Читать книгу Reawakened By The Surgeon's Touch - Jennifer Taylor, Jennifer Taylor - Страница 11
ОглавлениеTHEY DROVE FOR almost a quarter of an hour in silence. Claire suspected that it was a combination of the noise from the engine plus a fear of her driving which was keeping Jude quiet, not that she was sorry, of course. When he suddenly leant forward she had to steel herself not to react as she felt the solid length of his body pressing against her back.
‘What’s that over there? Is it the missing truck?’
Claire slowed so that she could look at where he was pointing and felt her stomach sink when she spotted the truck partly hidden by some trees. All their vehicles were old and riddled with rust which was why the truck had blended so perfectly into the background; in fact, she wouldn’t have noticed it if Jude hadn’t pointed it out.
‘It looks like it,’ she agreed, bringing the motorbike to a halt at the side of the road. She kept the engine idling while she looked around, but there was no sign of movement from what she could see. The area appeared to be deserted, although she wasn’t about to take that as proof there was nobody about. It could be a trap set by the rebel fighters and she needed to be on her guard. Switching off the engine, she climbed off the bike, nodding to Jude to indicate that he should get off as well. Opening the seat, she took out the pistol.
‘You carry a gun?’
The shock in his voice would have been comical in other circumstances but not right then. Claire was starting to get a bad feeling about this and she didn’t need him kicking up a fuss.
‘This isn’t Mayfair, Dr Slater. This is the middle of Africa and there are rebel factions active in the area.’ She nodded at the bike. ‘Stay here while I go and see what’s happened.’
She didn’t wait to check that he was following instructions. She just headed towards the truck, sure in her own mind that the handsome Dr Slater would prefer not to risk his oh-so-handsome skin. Anyway, she needed to keep her wits about her instead of worrying about him...
‘Shouldn’t we find some cover? We’re sitting ducks out here in the open.’
Claire spun round when she heard him hiss the question at her and glared at him. ‘I thought I told you to stay with the bike!’
‘You did,’ he said shortly, staring past her. His hand shot out when she went to walk away. ‘Wait! I thought I saw something move— Yes! There! Just to the left of the truck—did you see it?’
Claire screwed up her eyes against the glare from the sun as she stared towards the truck. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘It could have been a bird, I suppose.’ He turned to her and she could tell from the set of his mouth that it would be a waste of time ordering him to go back to the bike. ‘OK. Shall we do this, then?’
‘Yes, but stay behind me.’ She gave him a grim little smile. ‘I wouldn’t like you to get between me and any potential target.’
‘And here was I thinking that you would love the chance to put a bullet in my back.’
He gave her a mocking smile then set off, ignoring her instructions as he led the way towards the trees. Claire muttered something uncomplimentary under her breath as she hurried after him. Why, for two pins, she would haul him straight back to the plane and have the crew lock him in the hold! Didn’t he understand how dangerous the situation was and that they were both at risk of walking into a trap? Yet he had to get all gung-ho about it, playing the big, tough hero protecting the helpless little woman...
‘If you’re going to curse me then may I suggest you wait until later?’ He stopped so suddenly that Claire cannoned into his back. Muscles rippled as he absorbed the impact and she hastily disentangled herself, not wanting to run the risk of storing away the memory of all that warm, hard flesh.
‘All that hissing and spitting under your breath is going to be a real problem when we reach those trees.’ He glowered at her. ‘I need to be able to hear if there’s anyone moving about and your mutterings and mumblings will only hamper things.’
‘Oh, well, excuse me! I didn’t realise you were such an expert in these matters. Maybe you’d like me to walk downwind so I don’t interfere with your olfactory processes?’
‘Funny. If you’re as good with that gun as you are with your tongue, lady, then we should be safe enough.’ He treated her to a smile that was all flashing white teeth and very little warmth. ‘However, from the way you’re holding it—like a freshly skinned rabbit—I very much doubt it. So no more muttering until we know for certain there are no bogeymen lurking in the woods, eh?’
