Did Blake have an identical twin brother who’d been adopted out at birth and had a different name?
One that wore faded jeans and cowboy boots and had his hair tied back in a casual ponytail?
He hadn’t spotted her yet, amongst the dozen or so people settling in here, so maybe she could quietly sneak out while he was busy slotting that memory stick into the computer linked to a data projector. Even as the cowardly thought slipped past, an image filled a large portion of the whiteboard at the front of the room and Sam was transfixed. People around her stopped arranging their notepads and water bottles and the murmur of conversation faded away. They were all staring.
The background of the image were buildings that had been destroyed by an earthquake or explosion, perhaps, and were now a mountain of rubble. Rescuers wearing hard hats and bright vests were dotted over the rubble and in the foreground was a team of people carrying a stretcher. Their faces were streaked with grime and their expressions conveyed a mixture of weariness, determination and satisfaction. In the midst of the horrific destruction, they had found someone alive.
Letters appeared slowly, one by one on the bottom of the image. U. S. A. R. And then words followed rapidly enough to create a sense of urgency. Urban Search and Rescue.
Sam felt herself straightening in her chair.
She was going to be one of those people in a hard hat and high-vis vest. Searching through rubble and triumphantly carrying a survivor away from an unthinkable disaster.
She wasn’t going to be intimidated by anyone.
‘Morning, all.’
The easy grin from their instructor unexpectedly caught Sam’s attention with just as much of an impact as the image had. She hadn’t seen him really smile before, she realised. And, man...it was some smile. Confident. Almost...cheeky?
It advertised charm. No, more than that. It was just confirming something she already knew.
Blake Cooper had charisma.
And, in the space of two words and a smile, he had the total attention of every person in this room.
‘My name’s Blake,’ he told them. ‘I’m an emergency doctor from Sydney but I’ve been involved with USAR for some years now. My mate, Adam, was supposed to be taking this course but he had a little mishap with his mountain bike and he’s off work for a few days with a dislocated shoulder. You’ll have to put up with me, I’m afraid.’
The ripple of laughter, notably from a woman in the front row, suggested that it wouldn’t be a hardship. Blake was still smiling as his gaze travelled over the rest of the room.
The moment he spotted Sam was the moment the smile vanished. He actually froze for a moment as he caught her gaze and the intensity of that eye contact made her forget how to breathe.
Okay...maybe she was a little intimidated.
She wasn’t going to break the eye contact, however. It was Blake who looked away to continue scanning the rest of his audience. It had taken all of a split second. Had she imagined that he’d almost jerked his head to do so?
No. Someone in front of her turned his head to give her a curious glance as Blake started speaking again. A ‘what’s so special about you?’ kind of glance.
‘Welcome,’ Blake was saying. ‘It’s great to see so many people interested in finding out what USAR is all about. You won’t get to the end of this weekend as qualified USAR technicians but you will get a certificate of attendance and you’ll know whether it’s something you’d like to get more involved with. And you will be in a position to be a valuable first responder if you’re ever unlucky enough to find yourself in a disaster situation. As an ice-breaker, let’s go around the room and find out what it is that’s persuaded you to give up a weekend to do this course.’
Sam was in a bit of a disaster situation right now. What was she going to say when it got to her turn? Something along the lines of ‘there’s this guy who thinks he’s going to stop me doing what I want and I’m here to prove he’s wrong’?
The woman in the front row, who’d laughed so appreciatively at the idea of having to ‘put up’ with Blake as an instructor was apparently a paramedic, called Andrea, who wanted to increase her skill set.
There were several people who volunteered with the Red Cross and had decided to do this course together.
The young man who’d turned to look at her, Wayne, and his friend beside him, Sean, were both members of a volunteer, rural firefighting team.
‘We both want to get into the fire service for real,’ Wayne said, ‘and doing this course is a prerequisite for starting the unit standards that we’ll be doing if we get accepted. We thought it would be a good head start.’
‘Good thinking.’ Blake nodded. ‘The competition to get into training programmes like the fire service or ambulance is getting tougher every year. Doing things like this, off your own bat, will definitely give you an extra tick on the check list for suitability.’
His words stayed with Sam as she listened to more people introduce themselves. By the time he nodded at her, she’d come up with something to say.
‘Hi. I’m Sam Braithwaite. I’m an emergency department nurse from Sydney. I’ve already done a lot of postgraduate studies in things like trauma management and resuscitation, and I want to be able to use my skills in a wider field.’
Blake’s smile was tight. ‘You’ve come a long way to do this course, Sam. I hope it lives up to your expectations.’
He was turning away and picking up his laser pointer, clearly intending to get straight into the course overview but Sam hadn’t quite finished what she wanted to say.
‘I liked what you said—about doing a course like this being helpful when it comes to getting chosen for something you really want to be a part of.’ She smiled as she heard the murmur of agreement from the two young men in front of her. ‘I’m sure we’re all hoping you’re right.’
