Читать книгу Doctor's Guide To Dating In The Jungle - Tina Beckett, Tina Beckett - Страница 10

Matt awoke to something nudging his side. He opened one eye and squinted sideways, encountering a worn pair of flip-flops.

Tanned skin, calloused feet.

Not the creamy white toes sporting pale pink polish that had driven him from his hammock in the middle of the night. He’d decided it was safer to remain on deck.

‘Why are you sleeping here, Mateus?’

Ah, yes, the question of the century, and one he’d prefer not to answer at the moment.

He shoved back the mosquito netting that was now tangled around him like a shroud and found Tiago, who stood with one hand scrubbing the top of his head, obviously still half-asleep.

‘It’s cooler,’ Matt muttered.

The young man snorted. ‘Really? On the Amazon, it is not cool anywhere.’

He had a point, but Matt chose to ignore it. ‘It’s still dark. Why are you up so early?’

‘I heard a noise on deck and wanted to make sure everything was secure.’

Hmm … that would have been a better answer than his own response. ‘Everything’s fine.’

‘Why do you not just stay in my quarters?’

Because Matt hadn’t been able to resist answering Stevie’s subtle challenge. She was adult enough to stay in a room with someone of the opposite sex, therefore he was determined to do the same. Only it hadn’t worked out quite like he’d hoped.

He sat up and rubbed his hand over his face, trying to erase the image of that smooth white calf and ankle that had appeared over the side of Stevie’s hammock and dangled close enough to give him nightmares of a different sort. And that damned sparkly polish on her toes hadn’t helped. He’d nearly fallen out of bed in his rush to put some distance between them.

He sighed, trying to disguise the sound. ‘Your quarters are cramped enough as it is.’

‘What about the infirmary?’

‘I’m fine.’

Tiago frowned. ‘I know you want to keep the germs out, but you can’t sleep on the hard deck for two weeks. What about your back? I can see it still bothers you.’

That was something Matt didn’t want to talk about either. ‘I’ll survive.’

‘But if you hurt it again, you might have to—’

‘Go back to bed. We’ll figure something else out in the morning.’

The other man tsked, but nodded. ‘I’ll at least hang the netting, so it does not strangle you in the night. Besides, the mosquitoes can feed right through it.’

The thing was so tangled, it probably provided a pretty good barrier, but he got up and helped Tiago suspend the midpoint from some fishing line and tack it to the wooden railing next to his makeshift pallet. Tiago was right, the netting was better this way.

Saying goodnight, Matt watched as the other man trudged back down the dark passageway to his own comfortable hammock, passing the quarters where Stevie was currently sleeping. Was her leg still on decadent display?

Forget it. He scooted beneath the netting and flopped down onto his blanket. That was another thing. He was used to sleeping in the buff and without the benefit of blankets. The additional coverings made him feel claustrophobic and hot. What had Tracy been thinking?

She hadn’t been. That much was obvious.

But would it have bothered him as much if Tracy herself had come and stayed on the boat? If they’d shared a room?

No, because not only was she Vickie’s sister, she was also a good friend. There was no attraction getting in the way of their work. Unlike with Stevie.

He snorted. Who said Stevie was attracted to him? Maybe it was purely a one-way street.

That wasn’t the only thing bothering him. He still had to figure out what they were going to tell the tribes when they went ashore tomorrow.

Maybe no one would even ask about Stevie. And if they did? What then?

He’d only been half joking when he asked Stevie if she was hiding a husband inside one of her suitcases. Because it would make it so much easier if there was one.

Or if Matt could simply say he’d gotten married again.

He blinked. Maybe he had. Or he could pretend he had.

No one had to know that he wasn’t bringing his new bride—who also happened to be a doctor—with him. Vickie had been a nurse, and they’d traveled together. No one thought a thing of it.

Would Stevie even agree to the ruse? He could tell her it was either that or she could go home. It was the truth, because he sure as hell couldn’t think of another story that would take care of any questions with one fell swoop.

And what about him? Would he be able to pretend to be Stevie’s husband, knowing he’d have to learn more about her to make their tale believable?

Putting his hands behind his head, he tried to go back to sleep and ignore what that would entail.

Matt Palermo, permanently grieving widower, might have to break his one iron-clad rule about women.

Don’t get too close—ever.

Her dad spun her around and around, holding her suspended by one arm and leg, while her other limbs dangled in space. She half giggled, half screamed and then thrashed around when she realized the swaying hadn’t been solely in her dreams. And her wiggling had just caused her to overbalance …

Scrambling, she clawed at the hammock with her hands, succeeding in grabbing the open woven fabric just as the whole contraption inverted itself. She found herself hanging upside down, her legs automatically wrapping around the center of the hammock and locking together at the ankles. She tightened her fingers to avoid dropping onto the hammock below hers.

