had ended up in the trash. And the smell surrounding her was just what she needed.
Grace took a long sip of her latte, letting the smooth, sweet caramel hit the spot. It was just the perfect temperature. Someone had obviously had to spend ten minutes walking it back from the coffee house. She took a bite of the muffin. Perfect. ‘Fabulous. I love these. I could eat them all day.’
‘Wouldn’t you get sick of them?’ He was watching her. As if he was curious about her.
‘Are you crazy? Of course I wouldn’t. I limit myself to one a week because there’s about a billion calories in each one.’ She licked some toffee from her finger. ‘But you know what? I love every single one of them.’
He was watching her appreciatively. Apart from being naked in the shower, it was the first time she’d noticed him run his eyes up and down her body, although right now he was focused entirely on her fingers. She tried not to smile.
It hadn’t even crossed her mind that her actions could seem provocative. She’d been too busy enjoying her muffin. But somehow the thought of Donovan Reid having those kinds of thoughts about her was sending shivers down her spine. He’d never even noticed her before. He hadn’t even known her name.
Her gaze met his and he looked away hurriedly. But not before she’d caught the expression in his eyes. One of pure lust. Wow.
He glanced at his watch, cursed and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
‘What’s wrong?’ She looked over at the clock. It was just after six. Chances were they would be stuck in here all night. Was Dr Handsome going to have to break a date?
He took a couple of steps away from her—as if that made any difference in an isolation room. There was no privacy in here.
His voice was deliberately low as he left a message on a machine, ‘Hi, Hannah, sorry I couldn’t catch you. I’ve got a problem at work. I could be here a while. Possibly even overnight.’
She could almost imagine the lithe blonde model of the moment weeping into the salad she was about to miss at her cancelled dinner date. But then things took a strange turn.
‘So, if you don’t mind, could you check on Casey for me? Do what needs to be done? You’ve got the keys to my apartment. Thanks. I’ll be in touch.’
Now Grace was confused. That hadn’t seemed like a broken dinner date. ‘Who’s Casey?’ The words were out before she could stop them. Being confined with Donovan Reid was giving her a confidence that had been missing for a long time.
He shot her a look. Would he tell her it was none of her business? No, he was scrolling through something on his phone. He turned it around. ‘Casey’s my dog. He’s a bit old and temperamental.’
‘Wonder where he gets that from?’ She leaned forward to look at the photo, which had obviously been snapped in a park somewhere, of a black and white terrier-type dog. She looked at Donovan and wrinkled her nose. ‘I didn’t take you for a dog person.’
‘Really? Why not?’ Was he offended?
She shrugged. ‘You’re too intense. Always totally focused on the job. I always imagined you live in one of those sparkling white apartments that you’re hardly ever in. A dog’s a commitment. You just didn’t strike me as a commitment sort of guy.’
He folded him arms across his chest and looked amused. ‘Well, there’s a character assassination if I’ve ever heard one.’
‘What?’ Her heart beat started to quicken. ‘No, I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘Yes, you did. And that’s what I like about you, Grace Barclay, you say what’s on your mind. You don’t spend six hours trying to think of how to word it.’
She let out a little laugh. ‘Okay, guilty as charged. I sometimes speak without thinking.’ She shook her head. ‘But I’d never, ever deliberately offend someone.’ She raised her chin, ‘I happen to think Casey looks like a great little character.’
Donovan wagged his finger at her, ‘Oh, no, don’t ever let him hear you call him little.’
‘He won’t like it?’
‘He definitely won’t like it.’ The atmosphere between them was changing. It was almost as if he was flirting with her. Did Donovan Reid even do that? Maybe she was under the effect of some weird disease and it was playing havoc with her brain cells.
‘Will your dogsitter be able to help out?’
He gave a brief nod. ‘Always. Hannah’s very reliable. She’ll go around as soon as she gets the message and make sure Casey’s walked, fed and watered.’
Her imagination immediately started whipping up pictures of what Hannah looked like. A woman with a key to Donovan’s apartment? But something distracted her. There was a huddle of people outside the glass. But she was far more interested in the conversation that seemed to be happening outside. Six of her colleagues were gesticulating and arguing about something.
‘Donovan...’ She pointed her finger. Her heart sank. Please don’t let them have discovered it was some weird, deadly disease. They were obviously drawing lots to see who would tell them.
Donovan looked over his shoulder and his gaze narrowed. ‘What’s going on?’ He strode over to the glass. ‘Has something happened?’
There were a few mumbles, before one of the staff members was finally selected to answer the question. He walked over and spoke in a low tone to Donovan. Questions were fired backwards and forwards.
After a few seconds Donovan turned to face her. But it wasn’t fear on his face. His brow was furrowed and the tiny lines around his blue eyes had deepened. It was total confusion. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as he took a few steps towards her, ‘Grace, what do you know about the Marburg virus?’
WOW. TOTALLY OUT of left field. So not what she had been expecting him to say.
It took a few seconds for her scrambled brain to get itself in order. Then her professional mode switched into play. Donovan Reid wasn’t the only one around here with an encyclopaedic knowledge—she just hadn’t had much opportunity to show hers off.
She swung her legs off the bed and walked towards him. ‘What’s going on? The Marburg virus? Is that what we’ve got?’ Because from what she could remember, she certainly wouldn’t want to have it.
He shook his head. ‘No. It’s not what we’ve got. But someone else has it—down in Florida. First case in the US in years.’ He started pacing around; she could tell he was agitated. Desperate to get out of this glass box and start dealing with another infectious disease. Donovan Reid was permanently looking for the next disaster to deal with. And this would be the biggest disaster since the suspected smallpox outbreak. How on earth could an African disease be in the US?
She screwed up her face. The migraine was still there, but the dimmed blue lights were definitely helping—as was the fact she’d had something to eat. Along with the meds and the quick thirty-minute nap she might actually shake this off.
The
