by Joan Hohl
“The doctor and the crew came by military jet from the States, and the helicopter came from Israel.” A self-satisfied smile shadowed her lips. “Dr. Andrews asked me to make the arrangements. I’m the one who told them he needed a break as badly as you.”
Becca wanted to laugh. Instead she started crying all over again, which brought on a fit of coughing. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed, accepting another tissue to blow her nose. “But…I feel so, so…”
“I know,” Shakana said, her smile now soft, gentle. “I want to cry with you.”
“You’d better not,” Becca cautioned, trying to sniff and smile at the same time. “What would those guys on the team think, finding two blubbering women when they come for me?” She felt the tears well again, and impatiently swiped her hand over her cheeks. “I’m over it,” she said, drawing a breath and sighing. “Resigned to going.”
“It really is best for you, Becca. I can’t tell you how very concerned I, as well as all the people in the village, have been about you.”
“They’ve all noticed me slowing down, I suppose.”
“No, you haven’t slowed down, that’s your problem,” her friend answered. “We’ve all noticed you dwindling down, week after week.”
Becca coughed again, on the tears clogging her throat, she figured. “I love them, Shak.”
The other woman’s smile was warm with affection. “I know. We all love you back.”
Fortunately for Becca, she was saved from completely breaking down by the rescue team returning to collect her. She squeezed Shakana’s hand, hard, as if afraid of letting go.
Shakana squeezed back. “I can’t walk with you to the plane. I must get back to work.” She hesitated, tears beginning to seep down her face. “Get well soon, Becca. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” Becca was crying again. “I’ll be in touch online,” she promised, reluctantly releasing her hand.
“You’d better.” Shakana was openly crying now. “Goodbye, Becca.” She stepped back to let the men move into place at the litter.
Miserable, hating Seth Andrews, she waved goodbye to the people crowded outside the hospital and along the road to the small airfield where a large rescue helicopter sat waiting. She never noticed the two photographers in the midst of the people, snapping away as she passed by.
Dr. Andrews was already in the chopper, looking angry and disgusted. Becca hoped he hadn’t found out Shakana had been the one to turn him in…so to speak.
Within minutes, the experienced crew had settled her comfortably inside the craft. Not wanting to look at Seth’s grim expression, she closed her eyes and turned her head away.
They made two stops en route, one in Israel where she was given a light meal of broth and coffee. From Israel, they were flown by jet to a military base in Germany. While there, Becca learned there had been a discussion on whether or not to fly her and the doctor straight home to the U.S. or hospitalize them there overnight.
At the time, tired, not caring about anything, Becca had no idea who made the decision to fly directly back to the States. Without argument, she ate the light meal she was offered and drank the vitamin-enriched drink handed to her. When finished she settled back and closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was sleep.
And sleep she did, deeply. She roused as the large plane began its descent at another military base near Philadelphia.
Having turned in her sleep, the first thing Becca saw when she opened her eyes was Seth Andrews. He was sound asleep, and asleep he looked like an altogether different man. Though still haggard, in repose the sharp features of his face appeared softer and younger. His enviably long dark lashes blended in with the darkness underlying his eyes.
He looked approachable.
Uh, yeah, Becca chided her fanciful thoughts. She knew better than most how very unapproachable Seth Andrews really was. The term sleeping tiger sprang to her mind, causing a frown to crease her brow.
The plane’s wheels touched down. His eyes sprang open, and he appeared ready to spring to his feet.
“We’re landing,” she said, her voice rough from her dry throat.
“So I see.” He stared at her, hard. “How are you feeling, Rebecca?”
“About as good as anyone after making such a long flight,” she answered. “What about you, Doctor? Oh, and everyone calls me Becca,” she added, as if he hadn’t known that since the first day they had met.
“Matter of fact, Becca, I feel lousy,” he admitted, to her surprise. “And, my name, as you well know, is Seth.” This statement surprised her even more. “And whether or not you knew it, you were coughing in your sleep.”
“I didn’t know it.” Not about to call him by name, she eyed him warily. The plane was taxiing, somewhere. “Where do we go from here, do you know?”
He nodded wearily. “Yeah. We’ll be ambulanced to the U. of P. hospital.”
“But…” she protested. “I want to go home. I don’t want to go to another hospital.”
“Too bad, because you’re going.” His voice was adamant.
“But…” she began again.
The door of the plane was opened. Hot air rushed into the interior, reminding Becca it was nearing the end of summer in the northeast.
“Save your objections, Becca.” He grimaced. “I don’t want to go, either. But we’re under orders.”
“Orders—whose orders?”
The latest crew was coming for them to deplane.
“The head honcho of the hospital,” he answered, as she was lifted onto an ambulance gurney. “He wants a complete workup on both of us.”
Becca caught the last of his words as she was lowered from the plane.
Damn, she thought, she wanted to go home.
Seth was in a foul mood, not at all happy with the situation. Dammit! He’d screwed up everything. All he had wanted was to get Rebecca out of Africa for her own good.
