“Pleasure?” He couldn’t resist.
She closed her eyes for a second.
He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “So, if I’d told you last night in the bar I was a doctor, you wouldn’t have come back to my room with me?”
She bit her bottom lip. He could tell she knew she was about to be challenged.
“Well, yes.”
He held open his arms. “It’s a conference full of medical professionals. The hotel is full of them. Who did you think you might meet in the bar?”
She shrugged. “There’s more than one conference on in this hotel. I thought you were maybe one of those—” she waggled her hand “—business, economic-type guys.”
He let out a laugh. He couldn’t help it. From the second he’d started studying medicine it had felt as if he practically had doctor stamped on his forehead. He put his hand on his chest. “Me? You honestly thought I was some kind of accountant, computer, business-type geek?” He shook his head. “Oh, my army colleagues would just love that.”
She looked distinctly uncomfortable and he tried to rein in his amusement.
“Why are you getting yourself so worked up? Nothing happened. You know it didn’t.” He gave her a kind of sideways glance. “Maybe...if things had been different and jet lag hadn’t been involved then we could be having an entirely different conversation today.”
He was probably pushing things. But it was true. There had been a spark between them last night. He wouldn’t let her try and deny it.
Her face was pinched; there were faint wrinkles along her brow. He couldn’t actually believe it. She really, really did have an issue with the fact he was a doctor.
He’d worked with colleagues in the past who didn’t like to mix work with relationships. It wasn’t so unheard of. Maybe if he’d adopted that rule he wouldn’t have ended up losing someone. He wouldn’t have felt the need to shut himself off entirely from the rest of the world.
But even as he had that thought he knew it was ridiculous. Relationship or not, they would still both have been posted to Afghanistan. He’d been tortured with what-ifs for a long time before he realized nothing would have changed.
He saw a glimmer of something in Amber’s blue eyes. A spark at his words. Baiting her was easy.
She flung her paper napkin at him. “No way.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Purely because I’m a doctor?”
She neglected to answer that part of the question and gave him a long stare. “Let’s just say had you been some mysterious businessman...” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs. “It’s a bit insulting, really.”
Was she changing tack? He mirrored her actions and leaned back in his chair. “What is?”
“A man inviting you back to his room, then promptly falling asleep and ignoring you.”
He squirmed. When he’d woken up this morning he’d cringed. He remembered sitting up in the bed together to eat their second burger and fries. He also remembered watching some old movie with her and laughing along at the lines. And he could just about remember a warm body wrapped around his in the middle of the night. He’d tried not to remember the fact it had felt good because that flooded him with things he didn’t want to acknowledge.
He lifted his hands. “Guilty as charged. Sorry. It was the jet lag.” He put his elbow on the table and leaned a little closer. “But now? Jet lag is gone. Let’s start again.”
Even though she’d just tried to joke with him, she still looked the tiniest bit uncomfortable. She obviously took her “no fraternization with other medics” rule seriously. He couldn’t help but be curious.
He waved his hand. “Relax, Amber. This is just breakfast. Nothing more. Nothing less. What do you have against fellow doctors, anyway?”
She didn’t meet his gaze; she just sucked in a breath as her fingers toyed with the cutlery on the table. “Let’s just say I lived in an environment with an absentee medic who was obsessed with his work. As a child I had no choice. As an adult, it’s not a situation I ever want to repeat.”
He wanted to ask questions. He did. But somehow he got the impression it wasn’t really the time. He was curious about this woman. And after two years, that was a first for him—one that he couldn’t quite understand.
The waiter appeared with the coffee and filled up their cups. Jack decided to take things back to neutral territory. “You might have told me you were a speaker.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You might have told me you were starting off the conference.” She gave a thoughtful nod. “You were good. I was impressed.” Her eyes ran up and down his uniform. “I can’t believe I thought you were at the business conference. I should have guessed. Your suit didn’t quite fit perfectly—and, let’s face it, those guys probably spend on their suits what I would on a car. I should have guessed you were an army guy. I’m still surprised you didn’t mention it.”
“I’ll try not to be insulted by the suit comment—because you’re right. I much prefer to drive a reliable car than buy a fancy suit. If you want to split hairs, you didn’t mention you worked for the Disease Prevention Agency. Aren’t you guys supposed to walk about in giant space suits?” He grinned and nodded his head. “Now I understand the comments at the bar about the peanuts.”
She shuddered. “You have no idea what we’ve found on bar snacks.”
He laughed as he kept shaking his head. “And I don’t want you to tell me.” This was better. This was more what he wanted. He could gradually see the tension around her neck and shoulders start to ease.
The waiter appeared with their eggs and toast, and Amber leaned over the plate and inhaled. “Oh, delicious. And just what I need.”
She ate for a few minutes then looked back up at him. “Your wound dressing. It looks good. How on earth did you discover the science behind it?”
Jack was spreading butter on his toast. “There’s been quite a bit of work on clot-forming dressings. My problem was they just didn’t work quickly enough for the situations we were in. But—” he gave her a smile; she was watching him with those big blue eyes “—the Internet is a wonderful thing. I contacted a few people who’d led other studies and asked if we could try a combination. I knew the specifics of what I really needed. I needed something so simple that it could be slapped on by anyone—and so quick acting it could stop bleeding within twenty seconds.”
The glance she gave him was filled with admiration. “I heard people talking after you finished. They think you’re sitting on a gold mine.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It’s not about money,” he said quickly.
Amber didn’t even blink, just kept staring at him with that careful gaze. “I know. I got that.”
He picked at his eggs with his fork. “I know that for a lot of people medicine is a business. Britain isn’t like that. The army isn’t like that. Our health care is free—always has been and hopefully always will be. I’m not sure I can exist in a climate where every dressing gets counted and every profit margin looked at.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “You’ve already been approached, haven’t you?”
He bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of how much to tell her. Jack liked being straightforward. And from what little he’d seen of Amber, she seemed to operate that way too. That thing on the stage had just been a wobble—he was sure.
“Right from the beginning we had a contract arranged and a product license