Special Forces Rendezvous. Elle Kennedy

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      A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Huh, I didn’t think it would be that easy.”

      “What?”

      “You dropping the macho man protests and just accepting my authority.”

      The grin he flashed her made her heart skip a beat. “I know when to pick my battles.”

      “Meaning?”

      “Meaning you strike me as the type of woman who likes calling the shots and who gets ornery as hell when she’s challenged.”

      “I am,” she confessed with a sheepish laugh.

      “Like being in control, huh?”

      “Of course.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Who wants to feel out of control?”

      A seductive glint lit his gray eyes. “Lots of people like relinquishing control every now and then.” He arched one brow. “Especially in the bedroom …”

      Heat scorched her cheeks. God, had he really just said that?

      Averting her eyes, Julia swiped the gauze over his thumb one final time before unwrapping the bandage and sticking it on him. In an unnaturally high voice, she squeaked, “All done,” and practically vaulted off the desk like she was competing in the Olympics.

      His soft laughter tickled her back, which she kept turned as she shoved the supplies into the cabinet. Her heartbeat was going haywire again, and she had to take a moment to collect herself.

      What was up with the sexual awareness rippling over every inch of her skin? And she could swear she felt that same awareness being radiated from him. Which made no sense.

      Sebastian Stone was sexy as all get-out, and a man as blatantly sensual as him would never be attracted to someone like her. She didn’t suffer from low self-esteem—she was perfectly content with the way she looked—but she also wasn’t delusional enough to think she was a supermodel or anything. Average features, frizzy hair, small breasts. And after six months of working herself ragged in Valero, she was now officially ten pounds underweight. It was hard to find the time to eat when you worked twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

      Gorgeous and glamorous she wasn’t. Nor was she overly feminine. She didn’t wear a lick of makeup, kept her hair braided most of the time, and she only donned the professional white coat for patients; the rest of the time, she wore faded jeans, tank tops and beat-up sneakers.

      So why was Sebastian looking at her like he wanted to eat her up?

      “Sorry, Doc, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

      His rueful voice stilled some of the butterflies floating around in her stomach. “You didn’t,” she assured him, finding the courage to meet his eyes.

      The second their gazes locked, that hiss of attraction coursed through the air again.

      Holy cow. What was going on? She’d never experienced this kind of instant, visceral chemistry with a man before, and though she wasn’t the type of woman who fell into bed with complete strangers, she honestly couldn’t see herself protesting if this man made a move on her.

      God, if he marched over and kissed her right now?

      She’d probably let him.

      Swallowing, she broke eye contact and fiddled with the end of her braid. “Anyway, do you have any more questions? Because, er, I should check on my patients.”

      With a knowing smile, Sebastian stood up. He rolled his shoulders for a moment, as if being stuck in that tiny chair had done a number on his back. Hell, it probably had, seeing as the man was built like a linebacker.

      “I think we’re all good.” He reached for the tape recorder he’d left on the desk. He clicked it off, then shoved it in his canvas shoulder bag, along with the notebook he’d been scribbling in during the interview.

      “So when’s the article coming out?” Julia asked, trying for some casual conversation.

      “Not sure yet. I don’t work for a specific publication, remember? So I’ll need to shop the piece around first. I still have your email address, though, so I’ll keep you updated.”

      “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

      They slid out the door and fell into step with each other in the corridor. When they passed two of the volunteers on staff, Julia quickly introduced them to Sebastian, noting how both women cranked their flirt meters up a notch or two in his presence. Apparently she wasn’t the only one affected by the waves of magnetism rolling off that big, strong body of his. And he reeked of confidence, walking in a measured gait that was almost a swagger, offering that charming smile to everyone they encountered on the way out of the clinic.

      When they finally stepped onto the pillared porch, Julia stifled a sigh of relief. The clinic wasn’t tiny by any means, but Sebastian seemed larger than life, and it had been getting hard to breathe walking side by side with him in that narrow hallway.

      She inhaled the humid, late-afternoon air, her gaze sweeping over the dusty courtyard that housed a few rust-covered pickup trucks, the two vans they used for transporting supplies, and the crappy old moped she rode when she visited the more remote settlements to see patients who were too old or sick to travel, or who refused to come into town.

      For the past six months, this had been her life. Waking up in the canvas tent she shared with three other female staff members. Treating the patients who came to the clinic and visiting those who couldn’t. Sitting inside the mosquito tent with her colleagues every evening, listening to Simone’s father strum his guitar, or Kevin Carlisle, the British physician, tell dirty jokes.

      At the thought of Kevin, a frown marred her lips, reminding her that the Brit still hadn’t returned from his visit to the north. He’d been gone for several days and was due to return sometime this morning, but he’d yet to make an appearance.

      “Everything all right?” Sebastian asked, evidently noticing her frown.

      “Yeah, it’s fine,” she said absently. “I’m just making a mental note to radio one of our doctors. He was seeing patients in some neighboring villages, and he was supposed to be back by now.”

      “Is there reason to worry?”

      “Not yet. Kev notoriously loses track of time, so we usually adjust for his tardiness—we take the time he says he’ll be somewhere, add five hours, and if he exceeds that, then we’re allowed to worry.”

      Sebastian chuckled. “Sounds like you Doctors International folks are pretty close.”

      “We are. It’s bound to happen when you spend every waking hour with the same group of people. We’re like a family now.”

      “I know exactly what you mean.” He paused for a beat. “In my line of work, you tend to run into the same journalists and media folks and a sense of camaraderie develops.”

      A short silence descended, during which Julia tried to come up with a way to ask him if he was sticking around for a while, without sounding like she cared if he was sticking around for a while. After СКАЧАТЬ