With that he started walking again, ignoring her as he headed towards the trees. Claire glared after his retreating back before she forced herself to follow him. If they hadn’t been in such desperate need of another surgeon at the hospital then she would have left him here and to hell with the consequences. So far as she was concerned, the rebel fighters were welcome to him!
They reached the outer rim of the trees and stopped. Jude cocked his head to the side, obviously listening for any sound of movement. Claire held her breath because even though the rebels might be welcome to him in theory, she didn’t really want him to come to any harm. He glanced at her and there was no trace of laughter on his face this time. He seemed completely focused on the possible dangers and for some reason, she felt almost ridiculously pleased that he was taking her concerns seriously.
‘I’m going to skirt round towards the truck through those trees,’ he explained in a whisper, pointing out the route he planned to take. ‘I want to see if the driver’s still in the cab.’
‘I’ll keep you covered,’ she replied equally quietly, quelling a shiver as she looked around. The thought that someone could be hiding in the scrub, watching them, wasn’t a pleasant one.
‘You do that.’ He gave her a quick grin. ‘But if you do see anything untoward then make sure it isn’t me in your sights, will you? I don’t fancy taking a bullet home as a souvenir.’
‘I’ll do my very best to miss you,’ she agreed sweetly, and he laughed.
‘Promises, promises—sounds like the story of my life!’
He slipped away before she could say anything, not that she could have come up with anything apposite. Claire sighed because it was the story of her life that she could never come up with a witty response when she needed it. She waited in silence, wondering how she would know when he had reached the truck. He was hardly going to holler, Yoo-hoo, I’m here, was he?
Was he?
Her heart sank at the thought that he might not be taking this as seriously as she had thought. After all, Dr Slater knew nothing about the dangers of working in this country. Although the majority of the Mwurandans were kindly, God-fearing people, the rebel fighters stopped at nothing to achieve their aims. In the past two months they had stepped up their campaign of terror and everyone working in the country had been warned to be on their guard.
Claire knew that the Worlds Together team would be pulled out if the situation worsened and that she would have to leave with them if that happened. Although she wasn’t officially part of their team, she worked alongside them and there would be no excuse for her to stay if they left. Although her visa expired shortly, she wanted to remain here for as long as possible. The thought of going back to England didn’t appeal, so she tried not to think about it.
There was still no sign of Jude and she could feel her anxiety rising. Where on earth was he?
All of a sudden she spotted a movement near the rear of the truck and her breath hissed out in relief when she realised it was him. He was crouched down beside the back axle and, as she watched, he began to creep forward, using the truck as a shield as he made his way to the cab. He disappeared from view and she held her breath, praying that nothing had happened to him. If it was a trap, she had let him walk right into it...
He suddenly reappeared and she saw him lift up his hand and beckon to her. He pointed towards the trees, obviously indicating that she should follow the route he had taken. Claire gripped the pistol more firmly as she began to make her way through the undergrowth but her palm was slippery with sweat. Twigs snapped and grasses rustled and her heart pounded harder than ever. She was making so much noise that it would have been far simpler and a whole lot quicker just to run across the clearing. Anyone watching was bound to have heard her!
She reached the truck at last and gasped when she saw that Jude had found Ezra, the driver. He was lying on the ground beside the cab with Jude crouched down beside him. She ran forward and dropped to her knees, staring in horror at the bloody mess that was the man’s head.
‘Is he dead?’
‘No. He’s hanging on—just.’
Jude’s tone was grim as he elbowed her aside so that he could finish examining the man. Claire didn’t protest as this was hardly the time to worry about the social niceties. Long, dexterous fingers tested the man’s scalp with a delicacy she had witnessed only a couple of times before in her nursing career. Surprisingly, a lot of surgeons had big, clumsy-looking hands, but Jude’s hands were as finely tuned as a pianist’s as he felt his way across the driver’s skull. He looked up and something warm and sweet rose inside her when she saw the concern in his eyes. Despite appearances to the contrary, Jude Slater possessed more than his share of compassion for his fellow man, it seemed.
