There’s a crisis in paradise!

But is her heart at risk...?

When Dr. Amber Berkeley met ruggedly handsome Jack at a conference in Hawaii, she never imagined they’d end up locked down together in the middle of a hurricane! Army doc Jack’s take-charge attitude pushes straight-talking Amber’s buttons—until their sparks ignite into a fierce attraction! Amber has a “no doctors” dating rule for good reason, but amid disaster rules are meant to be broken...

SCARLET WILSON wrote her first story aged eight and has never stopped. She’s worked in the health service for twenty years, having trained as a nurse and a health visitor. Scarlet now works in public health and lives on the West Coast of Scotland with her fiancé and their two sons. Writing medical romances and contemporary romances is a dream come true for her.

Also by Scarlet Wilson

A Touch of Christmas Magic

The Doctor’s Baby Secret

One Kiss in Tokyo...

Christmas in the Boss’s Castle

A Royal Baby for Christmas

The Doctor and the Princess

The Mysterious Italian Houseguest

A Family Made at Christmas

The Italian Billionaire’s New Year Bride

Resisting the Single Dad

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Locked Down with the Army Doc

Scarlet Wilson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07517-6

LOCKED DOWN WITH THE ARMY DOC

© 2018 Scarlet Wilson

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to all the loyal readers

of Medical Romance all over the world.

Thank you for letting me write for you

and for enjoying Medical Romance.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

AMBER BERKELEY LEANED against the wall of the elevator as it descended to the ground floor. The doors reflected a kind of odd image. She’d forgotten to check in the mirror before she left. Her half-up-half-down hair looked like some kind of bewildered lost animal on her head. She let out a laugh. She didn’t even want to know what her bright pink lipstick looked like. Truth was, she didn’t really care.

Tonight’s ball was bound to be full of specialists and consultants who were all too important to breathe. She loved her job, but some doctors just seemed like a different breed entirely. Self-important. Self-interested. Amber didn’t waste much time on people like those.

Tomorrow she was lecturing at one of the most prestigious conferences in the world. And she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t nervous. Hawaii was a magnificent setting. One hundred per cent more gorgeous than most of the places she visited. The Disease Prevention Agency tended to send their staff to investigate outbreaks and try and prevent the spread of infectious diseases.

Most of her time was either spent in the main base at Chicago, or on one of many expeditions as part of a team, generally to places with few or poor facilities.

This five-star hotel in Hawaii was like something out of a dream. She’d even been greeted by the traditional colorful leis on check-in. And, corny or not, she’d liked them. The beach outside had perfect golden sand with sumptuous private loungers and straw parasols complete with serving staff. This part of the main island near Kailua Kona was a perfect piece of paradise.

Her first-floor room had a gorgeous view of the Pacific Ocean, which seemed to change color depending on the time of day. So far today it had gone from clear turquoise blue to light green. Shimmering like a tranquil soft blanket stretching to infinity.

As the doors pinged and slid open, the noise and the aromas of the food surrounded her. The room was full of people talking, a sea of dark tuxedos with a smattering of colored dresses in the mix. She threaded her way through, keeping her chin raised as she glanced from side to side. She had to know someone here. But the sea of faces didn’t reveal anyone familiar. Amber’s nose twitched. She wanted easy company. A chance to share a few drinks, grab a few snacks and get rid of the butterflies in her stomach for tomorrow.

She stared at a sign on the wall. Ah...there were two conferences on in the hotel—not just the one she was attending. It seemed that a world of business and economic experts were here too.

Just before she’d left, the director of the Disease Prevention Agency had called her into his office. She’d only seen the inside of his office walls on two previous occasions. Once, on the day she’d started. And second, on the day she’d received her promotion.

“Dr. Berkeley,” he said solemnly. “I wanted to wish you well for tomorrow. There’s been a lot of interest in our contribution to the conference. Thank you for presenting the meningitis research for us.”

Amber gave a nod and a smile. “I’ve loved being part of the meningitis work. I’m honored to present on it.”

The director nodded. “And you’re confident you can answer any questions?”

Amber held up the list in her hand. “I’ve spent the last few months eating, breathing and sleeping meningitis. I think I’ve got it covered.”

The director didn’t even blink. “Oh, I’m not worried for you.” His eyebrows rose as she stood from her chair. “I’m worried for them. Let’s hope they’re ready for you, Dr. Berkeley.”

She’d smiled as she’d left. It seemed that her take-no-crap attitude was getting a reputation of its own. She wasn’t embarrassed by it. Not at all. She’d never seen the point in beating around the bush. She’d always talked straight, to patients and to colleagues. Medics could be notoriously sexist. And Amber could be notoriously blunt.

Had it cost her a few jobs? Maybe. Had it earned her a few others? Definitely.

A guy with a paunch belly and gaping shirt approached her, beer sloshing from his glass. “Hello, gorgeous. Where are you going to?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Away from you.” She didn’t even glance at the lanyard round his neck. She had no intention of finding out his name.

She’d always vowed never to go out with a fellow medic. Life experience had taught her it wasn’t a good idea.

She glanced around the room again. This was probably her worst-case scenario, wall-to-wall fellow medics, with copious amounts of alcohol flowing.

A few seconds later she met another charmer who refused to let her step around him. “We must stop meeting like this.” He grinned as his hand closed around her forearm and his eyes ran up and down her body.

She didn’t hesitate. She flipped his arm up and twisted it around his back, catching him completely by surprise and thrusting him in the other direction as the woman next to her laughed out loud. “Yes, we must,” she said sharply.

The main bar in the center of the room was currently three people deep. Her chances of getting a drink were slipping further and further away.

Her eyes homed in on another bar on the far side of the room and through a set of doors. It looked much more sedate. She could have a glass of wine, check out the list of bar snacks then head back to her room and enjoy the view.

She threaded her way through the rest of the crowd. There were a few people who obviously knew one another sitting around tables. Even from here she could recognize the medic talk.

Right now she couldn’t stomach that. So she headed directly over to the stools at the bar. There was a broad-shouldered guy already sitting there. He looked as if his whiskey was currently sending him into a trance.

Perfect. Too drunk to be a pest.