Oh, no!

She blinked hard and twisted her head to stare at the bottom hammock before shuddering with relief. Abandoned. Matt was evidently already up and dressed.

Thank heavens. At least he hadn’t witnessed her utter and complete humiliation. Now, if she could just …

‘I didn’t realize you were part bat. Although you did mention having an aversion to the sun yesterday.’

Stevie froze. The words, murmured in a low voice that flowed through her like dark fragrant honey, could only come from one man.

She slowly tilted her head further back and, through the veil of her mosquito net, saw Matt. Upside down, but showered and fresh, while she was … well …

‘I had a slight accident.’

One side of his mouth quirked up. Or was it down? She couldn’t tell any more. ‘Yes, I can see that.’

‘Instead of standing there, staring, maybe you could help me figure out how to get down?’

‘I kind of like you the way you are.’

‘Hey!’ Her hair swung below her like a tangled skein of yarn, the lank strands almost brushing the lower hammock. ‘Stop fooling around and get over here. I’m starting to get dizzy. I don’t think you want a puddle of whatever’s left in my stomach all over your bed.’

That did it. In a flash, he’d ducked beneath the netting and was at her side. Two strong arms came out and settled under her shoulders and buttocks. ‘Okay, I’ve got you. Let go.’

‘Are you sure?’

He laughed. ‘Do you want to do this by yourself?’

The hard floor stared at her from a quite a distance away. Nope, she didn’t. She unhooked her legs first and felt the bulge of Matt’s biceps as he took the weight of her lower half. When she was certain he wouldn’t send her careening to the ground, she unfisted her hands.

And wound up right side up, in his arms. With her face way too close to his neck for comfort.

And the scent she’d caught yesterday as she’d passed him in the hallway?

Heavens, it was still there, headier than ever. Against her better judgement, she closed her eyes and leaned just a bit closer, allowing the air around him to fill her senses. Breathe, exhale, repeat … just like the shampoo commercials advised.

‘Better?’

She froze, her lungs ceasing all covert activity. Had she really been sniffing a strange man’s neck?

‘W-what?’

‘Your dizziness. I don’t want to set you down if you’re going to collapse on me.’

‘Oh. Um, no. I think I’m okay.’ Her voice came out shakier than she’d hoped, and she wondered if she might fall in a heap after all.

Seemingly oblivious to her confusion, he craned his head to the side and looked at her, making no move to put her down. ‘I see we should’ve reviewed the hammock safety video. If I had actually been in that bed and you’d dropped on top of me, things could have gotten rather ugly.’

No kidding. Especially since her T-shirt had been hiked to kingdom come as she’d dangled there. She glanced down, horrified to find a huge swath of her belly still exposed.

Keep talking, and he won’t notice. ‘No one mentioned that particular hazard when I applied for the job.’

A muscle twitched in his jaw for a moment or two and she realized how her words must have sounded. Especially when he pivoted away from the pair of hammocks and set her on her feet.

She yanked her Mets T-shirt down over her jogging shorts.

‘Not that I’m saying landing on top of you would be hazardous or anything …’

Oh, yes, it would be. Even saying it out loud did wonky things to her breathing which, in turn, had nothing to do with nearly falling out of her hammock.

Thankfully, Tiago appeared behind her, saving her from having to explain her meaning.

‘Nilson has breakfast ready, if you’re hungry,’ he said in Portuguese.

The man shifted from foot to foot as if embarrassed about something. Stevie wondered if he’d seen Matt holding her. Or if he understood enough English to know what they’d been saying.

‘Obrigada,’ Matt said, taking a step back.

‘Where do you want me to put your blanket and netting from last night?’ Tiago added.

Stevie glanced at the thin barrier surrounding the two hammocks. She would have thought they stayed in place at all times. What if someone wanted to nap? ‘Do you normally store this during the day?’ She moved the netting to the side and secured it with the bungee cord the way she’d seen it yesterday.

‘No.’ Color stained Matt’s neck, and the word came out halfstrangled.

Had she done something worse than hanging upside down from her hammock last night?

Tiago shook his head. ‘No, not this net, the one from the deck, where he slept.’

‘You …’ Stevie’s mind tried to work through what the man was saying. ‘You didn’t sleep here last night?’

‘Mateus said it was too hot.’