‘His skull’s a mess. There’s at least two deep depressions, so heaven only knows the extent of the damage. It looks as though he’s been clubbed over the head because he certainly didn’t get injuries like these from sitting in that truck, minding his own business.’
‘It must have been the rebel fighters,’ she said shakily, struggling to get a grip. Thoughts like that certainly weren’t ones she wanted to encourage. ‘Maybe they thought he was transporting equipment to the airport and that’s why they ambushed him. They’ve been doing a lot of work on the runways recently.’
‘You could be right.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know how we’re going to get him to hospital but it certainly won’t be on the back of that motorbike of yours. It looks as though I’ll have to drive the truck back—if it’s still working.’
‘I wonder why the rebels didn’t take it,’ Claire said, frowning. There had been a number of similar incidents recently and on each occasion the vehicle had been stolen.
‘Probably because it doesn’t work,’ Jude suggested with a grimace. ‘In which case, we’re up the proverbial creek without the proverbial paddle.’
He didn’t say anything else as he stood up and climbed into the cab. Claire heard the engine screech as he attempted to start it and her stomach tightened with fear. If there was anyone hiding in the trees then now was the time they would show themselves.
The thought had barely crossed her mind when there was a loud cracking noise and she felt the air shiver as a bullet whistled past her ear. She dropped flat on the ground, her heart pounding as more shots were fired at them. Some hit the truck, others ricocheted off the trees, and all were far too close for comfort.
‘Hell’s bells! These guys really do mean business, don’t they?’
The shock in Jude’s voice as he dropped down beside her made her smile despite the precariousness of their position. ‘This isn’t a theme park experience, Dr Slater. This is the real thing, bullets and all. We really are being shot at by the bad guys.’
‘That tongue of yours is going to get you into serious trouble one of these days.’ He ducked as another volley of shots whined over their heads. Rolling onto his side, he glowered at her. ‘OK, Ms Know-it-all, what do you suggest? Do we wave the white flag and appeal to the goodness of their hearts? Or do we try to outmanoeuvre them?’
‘I don’t think they’re very big on the milk of human kindness,’ she retorted. ‘We have a choice. It’s either fight or flight, and I know which I prefer.’
‘I’m with you there, although I don’t know if this thing is up to it.’ He shot a disgusted look at the truck. ‘That engine doesn’t sound exactly tuned for speed to my ears.’
‘Probably not if you’re used to something more luxurious but we’re not so choosy here,’ she snapped, pressing her face into the dirt as more shots whined over their heads. Her voice was muffled as she continued. ‘We only have one criterion when it comes to a vehicle: does it work?’
‘In that case, we have the prince of trucks at our disposal. It works, although I can’t guarantee how fast it goes.’ He ducked as another bullet hit the truck then scrambled to his feet. ‘I’m going to get the driver into the cab.’
‘I’ll help you.’
‘No, you won’t. You stay there and keep your head down. I don’t want to have to rescue two casualties, thank you very much.’
Claire fumed as he scuttled on all fours to the cab and wrenched open the door. As the newbie member of the team, he seemed rather too keen to hand out orders. She started to get up then dropped back onto her stomach as another hail of shots pierced the side of the truck just above her head. She could only watch as Jude dragged the driver to the cab and somehow managed to bundle him inside. Sweat was streaming down his face by the time he had finished and there were damp patches on his shirt but he still managed to grin infuriatingly at her.
‘So, are you coming, then? Or are you going to stay there and enjoy the scenery?’
Claire gritted her teeth as she belly-crawled to the cab. She wasn’t going to fall into the unseemly habit of trading insults with him. Fortunately their attackers didn’t appear to know that they had moved because they were still firing at the rear of the truck. It meant they would have surprise on their side when they set off.
