The set-up rarely varied no matter where they were in the world. A mess tent. Bathrooms and showers. An operation centre and the staff quarters.
A flap was pinned back on the tent that seemed to be the epicentre of the noise. Sullivan’s curiosity was piqued.
She had her back to him. Which was just as well as his eyes were immediately drawn to her tanned bare legs. She was wearing a rose pink T-shirt tied in a knot at her hip, revealing the curves of her waist. Her dark hair was in a ponytail that bounced along with her movements. But it was the khaki shorts that had caught his eye. Judging from the frayed edging, they’d obviously once been a pair of trousers and he’d like to shake the hand of the person who had cut them.
On her feet was a pair of heavy black army boots and a pair of rumpled socks. And those legs just kept going and going.
She was bouncing on her toes now. She wasn’t just dancing to the beat of Justin Timberlake. Oh, no. She was singing at the top of her voice. And this wasn’t just a casual bop about the place. This was a whole dance routine.
He dropped his bag and folded his arms in amusement as she slid from one side to the other, mimicking the movements the world had seen a million times in the dance video. She had rhythm. She had style.
And she had his full attention.
There was no doubt about it. His blood was definitely flowing through his body a little quicker now. This emergency mission had just got a whole lot more interesting.
Something sparked in his brain. Recognition. He could practically feel the hormones surge through his body. He couldn’t stop the smile dancing around the edges of his lips. For the first time in a long time there was a spark. A something. If he could grab this sensation right now and bottle it, he would.
Who was she again? He filtered through the names Gibbs had given him. Gabrielle somebody? Although he’d been with Doctors Without Borders for three years, it was impossible to meet everyone. There were thirty thousand staff covering seventy countries. They saved lives by providing medical aid where it was needed most—armed conflicts, epidemics, natural disasters, and other crisis situations. There were also longer-term projects designed to tackle health crises and support people who couldn’t otherwise access health care. Every day was different. He’d just spent three months covering a burns unit. The mission before that had been in Haiti, offering free surgery. The time before that had been in a DWB hospital in Syria, dealing mainly with paediatrics.
She lifted her hands above her head, giving him a better glimpse of the indentation of her waist and swell of her hips in those shorts. He couldn’t help but smile. This girl knew how to dance.
If he’d seen her in a club he would have been mesmerised. Her hips sashayed to the music. Her head flicked from side to side. Her whole body was bouncing. If they’d been in a club, he might even have fought the temptation to step up behind her, press his body against hers and join in. But they weren’t in a club. They were in the middle of the Narumba jungle.
Her feet crossed in the clunky boots and she spun around. It was obviously meant to be a full circle, but she caught sight of the unfamiliar figure and stumbled midway.
His actions were automatic. He stepped forward and caught her elbow before she landed on the floor, pulling her up against him.
Her eyes were wide. Her skin soft. And the scent of roses drifted up around him. The hand that had shot out to break her fall had landed on his chest as he’d grabbed her.
For a second they were frozen in time. The music was pumping around them, the heat of the jungle rising between them, and the darkness of the night enveloping everything.
Her eyes were the darkest brown he’d ever seen. They suited her tanned skin and chocolate hair. It was only a split second, but the heat from the palm of her hand seemed to penetrate through his thin T-shirt straight to the skin on his chest. He sucked in a breath just as she stepped backwards.
* * *
‘Gabrielle?’
As if the stranger standing in front of her, looking like film-star material, wasn’t enough, the deep throaty voice sent a shudder of electrical pulses flooding through her system that started in the palm of her hand and shot a direct route to her fluttering heart.
It took a second to catch her breath again.
No, it took more than a second.
Darn it. He was smiling at her. A perfect straight-white-teeth kind of smile.
Her palm was tingling from where she’d made contact with the firm muscles on his chest. He was tall, lean and wide. She’d bet every part of him was as muscled as his chest.
He had a buzz cut—like someone from the army. In fact, she’d put money on it that he’d served in the military. He had that demeanour about him, that aura of confidence as he stood there in his khaki army-style trousers and a thin dark green T-shirt.
He held his hand out to her again. ‘May I have this dance?’ he joked.
She gave an inward shudder as her brain kicked into gear. She spun to turn the music down on her speakers. What must she look like?
In this area she spent twelve hours with clothes fastened up to her neck, not even revealing a glimpse of her ankles. By the time she got back to camp she needed an instant shower, a quick feed and clothes she could relax in.
She took a deep breath and turned around, regaining her composure and putting her game face into place.
She shook his hand and smiled. ‘Yes, I’m Gabrielle. But you have me at a disadvantage. We haven’t met before.’
He frowned. ‘You haven’t heard from Gibbs?’
She nodded and put her hand on her hips. ‘Oh, I heard.’ She lifted her hands in the air and made quotation marks, ‘You girls can’t stay there by yourselves. I’ll find you someone.’ She tilted her head to the side. ‘I’m assuming you’re the someone.’
He glanced around the tent as if he were sizing up the place. Then, in a move that only reinforced what she was thinking, he turned and looked outside at the camp, checking out the surroundings. Once he seemed satisfied he turned back to her. ‘I guess I am. I’m Sullivan Darcy.’
She couldn’t hide her smile. ‘Gibbs has sent me my own Mr Darcy?’
He raised his eyebrows as she continued. The accent was unmistakable. ‘US army?’
He nodded. ‘I was. Now I’m with Doctors Without Borders.’
She walked over to a table and lifted some paperwork. ‘What’s your speciality? Medicine? Infectious diseases?’
He pulled a face. ‘You’ll hate this.’
Her stomach clenched. ‘Why?’
‘I’m a surgeon.’
‘Oh.’ Her stomach sank like a stone. In some circumstances a surgeon would be great but it was not exactly what she needed right now. She bit her bottom lip, trying to find the right words.
He stepped forward. ‘But if it helps I did a refresher and read all the protocols on the trip here. Just give
