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‘Is this the first thing you’ve managed to cook without burning?’ he teased.
She shot him an indignant look. ‘I can burn it anytime. Just say the word. In fact...’ she waved her hand ‘...make yourself useful and get me a beer.’
He cracked open the beer bottles and watched as she put the food into two bowls and carried them over to the table. It was odd. She was so conscious of his eyes on her. It wasn’t like Duc hadn’t looked at her before, but something in the air had changed between them. It was like someone had found a dial and turned it up a few notches.
She grabbed for her beer as soon as she sat down, folding one knee underneath her. Lien’s words were still banging around in her head. She’d always laughed off any comment that anyone made to her about her and Duc. But this time she didn’t want to laugh it off. Because it had made her brain spin.
She pushed a sheet of paper in front of him. ‘Here, some sample questions. I wrote them while you were in the shower.’
He ran his eyes over them, elbows leaning on the table, a beer in one hand and a fork in the other. He took a bite of the stir-fry and looked up.
‘What?’ She hadn’t tried it yet.
Duc stood up silently and walked to the cupboard, grabbing some spices and some soy sauce. He added some to both of their dishes, gave them a stir and sat back down. This time, when he lifted the fork to his mouth, he didn’t baulk in the same way. He gave her a smile. ‘It was fine.’ He smiled, clearly hiding the fact he wanted to laugh. ‘Just missing some taste.’
Viv bent forward. It did smell more appetising now. She took a bite, and bit her tongue on the snarky reply she’d planned. This was good.
‘I’ve arranged another call tomorrow with Ron Jung, our advising obstetrician. It will give you a chance to review some of the patients with concerns again. He’s been so good, but we can’t keep relying on him permanently. We need to appoint someone soon.’
‘Yeah.’ Viv leaned her head on one hand and started twiddling a bit of loose hair. ‘What do you think of him?’
Duc looked up, a little surprised. ‘Ron? He’s fine. Worked with my mother years ago. She spoke highly of him.’
Viv looked thoughtful. ‘Have you ever thought of poaching him?’
‘What?’ Now he just looked confused.
‘Poaching. Stealing a doctor from elsewhere. Happens all the time.’
Duc put his fork down. ‘You want to steal Ron? Why? He’s worked at the national hospital for years. He’s never expressed any interest in working somewhere smaller—much smaller. He has a whole department and a salary to match. Anyhow, what’s wrong with the two candidates we have for interview? I thought they looked quite good.’
Viv leaned back, stretching her arms across the table. As she stretched, her short loose top crept higher and she only realised when she saw his eyes staring and lingering. She pulled them back with a bump. ‘Yeah, about them...’
‘About them, what?’
‘The first one will never stay. Just from the application form they’ve applied on a whim. Plus, he seems to go from job to job, never really staying anywhere.’
Duc’s eyebrows rose. ‘Sounds like someone else I know.’
Viv shot him a glance but ignored him. ‘That’s not what May M?n needs right now. Not the staff and not the patients. They need an obstetrician who’s here for the long haul.’
‘And the other candidate?’
‘Doesn’t have any special knowledge about the issues in Vietnam.’ She put her hand on her chest. ‘A bit like me. We can’t rely on Lien or you to tell us about the most prevalent conditions all the time. We really need someone that knows about malaria, TB, dengue fever, Zika and chikungunya.’
Duc looked her straight in the eye. ‘Someone like Ron?’
She took a sip of her beer. ‘Someone like Ron.’
‘But what makes you think he might even be interested?’
Viv leaned back and smile. ‘My intuition. Managing a big department isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’
Now Duc smiled. He loved the way the Scottish words and expressions were scattered throughout her language.
She kept going. ‘He has a huge team. Twelve consultants—twelve egos to manage. He’s getting older. He’s just had his first grandchild. He’s already told me he wishes he could spend more time at home.’
Duc stirred at his food with his fork. It was clear he was thinking about what she was saying.
She opened her hands out. ‘Why does anyone want to be a doctor? To help people. To make a difference. What if we could offer Ron a chance to finish off his career, with a bit more time at home, along with caring for those who need it most?’
Duc shook his head. ‘It would be a huge salary drop.’
‘You’re telling me that Ron doesn’t already have his pension plans sorted out?’
Duc pulled a face. ‘True. Knowing Ron, he’s had that sorted out since he was twenty.’
Viv leaned forward. ‘I just get a feeling when I talk to him. He’s been consulting with us free. But he’s genuinely interested in the work that we do here. He’s been so enthusiastic about some of the cases—both the ordinary ones and the complicated ones.’ She played her trump card. ‘His mother grew up in the same street as Lien’s parents.’
Duc’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’
She leaned forward even further. ‘Really. I think he has a vested interest in this area. How about we both do the consultation tomorrow? We could sound him out?’
For a second he said nothing and after a moment she realised just how far forward she had leaned, and that Duc had a clear uninterrupted view of her cleavage. Her automatic reaction was to pull back, but something stopped her.
Duc hadn’t looked away.
Her skin prickled. Under normal circumstances both of them would have moved and thought nothing else about it. But Duc’s eyes were firmly fixed on the result of her folding her arms across her chest and leaning forward, allowing her V-neck top to dip a little lower than it should.
A crazy surge went through her.
She winked. ‘And see if I’m just crazy Scot number one or not.’
Duc’s hand jerked at her voice, knocking the bottle of beer she was holding loosely, sending the whole thing tipping towards her.
Viv jumped up, but not before the pale amber liquid was halfway down her top and shorts.
‘Sorry!’ he said q
uickly, standing up and following her as she ran over towards the kitchen sink, grabbing a tea towel to try to wipe away some of the damage. He lifted his hands automatically to help, grabbing a roll of kitchen paper towel.
As she lifted the tea towel away it was clear her top was sodden and was clinging to her like a second skin.
Duc started patting her down with the paper towel. He started at her waist and abdomen, and then moving up to her breasts. He seemed to be on autopilot, trying to right his mistake without thinking too much about his further actions.
As his hands brushed against her breasts, she stopped breathing. He was only inches away from her.
His hands seemed to freeze in mid-air. Almost as if he’d just realised what he was doing.
She looked at him. His dark eyes were wide.
Silence filled the air between them, but the air wasn’t silent—it sizzled and crackled, brimming with sexual tension.
‘Surgeons aren’t supposed to be clumsy.’ Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes focusing on the hands that had just touched her.
Duc’s voice was lower and throatier than she’d ever heard it before. ‘Haven’t you heard? I’m not a surgeon any more.’
Her eyes fixed on his lips. Her tongue came out and traced along the edges of her own, instantly dry, lips.
Her move was like a magnet towards him.
He moved forward. Just an inch. Close enough she could feel the heat from his skin. It was torture.
This time it was she who moved. Her hands automatically reached out and ran up his bare arms to his shoulders. He let out a little groan as her palms and fingertips touched his skin, and it was her undoing.
She closed the space between them, pressing her damp body next to his.
Duc reacted instantly, one hand sliding around her waist and pulling her even harder into him. There was no question what was going to happen next. No doubt at all.
And for all the shooting thoughts that fired through her head, there was one that overwhelmed all the others. Now.
His lips met hers greedily.
It was like a million little explosions going off in her body at once. His other hand slid through her hair, anchoring her head.