Jude gripped her arm as she went to climb into the cab. ‘I want you to get into the footwell and stay there. Understand?’
Claire did understand and she wasn’t happy about it, either. ‘So you can play the all-action hero and get us out of here?’
‘Yes.’ He grinned at her, a lazy, sexy grin that managed to slip past her defences before she realised it. ‘There’s no bigger boost to a guy’s ego than being able to save a damsel in distress, so don’t spoil this for me, sweetheart.’
‘I am not and never shall be your sweetheart,’ she shot back, hunching down so she could scramble aboard the truck without giving the gunmen an easy target.
‘“Never say never” is my motto,’ he replied, putting his hand under her backside to give her a boost up.
Claire would have slapped his face if the situation hadn’t been so dire. Not just for the cocky remark but for manhandling her as well. She shot into the cab, rolling herself into a ball so she could squeeze into the footwell. The driver was slumped in the passenger seat, mercifully unconscious. That was the one and only good point she could find about the situation, in fact; they wouldn’t have to deal with a hysterical patient when they beat a retreat. How they were going to outrun the rebels in this clapped-out old truck was anyone’s guess but they didn’t have a choice. Handing themselves over to the rebels was a definite non-starter and there was no point trying to fight when...
‘I’ll take that.’ Jude leant down and took the pistol out of her hand. He placed it on the seat then put the truck into gear, swearing colourfully when it failed to engage at the first attempt. There was a hail of shots and the windscreen exploded, showering glass all over the cab, but by that time he had managed to get the truck moving.
They shot out of the trees and careered towards the road as Claire desperately tried to wedge herself into the footwell and hold on to the driver to stop him falling off the seat. They hit a rut and she yelped when her head connected painfully with the underside of the dashboard but Jude didn’t even spare her a glance. His face was set as he steered the truck across the rutted ground and she shivered. He reminded her of how Andrew had looked that night when he had forced himself on her; he too had been determined to get his own way. It was an effort to push the memory aside as they reached the road and Jude glanced down at her.
‘How far is it from here?’
‘Five miles, give or take,’ she told him, trying to subdue the sickness that had welled up inside her. He wasn’t Andrew, she reminded herself sharply because she couldn’t afford to fall apart.
‘Let’s hope it’s more give than take,’ he muttered, jamming his foot down on the accelerator. The rear end of the truck fishtailed before the tyres got a grip and Claire bit her lip. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself by letting him see how scared she was...
‘It’s going to be OK.’ Jude took his hand off the steering wheel and touched her shoulder, and there was a wealth of understanding in his eyes when she looked at him in surprise. He grinned down at her, his handsome face lighting up in a way that made her breath catch but for an entirely different reason this time. ‘We’re going to make it, Claire. Cross my heart and hope not to die!’
He laughed as he made a cross on his chest then put his hand back on the steering wheel, but Claire didn’t say a word. She didn’t dare. If she said anything then she was afraid it would be far too revealing.
Her stomach rolled and she had to force down the wave of panic that rushed up at her. For the past two years, she had felt quite comfortable around the male members of the team. They were simply colleagues and she’d never had a problem working with any of them. However, she knew that state of affairs was about to change. There was just something about Jude Slater that made her feel more aware of him than she’d felt about any man in a very long time. He might not be anything like Andrew but he could prove to be just as dangerous.
* * *
Jude could feel the sweat trickling between his shoulder blades. He was scared witless although he had done his best not to let Claire see how he felt. Maybe it was ego which demanded that he mustn’t let her know how terrified he was, but he’d be damned if he would start whimpering like a craven coward even though it was what he felt like doing.
He glanced in the wing mirror and felt his stomach try to escape through his boots when he discovered that they were being followed. There were three vehicles behind them and they were gaining on them, too. He jammed his foot down so hard on the accelerator that the engine screeched but he ignored the sound of ancient pistons being put to the ultimate test. If those guys got hold of them then he didn’t rate their chances!
‘Are they following us?’
