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Tempted By The Brooding Surgeon
Robin Gianna


The one man who won’t let her in……is the only man she wants!Annabelle Richards arrives in Peru to find she’ll be working with renowned surgeon, Daniel Ferrera – the man who almost ruined her career! She’s worked too hard to let him get in her way again. But when Annabel learns that Daniel’s brooding exterior hides a wealth of pain, an unexpected passion ignites between them. Will temptation prove too much to resist?







The one man who won’t let her in...

...is the only man she wants!

Annabelle Richards arrives in Peru to find she’ll be working with renowned surgeon Daniel Ferrera—the man who almost ruined her career! She’s worked too hard to let him get in her way again. But when Annabelle learns that Daniel’s brooding exterior hides a wealth of pain, an unexpected passion ignites between them. Will temptation prove too much to resist?


After completing a degree in journalism, then working in advertising and mothering her kids, ROBIN GIANNA had what she calls her ‘awakening’. She decided she wanted to write the romance novels she’d loved since her teens, and now enjoys pushing her characters towards their own happily-ever-afters. When she’s not writing Robin fills her life with a happily messy kitchen, a needy garden, a wonderful husband, three great kids, a drooling bulldog and one grouchy Siamese cat.


Also by Robin Gianna

Changed by His Son’s Smile

The Last Temptation of Dr Dalton

Flirting with Dr Off-Limits

It Happened in Paris…

Her Greek Doctor’s Proposal

Her Christmas Baby Bump

The Prince and the Midwife

Reunited with His Runaway Bride

Baby Surprise for the Doctor Prince

The Spanish Duke’s Holiday Proposal

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon

Robin Gianna






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07509-1

TEMPTED BY THE BROODING SURGEON

© 2018 Robin Gianakopoulos

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


I’d like to thank Julie Niezgoda, MD, for her tremendous help as I learned about the medical missions she’s participated in. She gave me heaps of helpful details about what’s involved in paediatric anaesthesia and surgeries on those missions, which are often done with much less equipment than modern hospitals provide.

Appreciate it so much, Julie!

Smooches! xoxo


Contents

Cover (#u9d6e04f8-fcf2-5785-a236-b8afae053925)

Back Cover Text (#u99e75767-a52e-579e-a828-87a7c1fac29f)

About the Author (#u32a64139-fe3d-5c70-999b-5a3968d127f2)

Booklist (#u89a2dc77-49df-5d6b-9d5e-124ba189ceba)

Title Page (#u99970c76-2862-516f-8dcd-c9145bf60aed)

Copyright (#ud87cd562-6d85-557d-9077-d90fb8e1e03e)

Dedication (#ubaf86675-c605-569c-b8ca-ebd4982d94ed)

CHAPTER ONE (#ub7e01390-7a11-5acb-ac87-20580ab1cddb)

CHAPTER TWO (#u75444286-3fec-5fcd-bbc4-3555ef1af9de)

CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u5048f38e-39c2-5148-aabf-c4fe303b5021)

WHAT CAN GO wrong will go wrong.

Annabelle Richards had no idea who’d said that first but, boy, they sure were right. What should have been a ten-hour flight from Chicago to Lima, Peru, then another hour and a half travel to the mission hospital, had turned into a forty-eight-hour delay. She was finally in the back of a taxi, dead tired from lack of sleep and running late for what should have been the second day of her posting at the hospital but was now day one because of her delays. She was scheduled to start at 8:00 a.m. Just seven minutes away.

She leaned forward to ask the taxi driver the same question she’d already asked a dozen times. “Are we close?”

“Sí. Soon, señorita. Short minutes more.”

Annabelle tried to relax back into the vinyl seat of the dusty cab, but the tightness in her gut kept her sitting upright. The entire surgical team was likely already annoyed, her lateness interrupting their carefully designed schedule and putting everyone behind on attending to all the patients they’d hoped to see. She could only pray that the first surgery scheduled this morning wasn’t something life-threatening.

What if someone died because she wasn’t there in time to get them anesthetized and intubated? What if one of their small patients had gotten sicker yesterday while they’d waited for her, making today’s surgeries even more serious?

How had everything gone so wrong all at the same time?

First, the transport monitor she’d worked months to have donated for this trip had gotten locked into a storage room that no one had seemed to have the key for. A frantic hour had gone by before she’d finally retrieved it, then torn to the airport, panicking that she’d miss her flight. Which, of course, she had. Then weather delays and missed connections added to the disaster.

Looking back, it was all her own stupid fault for being so determined to bring the monitor, instead of having it shipped. Except the whole reason she’d waited around to get it was because the last time she was here, a tiny premature baby had almost died without a monitor to check his heart rate and other vital signs.

She could only hope that missing a day of surgeries because of it hadn’t resulted in a child dying anyway.

She scrubbed her hands down her cheeks, her nerves practically screaming with the need to finally get to the clinic. Being physically there and on time was more important than equipment any day.

Hadn’t she been told more than once that her dog-with-a-bone determination got her into trouble sometimes? This sure was one of those times, and the trouble just kept coming. The huge delay had meant she’d also missed her meeting at the hospital in Lima. A beyond important meeting that might have saved her old school from being shut down in a matter of months. And now her dream to turn the school into a medical training facility for impoverished youths just might be doomed to failure.

Annabelle stared out the window at the passing landscape, wanting to distract herself before she went further into a panic spiral. The gorgeous, deep blue ocean and white sand beaches on one side below the road were in starkly colorful contrast to the green and brown mountains on the other side. Beautiful cliff-side homes and rickety shanties made of whatever hodgepodge of materials folks could get their hands on dotted the lush landscape.

The poverty in her old neighborhood was more than real. But in so many ways it couldn’t compare to the tiny, leaky places so many people here in Peru called home. Whenever families heard the medical mission crews were coming to an area, they’d trek for miles, hoping their child would be chosen to receive surgery and care. They’d sleep on the ground and patiently line up for their children to be seen, and if they were told that their child couldn’t be taken care of, that there was no more room in the schedule, they’d smile and thank the doctors and nurses, saying they’d be back to try again next time.

Helping those children was beyond important. Somehow, she had to find a way to get the meeting in Lima rescheduled so she could get the partnership and funding to give underprivileged kids a dream and a goal, while still taking care of as many patients needing surgery here as possible.

The taxi driver finally turned off the main road, and she sat up straight again, relief surging through her veins as she recognized the landscape. “Is this it? Are we about there?”

“Sí. Just up the hill a couple of miles.”

Thank God.

