve got great cheekbones—I bet it loves you. And you speak several languages, I recall? Always useful.’

  Madeline’s stomach lurched. This was turning out to be a lot more than she’d bargained for. But it wasn’t as if she had anything else on the cards.

  She mused over the offer as Samantha kept on talking. She vaguely registered her agent mentioning Rio, a remote tribe—‘none of those weird neck rings or anything’—parasites, anaemia... But after a minute she was only half listening, because she could feel Ryan looking at her again from across the room.

  She straightened her back again, so that he could see he wasn’t intimidating her in any way, and tried to look enthusiastic and excited. She had to play her cards right. This chance was too good to pass up and maybe Samantha was right. It could be a bestseller by Christmas.

  We can both get something out of this, she thought, sending the thought across the void and straight into Ryan’s cool, iceberg eyes.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘DID YOU KNOW that CAN’s first pilots were called the flag-bearers of the skies? That was in the early nineteen-forties.’

  ‘I don’t know much about CAN at the moment,’ Madeline said. ‘This was all a bit short notice, as you know. Maybe you could explain?’

  She was trying her hardest not to let turbulence affect the way she was talking to Ryan. This plane was far too shaky for her peace of mind, but of course this man flew everywhere for a living and didn’t even look as if he’d noticed they were bumping up and down in what felt like God’s hugest tantrum since the last giant tornado.

  ‘Correio Aéreo Nacional,’ he said, picking up a packet of peanuts and running a tanned thumb over the seal without opening it. ‘Their mission was to help integrate the most remote Amazon outposts with the rest of the country.’

  ‘How did they do that?’

  Madeline pulled out her notebook, wishing she’d put her laptop under her seat instead of up in the overhead locker. She could type much faster than she could write these days, but there was no way on earth she was climbing past Ryan. She’d rather not risk feeling his eyes on her again as she tripped, or did something else stupid as a result of her nerves.

  There was something in his stare, she mused. It stayed with her even with her eyes closed. She’d seen it a thousand times in camera close-ups, of course, and it was part of what drew people in their thousands to watch him in action. It had the power to make you feel like you were the only person on earth. It also had the power to make you feel like an idiot.

  Ryan smiled, apparently scrutinising her handwriting from his seat on the aisle. ‘CAN transported isolated residents from riverside communities to places where they could be helped—usually the city. They had dozens of planes flying over the Amazon—more than they do now anyway.’

  Madeline scribbled as fast as she could to get his words down, feeling thankful that she’d brought a Dictaphone for later.

  When she looked up his grey eyes were fixed on her, and she found herself annoyingly self-conscious. At least she wasn’t wet and covered in coffee this time—she’d put on a very respectable knee-length blue dress for the flight, one that accentuated her small waist, and she’d left her long hair down around her shoulders. Also, he seemed to be making a concerted effort to be friendly, for which she was more than grateful.

  ‘The flying doctors were known as the Angels of the Amazon, is that right?’ she asked him, reaching for her necklace.

  ‘Correct,’ he said, watching her fiddling with the silver chain as she slid the small crystal apple up and down on it. ‘They were angels, Madeline. Still are. They deliver medical aid by aircraft. If they didn’t these people would only get help after weeks of travelling on foot through the jungle, or by boat.’

  ‘So, would you consider yourself an angel now, too?’

  Ryan frowned, drumming his fingers on his tray table. ‘I just do what’s necessary—like they do,’ he said. ‘These people live and breathe the Amazon—a place most of us know little about, except that it’s a living pharmacy essential to billions of lives on earth, right? They’re the caretakers of the jungle and everything in it. By helping them and looking after their health we’re helping the environment.’

  The plane jostled them again and Madeline’s tray table jumped.

  ‘Do you know where we’re going?’ he asked, catching her notepad before it slid off.

  ‘Caramambatai,’ she replied quickly, hoping she was pronouncing it right. ‘Your producer says it’s an indigenous settlement...’

  ‘The Ingariko tribe, yes. They’re spread all over South America, but this camp is pretty much hidden on the border between Brazil, Venezuela and Guyana. It’s about as remote as you’re going to get. Legend has it people have been swallowed whole by thick morning mists in these parts. They’re more likely to have been finished off by surucucu snakes, if you ask me. Highly poisonous, by the way. If you see one it will probably be the last thing you see.’

  She realised, now that he was so close, that he had lines around his eyes—proof of laughter, perhaps, more than age. He’d been happy once. Happier than the media made him out to be now anyway. He looked sexier in person, too, she decided.

  Then she caught herself.