He glanced down when she spoke, seeing the fear in her soft grey eyes. He had a better view of her face from this angle and he realised in surprise that she was younger than he had thought, somewhere in her late twenties, perhaps. The cap had been pushed back and he could see strands of honey-gold hair peeking out from under its brim. He’d always had a thing about blondes and he would bet his last pound that she was a natural blonde, too. He would also bet that she had a great figure once she was out of those appalling clothes, although if he didn’t keep his mind on the job, he might not get the chance to prove that theory.
‘Yep,’ he replied laconically, determined not to let her know what he was thinking.
‘In that case then can’t you make this thing go any faster?’ she demanded, glaring up at him.
‘If I press down any harder on this pedal, my foot’s going to go through the floor,’ he retorted, not sure that he appreciated having her demean his efforts to save them. ‘It’s not my fault if this outfit of yours is too damned mean to buy itself any decent transport, is it?’
‘If you mean Worlds Together then it’s not my outfit,’ she snapped back, bracing herself as they hit another pothole.
Jude grimaced when he heard the crunch of metal because the last thing they needed was a broken axle. He kept his attention on the road although her comment had intrigued him. ‘So you don’t work for the agency?’
‘No. I work with them but not for them.’
He wasn’t sure he understood the subtleties of that distinction but it didn’t seem the most propitious moment to ask her to explain. The rebels were gaining on them and he grimaced when he heard shots being fired. ‘How much further is it now?’
‘About a mile, maybe less,’ she told him, peering over the edge of the dashboard.
‘Get down!’ He pushed her head down as a bullet whined through the cab. He could hear more shots pinging off the chassis and hunched over the steering wheel, hoping that none of them would hit him. He groaned. Yesterday he had been sitting in an upscale London restaurant, enjoying dinner, and today he was in a beat-up old truck about to get fried. Talk about the difference a day made!
‘Will you stop ordering me about! I’ve been here a lot longer than you and I know the drill.’
He risked another glance at her when he heard the anger in her voice and felt his heart give an almighty lurch. Her cap must have been dislodged when he had shoved her head down and now all that honey-gold hair was spilling over her shoulders. It was so thick and shiny that he physically ached to run his fingers through it. It was only the thought of them careering off the road if he gave in to the urge that kept his hands on the wheel.
‘In that case, what do you suggest?’ He raised a mocking black brow, not sure if he appreciated feeling so ridiculously aware of her when the sentiment obviously wasn’t reciprocated. ‘I could stop the truck and ask them nicely not to shoot at us any more, but somehow I don’t think they would be keen to cooperate, do you?’
‘Oh, ha-ha, very funny. It must be wonderful to have such a highly developed sense of humour, Dr Slater.’
‘I’ve found it very useful at times,’ he replied blandly, then ducked when another volley of shots rained over the cab. The rebels were just yards behind them now and they were gaining fast. He had to do something although his options were seriously limited.
‘Here, grab hold of the steering wheel and hold it steady,’ he instructed. ‘The road’s relatively straight from here on, so all you need to do is hang on to it.’ He grabbed her hand and clamped it around the base of the steering wheel then picked up the gun.
‘But I can’t see where we’re going!’
‘Just hold it steady—that’s all you need to do,’ Jude said shortly, leaning over so he could see out of the window. He had a clear view of the vehicles that were pursuing them and smiled grimly. Raising the pistol, he took aim and squeezed the trigger—
Nothing happened.
‘There aren’t any bullets in it.’
It took a whole second for the words to sink in. Jude pulled his head back into the cab and stared, open-mouthed, at the woman in the footwell. ‘What did you say?’
‘The gun’s empty.’ She glared up at him, her previously soft grey eyes like shards of flint. ‘We’re in the business of saving lives, Dr Slater, not taking them. That’s why there are no bullets in the gun.’
