“When we land in Santigo, I’ll show you around. I’m very familiar with the people of the country. They think of me as a savior,” he preened.
“That’s nice,” she lied. He was so arrogant and self-important, two of her least favorite traits in a person. She doubted the people of Santigo thought of him as anything other than annoying.
“Where’ve you been assigned?”
Would it be rude to tell him it was none of his business? “Manos Curativas.”
“Ah, my favorite hospital. It means helping hands.”
Again, would it be rude to point out that she was fluent in Spanish and knew this already? This was her first assignment with Doctors International and she didn’t want to alienate the executives, but when Donald clamped his hand around her thigh and it drifted upward, she’d had enough.
She grabbed his hand and relished the moment when his eyes closed in pain as she applied pressure to the trigger points. A thumb tap, as it was more commonly called, didn’t render a person unconscious, but it elicited a unique pain that made the person extremely uncomfortable.
She released the hold and took immense satisfaction when he grimaced and rubbed at his hand. “Whatever,” he mumbled before grabbing his bag and bolting from the seat, shooting her a disgruntled look before finding an empty space next to one of the nurses making the trip. Amelia felt sorry for the brunette who was now squarely in Donald’s sights. Actually, scratch that. She didn’t pity the woman who batted her eyes and smiled coquettishly at Donald. Yuck.
Closing her eyes, she conjured Wyatt’s image as he taught her the thumb tap. She’d practiced on him and even though she knew the pressure was uncomfortable, he refused to show a reaction. Tough. Strong. Sexy. It was no wonder she’d fallen hard for Wyatt Hollister.
#
Amelia stared out the window at the dense canopy of trees below. Most of Santigo was covered by rainforests. The small nation located close to the Amazon had fought hard for its independence and was now struggling for survival against aggressive drug cartels that were overtaking the country. Rich in coca plants used to make cocaine, Santigo had quickly become a hotbed of criminal activity.
Suddenly a hole opened in the trees and they were descending onto a cracked, neglected landing strip surrounded by dirt on either side. The airport in this part of Santigo was seriously lacking. They’d flown over the capital of Meseta but bypassed the larger airport for one closer to the dense rainforests and the locations of the hospitals where they’d be spending the next few weeks tending to locals.
She didn’t breathe until the wheels touched down and they taxied to a stop next to a large metal building she assumed was the airport. After grabbing her bag, she thanked the pilot as she passed the cockpit and followed the other passengers down the steps. Several people were waiting beside two ancient Jeeps when they disembarked.
“Dr. Howell?”
She nodded and then bid goodbye to the other doctors and nurses who were being led to the vehicles. She smiled at the tall African American woman who strode forward to shake her hand. “My name is Ieshia Dorsey. I’m the head nurse at Manos Curativas.” She turned and introduced the two women behind her. “This is Jody Rigsby and Marin Martinez. Jody and Marin are registered nurses. Jody works with me full-time. Marin is stationed with us for a short time through Doctors International as well.”
From orientation, Amelia learned that doctors and nurses were rotated out at different intervals so that there were always two people in the hospitals who were up to speed. Each facility had one head nurse who was permanent. Manos Curativas was the only one that had two full-time residents.
Amelia shook their hands, noting that while Jody seemed guarded and reserved, Marin was outgoing and friendly. Ieshia seemed eminently competent, putting Amelia at ease. She could get along with most people, but it would make her job easier if the personnel around her were skilled.
“The other hospitals are much further away, making transportation necessary.” Ieshia indicated the other medical teams loading into the waiting Jeeps. “We’re located about three kilometers away. We do have an all-terrain vehicle but it’s currently out of service. We’re waiting on a replacement. Until then, we walk.” Ieshia glanced at Amelia’s shoes. “Good. It looks like you came prepared for a hike.”
“I did.” She’d purchased a sturdy pair of hiking boots before the trip and wore them as much as possible to break them in. She didn’t want to risk blisters or any type of open sore that might attract nasty parasites. The clothes she’d brought had been chosen for comfort as well.
