by Kit Tunstall
Zinsa walked closer to him, stopping before a large fan to pull her sticky tank top away from her skin, letting the artificial breeze waft over her. She sighed with contentment at the sensation, barely forcing herself to turn away to answer the vet. “Sure, but I need to get the patients in first, along with supplies. Care to give me a hand?”
After a brief hesitation, he nodded. “Of course.” His chair squeaked when he pushed away from the basic desk.
Her eyes widened as he stood up straight. He was the tallest man she had ever seen. Surely he stood at least six-and-a-half feet. With his height, it wouldn’t have been unwarranted to expect him to be bulging with muscles, but he had a trim physique. This was a man unafraid of physical labor, but not one who wasted hours honing his body to its maximum potential. Her mouth watered as he walked toward her and she swallowed, wishing he didn’t have the kind of frame she found appealing.
Most of all, she wished she didn’t feel this sensation that made her tingle, as if she had been struck by lightning. Was it the family gift—or curse, depending on how one looked at it? Was she finally experiencing the thing her father had described, had promised she would find someday? After thirty-two years, she had assumed it would never happen to her. It couldn’t be happening now. With setting up a makeshift practice and seeing to her patients here instead of at her own clinic, she didn’t have time for distractions.
At least, not right away, she thought with a mischievous grin as she turned to lead the way to her truck. Give her a couple of days, and he would be fair game. She would discover if what she felt was just instant attraction or something more.
Grant paused in his assigned task of unloading a cumbersome box from the back of the truck to watch Zinsa assist her last elderly patient down. He was probably going to Hell for lusting after her while she performed the altruistic task of straightening the old woman’s housedress and bandana, before tucking an arm around the birdlike frame to lead her inside the clinic. He should be overwhelmed with sympathy for the old woman, not noticing the way the sweaty gray shirt clung to Zinsa’s full breasts or the way her hips shimmied as she walked with unconscious feminine grace.
Mouth dry, Grant managed to tear his eyes from her form as she disappeared into the clinic, bringing his attention back to the task of balancing the large box and carrying it inside. Three of the rangers, who mysteriously had nothing to do, had also volunteered their services for unloading and unpacking. He resented the way their eyes followed the doctor, although he had no right to, when his were equally glued to her every move.
At the pace they were progressing, with the men unloading while Zinsa saw to assisting each of her four patients with getting settled, they would have her set up in no time. The thought terrified Grant. The fiery, instant attraction he’d experienced upon shaking her hand alarmed him. He couldn’t afford to lose control. Why did she have to be so tempting?
“Are you bonding with that box, Dr. Hayden?” Her crisp English accent lent the teasing words an air of seriousness she probably hadn’t meant to impart, judging from the grin on her face.
Grant jerked out of his reverie, his face burning with the heat of embarrassment. Mumbling something unintelligible, he brushed past her where she leaned against the door, completely aware of the heat of her body and the appealing scent underlying the odor of perspiration. It wasn’t perfume catching his attention. Just her womanly, musky scent that made him salivate.
As quickly as he could, he dumped the box into the area Zinsa would be using and fled to his office, closing the door. Her smell lingered in his nose, or maybe just his memory, and he snorted, trying to clear it.
Realizing he was leaning against the door, his cock throbbing in time with his rapidly beating heart, getting aroused just by the scent of the doctor, he cursed his foolishness and strode to his desk, dropping into the rickety wooden chair. It squeaked under the force of his weight, but held as it always did.
Casting a brooding glare to where Zinsa was now setting up her makeshift clinic, Grant searched for some other thought to occupy his mind. He could be doing inventory in preparation for his monthly order, or he could take the Land Rover out to observe the herds. Many babies would be coming in the next few weeks, and he liked to have an accurate headcount for each of the different herds.
He could be doing any number of things except the one thing he wanted to do, which was pin the good doctor against the wall, bury his nose into the valley between her breasts and take in the scent of her.
At times like this, there was no denying the animal half of his nature, the beast always tenuously held in check. Reacting so violently to a woman was a new experience, but it had to be related to his animal instincts. True, it had been a while since he had made love to a woman, but being horny didn’t explain the magnetic pull Zinsa had on him. If only he could rid himself of the beast, he could squash this inconvenient attraction. Since that was impossible, he would just have to avoid her as much as he could.
He found his plan was going to be difficult when he finally left his office a few hours later. He had spent the rest of the afternoon inside catching up on paperwork and reading a novel, all while trying to block out thoughts of how Zinsa might look stripped of her clinging tank top and khaki shorts.
As night approached, signaled by the cry of hyenas somewhere on the reserve, he crept from his office, relieved not to find her in the area of the clinic set up for her patients. The four she had brought with her were resting on cots lined close together against one wall. The mother of the only child in the group was curled uncomfortably on the floor beside her daughter’s cot.
None of the patients stirred as he went through the room, pausing to lock up the clinic. He shook his head at the need, thanks to the soldiers in the area. Before civil war erupted, he wouldn’t have felt unsafe in the place where he had been a vet for ten years.