Or if he wasn’t? She could deal with that.

She smiled as she sat down, crossed her legs and leaned her head on one hand. He might be tired but he was handsome. Actually, he was more than handsome. He was good-looking with an edge of ruggedness. His dark hair was a little rumpled and his suit jacket had been flung carelessly onto the bar stool next to him. She couldn’t get a look at his eyes as his head was leaning forward toward the glass. But she could see the lean muscle definition beneath his pale blue shirt, the slight tan on his skin and the hint of bristle around his jawline. She smiled and just couldn’t help herself. “Well, aren’t you just the original party pooper?”

* * *

Jack Campbell blinked and blinked again. Nope. It had definitely happened. Or maybe he was just hallucinating. He stared into the bottom of his whiskey glass again and clinked the ice.

The warm spicy aroma emanating from the woman sitting next to him started to surround him, just as she crossed her long legs on the high stool, revealing the daring split in her floor-length black dress.

Even from here, he’d noticed her the second she’d appeared at the entrance to the ballroom. She was taller than most women, but wasn’t afraid to use her height, combining her black sheath dress with a pair of heels and piling her dark hair with pink tips on top of her head. He’d watched her survey the room, ignore a few admiring glances, give short retorts to two men who dared to try and approach her and, now, she’d just crossed those exceptionally long legs and given him a clear view of them. Her black heels had ornate straps and crisscrossed up her calves.

At least he thought he’d watched her. Maybe he was dreaming. Truth was, he was so tired the only reason he was still awake was that his body was craving food. Food he seemed to have been waiting an eternity for.

He gave himself a shake. Maybe he needed another whiskey. The first one was putting him in that strange state between fact and fiction. His stomach rumbled loudly, so he lifted his hand to grab some nuts from a bowl on the bar. Quick as lightning, someone gave his hand a light slap.

For a second he was momentarily stunned. Then he shook his head and gave a smile of disbelief as he turned in his chair.

She was staring straight at him with a pair of bright blue eyes. He couldn’t help himself. It was as if the fatigue coupled with a dash of whiskey had reduced all his usual politeness and social norms to a scattering of leaves beneath his feet. “Did you really just hit me? For trying to eat a peanut?”

She gave a shrug. “Yeah, sorry about that. Force of habit.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t look too sorry.”

She pulled a face and waved her hand. “Actually, I’ve just saved you.”

Now he was amused. “Saved me from what?”

She shook her head and pushed the bowl away. “Probably some kind of horrible death. Best way to catch some kind of disease.” She shuddered. She actually shuddered. “If I sent those to a lab I could horrify you.”

He deliberately leaned over her, ignoring her orange-scented perfume, and plucked a nut from the bowl, holding it between his fingers. “One tiny little nut is going to fell me?”

She arched her eyebrows and blinked. There was black eyeliner flicked on her eyelid, enhanced by her thick extra-long lashes. With those blue eyes she really was a bit of a stunner.

“If I could put that in an evidence bag right now and send it to the lab I would.” She shrugged. “But, hey, it’s your poison. Your stomach.”

“This is how you meet people? You attack them at the bar and steal their food?”

For a second she looked momentarily offended, but then she threw back her head and laughed. She put her elbow on the bar and rested her head on it. “Actually, my ambition this evening is not to meet anyone—I just wanted to grab a drink, some food and get out of here.”

He gave a slow nod. “Ah, great minds think alike, then.”

She looked a little more conciliatory. “Maybe. Sorry about the slap. Bar snacks make me testy. It really is an automatic reaction.”

He laughed. “How many states have you been arrested in?”

She sighed. “More than you could ever know.”

He could see the way her careful eyes were watching him, obviously trying to size him up. He liked her quick answers and smart remarks. He mirrored her position, leaning his head on his hand for a second as a wave of tiredness swept over him.

And then she spoke. “I’m trying to work out if you’re drunk or just in a coma. I’m warning you—I’m off duty tonight.”

The corners of his lips headed upward. Maybe he was imagining all this? Maybe he was already dreaming? Or maybe the jet lag was making him see things. If this was a hallucination, those words were so not what he was expecting. He let out a laugh. “I could actually be a bit of both. Jet lag and drinking—” he held up the whiskey glass “—are probably not the best idea in the world. But do I care right now?” He shook his head as he downed the remains at the bottom of the glass. “Not really.”

Now she laughed as the bartender came over and set a coaster in front of her. “Well, the jet lag explains the accent. But not the complete disregard for your fellow man.”

The bartender caught her eye. “What can I get you?”

She looked at his glass. “I’ll have what Mr. Happy’s having.”

Jack raised his eyebrows at the bartender. “Better just put both on my tab.”

She drummed her fingernails on the bar next to him. “Who said I wanted you to buy my drink?” Her overall presentation was quite glamorous but her nails were short and clean. Curious. Most women these days tended to have glittery painted talons.

“Don’t drink it,” he said smartly. “I can easily drink both.”

She smiled. A genuine, wide smile. The pink tips of her hair matched the bright pink on her lips.

“You are easily the most crabbit man in the room.” She gave a wink. “Is that Scottish enough for you? I learned that from a Scottish colleague.”

He tried not to smile as he nodded his head and furrowed his brow. “It’s a well-used word. My granny might have called a few people crabbit in her time.”

She gave a smile. “Yeah, crabbit. I like that. It means you won’t be a pest.”

“But you will be.”

“Ouch,” she said as the bartender brought over the drinks.

She lifted the glass to her nose and sniffed. “What is this, anyhow?”

“Guess.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Oh...guessing games. I know it’s whiskey. I’ve just no idea what kind. And here was me thinking tonight was going to be totally boring.”

He liked her. He was actually beginning to wake up a little. But that still didn’t stop him putting his head on the bar for a few seconds. He closed his eyes and murmured, “I’m dreaming of snacks. I’ve only eaten airline food for the last twenty-eight hours. And you’ve stolen the peanuts.”

She was still sniffing the whiskey but laughed anyway and grabbed a bar menu. “Haven’t you ordered?”

He sighed as he lifted his head again. “I think I ordered around ten hours ago. Apparently the kitchen is busy, but—” his fingers made the quote signal in the air “—it’ll get here soon.”