The cab lurched to a stop where the road ended, which left another five hundred or so feet to the small hospital OR. On an uphill slope she knew wasn’t easy to navigate, especially when it rained. “Just put my suitcase and the rest of the stuff on that rock there, please,” she said, pointing. “I’ll get it later.”

He nodded and did as she asked before she stuffed a wad of money in his hand. Being in a position to give a generous tip to someone she knew needed it always awed her and thrilled her, after so many years of having nothing herself. “Thanks so much. Can you hand me the monitor so I can carry it easier?”

The sketchy Spanish she’d been painstakingly learning, along with a few gestures, seemed to get her message across and he deposited the equipment into her wide open arms with a grin and a nod. “Adios.”

“Adios! Thanks again.”

Annabel turned to trudge up the hill, slipping a little on small stones as she went. Had the path always been this long? Huffing and puffing and only about halfway there, it felt very possible that her arms might crack off from the heavy weight of the patient monitor before she even got to the operating room. If she’d had any brains, she should have paid the man extra money to carry it for her. But since she knew everyone was waiting for her to finally show up, pausing to put down the awkward thing and catch her breath wasn’t an option.

Thrashing herself all over again for not thinking this through, Annabelle heaved the transport monitor higher against her chest, praying she didn’t drop it before it could even be used. Wouldn’t that just be the icing on the disaster cake?

Sweat rolled down her back, morphing from a trickle to a waterfall despite it being only about seventy degrees on an early March morning, and every hurried step seemed to add another pound to the weight in her arms. A few more lurching steps, and she topped the rise. Seeing the cement block building that made do as an operating room in this part of Peru would have her whooping if she’d had any breath left, but instead she sagged in relief.

She’d made it.

Trying hard to ignore the way the monitor jabbed her breasts and the sharply painful muscle twisting in her shoulder, she bit her lip to keep from cursing. Finally, she got the doorknob turned and the door shoved open with her shoulder.

“So sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly to anyone listening as she stumbled into the sparse room. “And that I missed yesterday, too. I hope you were able to take care of nonsurgical stuff since I wasn’t here but, still, I know it wasn’t good that I missed my flight. Really sorry about that.”

Quickly scanning the space to take in the small assembly of medical professionals near the surgical bed, she saw the familiar face of a Peruvian nurse named Karina whom she’d worked with here before, and her friend, Jen, who worked in a different hospital in Chicago.

“Hi!” Annabelle said with a smile and an accompanying wave of her few free fingers. The lack of return smiles, along with the worry on their faces, briefly registered before she looked down at the small patient they were crowded around, who was lying on the bed and staring up at her somberly.

“Hello, buddy!”

She sent him a reassuring grin before looking for a table close enough to the patient to set the monitor down, her arms beyond desperate to be relieved of the heavy machine.

“Oh, my gosh, this thing weighs a ton! Where can I put it? I hope you all haven’t been waiting for me too long. Getting here has been one problem after another! First there was a delay getting the monitor at the hospital, which made me miss my stupid flight. Then I hit bad weather and missed my connection, which was even worse. Plus, I had no idea airport security would take such a crazy long time examining the monitor this morning, and I—”

“Most of our surgeries have been done without a monitor in the past. If security had a problem with it, you should have left it at the airport. Or shipped it to begin with, which would have prevented all your problems so you could be here on time.”

Annabelle froze, her heart knocked hard against her ribs, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe at all.

That voice. The cold tone. The stinging criticism. All were too horrifyingly familiar. Forcing herself to slowly turn toward the tall, gowned man standing with his arms folded across his chest next to the patient, her worst fears were confirmed.

She may not have seen him for five years, but she’d recognize those hard brown eyes anywhere. The cut cheekbones. The bronzed skin. The displeasure and disdain on his face. The lips that were inexplicably sensuously shaped, even when pressed together in clear annoyance.

Dr. Daniel Ferrera in the flesh.

The man who had sabotaged her first career goals.

Gulping, she tried to pull air into her lungs. How could this be? How was it possible that of all the cardiac surgeons in the whole world, he was the one here on this mission trip in Peru?

“Making us miss an entire day of surgeries yesterday was unfair to everyone else, both the patients and the surgical team who took valuable vacation time to be here, Dr. Richards. And this morning you’ve kept the patient waiting for his surgery, making it so fewer patients will get seen today and all week, disappointing the families hoping their child will be taken care of since we won’t be able to fit in nearly as many because of your actions.”

Condemnation filled his dark eyes as they seared into hers. “I could have sent someone to get the monitor from the airport later, while you were here doing your job, but apparently some things never change.”

“I... The monitor was donated by a benefactor.”

“And the benefactor is more important than our patients here?”

“No. No, of course not. But I had to make sure the monitor arrived safely. When I was here last, we almost lost a patient because there was no monitor. A premature infant, and that’s just not acceptable if there’s any way to avoid it. So I decided to bring one here this time.” Icy shock numbed her brain, making it hard to speak coherently, and her insides seemed to squeeze and sag along with her arms under the heavy weight of the monitor as she stared at him.

Daniel must have seen her struggling to hold the machine, as a disgusted sound left his lips before he strode to take it from her, sliding it onto a nearby metal table.

“If you’d simply shipped it, you wouldn’t have hit bad weather, wouldn’t have missed your connection, wouldn’t have had to deal with airport security and wouldn’t have missed your first day, setting back the schedule for the whole week. It seems apparent that you’re not cut out for this kind of work.”

The arrogant tone, the sarcastically raised dark eyebrow, the scorn on his face cut through her horrified paralysis. Yes, it was true, she might not be cut out for any of the things she’d striven so hard to be excellent at. She wasn’t like him and all the others who came from their hoity-toity privileged backgrounds, people who’d had every advantage handed to them with white gloves and smiles, showered with accolades and money and a golden path laid out for them to become physicians.

She might be leagues below him in every way but, if nothing else, her pathetic history had at least given her grit and bravado. Living in rough neighborhoods around even rougher people had taught her that, when pushed, you’d better push back or you’d end up rubbed into the floor. She wasn’t about to let him talk to her that way, in front of their patient and the rest of the small surgical staff, whether she deserved it or not.

“For your information, this is my ninth mission trip, Dr. Ferrera. I’m not a newbie. I know the circumstances we’re dealing with here. But if we can save even one life by having a monitor, I was damned well going to make that happen.” She grabbed the mask and IV with shaking hands to show him it was time to stop talking and get to work. “I’m no longer the green anesthesiologist I was when we last worked together. Since your insults and criticism are only delaying the surgery on this boy even longer, I suggest we get to it.”