* * *
‘Mmm.’ The sound Blake managed to make in response was merely a polite acknowledgment.
Samantha Braithwaite was here for only one reason that he could think of—to use the course as a stepping stone in her efforts to join the SDR team at Bondi Bayside.
He had to respect her determination and the ability to have identified something that would be a real bonus on her CV as far as the SDR criteria was concerned.
He also had to acknowledge that she couldn’t have known he’d be taking the course.
This was karma. Fate had deemed that he needed punishment for the way he’d responded when she’d asked him about joining the team. There was nothing he could do about this situation but it was...annoying. He’d expected a relaxing weekend doing something easy and suddenly it had become complicated. That smile on her face right now told him just how complicated it was going to be because he was instantly distracted. It was a hopeful smile, accompanied by what looked like a plea from those huge, blue eyes.
He had the power to give her something she clearly wanted very badly.
Looking like that, he was sure that most men would cave instantly. But he wasn’t most men. He turned away, clicking the laser pointer. Part of his brain registered relief that she’d toned down her clothing today, mind you. There were no long, brown legs on display or a frilly, feminine shirt. He’d noticed the practical cargo pants and a plain, loose T-shirt. Her hair wasn’t flowing everywhere, either. It lay in a single plait over her shoulder.
She was still a princess, though. Just in disguise.
‘There are a lot of other factors, of course,’ he added, as he clicked the button. ‘But it’s certainly a good start.’
A new image filled the screen now and lines of text appeared as Blake began to explain what this two-day course was going to cover.
‘USAR is a specialised technical rescue capability,’ he told them. ‘It’s designed for the location and rescue of entrapped people following some kind of structural collapse. Anyone got any idea
s what could cause structural collapse?’
‘Earthquakes,’ Andrea offered. ‘You see USAR teams on the news all the time, getting deployed to big earthquakes.’
She was smiling at him as she spoke and it was impossible to miss the admiration in her eyes. An invitation, even, that he might have found interesting under normal circumstances but not today. It wasn’t remotely appealing when Sam was in the same room and that was annoying, as well. Maybe that was why he smiled back, as he nodded and turned towards Wayne, who’d raised his hand.
‘Floods,’ Wayne said. ‘We get a lot of those in this part of the country. A decent flood will destroy a lot of buildings.’
‘And cyclones.’ Sean nodded. ‘They often go together.’
‘Landslides,’ someone else said.
‘Explosions?’ An older man, Tom, who had a background in Civil Defence, sounded tentative but Blake nodded encouragingly.
‘You’re right. It could be from an industrial accident or, these days unfortunately, it could be due to a terrorist attack. It’s certainly up there on the list of possibilities. Anything else?’
There was a moment’s thoughtful silence and despite himself, Blake’s gaze settled on Sam, who hadn’t contributed.
‘Fire?’
Sean gave Wayne a light punch on his arm. ‘We should have thought of that one,’ he whispered loudly.
Sam blinked. ‘Oh...would that be the responsibility of the fire service rather than a specialised rescue team?’
‘If it involves structural collapse then, yes, USAR could be involved alongside the fire service,’ Blake said. ‘It could be in a high-rise building, perhaps. Or secondary to an earthquake. Or a bush fire that involves dwellings. In fact, that was the last deployment I went on, although that was with a specialist disaster response team rather than a purely USAR unit. Anyway...now that we’ve got a scope of the type of disasters we could be dealing with, let’s have a look at our programme and see what we’ll be covering.’
He put the timetable up on the screen. He’d be taking them through how a scene size-up was done and how to look for potential voids that could indicate the potential for survivors. He’d do a session on structural hazards and hazard mitigation procedures and then they could move onto location techniques and rescue, including shoring for the stabilisation of damaged structures.
‘We’ll cover some basic first aid,’ he finished up, ‘although that’s obviously going to be redundant for some of you.’ He glanced at Andrea, the paramedic, and then towards Sam. ‘Maybe you guys can help me teach that session.’
‘Sure,’ Andrea said. ‘I’d be delighted.’
‘The grand finale will be an opportunity to take part in a training exercise. Members of the USAR team in Brisbane—a lot of whom are firies and paramedics who are working at this base—will be preparing a scene for us at a building supplies dumping ground just out of town. You’ll get to do a line and hail search and a rescue, if you can find anyone alive.’
An excited murmur ran around the room but Blake raised his hand. ‘There’s a lot to get through first,’ he warned. ‘And a test at the end of our classroom time. I won’t be letting anyone on site if I’m not confident that you can keep yourself safe. And I should warn you that it’s going to be physically challenging. And probably dirty.’
His gaze skated past one of the older women from the Red Cross group who was looking worried to the back of the room.
He was expecting Sam to be looking just as disconcerted by the prospect of something physically demanding but he couldn’t have been more wrong. The excitement level in the room might have faded somewhat with his warning but it hadn’t left Sam’s face.
Glowing...that was the only word for it.