She set down the whiskey glass and gestured to the bartender. “Actually, can you give me a glass of rosé wine instead, please?” She gave Jack a sideways glance as she pushed the glass toward him. “This is too rich for my tastes.”

He was still leaning on his hand. After a few hours in a fugue, his brain was kick-starting again, along with his dormant libido.

“I’ve never really met anyone like you before,” he murmured.

Her eyes narrowed. “Is that a pickup line?”

He laughed. “I’m too tired and too lazy to try and pick you up, right now. But, hey, look me up tomorrow. I’ll probably have a whole new lease of life.”

“With those circles under your eyes, I doubt you’re even going to see tomorrow. I bet you sleep right through.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no. I have to see tomorrow. I’m speaking—at the conference.” He gestured behind her. “I should probably be in there right now, trying to charm my way around the room and into a new job.”

“You’re looking for a new job?” She gave a half smile. “What? Been fired from everywhere in Scotland?”

The bartender set down her wine in front of her, along with the biggest burger and plate of fries Jack had seen in forever. He couldn’t help it. “Praise be. Food of the gods.”

She sipped her wine and he could feel her watching him with interest as he snagged a fry. “I’m warning you. Try and put any of this in an evidence bag and I’ll have to wrestle you to the floor.”

She pushed up from her bar stool, leaning over to steal one of his fries. “You Scots guys. You think you’re tough. You ain’t got nothing on a girl from Milwaukee.”

She bit into the fry and nodded. “Better than it looks. And, because it came fresh from the kitchen, I won’t tell you any horror stories about it. I save them for the bar snacks.”

Her stomach growled loudly and he couldn’t help but laugh again.

He picked up his knife. “Okay, then, mystery woman. Since you’re obviously the least boring person in the room, I’ll make a deal and share with you.” He waved the knife at her. “But let’s be clear. This isn’t normal behavior for me. I’m just too tired to fight.”

He cut the burger in half and pushed her half toward her. “But no more insults. And—” he looked down at her long legs “—I still think I could take you.”

She picked up her half. He liked that. A woman who didn’t pussyfoot around her food. “Okay, then. Because I’m starved and can’t be bothered to wait for room service, I’ll take your offer.” She gave him a sideways look. “You haven’t even told me your name.”

He nodded as he poised the burger at his lips. “Kinda like it that way.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Me too.”

She waited a second then added, “Are you really here looking for a job?”

He waited until he’d finished chewing. “I’m still officially in employment for the next two weeks. After that?” He held out one hand. “The world is my oyster. I’ve had a couple of offers. Haven’t decided whether to take them up or not.”

“Don’t you need a paycheck?”

He paused for a second. “Of course I do. But right now, it’s more important I take the right job, rather than just the first one that comes along.”

She studied him for a few seconds. He could see a whole host of questions spinning around in her brain, but she was far too smart to ask. Instead she grinned as she stole another fry. “Makes you sound old.”

“You think?”

“Definitely.”

He shook his head. “I’m not old. I’m just...well-worn.”

She laughed again as she took another sip of wine. “At what? Thirty? Thirty-five?”

He choked. “Thirty-five?” He patted one of his cheeks. “Wow. I was really conned by that moisturizer. I wonder if it’s got a money-back guarantee.”

He leaned a little closer. “I’ll have you know I have a whole ten days before I reach the grand old age of thirty-five.”

He narrowed his gaze as he looked at her again. “But two can play at that game.” He gave a slow nod and took his time letting his gaze go up and down her length. “I’m guessing, forty? Forty-six?”

She let out a little shriek. “Forty-six! Oh, no way, buster. You’ve had it now.” She leaned over him again, her soft skin brushing against his as she lifted the whole bowl of fries out of his reach.

“Not the fries!”

She perched the bowl in her lap and nodded solemnly. “Surely you know a woman of my maturity needs to keep her strength up.”

He liked her. He liked her a lot. The room opposite was full of anxious glances and too much “my qualifications are better than yours.” Too many people wanting to talk about how wonderful they were as loudly as they could.

Jack was here for one reason. To present his research. To let people know he’d found something that had made a huge difference in a wartime setting. The difference between life and death.

That was the privilege of being an army doctor. He got to try things—sometimes out of desperation—that private clinics and hospitals around the world would throw their hands up at in shock.

But, so far, some of the best medical inventions ever had come from the battlefield. Freeze-dried plasma, handheld inhalers for pain relief, a specially designed applicator for ketamine to treat trauma casualties, and his own particular find—a type of wound dressing part clay, part algae that stopped severe bleeding in under twenty seconds. It had already saved over a hundred casualties who would have surely died. If they started using it in trauma bays around the globe, it could potentially save millions.

Ms. Mystery next to him leaned over and put her hand on his arm. “Hey? Everything okay?”

The feel of her warm hand sent pulses up his arm. He blinked. “Yeah, of course.”

She gave a gentle smile. “Thought I’d lost you for a second there. Maybe the jet lag is getting to you after all.” Her tone had changed a little. It was almost as if she’d just had a look inside his brain for a second and seen what he’d been lost in.

He gave a small sigh and tried to imagine meeting her in any other set of circumstances than these. “If I was any kind of gentleman, I should be trying to charm you and be swirling you around the ballroom floor in there.”

She leaned her head on her hand. “But that’s what I like. You’re not trying to charm me. In fact, I should be insulted, because it seems as if you couldn’t care less.” She wrinkled her nose. “I did hear that Scots guys could be grumpy.”

He straightened up. “Hey, that’s the guys from Edinburgh. Not the guys from Glasgow.” He tugged at his shirt, trying to make himself look more presentable. “And anyway, I have charmed you. I bought you chips.”

She stared down at the bowl. “Chips?”

He shook his head. “You call them fries. We call them chips.”

She pointed to a box behind the bar. “Oh, no. Those are the chips.”

He smiled and leaned a little closer. “No, no. They’re crisps. And I was just being polite earlier, calling them fries. Didn’t want to confuse you.”