Dark eyes slashed across her like a whip before he turned to the patient and crew. “Since Dr. Richards obviously hasn’t had a chance to study our surgery lineup today, I’ll have to go over it again. We have an atrial septal defect, with the hole thankfully small. Get him hooked up to the all-important monitor while Dr. Richards gets the gases ready. As soon as he’s asleep and ready, I’ll get started.”

Everyone got to work. Daniel’s scowl and his stiff professional tone changed completely as he leaned over the little boy, speaking softly and melodically in Spanish. Whatever he said actually made the child smile, and though Annabelle didn’t want to feel the squishiness in her heart at how beautifully he was reassuring their young patient, it happened anyway.

How could the man be such a chameleon? A total autocratic jerk one minute, and a gentle, caring doctor the next? It didn’t matter, really. Neither of them would ever get past what had happened five years ago, and his obviously negative convictions about her skills. The thought of having to work with him for two entire weeks made her stomach churn. Before she’d even started her first surgery, she found herself hoping it was the fastest two-week mission trip in history.

But with no way to actually warp time to make that happen, she would focus on their patient and her job. She prepared to connect the two anesthetic gases to the small clear mask, then leaned over to show it to the child. Trying to explain it to him in her halting Spanish, she realized the stress of facing Daniel Ferrera seemed to have obliterated from her brain the few words she did know in the other language. With the surgery needing to start pronto, she knew that swallowing her pride was the right thing to do, and turned to her friend Karina. “Can you tell him I’m going to put the mask over his nose and mouth, and he’ll go to dreamland for a while?”

Before Karina could say a word, Daniel Ferrera leaned over the patient again, speaking more of that lovely, lilting Spanish, and mere seconds after Annabelle placed the mask on his face, the boy’s eyes were closed. Grateful that she’d done this enough times that her shakiness evaporated as she worked through the steps, Annabelle worked to connect the IV lines to his arms and legs, then the final, central line to his neck connecting directly to his heart. A necessary step of stunning the heart before the surgery could begin. “Pressure?”

“Monitor shows we have railroad tracks so all okay,” Jennifer said.

Annabelle glanced at the monitor, glad to have it for confirmation, no matter what Daniel Ferrera thought about it. “Good.” She concentrated on inserting a breathing tube, relieved that the boy’s mouth opened wide enough for it to go in easily. “Neuromuscular blockade set. We have a one airway, so he’s breathing manually.”

All she got was a nod from Daniel Ferrera before he got to work. Just as she’d remembered from the last time she’d watched him perform a delicate operation, he was steady, confident and precise. Not a single bobble or pause, just an even pace and periodic questions to the support crew and her as they monitored the patient. But there was no question that the tone of voice he used when he talked to her was completely different than the one he used with everyone else. Abrupt and clipped, showing loud and clear that he was still annoyed.

What was with the man that he couldn’t just let things go? It was clear nothing had changed from five years ago. Didn’t he believe people deserved a second chance after a mistake? Even if that mistake had been a terrible one?

For the next several hours, the surgery went smoothly, the whole team working together seamlessly without a hitch.

“That’s a wrap.” Daniel said, finally leaning back and running his finger down the closed incision. “Time for epinephrine to get the heart working again, then we’ll wake him, Dr. Richards.”

* * *

Her eyes lifted to briefly meet his, and if that icy blue could have physically stabbed him, he had a feeling she would have been glad. One of the many personality traits he disliked in medical professionals was if they tried to pass the buck when something went wrong. He did everything he could to make sure every surgery went perfectly, but when he made an error, or an error was made by someone he was supervising, he owned it.

Which Annabelle Richards should do, as far as he was concerned. Maybe her lateness hadn’t caused catastrophic damage, but they very well might not be able to perform surgery on all the patients they had scheduled today without everyone working into the late hours. Her tardiness wasn’t fair to any of their small patients who might have to wait until the next visit, or to the hardworking staff at this hospital who were donating their time to this cause.

“Are you prepared to work late tonight, if we have to, Dr. Richards? You look a little tired from your stressful travels.”

“How sweet of you to worry about me, Dr. Ferrera,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “No need, though. I may look like a hag, but I’m not tired at all. I’ll work as late as is needed.”

“Good. Because now we’re more than a day behind schedule, as you know.”

“I do know.” A near snarl curled her lip as she turned back to the equipment.

Hag? Now, that was a word no one could ever apply to Annabelle Richards, curled lip or not. Daniel studied the mutinous expression on her face as she diligently avoided looking at him, and couldn’t deny that, for some reason, her take-no-prisoners attitude and spunk was as appealing as the sweet smile in her blue eyes and on her lush lips that appeared as she turned to their small patient. He couldn’t deny that, for a split second, thoughts of what it would feel like to kiss that seductive mouth had scorched his brain just as it had the first time he’d seen her five years ago. It annoyed the hell out of him.

Gorgeous, sexy and sassy didn’t have anything to do with good medical skills, and he figured that her beauty had probably helped her advance in her career when she shouldn’t have. When he’d blocked her getting a permanent position five years ago at the hospital where he still worked, two of the upper-level hospital administrators had stepped in and gone to bat for her. He still believed her good looks, with serious curves in all the right places, had been part of why they’d wanted to keep her around.

Regardless, Daniel was the best cardiac surgeon at the hospital, and when he’d stated with no room for discussion that he’d never work with her again, they’d known he’d meant it. No one wanted to have to dance around that kind of scheduling nightmare, so off she’d gone in a matter of weeks.

Had he thought about her a few times afterward? For whatever reason, he couldn’t deny that he had. For a few months after she’d left, when he’d closed his eyes at night, he’d sometimes seen her face and lips. Her silky blond hair falling to her shoulders in soft waves. That body of hers, which any man would salivate over. He didn’t think the strangeness of his random thoughts about her were from any guilt over getting her fired. No, he’d figured it must be a sign that he’d been working too hard. Needed to let off steam with someone he knew was interested in only that and not any other kind of relationship, since he could never offer anything long term.

Yes, he’d thought about Annabelle Richards, but had he ever regretted blocking her from getting the permanent position? Not for one second. There was no room for error in surgery. He knew that better than anyone, and on the rare occasions he got pushback from someone on his medical team for his perfectionist attitudes, he thought of his brother and stood his ground.

His brother’s cardiac surgeon simply hadn’t been careful enough during the delicate surgery he’d needed, and if he had been, Gabriel would still be here, joking with Daniel, pushing the boundaries with their parents and grandparents, living his life at one hundred percent velocity like he always had until the day he’d died.

