And it’s mighty hard to come by these days.’
No kidding. She knew that for a fact.
She turned in her seat, her attitude softening a bit as she watched him shove a dark lock of hair off his forehead with an attitude of resignation. ‘Every time someone leaves, you’re the one who has to break the news to the villagers, aren’t you? How long have you been with Projeto Vida?’
‘Long enough.’
‘Maybe it’s time you started thinking about packing it in yourself, Dr. Palermo.’
‘No.’ He glanced back at her. ‘And if you’re going to take a trial run down the river with me, you’ll need to call me Matt.
We try to be as informal as possible. The villagers will use your first name as well.’
She ignored the last part of his speech and concentrated on the first. ‘Trial run? I signed up for two years.’
He grunted. ‘So did the others.’
‘Maybe I’m tougher than they were.’ She smiled at him. ‘Maybe I’m even as tough as you.’
Dark brows winged upward. ‘Doubtful.’
‘That sounds suspiciously like a challenge.’
‘Does it?’
Stevie could swear his lips twitched as he said it and that the grooves where his frown lines sat became a little less pronounced. ‘It does. And you might be sorry later, because I rarely back down from a challenge.’
Unless it came from her cheating ex as she’d hightailed it for the nearest exit. If you leave now, you’ll have a black mark on your record! His shouted warning had cemented her decision to leave the hospital. To leave him.
‘We’ll soon see, won’t we?’ said Matt.
One of his tanned hands dropped from the wheel to the seat between them. There was a fresh cut across the knuckle of his middle finger that looked deep, and several old scars marring the back of his hand. Something about those hurts, old and new, made her stomach twist. This was a man who didn’t play it safe. Who put his all into everything he did. That was something Stevie could relate to. She’d gained a few new scars of her own over the last month or so.
‘You use protection, don’t you?’
He glanced over, eyebrows high. ‘Excuse me?’
Oops. That hadn’t come out right.
‘Surgical gloves,’ she clarified, touching a spot just beneath his cut, not sure where the urge came from. ‘Especially when you have injuries.’
He curled his fingers into a fist, the muscles in his forearm bunching. ‘Of course.’
‘Good.’ She gave a brisk nod as if the heat from his skin hadn’t just singed her. As if she wasn’t scrubbing her fingertips across her thigh in a vain attempt to remove the sensation.
He frowned, and Stevie realized he’d seen her reaction. Heat prickled along her scalp, and she turned her head to look out at the scenery. ‘How long until we get to the boat?’
‘About a half-hour.’ They hit another pothole, and she scrabbled for a handhold to avoid careening off the seat and onto the floorboards.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I keep forgetting you’re not used to roads like this.’
‘It’s okay. At least it’s not one big construction zone, like in New York.’
‘Which is why the roads there don’t swallow small children.’
She blinked. Wow, did the man actually have a sense of humor? Her mouth opened to respond when his cellphone went off.
He braked, fumbling to pull the phone from the holder on his belt. Stevie glanced back to make sure there were no cars heading their way, but the road was deserted, which made it odd that he’d stopped at all. Maybe he was a little more cautious than she’d thought.
‘‘Ello?’ He listened for a few seconds looking straight ahead. ‘Yep, she’s here. Listen, I told you what I wanted. Surely there were other appli—’
He sighed. ‘Just keep looking, will you?’
Her brows went up. So much for his ‘changing faces isn’t good for the cause’ spiel. It didn’t stop him from trying to swap her face for someone else’s post haste. Which meant she’d be out of a job, unless she went crawling back to Michael.
Fat chance of that happening.
‘I don’t know. She had quite a pile of suitcases, but she didn’t say anything about … Hold on.’ Matt pulled the phone away from his ear, glancing her way. ‘Mosquito nets?’
She nodded. ‘A hundred and fifty of them, just like Tracy asked for. I also brought a case of repellent wipes for use on board the boat.’ She frowned. ‘Don’t tell me you actually thought I had clothes in all those suitcases?’
Matt suddenly found himself unable to meet her eyes. Okay, so he’d misjudged her on one count. ‘Yeah, she brought them,’ he said into the phone.
‘Good,’ said Tracy. A few seconds of silence crawled by. ‘Listen, give her a chance, will you? You and I both know you need another doctor on that boat. So don’t say anything stupid.’ A laugh rose in his throat, which he quickly suppressed. Too late. He’d already said several stupid things. And for the past few minutes he’d suddenly realized how lonely his job was. The simple touch of Stefani’s fingers and the concern in her voice when she’d noticed the scratch on his hand had hit him in a dark corner of his mind.
He sent her a quick glance to find her staring out the side window in an obvious attempt not to eavesdrop. A long strand of hair had come loose from her bun and now trailed down her cheek, the tip curling just above her shoulder.
A strange sense of longing swept over him. What had Tracy been thinking, sending a woman? Didn’t she realize how flammable this situation could become? He tried to snuff out the image of Stefani’s long nimble fingers sliding across his skin, her surgeon’s brain dissecting and memorizing his every reaction. Or her long dark lashes fluttering shut as he …
He shook his head, realizing Tracy was waiting for his response. ‘Right. “Don’t say anything stupid.” I’ll do my best.’
She laughed. ‘Don’t make me come down there.’
As much as he wanted Tracy to witness her folly firsthand, he knew he couldn’t afford to hang around the port and do nothing. Waiting for Stefani’s arrival had already put him two days behind schedule, and he had people counting on him. As soon as they got to the boat, they needed to be on their way.
‘Your concern is duly noted, but I’m a big boy, in case you haven’t noticed.’
‘Oh, I have. And I’m counting on you to act like one.’
Paint—long peeling ribbons of white—clung to portions of the boat. Other sections were laid bare, like bones stripped of their flesh. Stevie could have been looking in a mirror at her own reflection.
She was pretty sure this wasn’t what Matt had in mind when he’d mentioned battlefield triage, but the vessel certainly looked like it had been through a warzone.
And come out on the losing end.
This couldn’t be the medical boat. She tugged the doorhandle on the Land Rover and stepped out of the car, while Matt went around and hauled her luggage from the back of the vehicle.
The wall-to-wall grins on the faces of two men who’d disembarked from the ship and now hurried toward them said her premonition was correct. This vessel was indeed going to be her home for the next two weeks. Who was she kidding? Try two years. She shut her eyes and sent up a quick prayer. She’d put her name on a contract, effectively signing away her life. She’d see the