She threw back her head and laughed, revealing the pale skin on her long neck, then shook her head and leaned a little closer. “The more tired you get, the stronger your accent gets. Any more Scottish and I’ll need a translator.”

His brow furrowed. “Nothing wrong with my accent. You just need to pay attention—concentrate a little more.”

“Says the man who is sleepwalking at the bar.”

He waved a fry with his fingers. “I’m not sleepwalking—I’m sleep-eating. There’s a difference.”

She leaned over and snagged another fry. They were dwindling faster than should be possible. This woman was smart, confident and full of sass. He liked that. “So, what brings you here?”

She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Yeah, yeah, I should be in there too. Schmoozing. But the truth is, I’m not much of a schmoozer.”

He raised his eyebrows in mock horror. “You don’t say?”

“Hey.” She smiled. “It’s my one and only true failing as an adult.”

“You’ll admit to one?”

She nodded solemnly. “One, and only one.” Then she laughed and shook her head. “But you? I bet I could write a whole list.”

Her stomach gave a little grumble and she started, putting one hand on it as a little pink flushed her cheeks. “Oops, I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

He looked down at the plates. All remnants of the burger were gone and there were only a few fries left in the bowl.

“I could eat the whole thing again.” He sighed.

She looked a little sheepish. “Sorry, I just stole half of your dinner.” She waved over the bartender. “Can we order the same again, please?”

The bartender leaned closer. “I have to be honest. The kitchen is a little slow this evening and bar food is even slower. Between you and me, the quickest way to get served is to order room service. You’ll get it in half the time because they prioritize those orders.”

Jack paused for only a few seconds, and then he stood up. He nodded to the bartender. “You know my room number—can you put it through as a room-service order?”

The bartender glanced between them briefly then nodded. “Of course, sir. Any drinks to go with the food?”

Jack leaned on the bar. “Any drinks for you?”

Ms. Mystery looked stunned for the briefest of seconds. Then he saw that sparkle in her eyes again. He wasn’t propositioning her—not tonight at least. He was still hungry and she was good company. He had no qualms about inviting her to his room.

“Diet cola,” she said quickly as she stood up from her bar stool. There was a hint of a smile on her lips. He hadn’t even had to make the invite; he’d just worked on the assumption she would join him. And it seemed she was taking up the challenge.

He turned back to the bartender. “Make that two, thanks.”

The bartender disappeared and he crooked his elbow toward her. “Looks like I’m about to buy you dinner for the second time this evening.” He glanced toward the packed ballroom, then paused. “You okay with this?”

Her eyes scanned the ballroom too and she gave the briefest shake of her head. “I have the strangest feeling I might be in safe hands with you, Mr. Grumpy Scot. I think I can take the chance.” She laughed. “And to think, I took this position at the bar because you looked like the least trouble in the room.”

As they headed toward the elevators, he couldn’t resist. “Honey, I’m more trouble than you could ever imagine.”

CHAPTER TWO

AMBER GLANCED AROUND the foyer and tugged nervously at her black suit jacket. She rubbed her cheek self-consciously, wondering if the imprint of her Scotsman’s shirt button had finally left her skin.

It was embarrassing. One minute they were laughing and joking, legs stretched out on the bed after they’d shared the second burger; next she was blinking groggily, aware of the rise and fall of a muscular chest beneath her head. She’d peeled herself back oh-so-carefully, removing the arm and leg she had draped around his sleeping form.

For a few seconds she lay rigid on the bed next to him, her mouth dry, trying to work out what had happened. But it only took a few seconds to orientate herself. Nothing had happened. Nothing at all. She was still fully dressed—the only items missing were her shoes, which were strewn across the floor alongside her bag. He was minus his jacket and shoes too, but his trousers and shirt were still firmly in place.

She took a few steadying breaths. His room was almost identical to hers, so she slid almost in slow motion from the bed, gathered her things and tiptoed to the door. It was ridiculous. All that had happened was they’d fallen asleep. Now she thought about it, he’d fallen asleep first and she’d been so relaxed and so tired; she’d meant to get up a few minutes later. Instead it seemed she’d snuggled up for the night.

As she closed the door behind her while holding her breath, she wondered if she should be offended. They hadn’t even kissed. And he was more than a little hot. Maybe he hadn’t been attracted to her?

By the time she’d reached her room she’d started to get mad. Irrational and pointless, but, hey, that was just her. Half an hour later she was showered, hair tied back and looking as pristine as she could. She grabbed some coffee and fruit at the breakfast buffet and sat down at a table for a few moments.

This presentation was important. She was representing her agency to more than five hundred delegates. She could make connections today that could help her career. Not that she had ambitions right now. She loved her job. But the work the Disease Prevention Agency did was international. Having contacts across the world was always helpful. Last night had thrown her off balance a little. And she couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. Nerves weren’t usually a problem for her but she couldn’t pretend her stomach wasn’t currently in knots. She stared at the huge breakfast buffet then back to her untouched fruit. Apple. She picked a few pieces of apple out of the bowl with her fork then followed up with a large glug of coffee.

There was a rumble around the room immediately followed by heads turning. It was almost like being in a room of bobbing meerkats. Her eyes flickered out to the horizon. The ocean looked a little darker and there were some black clouds in the far-off distance. There were a few nervous laughs around her. “Maybe it was one of the volcanoes telling us all to behave,” said someone close to her.

“I don’t know,” said one of the women close by in a tone Amber didn’t quite like. “I wonder if it could be something else.”

Just then the doors to the main auditorium opened and people started to file inside. Amber glanced at her program. It was over an hour until she had to speak. The conference organizers had already told her the presentation was prepared. All she had to do was stand at the podium and talk. She’d initially planned to wait outside and practice, but her churning stomach told her that probably wouldn’t do anything to quell her nerves. Maybe listening to someone else would be enough distraction to keep her calm.

She picked up her things and let herself be carried in with the crowd, taking a seat near the aisle in a row close to the back of the auditorium. Within a few minutes the lights dimmed and a professor from one of the national organizations delivered the introductory speech. “Our first speaker is Jack Campbell, Senior Medical Officer in the Royal Army Medical Corps. Dr. Campbell has just finished his second tour of duty. As many of you will know, some of our most widely used medical products were first introduced on the battlefield—and it looks like we’re about to hear about a new revolutionary product that could help save lives across the globe. I give you Dr. Jack Campbell.”

