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.”