it, right?”
“Yes, but those were just isolated incidents and not indicative of a major outbreak.”
“Can you tell me more about the cases? Without revealing names or private details, of course.”
Julia twirled the end of her braid around her finger. “They were all from the same family, which is why I don’t believe we have a malaria problem on our hands. It’s been cooler here in the north, so the mosquitoes haven’t been too brutal. The family in question neglected to take the preventive measures we encourage the locals to employ.”
“Mosquito netting, repellents?” he prompted.
“Exactly.” Her tone became soft, regretful. “They didn’t protect themselves and unfortunately, they didn’t come in for treatment right away either. By the time they did, it was too late.”
The pain in her hazel eyes told Sebastian that she was the kind of doctor who actually gave a damn about her patients. Then again, that shouldn’t surprise him. If she’d gotten into medicine for the money, she would be back in the States, running a cushy practice and counting her pile of cash. Instead, she’d chosen to work for peanuts in isolated, needy areas of South America and Africa.
He found himself curious about that, and had to fight the impulse to ask her why she’d gotten into foreign aid in the first place. But he couldn’t get off-topic, not when they were on the very subject he’d come here to talk about.
“How many dead?” he asked gruffly.
“The mother, all five of the children and the grandparents who were living with the family. The father didn’t get sick.” Another flicker of pain crossed those big eyes. “He’s devastated, to say the least. Lost his entire family in less than a week.”
Something hot and unwelcome squeezed Sebastian’s chest. He knew all about loss, didn’t he? Seemed like he’d been losing people his entire damn life.
But now wasn’t the time to dwell on painful, unwanted memories. He’d come here to figure out if those malaria deaths were connected to the virus Harrison had been testing in Corazón, but it looked like this was nothing but a false alarm.
Unless … Was Julia Davenport in cahoots with the people hunting him? Was she continuing Harrison’s secret project by killing her own patients?
He let the possibility simmer for a moment, then dismissed it. Nah, he seriously doubted that. He prided himself on being a good judge of character, and it had taken only a few minutes in Julia’s company to decide that the woman didn’t have a malicious bone in her body.
“I wish there was more we could do for these people,” she said, a wistful note entering her voice. “But it’s tough. The organization gets most of its funding from private donors, and with the recession, we’re not seeing as many donations as we used to. Less money means fewer supplies, fewer staff to hire, less everything.”
“But it’s better than nothing,” he pointed out. “You’re doing what you can, Doc, which is more than what other people are doing.”
“You’re doing something, too,” she said with a warm smile. “You’re shedding light on the issues, forcing the people back home to open their eyes to the conflicts and inequality and inferior health care others are struggling with.”
An arrow of guilt pricked his chest, and for a moment he wished he was writing an article, just so he could put another one of those beautiful smiles on Julia’s face.
This was damn perplexing. When it came to women, he didn’t have a type, per se, not unless temporary counted as a type. He didn’t do serious or long-term, and Julia Davenport had serious and long-term written all over her. She was a doctor, for chrissake. Doctors were notoriously serious.
And why was he even thinking about this, anyway? He’d come here to interview the woman, not to sleep with her.
His body, however, clearly hadn’t received the memo. His cock was semihard beneath the zipper of his cargo pants, and his palms tingled with the urge to undo Julia’s braid so his fingers could dive into all those silky brown tresses.
“Sebastian?”
Her amused voice jerked him out of his tasteless thoughts, and he nearly dropped his notebook on the linoleum floor. He made a mad grab for it, only to end up with a paper cut as the notepaper sliced into his thumb.
“Damn,” he mumbled, lifting his thumb to his mouth and swiping his tongue over the line of blood forming there.
Julia’s hazel eyes sparkled with amusement. “Paper cut?”
Something about her teasing voice snapped him into flirt mode again. “Yup. Wanna patch me up?”
She laughed, but he noticed a light flush rising on her cheeks. “Really? A big tough guy like you is worried about a measly little paper cut?”
“Deathly worried.” He slanted his head. “So what do you say, Doc? Will you kiss it and make it better?”
Chapter 2
Julia’s heart actually did a somersault. She’d thought that once you turned thirty, your heart didn’t do silly schoolgirl things like somersaults, but sure enough, it was flipping around in her chest like an excited dolphin.
Of course, how could her heart not turn into a dolphin when the sexiest man she’d ever met was flashing that gorgeous smile at her?
Sebastian Stone was not at all what she’d expected him to be. First of all, he was much more fit than she’d pictured, his long, lean body clad in green cargo pants and a thin gray T-shirt that couldn’t hide the tight six-pack of his abdomen. He wasn’t pretty-boy attractive, but ruggedly handsome, hard lines and angles creating a stark, masculine face that was more Marlboro Man than movie star.
Everything about him teased her senses. His playful gray eyes, the dark blond stubble coating his strong jaw, the woodsy scent of him.
“Cat got your tongue, Doc?”
Jeez, even his voice was sexy. Deep, with a slight rasp to it.
Blinking out of her stupor, Julia glanced at the thumb he’d been holding to his lips. “Sorry, but kissing boo-boos is not part of my job description,” she said, making an attempt to keep her tone dry. “But I should probably clean that up for you.”
He let out a low laugh. “That’s not necessary. It’s just a paper cut.”
She was already heading for the small cabinet next to the door. “We’re in Valero,” she replied. “Even paper cuts get infected, and around these parts, infection can lead to some pretty nasty stuff.”
She appreciated that Sebastian didn’t argue, not even when she rummaged in the cabinet and pulled out a small bottle of antiseptic, a piece of gauze and a bandage.
Heading back to the desk, she hopped up on the edge and gestured at his hand. His dark blond eyebrows quirked for a moment, and then he willingly gave her his hand.
“I know it seems extreme,” she admitted as she poured some antiseptic on the gauze and wiped the