There was a round of applause in the room as a man in uniform walked across the stage to the podium. Amber blinked. Then blinked again.

A medic. He was a medic.

As he started to speak, her skin tingled almost as if his familiar accent were dancing across it. Jack. His name was Jack. The man she’d spent the night wrapped around was delivering one of the keynote speeches of the conference.

Every hair on her body stood on end. Nothing had happened last night. Nothing. But...it could have, if they both hadn’t fallen asleep.

Her stomach did a flip-flop. She’d spent the last ten years avoiding any close relationships with fellow medics. And now she’d just accidentally spent the night wrapped around one. Hardly her most defining moment.

Why hadn’t she asked more questions? The truth was, as soon as she’d realized he was Scottish she’d assumed he must be part of the business and economic conference. The UK had the NHS—a government-run health service. Her brain had automatically told her that it was unlikely the NHS would send a doctor to the other side of the world for a conference. But a private business—they probably sent employees to international conferences on a weekly basis. And she’d just automatically put him into that slot.

She gave a tiny shudder. That was what happened when you made assumptions. She lifted her head and looked at him again, angry with herself.

She’d found him attractive. She’d liked flirting with him. The truth was, more than she’d expected to. And now he was here. Standing right in front of a room full of professionals and addressing the room.

And boy, could he speak. She sat mesmerized along with the rest of the audience as he described his time in Afghanistan and the sometimes limited resources. He showed a new wound dressing he’d developed—a mixture of clay and algae that could stop severe bleeding and form a clot within twenty seconds.

Amber could almost see the ears pricking up in the room and people sitting a little straighter in their seats. Those twenty seconds could be the difference between life and death.

His accent drew the audience in—as did his demeanor. He was a commanding figure, especially in uniform. He spoke with passion about his work, but was also realistic and even a little self-deprecating. All things that had drawn her to him last night. He acknowledged everyone who’d worked alongside him, fellow doctors, surgeons and army medics. He showed pictures of some of the soldiers who had been treated and had their lives saved by this dressing that had been used in the field. Finally he showed cost pricing for the wound dressings along with approximations of lives that could be saved across the world. She could sense the buzz in the air; it was almost infectious.

Then he just stopped.

After a few seconds people started glancing nervously at each other. The presentation had finished and his image was now being shown on the large screen behind him in intimate detail. As she watched she could almost swear she saw a little twitch at his right eye—those brown eyes that had almost seemed to bewitch her last night. She gave herself a shake. Where had that come from?

His eyes seemed to focus and he started talking again. “This product was conceived in a place of war. It was needed. It was essential to save lives—and it will be essential to saving lives in the future. War is never a situation you want to be in. People die. Families are devastated and lives change...forever.”

He took a deep breath. “What makes me sad is that we need something like this. I’m sad that, even though we’re no longer in a time of war, because of gun and knife crime, this product will continue to be needed.”

His words echoed across the room. It was the way he said them, the change in timbre of his voice. She could hear the emotion; she could almost reach out and touch it. Even though the temperature in the room was steady, she could swear that a cool breeze swept over her, prickling the hairs on her arms.

People around her were openmouthed. Then slowly, but surely, applause started throughout the room. Within a few seconds it gathered pace and Amber couldn’t help but smile as she glanced at the nods of approval and the conversations starting around her.

“Do you think we should get it?”

“It would be perfect for paramedics.”

“What an investment opportunity...”

The professor crossed the stage again, shaking Jack’s hand enthusiastically. He then launched into the next introduction. “Our next speaker is a doctor from the Disease Prevention Agency.”

Amber felt a wave of panic.

“Amber Berkeley has been working there for the last five years. She specializes in meningitis and will be presenting some of the latest research into emerging strains. Please welcome Dr. Amber Berkeley.”

Darn it. She stood up quickly. She’d come in looking for distraction and Jack Campbell had certainly met the criteria. Usually she would spend the five minutes before a presentation going over things in her head and taking some time to do controlled breathing. But she hadn’t even thought about the presentation the whole time she’d been in here. Somehow her attention had all been focused on her mystery almost-suitor from last night.

She walked smartly down the auditorium, climbing the steps and shaking the professor’s hand. Her heart was thudding so loudly she almost expected everyone else to hear it.

She glanced at Jack, who was giving her an amused look. Rat fink. Could he sense her panic? “Dr. Berkeley,” he said with a nod of his head as the corners of his lips turned upward.

“Dr. Campbell,” she answered as coolly as she could, trying not to take in how he filled out his army fatigues. She was sure he could have worn his more formal uniform for an event like this, but somehow the fatigues suited him—made him look more like Jack.

Her hands were shaking slightly as she set them on the podium, waiting for the professor and Jack to leave the stage. She tried to still her thoughts and let her professional face slide into place. She’d always been bothered with nerves. It was weird. Put her in a clinical situation—even an epidemic—and she could deal with the pandemonium of that no problem. Put her in a classroom setting, or even an interview setting, and her heart would race at a million miles an hour, making her thoughts incoherent and her words even worse. She’d had to work at this. She’d had to work hard.

She took a few deep and steadying breaths. Truth was, she could do this presentation in her sleep. She knew the information inside out. But could she present with the commitment and compassion that Jack just had? He was a hard act to follow.

A horrible queasiness came over her. That familiar feeling of not being good enough. The way she’d constantly tried to prove herself to her father by getting perfect grades, being the first in her class, qualifying for med school—all just to gain a second of his attention. Those memories ran deep—even though her father was gone. She hated feeling this way. And as she looked out over the sea of expectant faces, she felt her anger spike.

She looked up as Jack descended the stairs to her right. At the last possible second he turned his head, gave her a cheeky grin and winked at her. Winked at her.

A little spurt of adrenaline raced through her body. The cheek. Right now, she could cheerfully punch him. Anything for an outlet to the bubbling frustration she was feeling inside.