After securing the clinic for the night, Grant walked down the hallway to the back room, where he kept all the supplies necessary for the health center. A small room off to the left housed the operating theater, but he kept going into the storage area, tiredness catching up with him.
In mid-yawn, he paused as he entered his sleeping area. The sight of Zinsa curled up on a cot just a few feet from his double bed had him tripping over his feet. His mouth hung open, but he couldn’t seem to recover the ability to close it.
She looked up at him, a small smile on her perfect, full lips. “Hello, roomie.”
His eyebrow lifted of its own accord, just as his arms crossed his chest in a challenging way. “What are you doing here?”
She waved a hand to the front. “There’s no more room up front with the patients, especially if more come in. Manu suggested I put a cot back here.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “He didn’t think it was a good idea for me to take a bed in the bunkhouse. It would be too far from my patients.”
Grant barely bit back a snort. He doubted Manu’s concern sprang from the distance she would be from the patients. More likely, he realized Zinsa would be too big a distraction to the workers who slept in the bunkhouse. It should have been heartening to know his friend trusted him around the doctor, but he feared Manu’s trust was misplaced.
A full frown had formed now, creating an irresistible crinkle between her eyes. “Is that a problem?”
With a terse shake of his head, he turned to the bathroom. “No. You just surprised me.” Taking refuge in the bathroom, Grant sought any excuse to flee his bed, but couldn’t think of anything plausible. The last thing he wanted to do was reveal to Zinsa that he planned to steer clear of her, because that would lead to awkward questions. All he could do was bear the situation for however long it lasted. Local news reported the soldiers were close to crippling the uprising, so the war should be over in a matter of weeks. He could survive the ordeal that long. Couldn’t he?
Hurrying through his evening ablutions did little to occupy his thoughts or help him ignore the erection tenting his briefs. He left on his T-s
hirt and shorts, although he normally slept in the nude. When he could put it off no longer, he opened the door and stepped out of the small bathroom, taking a deep breath. Faux courage carried him to his bed, but deserted him when she spoke.
“I don’t want to inconvenience you, Dr. Hayden. I’m sure you don’t usually sleep in the clothes you wore all day.” After a slight pause, her voice seemed to deepen slightly when she spoke again. “I know I don’t.”
Slowly, he turned his head. He saw the tank top and shorts she had worn minutes before folded neatly on a nearby chair. A light sheet covered her from the breasts down, but everything above was bare. She might or might not be sleeping in panties, but she sure wasn’t wearing anything else. He swallowed, at a loss for words.
What could be just a friendly smile, but seemed deliberately sensuous, crossed her face. “Please be comfortable.”
With jerky movements, he looked away from his new roommate in all her glory, barely hidden by the thin sheet that rested so well against the curves of her body. He pulled back the sheet and climbed into his bed, curling on his right side, although he never slept in that position. “I’m comfortable.” As he fumbled for the light without turning back to her, he swore a breathy laugh escaped her.
Chapter Two
With no patients of his own, Grant found himself recruited to assist Zinsa when she reopened her treatment center in its temporary headquarters the next day. Inside an hour of opening for the day, they had a line extending out the door. With nearly one hundred patients awaiting treatment, he wondered how she’d ever coped on her own.
As Grant prepared a syringe with MMR inoculation for the next child waiting, he glanced over at Zinsa, who was palpating the belly of a grizzled old man with a racking cough. “How do you manage all this on your own?”
She spared him a quick look before returning attention to her patient. “I don’t normally. I had two nurses and a physician’s assistant up until a couple of weeks ago. My PA was the first to leave me, returning home to the States. Then both of my nurses quit within days of each other, terrified of the fighting and deciding they needed to be with their families. They were local women, so I hope they’ll come back once they hear the clinic has reopened in a safer area.” A grin flashed across her mouth. “Until then, I’m lucky to have you, Dr. Hayden.”
“Grant,” he said in a low voice, trying to appear offhand with the invitation.
“Grant.” She practically purred his name, conjuring all sorts of illicit images to accompany the breathy repetition. Never before had he liked his name so much as he did right then.
The hours passed quickly, with a multitude of patients streaming in and out of the makeshift clinic. Most required nothing more than simple medication, perhaps a bandage, or just someone to listen, but they ended up with two additional inpatients by the end of the night. In awe, Grant watched Zinsa organize everything, somehow managing to squeeze two more cots into the room.
It was only when they left the clinic to sit outside in the coming twilight, glasses of cold tea in their hands, Grant realized how tired he was. With a groan that was a mix of pain and pleasure, he stretched his kinked back and rotated his neck.
She grinned at him. “You held up like a pro.”
“I don’t know how you do it.” His eyes followed a rivulet of sweat as it streaked down her cleavage, disappearing under her shirt. The sight made his mouth water, and he took a long drink of the tea, hoping to distract himself.
When she leaned back, the new pose emphasized her generous breasts. “I’m not usually going it alone, as I said. There have been times, of course. With a clinic like this, you do the best you can.”
“How did you end up so far away from home, practicing medicine in Mekimba?”
A wistful sigh escaped her. “This is my home.”