The loss had torn Daniel up. Had left a painful, gaping hole in his family, and he had no desire to ever forget how that felt.

Remembering his brother gave him the strength and resolution to be the kind of surgeon he had to be. To insist that everyone be on top of their game for every single patient. Every single time. He and his team owed it to his patients, and to the people who loved them, to give every one of them the best possible care available, and that included the nursing staff and the anesthesiologist.

The patient Dr. Annabelle Richards had nearly killed five years ago during surgery had suffered from exactly the same heart condition as Gabriel. No way had he wanted her to work as the anesthesiologist on his team.

And yet here she was. So what was he going to do about it? Mission hospital or not, he owed every single patient the best surgical outcome he could obtain with the tools that he had at hand. Dr. Annabelle Richards would not be the person who lowered that standard.

Daniel yanked down his surgical mask, gave their patient one more careful check over, asked him if he felt okay, and reassured him that he’d be visiting with him in Recovery when he felt better. Stripping off his gloves, he moved out of the OR to see the next patient coming in. He checked the diagnostic work and the seriousness of the six-month-old’s situation. Stuck his head into the small, spartan waiting room crammed with patients before talking with the local woman juggling the surgery schedule to see how many children they could see that day.

Whoever the anesthesiologist was on each mission, they often accompanied him on these quick rounds. But Dr. Richards had chosen to stay back in the OR, probably to tinker with her all-important monitor.

Having her work as anesthesiologist for the next few days’ surgeries was the only option to ensure that everyone on the docket got taken care of. But as soon as he had a moment free? He’d be looking for a replacement for Annabelle Richards.


CHAPTER TWO (#u5048f38e-39c2-5148-aabf-c4fe303b5021)

DAWN CREPT MISTILY across the mountains as Daniel stepped outside the hotel where the medical team was staying, sipping hot coffee obtained from the large urn in the foyer. He savored the taste of it on his tongue, letting the flavor of the locally grown arabica linger there, along with memories of his childhood. He and his brother had always loved the stuff, and he smiled, remembering sending Gabriel to sneak into the kitchen in the morning to pour both of them a cup, heaping them with cream and sugar.

Daniel had been more of a rule follower than his twin, but when it had been to his benefit, he’d been happy to take advantage of his brother’s mischievous, more daring nature. Sometimes that had involved sports and adventures, sometimes it had been stealing desserts or coffee or other things they weren’t supposed to have, straight from under their nanny’s or parents’ noses.

He took another swig of the hot brew. Straight black was the way he liked it now, giving him a much-needed caffeine jolt after having worked late into the night before getting busy making phone calls to acquaintances at various hospitals who might know of an accomplished anesthesiologist who’d be available and willing to work at the mission hospital for the next two weeks.

With any luck one of the people recommended would be willing to take over Annabelle Richards’s small shoes. He knew she’d be furious and, to his complete surprise, a niggle of discomfort over his phone calls briefly poked at him, knowing she’d given her vacation time to this trek and gone through a lot of effort to get here against the odds. There was also the undeniable fact that throughout yesterday’s surgeries she’d been utterly competent and professional.

But that didn’t mean that she always would be. He had no idea if she’d grown as a doctor, and he reminded himself, again, that it was critical to have only the best anesthesiologist available for the kinds of complicated heart surgeries they performed here.

But maybe there was some compromise to be found. Maybe he should suggest she work in a different mission while she was in Peru, rather than sending her back to the United States when he found a replacement. There were several clinics in poor parts of the country that were only occasionally open to patients. Clinics that did far less complicated surgeries than he’d be doing. Surgeries that didn’t take six or eight hours to accomplish, and weren’t life-threatening. She could handle those kinds of things, he knew. And any local doctor without much in the way of staff would welcome her help.

It was a good plan. And maybe part of the reason it sounded good to him was because he couldn’t deny that, despite having very valid reasons, seeing anger and maybe hurt in those blue eyes that could quickly turn from warm and friendly to icy disdain in a single blink wasn’t something he looked forward to. Maybe knowing another clinic needed her would make her happy to go there instead.

Impatient with himself and the odd mental discomfort he felt, Daniel looked out towards the mountains in the distance, pondering how he could get Dr. Richards moved to another clinic, when a movement nearby caught his attention. As though he’d conjured her from the shadowy mist, Annabelle came out of the hotel doors, her pale hair shimmering through the mist much the way the moon was, still hanging low in the slowly lightening sky.

Surprised that she’d be up so early after her botched travels and long work day, he took in the light pink robe she wore, cinched close at the waist and emphasizing her large breasts and the roundness of her hips. Her legs, bare and shapely, seemed longer than when she wore scrubs. Both hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and the way she breathed in the scent, closed her eyes as she took a sip, and tipped her head back as it slid down her throat, made his heart give a little kick. A small smile tipped her soft-looking lips. His entire body reacted to the utter sensuous pleasure on the woman’s face.

This was how she’d look making love. Pleasured, satisfied, wanting more. And he wanted to give it to her. Wanted to walk over, kiss her and open up that robe to slide his hands inside to feel her soft skin, caress all those curves.

Damn. Where had all that come from? Somehow, he forced himself to look away and take a big gulp of his own coffee. His chest burned, but he wasn’t sure it was from the drink. Thinking of her in that way was all kinds of wrong when they were working together, even if it ended up being for only a short time.

Daniel didn’t know whether to try to skulk deeper into the shadows until she went back inside or make some noise to let her know he was out here. He decided the first was cowardly and weak, and since he tried to never be either of those things, he took a few steps toward her.

“I see you need coffee to get going in the morning as much as I do.”

She swung to stare at him, surprise touching her face before it settled into a frown. The pleasure replaced by annoyance. “I like coffee, but I don’t need it to get going.”

“Energetic the second you leap from bed? Lucky you.”

“Not exactly, but I do other things to wake myself up.”

“Now you’ve intrigued me.” Which was an understatement, as several completely inappropriate thoughts lunged into his head. “What things?”

“I’m always amazed at how beautiful it is up here,” she said, ignoring his question to look out over the vista in front of them. “You’re from Peru originally, aren’t you? How did you end up in Philadelphia?”

He let his gaze follow hers to the mountains and the golden rays illuminating their peaks. “This was home for us until I was ten years old. Still is a part of me, I guess. We lived in a more urban area, which was, and is, beautiful in its own way. But the government became corrupt, and rival terror groups wreaked havoc on the entire country. The political unrest and economic mess finally forced my parents to move to the US, taking some of the family business interests with them.”