She coughed as they were sliding the gurney into the ambulance. He frowned. He didn’t at all like the sound of that cough. He should have requested rescue for her sooner, even if he had known the administrator of the University of Pennsylvania Hospital would conclude if Rebecca needed to be sent home, in all probability Seth needed a break as well.
Seth had been on staff at the U. of P. for a couple of years before Rebecca had come to work at the hospital. She was one of the best nurses with whom he had ever worked.
She was one of the most lovely and appealing, too. He had felt an attraction to her almost at once—an attraction both physical and emotional that Seth told himself he neither needed nor wanted.
That being the case, he deliberately constructed an invisible shield around himself, a facade of cool detachment and disinterest. Yet, no matter how hard he fought it, the attraction grew stronger. He even tried blaming her, but that wouldn’t wash, even to himself, because in all truth, Rebecca had always been efficient, withdrawn and every bit as cool, if not more so.
He hadn’t gone to Africa because of her. He was in line to take over for the doctor there within the year she had started at the hospital. But he was relieved when the notice came for him to clear his schedule in preparation for going.
But putting distance between himself and Rebecca hadn’t changed his feelings for her in the least. They had grown stronger; he missed her next to him in the O.R., cool detachment or not.
And then, a month after he had arrived in Africa, Becca had shown up to work with him.
He wanted…wanted… Well, he sighed, it didn’t matter what he wanted.
Rebecca obviously didn’t want anything, especially from him.
So, here he was, back in the States, with her and still so far away.
Life sucked.
Two
T wo days later, Becca was still in the hospital, in bed, with pneumonia. Her cough had subsided, and yet she still felt weak. As much as she hated to admit it, if only to herself, Dr. Andrews was right in having her shipped home. And she had no intention of admitting it aloud, espe
cially to him.
Seth.
His name swirled inside her mind, along with an image of him as he had looked the last time she had seen him, right before the attendants had slid her gurney into the ambulance.
He hadn’t looked good. Becca couldn’t help but wonder if he also had pneumonia, or was simply exhausted. Either case was worrisome. It didn’t fit with the image she carried in that secret place in her heart.
To Becca, Seth Andrews was the most attractive and sexy man she had ever met. Over six feet tall, lean and rangy, although not as lean as he had grown lately, he exuded a calm self-confidence and a raw sensuality. Becca couldn’t have missed the hungry glances he’d received from the other nurses, as well as female doctors, merely by walking along a hospital corridor or stopping by a nurses’ station.
And he was the only man she had ever seen with dark-amber eyes. Too bad those eyes never glanced at her with anything other than irritation or impatience.
Becca sighed, thinking it was also too bad she had felt, if not actual love, then a deep infatuation.
She sighed again, afraid the emotion was the former and not the more personally acceptable latter. One hopefully recovered more quickly from infatuation.
Into her disquieting thoughts, Becca was unaware of someone entering the room, until a familiar voice jarred her alert.
“Are you awake?”
Trying to contain the shiver dancing down her spine, Becca reluctantly opened her eyes.
“Yes, I’m awake.” She was rather proud of the calm tone she had managed, considering he looked better if not completely well. He had had his hair trimmed, and the wavy mass gleamed in the sunlight that poured into the room.
“How are you feeling?” Coming to a stop beside the bed, he lifted her wrist to take her pulse.
“Rested, a bit stronger,” she said, thinking she felt strong enough to gobble him up with a spoon. Shocked by the thought, she quickly asked, “How are you feeling?”
Seth was staring at her blood pressure and heart rate monitor. “A lot better,” he said, frowning as he slid his glance from the screen to her face. “Your pulse and heart rate are a little rapid.”
Damn. Becca blurted out the first thought to zip through her mind. “I was dozing. You startled me.” She held her breath, wondering, hoping he bought her excuse.
“That explains it then.” He shot another look at the screen. “Heart rate’s leveling.” With a flourish, he waved a newspaper in his left hand that she had failed to notice because of her focus on him. “You’ve made the headlines.”
Becca blinked. The headlines? What…? She frowned “I don’t understand.”
“You’re a celebrity,” he said, holding the paper up so she could see the article. “At least, you’re one below the fold.” He handed the folded paper to her, the bottom half displayed.
There it was, under the heading of the article, her name and a picture of her being carried to the helicopter on the litter.
Pennsylvania Nurse a Heroine in Africa
Becca quickly scanned the article, then went back to reread it more carefully. The contents described in detail her experience, both in nursing before volunteering to go to that small village in Africa, and her service there until she was airlifted home, exhausted and ill. When she had finished reading it the second time, she looked up at Seth Andrews in bewilderment.
“Where?” Shaking her head, she frowned. “How? Why? Who?” Becca’s voice shook with emotion. She didn’t consider herself any kind of heroine.
“I don’t know who gave out the story,” he said, anger edging his voice. “I had asked Shakana to request the transport.” A small, cynical smile touched his tight lips. “I now realize she ratted me out, but I find it hard to believe she would have alerted the media, as they say, about you and your condition.”
“No, she wouldn’t have,” Becca said with absolute conviction. “Shakana and I are friends.”
“I am and was always well aware of that,” he said in a soothing tone, because it had to be obvious she was very upset. “No, it was either leaked here or at the jumping-off site in Israel.”