She lifted her head and looked out at the still-waiting audience. She could do this. She could. She could be good enough. She could deliver her presentation with the same passion and commitment as he had. She would deal with Jack Campbell later. She tilted her chin upward and plastered her most professional smile on her face. “Thank you so much for inviting me here today...”

* * *

So her name was Amber Berkeley. It suited her. A tiny bit quirky, with a hint of grace.

He’d had no idea she was a speaker at the conference. That was the thing about not sharing names and trying to be a little mysterious—it made you miss out on other things.

He’d left the stage and stood at the back of the auditorium listening to her. Her nerves were clearly evident. Her hands had been shaking and she’d been white as a ghost as she’d stepped up to the podium. Last night she’d been brimming with casual confidence. He’d liked that better.

But as he’d stood and watched, the woman he’d met last night had slowly emerged. It was clear she knew and understood her subject matter. She spoke eloquently about meningitis and its spread, the way that the different viruses adapted and changed and the problems that could cause. He was impressed with the way she handled random questions that were thrown at her about the new emerging types of meningitis and the difficulties in diagnosing quickly enough for appropriate treatment.

He’d learned something new. And as she stepped down from the podium and walked back up the aisle toward him, he waited for her at the door, pushing it open as she approached.

The light in the foyer was bright compared to the auditorium. She stepped outside, blinked for a few seconds then unfastened her jacket and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“You winked at me, you cheeky...” She left the last word missing.

“Did I?” He raised his eyebrows.

She shook her head and sagged against the wall for a second. “Thank goodness that’s over.”

He looked surprised. “You were good. What on earth were you worried about?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Who said I was worried?”

“Do your hands normally shake?”

Her tongue was stuck firmly inside her cheek. She waited a second before replying, then pulled her shoulders back and started to walk past him. “For that, you owe me breakfast. I couldn’t eat anything earlier but right now I could probably eat the entire contents of the kitchen.”

He held his arm out, gesturing toward the nearby hotel restaurant, trying not to fixate on the swing of her hips in that skirt. “Your wish is my command.” Then he gave a little smile. “I seem to buy you a lot of food.”

She tutted and shook her head as she walked past him, letting one of the waiters show them to a table looking out over the Pacific Ocean. The wind had whipped up outside, bringing the earlier dark clouds closer and making all the parasols on the beach shake.

Amber glanced outside. “What’s that all about? I came here for sunshine and good weather.”

Jack shrugged. “Almost looks like a day in Scotland instead of Hawaii. Must just be in for a bit of bad weather.”

Amber sat down quickly as the waiter showed them to a table. She didn’t hesitate to order. “Can I have coffee, please? Not just a cup—a whole pot. And some eggs, sunny-side up, and some rye toast, please.”

Jack gave a nod and tried not to smile again. “I’ll have what she’s having—and some orange juice, please.” He waited until the waiter had left. “So, you didn’t want to hear the next speaker?”

She laid her hand on her stomach. “Are you kidding? If I’d stayed in there I’m sure all five hundred delegates would have heard my stomach rumbling. I had to eat.”

Her hair was tamer today, tied back in a slick ponytail instead of piled haphazardly on top of her head. The pink tips were just visible when she turned her head. The simple black suit and white shirt were elegant, but as they sat at the table, she pulled off her jacket and rolled up her shirtsleeves midway, revealing a host of gold bangles.

“You ducked out on me.”

She looked up quickly. For the briefest of seconds she looked a bit startled, but he could almost see her natural demeanor settling back into place. “How do you know I ducked out? You were too busy snoring.”

He shook his head. “I don’t snore. You, however...”

“You never told me you were a doctor.” The words were almost accusing.

“Neither did you.”

For a second she didn’t speak. It was almost like a Mexican standoff.

He could see her swallow, and then she gave him a haughty stare. “I don’t mix with fellow doctors.”

Jack leaned forward. “What does that mean?” He held out his hands. “And what do you call this?”

“This,” she said firmly, “is breakfast. Breakfast is fine.”

He kept his elbows on the table, wondering if he could lean even closer. “Oh, so I can buy you food. But you can’t spend the night with me?” He wanted to laugh out loud. She sounded so uptight, and that seemed a total turnaround from the woman he’d met last night.

But now he was curious. “So, what exactly is wrong with doctors? After all, you’re one.”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “I know. It’s just...” He could see her try to find the words. “It’s just that I don’t like to mix work with...” She winced.

“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 developed. It was developed during army time, so they have a part ownership, as do the original creators of the components.” He sighed. “I knew this could happen. As soon as I realized how good it was, I wanted to make sure that it wouldn’t end up being all about the money. That’s not why I did this—it’s not why we did this. And I know it’s good. I know it could save lives around the world, and that’s what I want it to do.”

She tipped her head to the side and studied him for a few seconds. “I like that.” The color had finally returned to her cheeks and she seemed more relaxed.

He gave her a smile. “Your presentation was good too. I know the basics about meningitis but not the rest. I had no idea just how quickly the strains were mutating.”

She pushed her plate away. “Thank you. The presentation was important. I’m the only person here from the DPA this time, and I wanted to be sure that I gave a good impression.” Her fingers were still wrapped around her fork, which she was drumming lightly on the table. “Monitoring infectious diseases is all about good international working.” She let out a little laugh. “Let’s just say that some of our counterparts have been a bit reluctant to share information in the past. In a world of international travel it makes contact tracing interesting.”

“Ouch.” Jack wrinkled his brow. He couldn’t imagine trying to contact trace across continents. It was bad enough on the few occasions he had to make an urgent call to a far-off relative, and that was with all the army resources at his disposal.

He topped up his coffee. “Want anything else to eat?”

She shook her head. “I think I’m done. Thank you for this.”

She kept staring at him, with a hint of a smile around her lips. He waited a few seconds then couldn’t help himself.

“What?”

This was odd. It was the most relaxed he’d been around a woman for a while.

But he liked this woman’s sense of humor. He liked her sassiness. And he was curious about the hint of vulnerability he’d seen on the stage. Not that it had stopped her—she’d gone on to deliver an impressive talk.

And he couldn’t help but be curious about the No Doctor rule she’d obviously decided to follow.