“I’d heard about the political troubles, but it’s much better now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, thank God. My grandparents stayed, and there were a number of years that we worried about their safety. But the government and economy are both good now, and businesses are thriving. The quality of life is good, too, for many. But that can’t be said for everyone here, as you already know.”

“Why is that?” As soon as she said it, her lips twisted. “Never mind. The same question can be asked about the US and plenty of other places. Why there are those who have a lot and others who don’t.”

It seemed her blue eyes shadowed at that, and he nodded. “Yes. The stark contrasts that exist here are part of the wonder of Peru, and part of its shame. Until I moved away, I took for granted the huge and interesting differences between the arid coastline and deep rainforests. Snow-covered mountains and the fertile valleys that grow so many fruits and vegetables, sugarcane and coffee. Gold and silver mines are a big part of the economy, too, and I’m sure you’ve seen our famous and unique fabric arts. So much to love about this place, and for tourists to enjoy.”

“Do the indigenous people resent the tourists showing up at Machu Picchu and their villages, or do they appreciate the tourist trade? The foreigners buying the gorgeous woven clothes and blankets?”

“I assume they’re glad to sell their wares and to make money that way, but don’t know for sure. I haven’t really talked to patients’ families about that—guess I should.” Interesting that she’d asked that question, when he hadn’t really thought about it at all. “Peruvians have a deep history with so many ancient cultures and widely diverse ethnicities. There’s also a sharp divide between the wealthy elite, like my own family, and the extremely poor that I’m committed to take care of.”

“So you’re one of the wealthy elite? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

The way she said it, with a slight scowl creasing her brow, showed she wasn’t the least impressed by his background. “I am blessed in that way, yes. But it doesn’t blind me to the problems here. To the atrocious wall in Lima that runs between shantytowns on one side of the mountain and large homes with every amenity on the other.”

“The wall of shame. It’s awful.” She scrunched up her face in a way that would have been beyond cute if the subject weren’t so serious. “But even though that kind of divide isn’t as physically obvious up here and in other places in the world, the gap is still pretty big. I mean, look at this place.”

He didn’t have to follow the wave of her hand to know what she meant. “True. Sometimes I feel guilty to be staying in this kind of modern hotel, knowing that, close by, some of the families we take care of don’t have running water or electricity.”

“Me, too. But does it make me a horrible person that I’m glad to be able to stay here anyway? I’ve worked in places that didn’t have running water and had generators that only provided electricity part of the day, but I can’t lie. I appreciate knowing I can at least take a shower and that’s what keeps bringing me back to stay more often when I’m working here.”

He had to smile at her earnest expression, as though she felt she really should feel guilty about that. “No, it doesn’t make you a horrible person. It makes you someone from the Western world, and we’re all spoiled by having a light switch we can just turn on, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. If the electric bill’s been paid,” she murmured, before sending him a slightly strained smile. “Anyway, I think I’ll get going on my morning routine then take advantage of that shower before work.”

“Surgery doesn’t start for another couple of hours. Why are you up so early, after having so little sleep because you had to bring that monitor?”

That earned him a narrow-eyed stare, and he mentally smacked himself for bringing it up again. And why had he? He’d been thinking about the gray smudges beneath her pretty eyes, wishing she’d go back to bed for a while so she’d feel refreshed. Not about the stupid monitor or her lateness.

“I’m always up early. It’s important to get mentally centered before taking on the tasks of the day.”

“What do you do to get mentally centered?”

“Meditation. Yoga. I know...” She held up her hand. “Someone like you is probably thinking I don’t have a yoga body, but a person doesn’t have to be thin to do healthy stretching, you know.”

Her words sent his gaze back to her tantalizing figure in that robe and he had to yank it away before she saw him staring. “Someone like me?”

“Yes. A person who thinks it’s his right to judge and criticize others. How they do their job. Where they come from or what they wear. Mostly, it’s obvious you usually decide that pretty much everyone on your medical teams come up short, undeserving of breathing the same rarefied air as you.”

“You have me all wrong.” Inexplicably, her words stung, even as he felt confused as to why she was saying some of it. “I don’t judge people. Didn’t we just have a conversation about how much I care about the have-nots who live here? As for my medical teams, I demand the best for my patients. That was the only thing on my mind five years ago, since that’s clearly what you’re talking about here.”

“I want the best for my patients, too. Except I don’t throw other people under the bus, even when they make a mistake or could do something better. I give them a second chance, and try to help them along the way.”

“Some patients never get a second chance.” The words came out more sharply than he’d intended as memories of Gabriel squeezed his chest. “Which is why I insist on working with only the most qualified people, instead of pandering to anyone’s ego.”

“Well, anyone who could keep their ego intact around you must be made of steel. And it seems to me that maybe you’re the one with the ego problem. Hotshot cardiac surgeon from a wealthy family. A guy with a God complex who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

“I have many colleagues who ask to work with me, and if that’s because they think I’m one of the best surgeons around, I’m happy about that. If you call that a big ego, so be it.”

She took a swig of coffee and shrugged. “I call it like I see it.”

He took a step closer, his chest burning at her unexpected attack, and after they’d had such a friendly conversation, too. “Maybe the truth is you have a plenty big ego yourself. Attractive enough to land a job in a prestigious hospital. Beautiful enough to have hospital higher-ups go to bat for you, even when you mess up.”

She gasped, taking two big steps forward to jab her finger into his chest, her eyes flashing with blue fury. “That’s just insulting, and if I were a man you wouldn’t dare say something like that to me. I’m not going to stand here and defend myself, because I couldn’t care less what you think about me, other than you have to trust me to do a good job here. You believe what you want about anything else, but I know what I’m doing, and I got my job through hard work and nothing else. You’re stuck working with me and I’m stuck working with you for the next two weeks. We have children to heal and lives to save, and that’s the only thing that’s important to me. So get over yourself and deal with it.”

She swung around and marched to the door. Coffee sloshed from her cup and onto her pink sleeve, trickling to the ground, but she just kept going without another look back.

Daniel blew out a slow breath as he watched the sexy sway of her backside disappear through the door. How had he lost control of that conversation, and why had he let her goad him into verbalizing his questions about why some of the hospital administrators had argued to keep her on?