A dozen different retorts flew into his head and flew back out again. There was no point asking how or why or even giving vent to his frustration. Jude took the wheel from her and rammed his foot flat on the accelerator, forcing the truck to formerly undiscovered speeds. They rounded a bend and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw the town up ahead. There was an army patrol stationed just outside it and he stamped on the brakes when the soldiers flagged him down. The woman scrambled out of the footwell as the soldiers approached them with their rifles raised.
‘We’ve an injured man on board!’ she shouted out of the window. ‘We need to get him to hospital.’
The soldiers obviously recognised her because they immediately raised the barrier and waved them through. Jude felt his spirits start to revive a little as he drove along the road. Not only had he managed to outrun the rebel faction, but he would get their patient to hospital as well. Not bad going for his first day in the country, all things considered.
‘Take a right at the end of the road and drive straight across when you reach the crossroads. Sound your horn in case anything’s coming but don’t stop.’
Jude frowned as he glanced over at her. He would have expected her to be pleased at having got back to the town but she looked almost as edgy now as she had done when they were being pursued.
‘You can relax,’ he said, injecting an extra-large dollop of honey-coated reassurance into his voice. It was a trick he employed when dealing with particularly nervous patients and it always worked. He was confident that it would work just as well now too. ‘We’re perfectly safe now.’
‘I hate to disillusion you, Dr Slater, but we won’t be safe until we’re at the hospital.’ She smiled thinly as she pointed to a gang of men standing on the corner of the road. ‘See those guys over there? They’re just waiting for someone like you to come along.’
‘Someone like me?’ Jude repeated, unconsciously slowing down.
‘Keep moving!’ She tapped him sharply on the knee so that his foot hit the accelerator and sent them shooting forward. ‘You never, ever slow down when you’re driving through the town. And it goes without saying that you never stop. Those guys will have this truck off you before you can blink.’
‘Oh, come on! You really think I’m just going to hand it over to them?’ he scoffed.
‘If they hold a gun to your head then yes I do. You’d be a fool not to.’ She looked him straight in the eyes and he could tell immediately that she wasn’t simply trying to alarm him. ‘Vehicles of any description are worth a fortune here. They’re far more valuable than a human life and I suggest you remember that.’
She didn’t say anything else but she didn’t need to; she had said more than enough. Jude’s heart plummeted as he drove through the town. He had known it wouldn’t be a picnic working here, but he had never imagined it would be this bad. By the time he pulled up in front of the hospital, he was beginning to wonder if he should have got onto the plane twelve hours or so ago.
‘Stay here while I find a porter,’ the woman instructed, jumping down from the cab.
Jude took a deep breath as she disappeared inside, determined to get himself back on even keel. Maybe the situation was far worse than he had expected but he would cope. He had to. Quite apart from the fact that he had been warned at his interview that there was only one flight per month in and out of Mwuranda, he had a lot to prove, didn’t he?
When he had left the NHS he had been completely burnt out. The pressure of working the kind of hours he had done, added to the daily struggle to find sufficient qualified staff to allow a scheduled surgery to go ahead, had ground him down. Every time he’d had to explain to a patient that an operation couldn’t take place, it had taken its toll on him. It had seemed nothing short of cruel to raise someone’s hopes only to dash them.
He’d had such high expectations when he had gone into surgery, too, a genuine desire to help those who had needed it most, but he had become disillusioned. Nevertheless, he would have carried on if it weren’t for Maddie, but her death had been the final straw. He had left the NHS and gone into the private sector. It had been either that or give up medicine altogether which he couldn’t quite bring himself to do. He had always believed that he had made the right decision, so why did he feel this need to vindicate his actions?
‘Right, let’s get him out of there.’
Jude swung round when the woman opened the cab door and felt his heart jerk like a puppet having its strings pulled. In that second he realised what was happening and bit back his groan of dismay. It was no longer enough that he proved his worth to his old mentor. Neither was it enough that he proved to himself that he could still hack it. For some inexplicable reason he needed to prove to her that he was a damned good surgeon!