There was a rumble outside and they both glanced out at the darkening and choppy ocean. “I thought Hawaii was supposed to be sunshine, sunshine and more sunshine.” He frowned.

“Not forgetting the killer surf waves,” she added as she kept her eyes on the ocean. “I think you were right. It looks like you brought Scotland’s weather with you.”

He shook his head. “Believe me, you wouldn’t go into the sea in Scotland when it looks like that. Even on a roasting hot day, the sea still feels like ten below zero. On a day like today? You’d be a frozen fish finger.”

She burst out laughing. “A what?”

He wrinkled his brow and drew a tiny rectangle on the table with his finger. “You know, cod or haddock, covered in bread crumbs. For kids. They’re kind of rectangular.”

“Oh...” She nodded. “You mean a fish stick.”

The wrinkles grew even deeper. “A fish stick? What’s a stick about it? It’s a rectangle.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Well, what’s a finger about it?”

He waved his hand in mock exasperation. “You Americans.”

“You Scots,” she countered just as quickly.

“Is this what we’re going to do?” He couldn’t help himself. He lowered his voice. The look she gave him through her thick lashes sent tingles across his skin.

“What do you mean?”

He gestured to the table. “Eat food and argue about words. We’re starting to be a habit.”

She glanced at her watch. “A habit? After less than twenty-four hours? Has to be a new world record.”

He leaned his head on his hand. He really should go back in to the auditorium and listen to some of the other talks. He should be thinking about his career, and be circulating and making contacts the way he’d failed to last night. But somehow, like last night, the only contact he was interested in making was right in front of him.

Three days in Hawaii. That was how long he planned to be here. He could easily lose himself in three days with a woman like Amber Berkeley. She was smart. She was fun. And he could sense the spark between them.

In a way he was glad nothing had happened last night. It meant their flirtation could happily continue and he could find out a little bit more about her. All within the confines of the conference. Whether they attended any more talks or not was entirely a different story.

As for her No Docs rule? Rules were made to be broken. And they didn’t work together—never would. Maybe she could be persuaded to spend some more time together. His stomach gave the weirdest little lurch. He couldn’t believe he’d actually just thought like that.

He’d imagined landing in Hawaii to scorching sun, colorful flowers and interesting birds and wildlife. That was the picture he’d always had in his head.

He’d lived so long in his own little bubble that finding someone to exchange anything other than clinical findings with was odd. But odd in a good way.

He looked her straight in the eye. “You’ve never just met someone and clicked?”

She blinked for a second as if she wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Is this a trick question?”

He shook his head. “What? No.”

Then she tapped her fingers on the table slowly. “Okay, since you found out my name, did you look me up online?” She looked a little anxious.

He shook his head again. He was getting more confused by the second. “No. Why, should I?”

She hesitated for a few seconds then rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “There’s no point hiding it. If you search up my name you’ll find the whole news headlines. A very long time ago, when social media was a mere babe, and I was working as an intern, I met a fellow medic.” She lifted her fingers. “And I clicked.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “You clicked? Oh, no. You’re not getting away with that. What happened to the No Doctors rule?”

She sighed. “Let’s just say this was a huge contribution to the No Doctors rule.”

“Tell me more.”

She gave a slow rueful nod and held up her hands. He couldn’t quite work out the expression on her face; it was a mixture of sad, exasperated and just...tired. “I was duped, I admit it. Or I was charmed.”

“How charmed?” He was definitely curious. Amber didn’t seem like the kind of girl to be either duped or charmed. Maybe there was a reason for the slightly brash exterior?

“Charmed enough to plan a wedding.” She stopped for a second. “My father was a very accomplished surgeon, notorious for only picking the best of the best for his residents. He was also notoriously sexist. There were no women on his team. Charles used me, to get to him.” The words were matter-of-fact, but the way that she said them wasn’t.

“He did?” Jack couldn’t help the wave of disgust that swept over him and the way his heart twisted a little for her. “So what happened?”

She shrugged. “I found out on the morning of the wedding via an overheard conversation in the local hairdresser that he’d been boasting about getting on my father’s team, and worming his way in through me.”

“I thought women were supposed to drink champagne on the morning of their wedding.”

“Oh, I was drinking champagne as they pinned my hair up. I thought about it all the way home. I thought about it all the time I stepped into my dress and little things came into my head, like a giant jigsaw puzzle slotting into place. By the time I reached the church and saw him standing at the top of the aisle, the smug expression on his face told me everything I needed to know. I turned on my heels, picked up my dress and ran.”

“You ran?” He couldn’t actually believe it.

She gave a small nod. “Do an Internet search of Milwaukee Runaway Bride. That’s me.” A long slow breath hissed out from her lips. “Not really something I want to put on my résumé.” Her eyes looked up and met his. She gave a half shrug. “I hate the thought of people reading that about me online. It’s like a permanent stain on my character.”

She put her hands up to her forehead as if it ached, closing her eyes for a second. It was obvious she found this hard.

But she was being honest. He appreciated that. What would he have thought if he’d read this online? Probably, that she was a bit of an idiot, or that she was an attention seeker. Hearing it in person from her was an entirely different experience. He could tell that the whole experience had changed her.

“Regrets?” The words were out before he really thought about them, but Amber quickly shook her head as she lifted it from her hands.

“No. My father never spoke to me again. Nor did Charles. But then again, Charles lost his job the next day.”

“You never spoke to your father again?”

She shook her head again but didn’t look sad. Her words were more assured. “No. I was the ultimate disappointment. But then again, no matter how well I did, I’d always known that.”

He could almost see her physically bristle.

“What kind of surgeon was he?”

“Renal. Top of his game—until the day he died.”

“He wasn’t proud that his daughter was a doctor too?”

“Don’t think he even noticed.” Her answer was short and snappy. “Truth was, I wasn’t a boy. By the time I realized how little respect my father had for me, and my mother, I was done with him anyhow. He died a few years later and it actually set my mother free.”

Jack was a little surprised at her words but at least now he had half an understanding about her No Doctor rule. Of course, it didn’t make sense. But in her head, it did.

Then she took a deep breath and shook her head. “Let’s change the subject.” It was clear there was a lot more to this, but he could tell that she’d shared enough, and he respected her for that.