After Amelia collected her suitcase, she followed the other women down a well-worn path.
Marin came up beside her. “I love your hair, Dr. Howell. The color is so pretty. It’s like golden spun silk.”
“Thanks, and please, call me Amelia.”
“Where are you from, Amelia?”
“Bloomington, Indiana. What about you?”
“Las Cruces, New Mexico,” Marin answered. “Coming on the mission was a whim,” she confessed. “I’d just endured a bad breakup and wanted a change of scenery for a while.” Marin’s lips twisted. “He’s a doctor and having to see him every day at work was excruciating.” She inhaled and glanced around at the trees and vegetation. “This has been life-changing.”
Amelia was going through a life change too with her new job, but she didn’t sign up to get away from anything at home. She did it to give back. She’d been blessed in life with a wonderful family and educational opportunities and wanted to use her skills to help others. She volunteered at a free clinic for the homeless back home and intended to continue once she started her job with COBRA Securities.
“And in case you’re wondering, we do have cell service at the hospital. I think I’d positively die if I couldn’t keep up with what was happening back home,” she said dramatically. “But the reception window is narrow, and they don’t work once you’re away from the building.”
She did know that they would be able to use their cell phones, and also that the clinic featured electricity and running water, thanks to the efforts of Doctors International making sure each facility had all the equipment and supplies they needed.
She’d overdressed for the plane because she always seemed to freeze on flights. Now she was regretting the jacket as a muggy punch of humidity caused her to sweat. The other women didn’t seem affected, but they were probably used to the temps. Plus, they weren’t carrying luggage.
She also wished she’d taken the time to find her hat as the sun burned hotter south of the equator. Thankfully most of the trek was through the trees, but then she started to worry about ticks or other sketchy things that might drop from the branches into her hair.
She was relieved when a building appeared in the distance. The walls were constructed of wood and painted white with a thatched roof that extended over a porch. The large red cross painted on the black door made it recognizable as a hospital. Her cell beeped in her pocket, indicating they’d entered the narrow reception window Marin told her about.
The front of the hospital was beautifully landscaped with flowering shrubs and bushes. Tree stumps lined a walkway made from stone pavers. Two steps led to the porch with a ramp off to one side. There was even a bench made of wood and a decorative bird bath.
“This is wonderful,” she told Ieshia.
The woman smiled. “Thanks. Since I live here year around, I wanted to make it as homey as possible.”
While the women filed into the building, she fished out her phone to discover she had two text messages waiting for her. She checked the first one from her best friend Maggie, who wanted her to text as soon as she landed so she’d know she arrived safely. After snapping a selfie in front of the hospital, she fired off a quick message, promising to call once she was settled. The next was from Wyatt, the subject of her naughty dreams. He, too, wanted her to let him know when she arrived.
Her feelings for Wyatt were inconvenient. Yes, he was heroic and brave, b
ut so were all the men and women who worked for COBRA Securities. She’d never felt the tingling awareness, the sexual pull for any of the other men. Only Wyatt. She needed to learn to control them since they’d be working together now.
After waging an internal battle with herself, she forwarded the same snap to him, letting him know she’d made it to Santigo safely.
Her phone beeped two incoming texts simultaneously. Maggie’s popped up first. She’d included a selfie, too. The message ordered her to keep in regular contact. She assumed Mags was ordering her since she’d scrunched her face into a stern look, and she’d used all capital letters on the message. Wyatt’s text said the same, to keep in regular touch, but there was no yelling from him. And no selfie.
Was she disappointed that he hadn’t included a photo of himself? Yes, dammit, she was disgruntled. She scrolled to her saved pictures and found the shots she’d taken of him before she left. The one where he was sleeping, his face relaxed in slumber and his light-colored lashes resting on his chiseled cheeks with his glorious chest and ripped abs on display was her favorite. She’d felt like a voyeur when she shamelessly snapped the pic, but she was glad now that she had. He made her heart race.