He nodded. “I know how you feel. I was four when my parents came here. They were assigned here for four years, but when the term ended…they stayed.” They had stayed for him, knowing his new abilities forced him to live somewhere primitive. His control had been even more tenuous as a child and young teenager. It would have caused panic if they had returned to their home in Boston and he had morphed into a tiger running loose through the city. Blinking, Grant realized he had dropped into silence. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else now.”
“Me either, but this really is my home. I was born here.”
He arched a brow. “How did you acquire the English accent?”
“My father is from London.”
Grant shook his head. “Amazing. You sound like you grew up there, instead of getting a trace from hearing your father speak.”
Sadness clouded her expression. “I did for most of my childhood. Dad came to Mekimba with one of the first missions of the newly established Médecins Sans Frontières—Doctors Without Borders. He met my mother when she came to him for treatment. He says it was love at first sight for both of them.” Her expression changed, becoming seductive. “I come from a long line of that. Dad claims every member of his family has met their partners and fallen in love in an instant.” She grinned. “He says it can either be a gift or a curse, depending on the circumstances.”
Grant chuckled. “A romantic notion.”
Her brow furrowed. “You don’t believe it?”
“Has it happened to you?”
An odd intensity colored her gaze. “Oh yes. Just once.”
“What happened?”
A shrug was her answer before she plunged back into her story. “When the rest of the team left, Dad stayed behind, opened a clinic, married my mother, and I came along within a year.”
“It sounds idyllic.” From her sadness upon beginning her story, he knew it hadn’t stayed that way and had to resist the urge to reach out to offer a comforting hand.
“It probably was.” She set aside the tea she hadn’t drunk from. “I think they were happy here. If Mom hadn’t died in childbirth, along with my baby brother, I’m sure Dad would have stayed in Mekimba forever.”
“I’m sorry.”
Zinsa nodded. “I don’t remember her, but thanks. Anyway, Dad took me to London within three months, and that’s where I grew up. He fed me stories of his time here from the time I can remember.” She waved a hand at the expanse of veld that began just a few yards from the complex of building. “I grew up thinking this was as close to Paradise as I would find on Earth, so it was only natural for me to come here after I finally became a doctor. I opened the clinic, and the rest is history.”
Unable to resist, Grant put his hand over hers. “Has it been everything you hoped for?”
“Mostly.” She turned her head, meeting his eyes directly. “What has been missing seems like it might have been found.”
The words were cryptic, and Grant had the strangest feeling she was talking about him. He dismissed the idea with a shake of his head, knowing wishful thinking when he heard it…or thought it.
Suddenly, Zinsa was on her feet, pulling on his hand until he rose from the steps to stand beside her. “Let’s walk.”
He shook his head, his stiff neck protesting at the motion. “I’m too sore and tired.”
With a lighthearted laugh, she dragged him down the steps. “It will make you feel better. Trust me. After a long day of repetitious motion, there’s nothing better than a walk in the twilight. You’ll stretch your muscles.”
He allowed himself to be dragged forward, more because she hadn’t relinquished his hand than because he really thought a walk would help his tight muscles. His stomach clenched when she settled into step beside him, keeping his hand in hers.
They wandered without a particular destination, just moving from the clearing where the buildings were into the veld. An occasional acacia tree in their path forced them to detour, but the dry grass didn’t reach a high enough level to be more than an inconvenience, even though they both wore sandals.
The companionable silence between them felt natural, and he had no need to break it. Instead, Gran
t let his senses focus on Zinsa—on the levelness of her breathing, which was slowly increasing in rapidity, on the scent of her body, tinged mildly with female arousal, if he wasn’t mistaken, and on the sound of her sandals forging a path through the grass, each of her steps in rhythm with his.
Before he knew it, they had gone quite a distance. When he turned to look behind them, the headquarters of the preserve was a distant blur, the buildings barely discernable. He offered no protest when Zinsa sat on a large rock, breaking the physical connection between them for the first time in probably twenty minutes. Longing for it again, he edged in beside her, his heart racing when his legs touched hers.
Now seemed like the time to talk, but before he could speak, she asked, “How did you end up here?”
“My parents were aid workers—”
Zinsa shook her head. “I meant here at the Natunde Preserve, working as a vet? I’m sure you could have done other things. Modeling, for instance.”
“Oh.” A flush tinged his face, and he hoped the darkening sky hid it. It was ridiculous to be embarrassed by her casual comment. “I don’t think so. I’m more suited to be a vet. I went to university in Mawunyaga, but found the capitol too crowded for my tastes.” Those had been tense years, living in constant fear of losing control. Considering those should have been the most sex-laden years of his life, he had failed miserably, managing to get laid only twice, and not caring overly much for his partner either time. Deep affection was a luxury he couldn’t afford, lest he risk revealing his secret. Since it had left him feeling dirty to not have an emotional attachment with his bed partners, he had opted for a life of near-celibacy. “After I graduated, I looked for a quiet place to work and found the reserve.”
She eyed him thoughtfully. “You’ll never leave Mekimba then?”
He shook his head. “I don’t remember a thing about Boston, and I have no desire to see it. My parents are still here, living in a village a couple of days away. Everything I know is here.”