‘The art of triage?’ He gave a hard laugh. ‘It may be an art form where you come from, but battlefield triage is something completely different.’
Her head came up, and a vein in the damp skin just below her jaw pulsed with what could be either anger or fear. He’d bet fear. Good. That meant she’d soon be running back home, like Craig had done before her. And Mark before that.
And he’d bet his life he’d never once stared at a pulse point in either man’s neck.
A baggage carrier came up behind them and set three giant red bags beside her, color-coordinated matches of the one she was currently sitting on. They were all spotless, evidently purchased just for this trip.
It figured.
He was surprised there weren’t white roses embroidered across the fronts of them, or little save-the-rainforest slogans like the ones Craig had had on several of his T-shirts.
The carrier held up three fingers as if asking if these were all of her bags.
The woman in front of him gave the ubiquitous thumbs-up signal. The carrier nodded and hurried away without even waiting for a tip. Probably knew it was a lost cause.
Matt rolled his eyes. She knew nothing about this culture. ‘I bet you don’t even speak Portuguese.’
‘Well, that’s a bet you’d surely lose. And as far as ‘battlefield triage’ goes, the last time I checked my history books, Brazil was a pacifistic nation.’ She scooped up the sunglasses, which lay broken on the floor, and dumped the remains into the open handbag that sat beside her. Picking up her purse, she stood to her feet, the top of her head barely reaching his chin.
‘You can’t learn everything about a country from a history book.’
‘Ri-ght.’
The sing-song intonation she gave the word only served to tick him off further. Women. When he got hold of Tracy, he was going to give her hell.
But Tracy wasn’t here at the moment, and Dr. Stefani Wilson was. ‘I don’t think you and this job are going to mesh.’
She hitched her handbag higher onto her shoulder, but there was now a hint of wariness in her gaze that made him frown. ‘Is that right? You know … I don’t believe I caught your name.’
‘Matt. Matt Palermo.’
‘Well, Mr. Palermo. Why don’t you let me worry about whether the job and I are going to suit each other? If you’ll just take me to Tracy Hinton—who evidently felt I was adequately qualified for this position—I’ll soon be out of your hair.’
‘Not bloody likely.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Two things. One, if you take this job you won’t be “out of my hair” for a very long time. And, two, Tracy obviously didn’t inform you of the living arrangements.’
‘She spelled it out quite nicely. She and I will be living on a hospital boat, traveling from village to village. We’ll be out for weeks at a time.’
‘You … and Tracy.’ He nodded, a small smile coming to his face when he realized she had no idea who he was. And he wondered if that was a simple mistake, or if Tracy had her hand in that as well.
‘Yes. Why? Don’t you think two women can handle the job?’
‘What I think has no bearing on anything, or Tracy never would have hired you.’
‘What an awful thing to say.’
‘Not really. And Tracy won’t be the one living with you.’
She blinked once, then again, his response evidently surprising her. ‘Okay, so it’ll be another doctor. It doesn’t really matter who it is.’
‘Doesn’t it?’
A hand went to her stomach and she plucked at the hem of her shirt. ‘Not at all.’
‘So it wouldn’t bother you to discover that we—you and I—will be living together, if you take this job.’ He caught sight of a pale sliver of skin beneath her blouse as she fiddled with it. He forced the rest of the words from his suddenly dry mouth. ‘We’ll be under the same roof. For weeks at a time. Possibly months.’
She sucked down an audible breath and held it for a second or two before the muscles of her throat relaxed. ‘I can handle it, if you can. Besides, there’ll be another doctor on board to play chaperone, if you’re worried about me throwing myself at you.’ Her brows arched. ‘Are you the ship’s captain or something? The cook?’
He laughed. ‘Unfortunately for you, it’s neither of the above. And if you get on that boat, you’ll have to put up with me 24-7.’
‘Because?’ Her teeth came down on her lower lip as if she realized something terrible was heading her way.
‘Because I’ll be your traveling companion, not Tracy. And I happen to be the only critical-care doctor within a hundred-mile radius.’
CHAPTER TWO
Stevie perched on the seat of the Land Rover, keeping her body braced against the passenger side door as they navigated around the worst of the potholes. The ones they couldn’t avoid, they plowed straight through.
With her teeth clicking together like castanets, she tried to gather her wits. Okay, so the introduction to her new job wasn’t going quite like she’d expected. No cheering, no gratitude. Just a doctor who acted like he’d rather she drop off the face of the earth.
So what? She wasn’t here to bask in anyone’s praise. She’d come to help people.
The memory of Michael’s laughter when she’d shown him the article on Projeto Vida swept through her mind. ‘Seriously?’ he’d said. ‘What kind of person practices medicine in the jungle?’
Too embarrassed to admit she found the idea fascinating, she’d laughed along with him and had quickly blanked out the computer screen. The truth was, she’d toyed with the idea for the past year. She used to think Michael felt the same way, that he wanted to give back to those in need. Why else would he be at the helm of a public hospital?
Certainly not just to commandeer a private room for his little no-tell rendezvous, like the one she’d caught him having with a female doctor. On her birthday, of all things.
Humiliation and pain washed through her, bringing with it an inner scream of frustration. Why couldn’t she get past this?
She must have made some sound because her new colleague’s head swiveled toward her. She squirmed in her seat before tilting her chin a bit higher.
Just because the good doctor wasn’t thrilled about having her on board it didn’t mean she should tuck her tail and go scurrying back to New York—no matter how much she wanted to right now. She’d agreed to stay for two years, and she intended to see them through, down to the very last day.
‘So, why leave New York and come to our little neck of the rainforest?’
She gave a guilty start. He couldn’t possibly know what she’d been thinking. ‘Why do people normally do these types of things?’
His eyes searched hers before turning back to the road. ‘Sometimes they don’t think through the realities like they should.’
‘And sometimes they just want to help.’
‘Right. The last two doctors who “wanted to help,” ended up leaving before they’d been here a month. It would have been better if they’d just mailed Projeto Vida a check.’
‘Money can take the place of qualified doctors these days?’
His hands tightened on the