Daniel moved up the path from the hotel through the trees to find Annabelle. Or at least he assumed she’d be somewhere along there, as it was the only path the goats had trekked enough to make it decent to walk on, with the rest of the hills covered in scrub brush and stones or steep, rocky inclines.
Just as he was wondering if maybe she’d somehow taken another route, he saw her sitting on the ground with her back against a tree, and paused. Her blond head was tipped downward, her hair skimming her cheeks. She took a last bite of whatever she’d been eating then brushed her hands down her chest then across her lap. His gaze became fixated on the slow movement of her hands moving down her chest a second time, molding the curves beneath her scrub shirt, nearly cupping her breasts, and a surprising flood of heat filled Daniel’s body as he pictured his own hands replacing hers.
No, not surprising. He and Annabelle might have their differences, but she was a beautiful woman and he was a warm-blooded man. Of course he found it impossible to not think about how she’d felt in his arms when he’d caught her earlier, those lush curves pressed against his body. To wonder what it would be like to kiss her lips, so soft-looking now compared to how they usually looked when she spoke to him—compressed and irritated.
He found himself wanting to just stand there and watch her, because he knew that all that softness would disappear as soon as she saw him. But he’d come to talk to her about their conflicts and her nonprofit equipment collection, and he needed to make that happen while he had the chance.
His movement toward her must have caught her attention, as she lifted her gaze to his. Sure enough, her pretty lips pinched together and her gorgeous eyes narrowed. As far as she was concerned, he was obviously the enemy, and he didn’t know if there was a way to fix that, considering everything. But he had to try, to make the whole team more comfortable in the OR during the time she was still here.
“Before you go off on me, I have a couple things I want to talk to you about,” he said, lifting his palm to stop whatever angry comment she was clearly ready to fling his way.
“What this time? Have you convinced the mission heads that I’m too incompetent to even work at the other clinic? Thrown your weight around the way you did in Philadelphia? Made a plane reservation for me to go back to the States right this minute, dragging a bad reputation home with me?”
“No, I want to talk to you about your good reputation.”
She folded her arms across her chest and glared. “Yeah, right. This isn’t a cold day in hell, you know.”
In spite of everything, his lips quirked at what a spitfire she was. “Doesn’t need to be a cold day in hell for me to tell you that you’ve done a good job here so far, and that I know you’ll do fine work at the clinic in Huancayo.”
A suspicious stare was her only response, and he forged on, hoping they could at least make a little progress toward having a better working relationship.
“And Jennifer just told me about your Med Mission Wishes organization. It’s a good thing, a valuable thing, and I should have thought of it myself. But since I didn’t, I’d like to find out how I can bring it to my hospital, too.”
“You’re not finding a reason to criticize me for it?” Her eyebrows rose in clear surprise, and there was no mistaking the skeptical look she sent him. “You want your hospital to participate?”
“Of course I wouldn’t criticize you for it. How could I, when it’s a brilliant idea? And you know the size of the hospital where I work, the amount of equipment we’d be able to donate.”
He dropped down onto the dirt and soft plants surrounding the tree to sit next to her. Because his back was tired from standing all day he let himself lean back against it, nearly shoulder to shoulder with her. It felt oddly comfortable, and he was glad she didn’t scoot away. “I want to get your bins set up there, learn about the distribution and where all it goes around the world. How to ensure some of it gets sent here, to the various clinics in Peru.”
“Having your hospital in the loop would be good. I already know you have an obnoxious amount of clout there and think everyone should do your bidding. But in this case it would be helpful.” She tipped her head and seemed to study him, and he found himself mesmerized by the little flecks of green and gold inside the beautiful blue of her eyes.
For what seemed like long seconds they just looked at one another. Apparently, she finally decided he was completely sincere, since the suspicious frown vanished. “All right. After I get home, I’ll send you all the information about how to sign up and how it works, and hopefully the hospital administrators will agree.”
“I’ll make it happen.”
“Always the autocrat.” She rolled her eyes. “But just this once I appreciate that about you. It’s a deal, though you or someone else from the hospital will have to earmark some of it for Peruvian clinics, as that’s done at the local level.”
“I’ll take care of that. Thank you.”
“You thanking me for something,” she murmured, looking up at him as though she genuinely found it incomprehensible. “Now, there’s a shock.”
“I’ve thanked you in the OR. I know I have. You only hear the negative when it’s me speaking.”
“Maybe. And with good reason.”
“Annabelle.” He found himself reaching for her soft hand without thinking, and was surprised she let it stay in his grasp. “I want us to have a good working relationship. Mutual respect is important to a smoothly operating OR, and even though it might irritate you to hear me say it again, a cohesive team is important for surgeries to go as well as possible.”
“I agree. The problem is, you don’t respect me.”
Along with the flash of frustration and indignation in her eyes, was he seeing something like self-doubt? In every one of their interactions, five years ago and here, she’d come out fighting for herself. Was it bravado, hiding some kind of insecurity? Was she not as confident as she seemed?
“I do respect you.” He leaned closer, wanting her to really hear him. “Today I realized that I haven’t given you the praise you deserve. I’ve seen that you’re good at your job and great with patients. It’s just that I need to know with one hundred percent certainty that everyone on a team doing open-heart surgeries is the absolute best. Surely you can understand that, after what happened before, I—”
His phone jangled in his pocket, and he nearly didn’t answer it, wanting to finish this conversation. Impatient, he fished it out and saw a number he didn’t recognize.
“Daniel Ferrera.”
“Dr. Ferrera, it’s Luciana, at the Huancayo clinic. I’m here getting it cleaned up and ready to open. A little while ago I was surprised when a family banged on the door. They heard we were opening and were worried about their eight-month-old. He’s been in respiratory distress, wheezing. Hasn’t been eating well. They thought he had a bad cold and might need some medication. So I listened to the baby’s chest, and I’m positive he’s in congestive heart failure. Luckily, we still have an old echocardiogram machine here, and it showed deep and wide waves. Seems to be ALCAPA.”
“Damn.” If Luciana was right, there was a real risk of sudden cardiac death for the child. “I need to get there. We’ll leave as soon as possible, but it’s at least a three-hour drive. I’ll bring the anesthesiologist we have here. You have the equipment we need?”
“No. There’s nothing here right now.”
“I’ll see what we have that we can bring. Expect us no later than eleven, and be ready to assist.”
“Got it.”
“We need to get to Huancayo tonight?” Annabelle’s question was asked in a matter-of-fact tone. Her angry expression and clear frustration with him was gone, replaced by a calm professionalism, and he had to give her credit for that. For putting