The sudden ringing of her phone made her jump and she snatched it up, hoping it was Trent, seeing she’d called a dozen times. “So you finally decided to look at your phone?”
“It’s Thomas.”
The hospital technician sounded surprised and no wonder. Her stomach twisted with dread, hoping he wasn’t delivering bad news. “Sorry. You calling with an update?”
“The boy is still holding his own. I pray he’ll be okay until Dr. Dalton gets back here. But I wanted to tell you that Dr. Smith has offered to do the appendectomy.”
“What? Tell him no way. I’m not having a liar and a hack working on any of our patients—unless Trent’s already gone, in which case we’ll have no choice but to reconsider. I’ll let you know as soon as I get to the airport.”
“Yes, Ma.”
She hung up and shook her head, managing a little smile. The word “Ma” was used as a sign of respect in Liberia, and no matter how many times she’d asked Thomas just to call her Charlie, or Charlotte, he never did.
Dr. Smith had been sent by the Global Physicians Coalition to work at the Henry and Louisa Edwards Mission Hospital for a one-year commission. But when his arrival had been delayed they’d asked Trent to fill in for the five days until Smith could get there. Though he’d just finished a stint in India, Trent had thankfully not minded his vacation being delayed until Smith showed up.
Not long after Trent had left to start his vacation, though, the GPC called to tell her they had discovered that Smith had falsified his credentials. No way would she have him work here now.
And, because problems came in multiples, they had a very sick little boy whose life just might depend on getting surgery pronto. If only John Adams, her right-hand man for everything to do with the hospital and school, hadn’t been off getting supplies today. Charlie would’ve sent him to drag Trent back to take care of the little boy, saving her from enduring an hour’s drive in close quarters with the man. That was, if he hadn’t flown off to wherever he was going next.
Anxiety ratcheting up another notch, Charlie almost called Trent again, knowing there was little point. Then she spotted the airport in the distance. Shoving down the gas pedal, hands sweating, she slithered and bumped her way down the road, parked nearly sideways and ran inside.
Relief at seeing him still sitting there nearly made her knees weak. And, of course, that weakness had nothing to do with again seeing the gorgeous man she’d enjoyed a one-night stand with just hours ago. Memories of what they’d spent the night doing filled her cheeks with hot embarrassment, and she wished with all her being she’d known their last kiss this morning wouldn’t really be goodbye. She wished she had known before she’d fallen into bed with him. If she had, she most definitely would have resisted the delicious taste of his mouth and the all too seductive smile.
He was slouched in a hard chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, a Panama hat pulled over his face with just his sensuous lips visible. Lips that had touched every inch of her body, mortified heat rushed back to her face. Even sitting, his height made him stand out among the passengers sprawled everywhere in the airport. A battered leather bag sat next to his feet. His arms were folded across his chest and he looked sound asleep.
Dang it, this was all too awkward. She squirmed with discomfort at the very same time her nerve-endings tingled at the pleasure of seeing him again. Disgusted with herself, she took a deep breath, stepped closer and kicked his shoe. “Wake up. We need to talk.”
She saw him stiffen, but other than that he didn’t move, obviously pretending he hadn’t heard her. What—he thought she’d come all this way just to kiss him goodbye again? Been there, done that and now it was over between them. This was about business, not pleasure. But with that thought instantly came other thoughts. Thoughts of all the pleasure she’d enjoyed with him last night, which made her even more annoyed with herself.
“I know you’re not asleep, Trent Dalton. Look at me.” She kicked him in the ankle this time, figuring that was sure to get his attention.
“Ow, damn it.” He yanked back his leg and his finger inched up the brim of his hat until she could see the nearly black hair waving across his forehead. His light blue eyes looked at her, cautious and wary. “What are you doing here, Charlotte?”
“I’m here because you wouldn’t answer your stupid cell phone.”
“I turned it off. I’m on vacation.”
“If you’d left it on, I wouldn’t have had to spend an hour driving here, worried I wouldn’t catch you before you left. We have to talk.”
“Listen.” His expression became pained. “It was great being with you, and moving on can be hard, you know? But going through a long-drawn-out goodbye will just make it all tougher.”
“We can’t say goodbye just yet.”
“I’m sorry, Charlotte. I have to leave. I promise you’ll be fine.”
Of all the arrogant... Did he really think women had a hard time getting over him after one night of fun? Fabulous fun, admittedly, but still. She felt like conking him on the head. “Sorry, but you have to come back.”
“I can’t,” he said in a soft and gentle voice, his blue eyes now full of pity and remorse. “We both knew we only had one night together. Tomorrow will be better. It will. In a few weeks, you’ll forget all about me.”
“You are so incredibly full of yourself.” She couldn’t control a laugh that ended in a little snort. The man was unbelievable. “Our fling was over the second you kissed me goodbye, tipped your hat and left with one of your adorable smiles and the “maybe see ya again sometime, babe” parting remark. What would make you think I had a problem with that? That’s not why I’m here.”
He stared at her, and she concentrated on keeping her expression nonchalant, even amused. She wasn’t about to give him even a hint that she would think about him after he was gone.
“So why are you here, then?”
“I’m throwing out the new surgeon.”
“Throwing him out?” Trent sat up straight. “What do you mean?”
“The GPC contacted me to tell me they found he’d falsified his credentials. That he’d had his license suspended in the U.S. for alcohol and drug use—over-prescribing of narcotics.”
“Damn, so he’s a loose cannon.” He frowned. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not a good surgeon.”
“Just because we’re in the middle of West Africa doesn’t mean our docs shouldn’t be top notch. The GPC left it up to me whether I wanted him to work for us or not. And I refuse to have someone that unethical, maybe even doped up, working on our patients.”
“So when is the GPC sending a new surgeon?”
“As soon as possible. They think they can get someone temporary like you were in a few days, no more than a week. Then they’ll round up a doc who can be here for the year. All you have to do is come back until the temp gets here, or a day or two before.”
“I can’t. I just spent a solid year in India and I need a break before I start my new job in the Philippines. I have vacation plans I can’t change.”
She had to wonder what woman those plans might be with. “I don’t believe your vacation is more important to you than your job.”
“Hey, the only reason I worked twelve straight months was to pay for my vacation.”
“Yeah, right.” She made a rude