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He shook his head and tried to hide his smile. ‘Dangerous—no.’
‘And?’
There was no way out of this. He was just going to have to spell it out. ‘It’s a type of body powder, it makes the skin glow and...it tastes like honey.’
‘Why on earth would it taste like—? Oh.’ Her eyes widened as realisation struck home. Her cheeks flushed with colour and she instantly looked down at the floor. ‘Someone sent that as a prank? Wow.’
She was embarrassed. And he liked it. Her feet shuffled nervously on the floor, her hand twiddling a still-damp strand of her hair.
He really ought to put her out of her misery and change the conversation, but this was kind of cute.
The more he was around her, the more she piqued his curiosity. He rubbed his finger and thumb together. He could almost still feel the smoothness of her skin, along with the angry, ragged stab wound. There was more to Grace Barclay than met the eye.
He cleared his throat. ‘We’ll need to do a debrief about this later. The Director will expect one.’ He looked around him, ‘We’ve only ever done drills in here before. This time we had a real life chance to see how things could work out.’ He picked up some notes that he’d scribbled earlier. ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I can think of a few areas for improvement. How about you?’
She sighed and leaned against the glass wall. ‘I don’t ever want to be in here again—drill or no drill.’
He smiled. He knew exactly how she felt. ‘Me neither. I’m sort of hoping that my suit and shoes haven’t already been incinerated.’
She cringed. ‘I’d forgotten about that. Darn it. That was my favourite shirt.’
‘Mine too. It brings out the colour of your eyes.’
Their gazes locked together for a second, ignoring the movements around them as the news spread and their colleagues realised the crisis had ended.
He’d meant it. And the words had come out before he’d had a chance to think about them. Being in close quarters with someone did that to you. Made you say things you really shouldn’t.
She shot him a sarcastic smile, ‘Yeah, right, Donovan. This from the guy who a few hours ago didn’t even know my name.’
He shrugged. ‘I know you lunch every Friday in the staffroom opposite the gym.’
Her mouth gaped a little. Did she really think he hadn’t noticed her? His cool act was working way better than he thought.
Grace Barclay was smart. She’d been able to tell him about Marburg virus off the top of her head. She’d connected the dots and realised who Jessie Tanner was. It could have taken them days to find that connection. She was gorgeous. And had a body to die for.
What more could a man want?
His focus shifted. He could think about the last few hours later. Right now he had another priority—one in which it seemed the DPA was already implicated.
‘How do you feel about fieldwork, Grace?’
She shuffled her feet. It seemed to be her ‘thing’. The trait that revealed her nerves. But the gaze she met his with was steady. She was doing her best to give the impression of someone with confidence.
‘I’d really like to get some experience. I’ve been here for the last seven months. Apart from a few practical assignments with Callum Ferguson, I’ve not had much experience.’
Callum Ferguson, the longest-serving member of the DPA. They even called him the Granddad of Disease. If she’d done a few practical assignments with Callum then she’d learned from the master. He hadn’t heard anyone complain about her.
It secured the thoughts he’d already been toying with. He had a vacancy in his team that needed to be filled. In everyday circumstances he’d ask for all the files of his junior colleagues and look for a suitable replacement. He’d ask around for recommendations—find out who was ready for the next step.
But he didn’t need to do that now. And he didn’t want to waste time. If Marburg virus was the next big outbreak he wanted a full team available to investigate.
They were free now. Free to get out of this isolation room and get back to work. And he knew exactly who he wanted to work with.
He held out his hand towards her. ‘Grace Barclay, welcome to the team.’
CHAPTER THREE
GRACE WAS FROZEN. She wanted to jump up and down and let out a scream. But professionalism stopped her.
Instead, she reached out her hand to take Donovan’s. Zing. The current shot straight up her arm. She couldn’t acknowledge it. She was watching his eyes for any hint that he might have felt it too. But Donovan Reid was as cool as the proverbial cucumber.
‘Are you sure? You don’t need to do an interview or an evaluation?’
He shook his head. ‘My team. My choice. I’d only need to go to internal interviews if I didn’t have a candidate.’ He gave her a smile. ‘But I do. Do you want to be part of the team, Grace?’
Did she want to be part of the team? Did teenage girls dream of being Mrs Beiber? Did every medical student dream of meeting their own Dr McDreamy or McSteamy?
She shot him her best beaming smile. ‘I’d love to be part of the team, Donovan. What do you want me to do first?’
* * *
‘Why didn’t I open the envelope?’ groaned Anna as she flopped down on Grace’s bed.
Lara was much more pragmatic as she poured wine into three glasses. ‘Well, even if I had opened the envelope, I would never have remembered all the stuff about Marburg virus off the top of my head.’ She raised her glass, ‘So, here’s to you, Grace. The best girl won.’
Grace’s stomach gave a little flip as she reached for her glass and clinked it against her friends’. She knew they were happy for her, even though there was deep-rooted envy. It was normal in their profession. They all wanted to do their best.
Lara walked over to her wardrobe and started pulling out clothes. ‘Yes, yes, no, no, definitely no.’ Clothes were littered over the room like coloured fluttering butterflies.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘We’re helping you pack. You’re going to Florida with the best-looking guy for miles around. I want to make sure you look your best.’
She held up a bright orange bikini. ‘Oh, yes!’
‘Oh, no.’ Grace grabbed it from the bed and stuffed it in a drawer. ‘I won’t have cause to wear a bikini. It’s the last thing I’ll need.’ She looked at the other things on the bed, picking up one of her black skirts. ‘What’s wrong with this? Why did it get a no?’
Anna giggled. ‘I can tell you. It’s too old-fashioned. It doesn’t enhance your best bits.’
‘And what are they, if I have them?’
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She rolled her eyes and picked up an alternative, pencil skirt. ‘Your ass!’ both girls said in unison.
Lara pulled out a couple of dresses and fitted shirts. ‘These are the same style, pencil skirts that show off your shape and fitted dresses that make us all jealous of your boobs.’
She wrinkled her nose at the bright blue dress and similar styled black and white polka-dot one. ‘Aren’t they a bit too fitted for work? I’m not sure that’s what I should be wearing.’
Anna shook her head and held one up. ‘What’s wrong? They cover all the bits that should be covered, they’re a perfectly respectable length and—look—no sleeves. It’s going to be hot down in Florida. You need to be comfortable.’
Lara nodded, holding up a red and then a bright pink shirt. ‘And these will look great with your black pencil skirt. You need to wear more colour, Grace. It suits you.’
‘Why do I feel as if you’re giving me a secret makeover?’
Anna and Lara exchanged knowing glances, before sitting on either side of her on the bed. Lara tapped her thigh. ‘We just don’t want you to waste a valuable opportunity.’
Anna had started lifting her hair and was looking at it as if she was imagining taking a pair of scissors to it. ‘Stop that!’ Grace batted her hand away. ‘My valuable opportunity is my chance to prove myself as a capable fieldwork team member.’ Maybe if she kept saying it loudly enough she might start believing it herself.
The thought of being stuck on a flight between Atlanta and Northwest Florida Beaches with Donovan Reid was more than a little daunting. Now the crisis was over and a new investigation was starting, she was sure he would have lost all interest in her.
Maybe rethinking her wardrobe wasn’t such a bad idea at all?
Lara tapped her shoulder and dumped a set of straighteners in her suitcase. ‘Watch out for the frizz down there, it’s very humid.’ She lifted a strand of Grace’s hair too. ‘You should maybe think about a deep conditioning treatment.’