  Sexier? There was no way she was letting herself think that again. She was here to do a job—and besides, as if anyone would go near her, let alone this guy. Her friend Emma had said she reeked of heartbreak, which wasn’t particularly nice but was definitely true. Hardly surprising after what Ja
son had done.

  Madeline could still recite every line of that love-struck email to Adeline she’d read by mistake after he’d left his laptop open.

  I’m just trying to find the right time to tell her, baby. You know it’s not her I’m in love with any more.

  ‘So, how do we reach these people once we get to Brazil?’ she asked, trying and failing to cross her legs properly under her tray table.

  They’d been on the plane for four hours already, and she’d already counted at least nine things in her head that she’d forgotten to pack or research. She was hoping she’d have time to sort a few things out in Rio—where they were stopping for supplies before taking another flight to Saint Elena.

  ‘We’ll take a Cessna,’ Ryan said. ‘Either that or a Black Hawk—whatever the team have booked. Both are pretty good on the runways.’

  ‘There are runways in the rainforest?’

  ‘Well, they’re mud strips, really.’

  Ryan opened the peanuts and offered her one. She shook her head, trying her hardest to write without scribbling on the tray table instead. They were still bouncing up and down, as if the plane itself was on some sort of trampoline.

  ‘The runways were carved out by the gold miners initially,’ he told her. ‘Illegally, of course, but they help us do our jobs so I suppose the real value of that gold just keeps on increasing—wherever it is. You can write that down.’

  She realised her pen was hovering and that she was lost in thoughts of Jason again. But this time Jason was standing next to Ryan Tobias in the jungle, and being somewhat dwarfed by him.

  She blinked to get rid of them both. ‘Right, yes. Good idea.’ She started to scribble, flustered.

  ‘Whatever you do, stay close to us,’ Ryan said suddenly, in a tone that pulled her eyes to his again like a magnet. ‘People go missing out there all the time.’

  Her breath caught as she saw an emotion she didn’t recognise cross his face.

  He continued without looking at her. ‘Last time we found a burnt-out helicopter which must have crashed twenty years ago. No skeletons inside...who knows what happened to them? The jungle has a way of luring people in and keeping them.’

  Madeline tried not to shudder. For some reason she knew he was thinking of Josephine McCarthy. What had happened to her, exactly?

  ‘When were you here last?’ she asked.

  ‘Eight months ago. Five-day CAN mission. No cameras. We treated six hundred patients for minor infections, brought some ultrasound machines. We felt bad we couldn’t help the guy who got shot, though.’

  ‘Shot?’

  ‘He did it to himself—his gun got all twisted. By the time we found him his leg had more larvae in it than a dead horse. We cleaned him out, worked on him a long time, but he didn’t make it. So, like I said, don’t go wandering off on your own, please.’ He met her eyes, concern shining around his pupils. ‘And watch what you do with your gun.’

  Madeline realised she felt quite ill. ‘Ryan, I wouldn’t be comfortable with a gun, and I really don’t think...’

  She trailed off as she caught the smile creeping onto his face and felt her cheeks flush crimson. He was joking.

  ‘Don’t worry—you’re safe with us,’ he chuckled, nudging her gently with an elbow.

  But just as quickly as it had appeared his smile was retracted, as if a memory had snatched it back again. Something stopped Madeline asking any more questions, though a million were fizzing on her tongue.

  ‘I feel safe with you,’ she said instead, meaning it. ‘How could anyone not?’

  Ryan leaned back against the seat, and looked past her, out of the window again. ‘You’ll be safe with me as long as you’re smart. It’s no one’s job but your own to protect yourself out here, Maddy. Can I call you Maddy?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘The Brazilian military uses these trips to gather intelligence sometimes, so if we have any guests you’ll know they’re on to something and it’s a sign to be on high alert.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Cocaine trafficking, illegal gold mining—it’s all going on in these parts. There were reports of drug runners in the area not so long ago.’

  ‘Drug runners?’ Madeline whispered quietly. ‘They wouldn’t touch you, though, those sorts of people—would they? Especially not with a TV crew... That would just be drawing attention to themselves.’

  Ryan shrugged, pouring a handful of peanuts into his big hand as the clouds fluttered past their window. ‘You never know what they’ll do, but let’s just say our carefully made runways are as good for transporting illegal drugs as they are for shifting real medicine. You wouldn’t want to see the wrong thing by mistake.’

  ‘Do you ever get scared?’