Normally, he was a man who could hold his thoughts, but there was something about her that got under his skin. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d felt so frustrated at her words, and at the same time he’d been mesmerized by her lips as they’d moved, that the comments about her beauty helping her get her job had just fallen out of his mouth, even as he’d known he shouldn’t say anything. Even as he’d spoken, a part of him had wanted to reach for her, grasp her shoulders, and pull her against him. Wanted to drop his mouth to hers to keep her from lambasting him. Wanted to sip the coffee from her lips, experience the taste of her that he knew would be sweeter than the sugar in her drink.

And wouldn’t that have been a giant mistake? What the hell was wrong with him?

He rubbed his hand down his face. The number one priority in dealing with her just became being careful to speak to her, and react to her, with only the utmost professionalism. How ironic would it be for her to lodge a complaint against him about his conduct on this medical mission?

A brisk walk might help him get his equilibrium back. And maybe it was time for him to learn to do a little meditation himself, to purge his brain of any and all peculiar and troubling thoughts about Annabelle Richards.

* * *

Another long day of surgeries left Daniel with an aching back and a sense of satisfaction. The hours spent were worth a little discomfort, since repairing holes in children’s small hearts or addressing hypoplastic left heart syndrome and other critical heart malformations was exactly why he did these missions.

The whole team had worked tirelessly along with him, including Annabelle. He couldn’t deny that she’d shown herself to be a steady hand with the anesthesia, communicating well with the nurses and bringing what he’d learned was her special brand of charm to the young patients. She might not speak very good Spanish but at least she tried, and knew how to deal with their patients in a way that calmed even the most nervous. Her wide smile, and the way she used tiny fairy and superhero dolls as props to leap gently onto their little arms and bodies, distracting them from the medical preparation happening around them, always made them relax and laugh before she got down to the serious business of getting them to sleep for surgery.

Maybe she really had grown as a doctor over the past five years, after the anesthesia resident’s nearly catastrophic error and her mistake of not supervising well enough what the guy was doing. An error that had nearly ended up with their young patient dead. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as angry if the teen hadn’t been having the same surgery Gabriel had died from, or maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference at all. But he had to believe that not a soul alive would blame him for being furious and distraught about a member of his staff nearly losing a child’s life through completely avoidable actions.

It was hard for him to think beyond that upsetting day when it came to Annabelle. Hard to give her the benefit of the doubt now, his chest still constricting at the memory of the chaos as they’d struggled to keep the boy alive. Another teenager, this one under Daniel’s watch, nearly dying. Was he supposed to just look the other way? Forget about it? The boy’s family had no idea how close they’d come to losing him that day, a fate that would have changed their world forever.

Some would say he should move on and give Annabelle another chance since she was older and more experienced now. And maybe they’d be right. But he’d already gotten the wheels greased for him to work with a new doc, and for her to do other, still important, work but at a different clinic, far away from him. He would feel under less stress in the OR here, and patients at the new clinic would get Annabelle’s help facilitating the surgeries they needed. So nothing but good would come from his plan.

“You got this?” he asked the team after the patient’s vital signs were normal and he was satisfied the surgery was a success.

“Yes, Dr. Ferrera,” Annabelle said in a cool, professional voice. “Ready to remove the breathing tube and IVs.”

“Good. I’ll be over at Administration, evaluating tomorrow’s patients, making final decisions about who’s on the list and when.”

Annabelle and the nurses all nodded, focusing on the patient, as they should. Daniel stripped off his gloves and mask and went to the other cement block building that served their bare-bones administration staff and doubled as a waiting room/sleeping room combo. Families with children sat on the folding chairs and sprawled on the floor, many of whom he knew had come from miles away. Patiently waiting to be seen, they slept there or outside on homemade blankets they’d brought with them, along with bags of food, since the clinic could only provide bottled water to drink. They waited to find out if they’d be one of those chosen to get well, or be put on the list for the next time a clinic was run. Some looked deceptively healthy, others were visibly ill. Far too thin, too pale, too quiet and motionless for a child to be.

Daniel’s own heart abnormality had always been hidden behind a facade of good health. He’d played sports, he’d skied, he’d seemed fine in every way. With both their heart functions in reasonably good and manageable conditions, it had been decided that surgery on the identical twins wasn’t worth the risk to either of them. That was, until Gabriel’s heart condition had worsened and he’d ended up needing the surgery that had ultimately killed him.

Daniel hadn’t had to face that.

He knew it was possible that things might change. The hole in his heart that both brothers had been born with, and that medical professionals had always kept an eye on, could get larger and more problematic than the simple arrhythmia he had to deal with sometimes. Living with his heart abnormality was a little like carrying around a ticking bomb. It might never go off. Or it could someday result in endocarditis or sepsis. Stroke. Death.

It meant Daniel lived every day as if it were his last and never committed to a forever. No long-term relationships, no children. He simply couldn’t promise anyone that he’d be here on earth for a long time, and it wouldn’t be fair to put a woman or a family through that kind of uncertainty. Through the possibility of future pain.

Twenty years had passed since his brother had died, and time had dulled the intense grief. He and his parents and grandparents still dealt with the kind of deep pain that came from a sudden, shocking loss. The ache would always be there.

Holding in a deep sigh, he moved his gaze from the throngs of patiently waiting families to the front desk, trying to detach himself by focusing on the list of patients there. He shoved down the ache that came with every mission trip, knowing he couldn’t fix everyone who needed it. Knowing that his decisions about who would get on the surgery lists and who wouldn’t meant more worries for the people who loved them. More kids who couldn’t play in a normal way until their hearts were repaired. More who might die if the tests done before he’d arrived didn’t show how serious their situation really was. More whose families might lose them forever if he made the wrong choice.

“May I have the list of possible patients for tomorrow?” he asked the receptionist. With the long sheet in hand, he moved from family to family, child to child. Reading their charts and talking with them about their symptoms. Listening to their hearts to evaluate murmurs and arrhythmias, and to figure out the best course of action to help them to get better.

Hoping and praying he got it all right.

“I think that’s it for the day,” he said in Spanish to the clinic receptionist, who seemed as worn out as he did, and he knew the whole team had to feel the same way. “I’ll let everyone know we’re done until tomorrow morning.”

“Sí, Dr. Ferrera. I’m sure more folks will arrive by morning, and I’ll try to sort them by health priority before you talk with them after surgery tomorrow.”

“Be sure to let me know if any seem critical, and I’ll look at them between patients to see if they need to be fitted into the rotation as soon as possible.”

She nodded, and Daniel bit back a tired sigh at the thought of more patients to evaluate even before the medical team started surgery in the morning. But that was the whole reason they were here, wasn’t it? To see the maximum number of the most ill children was the name of the game.