“Amelia?”
Her head shot up from her phone to see Marin gazing at her curiously.
#
Reclining on his bed, Wyatt Hollister stared at the picture Dr. Amelia Howell just texted him. She was standing in front of a building with a giant red cross painted on the door. The hospital, he assumed. Sunglasses covered sky blue eyes, but her golden hair shone like a beacon, appearing almost white in the Santigo sunlight. God, she was amazing.
Dropping the phone to his chest, he shoved a hand behind his head and stared at the ceiling. She’d be gone for weeks. He couldn’t even fault her because what she was doing was incredibly noble. Using her expertise to tend to the sick in a country with little resources was just the kind of remarkable thing Amelia would do. She gave freely of herself to everyone, never asking for anything in return. She volunteered at a free clinic for the homeless and was always the first to step forward when someone needed help.
They’d been almost constant companions the last few weeks after he’d been hurt. His list of injuries had been long, from a collapsed lung, concussion, several deep thrombosis, a cracked tailbone, internal bleeding to cuts and scrapes. Thankfully, none of the injuries had been serious in his opinion, but combined, they were enough to sideline him and sap him of his strength and energy. The cracked tailbone was the worst, forcing him to walk with a cane to avoid putting pressure on the area.
Amelia patched him up and then set about to rehabilitate him. She’d put him through a physical therapy routine that had almost finished the job the bombers started and killed him right good. When he wasn’t plotting her demise, he was fantasizing about ripping off the colorful scrubs she preferred and making love to her until neither of them could walk or talk or, hell, breathe.
Most nights, he woke up painfully aroused after erotic dreams of the two of them burning up the sheets. She was so passionate about her job, he knew she’d be just as enthusiastic in bed. How many times had he reached for her before remembering she was his doctor?
Maybe he had Stockholm Syndrome or whatever it was called when a patient fell in love with their caregiver. It hadn’t happened overnight. He’d been crushing on the beautiful medic from the first time he’d spotted her when he’d been a newbie and she’d stopped by to visit her friend, Maggie. He was pretty sure his tongue hit the floor and stayed there over the years whenever she was around.
Though he wasn’t proud of using underhanded tactics, he might’ve overstated some of the pain he was feeling so she’d tend to him. He wanted her near. Period.
He never thought he’d feel this way about a woman again after his ex-fiancée Aimee ripped his heart out of his chest and handed it to him on a platter. It was a cliché as old as time. Several of his coworkers shared the same experience. Man goes off to fight wars, woman gets bored, woman screws around on man. While he was away serving his country, Aimee was home servicing his best bloke. That she’d cheated on him with Timothy was a double whammy.
He’d finagled leave to surprise her, but he was the one who’d been shocked to find the two in bed together—his bed no less. He didn’t feel the least bit guilty for kicking them out buck naked. Oh, he did toss their clothes out after them. He wasn’t completely heartless. It wasn’t his fault some teens had been outside and they captured the event on their phones. At least Aimee had been able to cover her naughty bits. Timothy hadn’t fared as well.
Looking back, he could admit that he hadn’t really loved Aimee. Not the soul-deep, happily ever after kind of love. He’d been infatuated with her. Definitely in lust with her. But with time and distance, he realized those feelings didn’t translate into everlasting love. In fact, he didn’t miss her at all. He did, however, miss Timothy. They’d been pals since they both ran around the neighborhood in nappies. But he’d crossed a line and didn’t have the balls to tell Wyatt himself. An unforgivable sin, as far as he was concerned.
As soon as he closed the door on the two, he’d called the apartment manager to change the locks and a company to pack his belongings and stash them in storage. He returned to duty and a couple of months later when his Initial Minimum Period of Service was up with the Royal Australian Air Force, he’d kissed his mum goodbye and hopped on a plane bound for the States. He hadn’t seen Aimee since. She tried getting in touch with him, sending emails, texts and phone messages. He deleted every single one. She’d even tried going through his mum, but she was his staunchest defender. When she found out what Aimee had done, she’d in no uncertain terms, told her to bugger off. As far as he was concerned, she’d ended their relationship with her infidelity. She’d finally gotten the not-so-subtle hint and the messages stopped.