  He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, popping the nuts into his mouth, running a hand over his dark stubble. She studied his lips as he chewed. She’d bet he had a million women after him. She wondered if he’d ever asked anyone out who wasn’t some sort of celebrity...

  ‘I wouldn’t say I never get anxious,’ he replied eventually. ‘But if we don’t take these risks, Madeline... Maddy...we risk a lot worse. We risk thousands of people dying unnecessarily. Sick people take risks when they hear about us. They walk for days, even weeks, to get our help in these places. If we suddenly decide we’re too afraid we’re failing them and we’re failing ourselves. You can write that down, too.’

  Madeline put her pen back on her notepad, realising with dismay that her handwriting was worse than a child’s.

  ‘So, is there anyone you need to stay in touch with while we’re away?’ Ryan asked her. ‘You know there’s no signal in the Amazon? Rio might be your last chance to check in for a while.’

  ‘I’m single. My boyfriend and I broke up,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ear and trying not to let the anger register in her voice.

  She’d bypassed the emotional phase a couple of weeks ago and transitioned smoothly into fury—an emotion that reared its head like a lion whenever she thought of Adeline’s face. She wished she hadn’t checked out the other woman’s Facebook page now. It was worse being able to picture her.

  ‘He started seeing someone else while I was away working on my last book. He didn’t exactly stop once I got back.’

  Ryan was silent. When she looked up he appeared to be fighting a smile.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said, straightening his face quickly. ‘But I actually meant for this book—do you need to send things to your editor while you’re away?’

  ‘Oh.’ Madeline’s cheeks were on fire. She kicked herself internally. ‘Not for a while,’ she managed. ‘I just have to make sure we get our interviews in—and I’ll shadow you, if that’s OK.’

  ‘However you think it would work best,’ he said, resting his arm on the armrest and brushing hers accidentally. She moved as far away from him as she could, crossing her legs away from him.

  ‘I really am sorry about your boyfriend,’ he said quietly. ‘It hurts to lose someone you’re close with, however you come to part ways.’

  Madeline closed her eyes. Something in his voice spoke volumes of his own loss.

  ‘These things happen for a reason,’ she said, as firmly as she could manage. She picked up her pen again. ‘It’ll be interesting to see your work with my own eyes. I’ve watched most of your shows—you really do amazing things for people.’

  ‘Thanks...we try.’ He nodded appreciatively. ‘You’re a trained nurse, as I recall?’

  Her heart sped up. ‘Yes, well remembered.’

  ‘Why did you quit?’

  She opened her mouth to reply, but shut it again quickly. She found it hard to vocalise exactly what had happened. She’d thrown herself into her writing instead; it was what her counsellor had told her to do.

  ‘It’s OK—you don’t have to tell me.’ Ryan
put a hand on top of hers for a moment.

  Two seconds, maybe three, of skin-on-skin contact and her heart was a kangaroo. She yanked her hand back—maybe too quickly. What had happened in the hospital almost poured out of her, but she bit her tongue. He was a relative stranger. And she was in no mood to go into the details of her past life—that was what it felt like sometimes anyway.

  For the next few hours Ryan plugged himself into an action movie and left her to read her book. She couldn’t help the odd glance in his direction, just to confirm she wasn’t dreaming. And she was almost entirely certain he was sneaking a few at her. The next few weeks accompanying him and his Medical Extremes team were going to be ‘extreme’, to say the least.

  CHAPTER THREE

  RYAN STUDIED HIS face in the mirror. He liked to think he didn’t really suffer with jet lag any more, but the truth was he probably threw himself head-first into every new time zone without giving his body the chance to react. This mission was going to be a particularly tough one—not least because he’d have Madeline Savoia on his trail.

  He rested his hands on the sink, leaned closer to the glass and frowned at his reflection. His eyes looked tired. Madeline had distracted him from sleeping on the plane.

  She looked a lot like her. The first time she’d all but ploughed into him in the studio he’d almost jumped out of his skin. His reaction had been poor, he knew. Angry... The way he always acted when confronted with something he really had no clue how to handle. He’d felt as if he’d seen a ghost.

  Josephine.

  The name popped into his head like a gunshot. He swallowed hard, jerked the cold tap on and ran his hand under it. Then he said it out loud, straight into the mirror, watching his lips make their way over the word in a way they hadn’t for a long time.’

  ‘Josephine.’

  He rarely let her name past his lips. Every time he so much as thought of her the guilt crashed over him like a tsunami. It had smothered him and almost made him tumble when Madeline’s hands had pressed against him to steady herself. She hadn’t realised, of course, but she’d kind of been holding him up at the same time.