When Daniel stepped back inside the cement block building that housed the OR, he was surprised to see Annabelle helping Jennifer and Karina wash out the masks and tracheal tubes they’d used for their patients, sterilizing them, then hanging them to dry. Most docs left that to the nursing staff and local tech assistants, and he watched her lean over to dig out surgical items like sponges and syringes from a box he hadn’t seen before.

“What’s all that stuff in there, and where did it come from?” he asked.

“I brought it.” Annabelle didn’t look up at him, just kept laying out items for tomorrow morning’s surgeries.

“Did your hospital donate it?”

“Dr. Richards started a—”

Annabelle sent Jennifer a deep frown, accompanied by a small shake of her head, that had Jennifer quickly closing her mouth.

What was that all about? He looked from Annabelle to Jennifer, then back to see Annabelle intensely concentrating on sorting the equipment. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was that she clearly didn’t want him to hear, and he would definitely be asking Jennifer later when Annabelle wasn’t around to shush her.

“It’s just a few things. Not as much as we’d like to have, but I didn’t have much room in my suitcase and, of course, I had to bring the useless monitor.”

So she was still angry with him about that. Not that it was any real surprise.

“I never said it was useless. I said we’d functioned without monitors plenty of times in the past, and that missing a whole day of surgeries, then being late with a patient already on the operating table and putting us hugely behind schedule, wasn’t worth the time wasted getting one here.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the strident sound of his words made him feel a little ridiculous. It was history at this point, and the woman had worked hard all day with the rest of the team, with successful outcomes for every patient. He nearly opened his mouth to say something more, maybe a general congratulations and thank-you to the whole team, but the words died at the icy dislike in the look she sent him.

Those pretty lips of hers had thinned, too, but she didn’t respond, which he was fine with as the subject needed to be dropped. “Anyway,” he continued, annoyed that he felt awkward, “I’m told dinner is being held for us at the hotel. Anything I can do to help get things finished up here?”

“We’re fine, Dr. Ferrera. Not much more to do, but you go ahead,” Annabelle said as she hung another washed-out mask on the line.

“I’m not going to eat while you’re all still out here.”

“This is the last bit,” Jennifer said, drying her hands and shooting him a grin. “And I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m pretty much starving.”

“Me, too,” Daniel said, glad that at least she and the other nurse weren’t holding some kind of grudge against him, channeling Annabelle’s obvious dislike. He needed a good working relationship with the surgical team. “Let’s go.”

Normally on these kinds of trips Daniel had dinner with the team then excused himself to be alone. To regroup and relax after a long day of work that was stressful no matter how many years he’d been doing it, knowing children’s lives were literally in his hands. But tonight the jovial mood and banter between the group kept him in his seat. Jennifer and Karina told a number of absurd hospital stories during dinner that had everyone laughing, including Annabelle. Why he found his attention was focused on her more than the storytellers, he wasn’t sure. But as soon as he pondered that, the answer was obvious. Something about her sparkling eyes and infectious smile and pretty face made him smile, too. Drew him to her, whether he liked it or not.

From the moment they’d all started eating he couldn’t help but notice that Annabelle seemed to enjoy her dinner far more than the rest of them. While the food at this hotel wasn’t bad compared to what was often on the menu on mission trips, it hardly qualified as something to lick your lips over. But from the look on Annabelle’s face as she ate every bite on her plate, anyone would have thought it was gourmet fare.

He nearly commented on it, but decided that would probably just make her mad at him all over again. His relationships with women might be of the sweet but short variety but that didn’t mean he wasn’t well aware that most females didn’t appreciate observations about how much food they did or didn’t eat, and whether or not they seemed to be enjoying it.

So he kept his mouth shut, while watching her pretty lips smile as she chewed and her enthusiasm as she poked another bite into her mouth. Enjoying watching her was a big part of the reason he hadn’t retired to his room. Irritated though they’d both been with one another yesterday and this morning, he liked seeing her face relaxed and smiling, to hear the sound of her musical laughter. All that was a lot better than the scowl and cold voice she usually sent his way, though he didn’t understand why he suddenly seemed to care about that.

“How about you, Annabelle?” The question came out of his mouth before he’d known he was going to ask it. “What’s your most memorable mission trip story?”

Her eyes met his, looking surprised that he’d directed a question to her. “Hmm...” she said, tapping her finger against those lush lips. “I guess the craziest thing that ever happened was on one of my trips to Guatemala. The military guides in front of us were stopped, then surrounded, by a bunch of cutthroat-looking guys with all kinds of weapons pointed at them, and us,” she began, and Daniel had to wonder why she was smiling at the retelling of what had to have been a scary situation. He’d been in a few himself, and even now would definitely not have been grinning about them.

“Oh, my heavens,” Jennifer said, wide-eyed as she pressed her hands to her cheeks. “What happened?”

“We were in the SUV behind them, and obviously we were worried. A nurse and I were the only passengers in the car, planning to meet the surgeon at the mission site. We kind of froze, wondering what our guides were going to do, figuring we should stay put. But then the guys came back to our car and gestured for us to get out. Gotta tell you, my knees were shaking! They took us to a house, and we had no idea what was going to happen. Whether they were going to take us in there and just plain shoot us, or do something awful to us, or what.”

Daniel found he was holding his breath, even as he knew this story must have a good outcome or she wouldn’t be smiling like she was.

“And?” Karina asked, obviously as riveted to hear the answer as he felt.

“They opened the door, and before we were even inside, we could hear a woman moaning. The minute we saw her, it was obvious that she was in labor and having some kind of serious problem. In a lot of pain. We ended up doing an emergency C-section on her, delivering the most beautiful twins you’ve ever seen. And they were healthy and fine—such a relief because we weren’t sure what to expect, you know? Then later, when she and the babies were stable, I came back out to tell them everything was okay, that mama and babies were all fine and healthy. They whooped and hollered and hugged me and swung me around until I couldn’t breathe!

“And one man—I never knew for sure, but I assume it was the babies’ father—had tears rolling down his cheeks as he hugged me. It was an incredible feeling to know we’d helped, and that maybe the mother and babies wouldn’t have made it without us. It felt like it was divine intervention that we were traveling there when they needed us, you know? It was the best day of my life.”

“I can’t believe you never told me this before!” Jennifer said. “So they were nice to you, then?”

“Maybe too nice.” Annabelle grinned. “They plied us with rum and beer and all kinds of food, and we ended up staying the night there, partly because we wanted to check on the new mom and babies in the morning and partly because the military guys and our driver had a bit too much for them to handle getting behind the wheel.”