The offer to join COBRA Securities had come at the perfect time. And he couldn’t imagine working with a better group of people, more friends than coworkers. He knew for a fact that not one of the men he worked with would put the moves on his or anyone’s woman. They all possessed integrity and honor. The same couldn’t be said about that wanker Timothy.
Aimee might not have broken his heart, but she made him gun-shy with women. In the years since, most of his encounters were limited to one or two nights. A couple had lasted a long weekend, and one extended to a week of carnal fun, but he refused to put himself out there again and risk his heart.
Until Amelia.
The next few weeks without her would seem endless. His injuries had improved significantly, to the point where he could return to the field if the bosses would let him. They wouldn’t until Amelia signed off on his recovery and she wouldn’t be able to do that until she returned. Ergo, he was on a forced extended leave. He hated it.
He could visit rellys in Sydney, he supposed. He hadn’t been back to see them in a few months. His pops died when he was a teen, but his mum remarried. He didn’t have siblings, but he did have two younger stepbrothers who adored him, and who wouldn’t? He chuckled. He had buddies he could visit. Not Timothy. A pint or two to consume.
Maybe that’s what he needed. To take a vacay and get away from the temptation of sneaking along with one of his coworkers on an assignment. He might go stir crazy with nothing to do but workout and watch TV. He wasn’t even allowed to participate in war games, and it wasn’t because Amelia didn’t want him to—though she didn’t. No, it was because his overprotective coworkers didn’t want to hurt him. As his little buddy Kai would say, whatevs. Crikey, he wasn’t some pansy ass bludger who needed coddled. Protecting people was his job.
It was settled. He’d let the bosses know he was taking off for some rest and relaxation away from home. Maybe he’d be able to put all thoughts of stripping the delectable doctor down to her birthday suit out of his head by the time he returned.
Chapter Two
Amelia thumbed the screen closed and slid the cell phone in her pocket. She
wasn’t prepared to answer any questions Marin might have about Wyatt. Mostly because she didn’t have any answers. She went on the offensive. “How about giving me the tour of the hospital?”
“Oh, sure. Follow me.”
Amelia picked up the handle of her suitcase and entered the building behind Marin, pleased to realize the hospital had air conditioning when a blast of cool air washed over her. A long counter separated the entry from a large open area with two desks along each wall. In the center were stations for treating minor injuries or performing routine examinations.
Ieshia sat at a desk talking on the phone, while across the room, Jody was hunched over her cell, her thumbs flying over the buttons.
“This is your station.” Marin indicated the metal desk next to Ieshia. “You’ll find a list with the internet password and important phone numbers in the top drawer.”
Amelia rolled her suitcase to a stop and placed her messenger bag on the chair. She fired up the laptop. From orientation, she learned that several companies around the world partnered with Doctors International to provide equipment and supplies to the charity. The computers were the latest models, courtesy of a global tech giant.
“Ready for the rest of the tour?”
“Sure.” She popped the pull handle and rolled her luggage behind her.
Marin pushed open a swinging door. “Through here is the operating room. We try to keep it as sterile as possible, which isn’t easy in the middle of a jungle, as you can imagine.”
The room was small but Doctors International didn’t skimp on equipment. She spotted an autoclave sterilization machine in the corner where surgical instruments were exposed to saturated steam under high pressure for decontamination and to kill harmful bacteria. Excellent.
Marin didn’t give her time to catalogue all the equipment, so she’d come back later and familiarize herself with the setup. She wanted to be prepared in case an emergency arose and she needed to operate. Even a small delay could mean the difference between life or death.
Without a Trace (COBRA Securities Book 18) Page 2