Her blue eyes met his and she sat up a little straighter in her chair, tilting her head at him. It was like a shock wave. When the anger and resentment left her face, Amber Berkeley was stunning. “You said last night you should probably be schmoozing. You’re almost not in the army now. What’s your plans, soldier?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why, are you offering me a job?”

She straightened her back and narrowed her gaze, imitating some kind of stern interviewer. “Well, let’s see. I know your qualifications. I know you’re from Scotland. I know you appear to be quite bright, and maybe even a little bit of a humanitarian.” She put her elbows on the table and leaned toward him. “Think you could cut it at the DPA?”

He gave a lazy kind of smile. “Not if you call chips fries.”

She sighed and waved her hand. “Oh, well, that’s it. Interview fail. I’m sorry, Dr. Campbell—looks like you have to work on your interpersonal skills.”

He nodded in agreement. In the corner of the room one of the conference staff had a phone in her hand and was talking quietly to one of the waiters and pointing toward their table. After a few seconds she approached. “Dr. Berkeley?”

Amber turned around in surprise. “Yes?”

“Would you mind taking a call from one of your colleagues from the DPA?”

Amber stared down at her bag for a few seconds, and then her face crumpled. “Darn it. I switched off my phone before I came down because I knew I’d be in the auditorium. I hope nothing is wrong.”

She held out her hand for the phone. “This is Dr. Berkeley.” He heard it instantly. The change in her tone, her professional persona slipping back into place. He wondered if he should move to let her take the call in privacy, but she didn’t seem to mind the fact they were still sitting together.

“Hi, Warren. Yes. No. Really?”

He watched as he could see her concentrating. After a few seconds she fumbled around in her bag. Jack reached into his fatigues and pulled out his pocketbook and pen, pushing them across the table toward her. She nodded gratefully as she flicked open the book and started to scribble. “Yip, what’s the name? Oh...how awful. Which strain? Yes. Do you have a contact at the local agency? At the admitting hospital? Okay. Can Drew give me a lab contact I can work with? I might have more experience at identifying the strain. Sure, no problem.” She glanced outside at the darkening sky. “No.” She gave a little smile, then met his gaze. “Things have been a little different than expected. Let me get on this.” She clicked the phone and sighed as she set it down on the table.

“Something wrong?”

She nodded. “A new unidentified strain of meningitis. One affected teenager. A request for assistance has been made to the DPA and since I’m here...”

She let her voice tail off. Jack spoke carefully. “It’s your specialty area—of course they should call you.”

She nodded. “I know. I’m lucky it’s meningitis. In the DPA you have to do a bit of everything. I’ve been in Africa looking at polio and sleeping sickness, Chicago, when we thought we might have a smallpox outbreak, and Washington and Texas for flu.” She gave a resigned kind of smile. “We get all over.” She stared over toward one of the windows. “Let’s just hope it’s only one case. I’m here by myself. If there’s any more and it turns into an outbreak, contact tracing could be a nightmare.”

It was all he needed to hear and he made his mind up instantly. Jack was never going to schmooze his way around this conference trying to find a suitable job. No matter how much his head told him he should, it just wasn’t in him to do it. He couldn’t do it. He was far more interested in finding out more about the woman sitting opposite him. It had been so long since he’d felt like this. She was sparking his interest in so many ways—so many ways that he hadn’t acknowledged in such a long time. He stood up. “Okay, then, let’s go.”

Amber’s eyes widened. “What?”

He shrugged. “No point in you going alone. And I guess you could always do with another pair of hands even though it’s not my specialty. If it turns into more than one case, you’ll need help. I can be that help. Why don’t you change, I’ll grab a few things from my room and I’ll meet you back down here in ten minutes?”

Amber looked a bit lost for words. She waved her hand toward the doors to the foyer. “But don’t you have to work the room, find a job?”

“I just flunked my last interview.” He gave her a wink. “I’ve been told I need to work on my people skills. No time like the present to start.”

She stood up and picked up her bag. “Are you sure about this?”

He gave the briefest of nods. “Let’s face it. You’re the most interesting person I’ve met here. Better stick around.”

He could swear that was relief on her face. “Okay, then, Dr. Campbell. I’ll meet you in ten.”

* * *

She’d never changed so quickly—just kicked off her heels and let her expensive suit crumple across a chair. She pulled on a pair of stretchy dark trousers, a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of flats. Because her wardrobe was mainly formal clothes for the conference—none of which she wanted to wear to the local hospital—she grabbed her least formal jacket, a khaki military-style one. She shook her head as she pulled it on. At this rate, she and Jack would look like a matching pair.

She dumped her purse and stuffed her wallet, phone and notebook into a small backpack. She’d learned over the years to travel lightly.

She still couldn’t believe he’d volunteered to come with her but she was secretly pleased. It didn’t matter that she was confident in her practice. It didn’t matter that she’d handled contact tracing for meningitis on numerous occasions. This was the first time she’d actually represented the DPA on her own. And it made her a tiny bit nervous. But from what little she knew of Jack Campbell, she hoped he would have her back.

He was already waiting as she walked back out to the main foyer. It was busier than she’d expected. Filled with anxious faces. Jack was standing among some other people.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Look at that rain.”

“What did they say about a weather warning?”

“I’ve never seen black clouds like that before. What happened to the sun?”

Jack was still wearing his fatigues; for the second time she tried not to notice how well they suited him. He smiled as he noticed her similar garb. “Are we ready to get started? I think we should move. Something seems to be happening.”

She nodded. “We need to go to the Hawaii Outbreak Center and Lahuna State Hospital.”

They walked across the foyer and out to the hotel main entrance. Both of the suited doormen were standing inside. They looked at her in surprise. “What’s your destination?”

Almost immediately the sharp wind whipped her ponytail around her face and she had to brace her feet to the ground. She glanced around as her jacket and shirt buffeted against her. Rain thudded all around her, bouncing off the ground. The streets were almost empty and she could feel the stinging sand on her cheeks picked up from the beach across the road. All of the straw beach umbrellas had tipped over and were rolling precariously around. No one seemed keen on rescuing them.

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