“Wow, now that’s one for the books,” Karina said, laughing.

“Yeah, it was scary, but funny and wonderful, too. If we hadn’t been on the road there at that moment, I think the outcome might have been bad. So it was a truly great night. The best feeling in the world. Then word apparently got around, because on the way to the two clinics we worked on that trip, there were always locals helping us out any way they could, even acting as secondary escorts along with the military. It was awesome to feel appreciated that way, and to know that we’d really made a difference there.”

“When was this?” Karina asked.

“My first mission trip. Four years ago.”

“Your very first one?” Jennifer exclaimed. “I’d imagine having such a scary experience might have made you think twice about going on another one.”

“Life can be pretty scary in the US too. Can’t let it keep you from living.”

Jennifer nodded, and Daniel detected a trace of sympathy aimed at Annabelle as all amusement left both their faces. He figured they must be thinking of some of the violence, especially in big cities, that sent people to the ER no matter where they lived.

She quickly changed the subject to more mundane conversation about the hospitals where she and Jennifer worked, and he only half listened as he thought about Annabelle. Her first mission trip had been only four years ago, and she’d told him...what? That this was her ninth one? That was a lot of vacation time taken for this kind of trip. Most women he knew from both Peru and the US who had the means preferred taking spa vacations or trips to exotic locations. Just as he was about to ask her where else she’d gone on mission trips, and why, his cell phone rang.

He glanced down and nearly cursed when he saw it was the general surgeon from a Lima hospital that he’d asked to open the currently closed clinic near Huancayo for the duration of this trip. Not a conversation he wanted to have in front of everyone.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said, getting up to stride to the hotel door. As he did so, he swore he could feel Annabelle’s blue eyes drilling a hole in his back, but of course that was his imagination.

“Thanks for calling, Eduardo. So, are you able to take a week or so to work in Huancayo?”

“Good timing from this end. I can be there the day after tomorrow, with Alan Velasco coming to do anesthesia with you at your clinic the same day.”

“Glad to hear it. Thanks for making that happen. When I learned that the Huancayo clinic hadn’t been open for over a year, I knew we should get a surgeon up there if at all possible. So I appreciate you going.” And never mind that lack of recent care wasn’t the only reason he’d wanted to get it open for business.

“We Peruvians have to look after our own when we can, right? Alan and I’ll be at your clinic on Tuesday with a nurse who’s agreed to help me, then I’ll take the anesthesiologist you want working with me down to Huancayo.”

Peruvians looked after their own? He knew that wasn’t always true. Those like his own family with education and wealth and privilege were certainly well taken care of. But those living in poverty on the other side of the infamous wall of shame in Lima that had been compared to the Berlin Wall? The deeply poor living in the many remote towns in Peru that the various mission groups were devoted to help? Not so much.

“Thanks again. I’ll let Dr. Richards know she’ll be helping get the clinic open in Huancayo. See you when you get here.”

He should be elated, since this was exactly how he’d hoped it would all turn out. Instead, a small knot formed in his gut as he pondered how to talk to Annabelle about the change of plans. But surely, if he played it right, she’d be happy to be helping patients in a part of the country that hadn’t received medical care or surgeries for a long time. Right?

Daniel shook off his unease and headed back toward the hotel. Whatever he was feeling was ridiculous and made no sense. He’d have a top-notch anesthesiologist working with him on the delicate heart surgeries, and more children and adults with health problems would be seen during the next couple of weeks in Huancayo, where the need was real. Annabelle might never know he’d been the one to get the clinic open but even if she did, she’d probably assume it had come about organically, without any agenda other than having more doctors available to care for more patients. A win for everyone.

The shining halo of Annabelle’s pale blond hair shone through the falling darkness in front of the hotel, just as it had at dawn this morning, spilling to her shoulders in silky waves. His steps slowed as he thought through how he was going to tell her about the change of plans in a way that would make her feel fine about it. Then stopped completely to watch her crouch down to a feral cat, offering it a morsel of food that had it purring and rubbing against her ankles. The sexy roundness of her bottom and hips caught his attention, and the sweet, low sound of her voice crept under his skin.

“Ah, you’re such a little sweetie, aren’t you?” she cooed, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The hotel manager told me not to feed you, so this is just between us, okay? No more meowing out here in the middle of the night. Got it?”

In answer, the cat flopped onto its back, purring even louder, and Annabelle laughed softly as she scratched its belly, an indulgent smile on her face. “I can tell you’re going to get me in trouble. Just so you know, I’m going to swear it wasn’t me giving you treats. We’ll blame Daniel Ferrera instead, but you have to back me up on this.”

“Won’t work,” Daniel said, a smile twitching his lips even as he wanted to ask her why she’d put the blame on him instead of someone else staying in the hotel. “I’m now a witness to your illicit activities.”

Annabelle jumped to her feet, twisting to face him, and her alarmed and guilty expression nearly made him chuckle. “Oh! Dr. Ferrera. Why are you sneaking up on people in the dark like that? You startled me.”

“My apologies. I didn’t realize it could be considered sneaking since I was walking in full view on the designated path to the front door.”

“Well, it’s almost dark and you should have made more noise.”

“So I wouldn’t hear you plotting against me?”

She folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. “If I did plot against you, it would be tit for tat, wouldn’t it? However, I’m not that kind of person.”

“Uh-huh. No way am I going to be the fall guy if a cacophony of meows wakes up the whole hotel.”

“I was just kidding about blaming you. Even though you blamed me for something that wasn’t my fault. Or at least was only partially my fault. But that’s long over with and I’m going to put it behind me. No plotting against you.”

That knocked the smile off his face because, yeah, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he was plotting against her, given everything he’d orchestrated to get her services transferred to the other clinic.

“Anyway,” she continued in a stiff and professional voice that had him regretting that their light banter was obviously over, “what’s tomorrow’s surgical schedule?”

“Full day again,” he replied. “We need to get going no later than seven to fit them all in, especially since a couple of the diagnostics we were given aren’t very clear. May find some surprises during surgery that will take longer than we expect.”

“That happens about fifty percent of the time anyway,” she said as she slung the small green backpack over her shoulder that she seemed to carry everywhere.

“True.” Now was the time to tell her about the new plans for her upcoming trip to Huancayo, and he hoped she was perfectly fine with it, not figuring there was anything to it other than helping more people. He drew a breath, only to expel it as he watched her move the backpack strap down to the crook of her elbow, her face scrunching up a little with obvious discomfort as she reached to massage her neck and shoulder. “Is your arm hurting you?”




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