If he hadn’t realised just how passionate she was about this, he certainly did now. But it puzzled him.
Why was this so important to her?
Maybe it was him who was feeling disconcerted. Why did it suddenly seem so important that he find the answer to that question?
Because he couldn’t figure out why a princess would actually want to get down and dirty with rescue work?
Because the idea was kind of...hot?
Oh, man...this weekend was going to test his strength of character for resisting temptation big time.
‘Let’s get into it.’ He needed to focus. He picked up a stack of workbooks and began distributing them. ‘We’ll start at the beginning and look at how we size up a scene. You’ll find all the information you’ll need in these books and there’s plenty of space to make your own notes.’
* * *
Sam was getting writer’s cramp well before they had their first, proper break at lunchtime. She intended to memorise everything to ensure that she got a hundred per cent on the test they would be having tomorrow.
Maybe it was actually a good thing that Blake Cooper had unexpectedly ended up being her tutor here. She had two whole days to make sure he knew exactly how committed she was to being part of the SDR. She just had to make sure he also discovered how competent she could be.
She was learning a lot. Viable voids were spaces where surviving victims could be located and rescued from. Structural hazards included falling loose debris, shifting of a debris pile or the dropping of higher components like when a damaged wall buckled under the weight of a roof. Risk management meant staying away from dangerous areas if there was no good reason to be there and limiting the number of people going into a hazardous area or the time they spent in there. Hazards could be reduced by removing debris, using monitors to detect building movement or stabilisation, which was costly in terms of time and resources but necessary in high risk areas when the possibility of extricating victims was also high.
Sam listened avidly, studied diagrams and images, joined in the discussions and wrote endless extra notes. She was totally focused on her learning but that didn’t stop her awareness of their tutor growing with every passing minute and then hour.
It was his quick thinking at first. The way Blake could instantly catch the thread of what someone was trying to say. And his teaching ability—the way he could ask leading questions that led his students to really think about something and understand the theory behind the knowledge.
And then it was the sound of his voice. The casual confidence in the way he spoke and tones that ranged from an amusement bordering on laughter, a sharpness that advertised a keen intelligence to what she could only think of as a deep—and sexy—rumble.
By that afternoon, Sam was acutely aware of every movement of his body as well. He used his hands often when he was describing something and her gaze instantly locked on them at the slightest flicker even as she focused on what he was saying.
Big, strong hands. No jewellery, apart from a heavy-looking watch, although those long fingers could have pulled off a ring and still looked completely masculine, and a leather wristband or something would have looked cool and fitted that maverick, cowboy type of vibe.
There was a point, when Blake was explaining the difference between raker shores used to stabilise the outside of a structure and the vertical shores that were then used to create a safer passage internally, when Sam’s concentration wavered.
Something twisted deep in her belly as she stared at his hands and her brain just had to go and imagine what it would feel like if those hands were touching her body. And then the twist blossomed into such a kick of the most delicious—and, okay—irresistible desire, that she had to close her eyes just for a second.
How on earth had he noticed that?
‘Sam—you want to tell us the difference between a T shore and a double T shore?’
‘Ah...’
Had he guessed what she’d been thinking?
Good grief...how mortifying would that be? It would hand him confirmation of what he thought about her, wouldn’t it? That she was some kind of blonde bimbo who had no
right being here, let alone joining his SDR team.
Fortunately, her brain hadn’t been completely on strike. A lightning-fast glance at her notes and she had her response.
‘A T shore is quick to put up but is only marginally stable. A double T that uses two vertical four-by-four posts plated to the top horizontal one is the most stable spot support.’
‘Hmm...’ He held her gaze for a heartbeat longer. ‘Good.’
Was she imagining a hint of disappointment? Or was it puzzlement? She hadn’t quite figured out what it meant when Blake rubbed the back of his neck like that. She was, unconsciously, building a library of his body movements, though. She could see the way he hitched one hip onto the edge of a desk when he was settling in to make sure his students understood exactly what he was trying to teach. Did he realise how he could encourage people to get to the right answer by the way he moved his eyebrows? And as for the way the tip of tongue appeared to dampen his lips when his enthusiasm was sparked by listening to a question...
Phew...
By the time the intensive, theoretical day had ended, Sam was a curious mix of being both tired and wired. And the buzz wasn’t just from all the fascinating information she had absorbed. No. Sam knew perfectly well that the escalating attraction to Blake Cooper had to be responsible for a large part of that buzz.
Lunch had been provided during course time but dinner wasn’t. Wayne suggested that the class go to a pizza restaurant within easy walking distance and there was widespread enthusiasm from all the participants that didn’t have to get back to family commitments.
‘Blake?’ he asked. ‘You wanna come and have some pizza and a beer with us?’
Sam deliberately didn’t look up as she stuffed her workbook and pens into her shoulder bag.
She wanted him to come because that would mean more time being aware of that attraction and...and how alive it made her feel.
The Shy Nurse's Rebel Doc Page 6