“But the picture was obviously taken in Africa, as I was being lifted onto the helicopter.” Becca frowned. “Where did the photographers come from?”
Seth shrugged. “Who knows? It seems these days they are everywhere.”
Her frown deepening, Becca looked at the paper again. “I don’t like this. I’m not brave. I’m not a heroine.” Her voice rose as she slipped into a full rant. “They had no right…now I know how celebrities feel. It’s an invasion of privacy, my privacy—”
“Becca…” His voice was low, soothing. It didn’t stop her flow of angry words.
“I feel foolish. I’m a nurse, dammit! Nurses are supposed to care for people. If I’m a heroine, then every nurse in the world doing their job is a heroine. I…”
“Becca,” he repeated, his voice stronger, almost commanding. She appeared not to hear him.
“I want a retraction,” she railed on. “Or at the least, recognition of the good work being done by nurses everywhere.” She finally paused to draw breath. Seth struck before she could say another word.
He shut her up very effectively by bending over the bed and covering her mouth with his own.
Becca went stiff at the gentle touch of his lips on hers. Giving a half sigh, half groan, he deepened the kiss as his lips went firm, draining the stiffness from her body and infusing softening warmth.
Becca’s body melted against his chest.
Seth slid his arms beneath her to lift her, holding her closer to his hard body.
Her head spinning with sensations, Becca raised her trembling hands to grasp his shoulders, clinging to him, lost in the wonder of the shiver-inducing heat of his mouth, the flicking touch of the tip of tongue. His mouth was demanding, his tongue tormenting.
Within an instant she was hot, burning for him with all the secret passion locked inside her. Tightening her grasp on his arms, she arched in need of getting closer, closer to the heat radiating from him.
A soft cry escaped her when he released her mouth and drew back.
“I’m sorry,” Seth said, his voice harsh, his expression stern. Shaking his head, he stepped away from the bed. “That won’t happen again.” A wry smile eased his tight expression. “It was the only way I could think of to shut you up.”
He had kissed her to shut her up? Appalled by his reasoning, Becca could do no more than stare at him.
“You were getting too worked up over the newspaper article. It wasn’t good for you in your condition.”
And being kissed like there was no tomorrow was good for her? Becca wondered. Blinking in confusion, she refused to recognize or let the tears stinging her eyes fall.
“I’m tired.” It was all she could think of to say to him. “I’d like to rest now.” There was no way she would admit to him her utter devastation.
For an instant, he looked as if he wanted to say something, then he shrugged and turned away. When he reached the doorway, he glanced back at her. “I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow morning.”
Becca wanted to protest, call out to him not to stop by, but it was too late. He was gone. She could picture him, striding down the corridor, utterly unaware of the tentative smiles and longing glances sent his way.
Calmer now that Seth was out of the room, Becca replayed in her mind those few magical moments he had held her in his arms, and taken command of her mouth.
She sighed with the same kind of longing so many other women felt for him. And she had thought to call him back, tell him not to stop by the next morning? Ha! She couldn’t wait to see him again…fool that she was!
The next moment, Becca frowned. She couldn’t believe he had actually explained away his kissing her as the only way he could think of to shut her up. That had to be the most overused, clichéd line in romance fiction. Either the man secretly read too many romance novels, which she seriously doubted, or he had never read any,
which she felt certain was the case.
Poor Seth. He didn’t even realize he was clichéd and outdated with his approach with women.
Becca couldn’t control a small smile at the thought. The sizzling way he kissed, Seth didn’t have to worry about his statements being outdated. Hell, he really didn’t need to speak at all.
Drowsily, Becca savored the lingering taste of Seth on her lips. His tongue had done a thorough job of teasing the inside of her mouth. The memory triggered a shivery sensation on every nerve ending in her overheated body.
What would making love with him be like?
She quivered at the very idea, before pulling herself together. Get a grip on your imagination, Rebecca, she chided herself in frustration.
Seth Andrews is not interested in you in any personal way. She grimaced. Matter of fact, he very likely did kiss you to shut you up!
Damn you. Standing in the corridor not far from Rebecca’s room, Seth berated himself for the third, or maybe the fourth time since walking out moments ago. He stared at her chart, as if studying her stats.
What in the world had he been thinking, kissing her the way he had? Admitting to himself he had kissed her because he had wanted to for so long, Seth refused to excuse himself for acting so precipitously. He had had no right to simply grab her and kiss her.
Oh, but she had tasted so good, even with the hint of coffee on her tongue. He had wanted to taste her ever since she had become a member of his surgical team.
And now he had…and almost wished he hadn’t. Becca had tasted like heaven, and Seth wanted another taste. No, he wanted to own her mouth, have it for himself alone, have her for himself, all to himself.
The mere thought of having Becca, making love to her, shot tongues of fire through Seth’s body, directly to the most vulnerable part of his being.
A shudder of hungry desire brought Seth to his senses, to what he was and where he was.
He was a doctor, a surgeon, standing in the hospital corridor fiercely aching for a woman…no, not just any woman, a certain woman.