The fiery color moved from Matt’s neck to the tips of his ears. ‘What I said was it was cooler out there.’ He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the deck before turning away. ‘Let’s get that breakfast you mentioned.’

As he moved out of the room, Stevie wondered why he’d let her believe that he’d slept below her the whole night when obviously he hadn’t. He’d even talked about what a disaster it would have been if she’d fallen on top of him, all the while knowing it hadn’t been a remote possibility.

Had it all been an act? Or had he simply woken up to a stuffy room and moved his bed onto the deck?

Except Tiago’s shifting seemed to indicate what he’d done wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Which implied he normally stayed in his room.

All night.

Stevie stopped off at the restroom to dress and wash her hands and face the best she could. When she finally made it to the dining area, she’d halfway composed herself.

She filled the plate Nilson gave her and found Matt already sitting at the picnic-style table. Dropping onto the bench across from him, she set the food in front of her. ‘You know, I can sleep on deck if you’re uncomfortable sharing the room with me.’

‘I told you why I moved. Besides, it’s not good for Tiago and Nilson to have to worry about tiptoeing around during the night.’ He glanced down at his plate. ‘Or finding a half-dressed woman on deck. I’d prefer you sleep in the bedroom.’

He had a point. But it didn’t seem fair to have kicked him out of his own bed. She glanced at the small eating space. ‘How about this, then? We can string your hammock up in here before you go to bed and then stow it in the mornings.’

Tiago, who’d evidently been listening in on their conversation—putting paid to her hope that he didn’t understand English—chimed in, ‘This is a good idea, Mateus. I will install some strong hooks in the wall and center beam … and one in the ceiling for the mosquito net you insist on everyone using.’ He paused, fiddling with his fingers. ‘Although I understand now why it is so important.’

Matt nodded, a shadow passing through his eyes before he switched over to Portuguese. ‘Thank you, my friend.’

Turning his attention to Nilson, he asked, ‘How long before we reach the village?’

‘We should arrive sometime before dinner.’

‘Good. I’d like to go over the charts with you and decide our schedule for the next couple of weeks.’ He glanced at Stevie.

‘Can you fend for yourself for a little while? We’ll still need to discuss our … story before we reach the village, though.’

She tensed. Their story. How could she have forgotten about that? She forced a smile to her lips, wondering what he had in mind. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Shall we meet back here in, say, three hours?’

‘That sounds good.’

Three hours. Just enough time to focus some of her nervous energy on something other than the situation at hand.

Stevie ran a forearm over her damp brow, the piece of fine-gauge steel wool gripped between her fingertips.

Okay, boat varnish was a whole lot tougher than the glossy finish on the floors in her apartment in New York.

Which she guessed was a good thing, since the stuff was holding up nicely, despite being pitted and dark with grime. She’d hoped her scrubbing would take off the dirt and leave the finish intact. And that’s exactly what was happening.

And that nervous energy she’d been worried about?

Gone. Washed away by rivers of sweat.

Kneeling on a towel to protect her legs from the scorching surface of the deck, Stevie leaned closer to her work area and rubbed at the one-foot section of planking. She paused to adjust her bikini top, admiring the area she’d just cleaned. It might take for ever, but hidden beneath layers of dirt the wood was a rich, glossy mahogany.

Just like the dark sun-kissed hair of the man she’d be working with. So different than Michael’s blond hair and fair skin. The only thing they had in common were their blue eyes. But while Michael’s were darker and sparkling with intelligence and determination, she hadn’t noticed the flecks of cruelty that lay just below the surface until it had been too late. In one careless blow, he’d destroyed their future together, and then, when she’d dared to call him on it, reached out in a rage and crushed her dreams as well. It had only taken one phone call to a few key board members, and she’d been as good as finished.

She shuddered. Michael’s eyes were definitely not her favorite feature. Not any more.

Matt’s, on the other hand, seemed … She searched for the right word.

Haunted.

She scrubbed harder, forcing her fingers to the task. Why was she even comparing the two men?

A bead of moisture dripped into her eye, and she shook her head, as much to rid herself of any stray thought as to relieve the burning. She settled for blotting it on her bare shoulder, wishing she’d scrounged up a second towel to wipe her face. At this rate, her huge bottle of sunblock wouldn’t even last a full day. She peered at the large area of deck behind her.

Three feet down. Thirty or so more to go.

She groaned aloud and pulled the brim of her baseball cap further down her forehead, thankful for the slight shade it provided, and went back to work. It couldn’t be easy, keeping up a boat while tending to patients—and she had a feeling money was tight on the hospital ship. But surely someone could have tried to do something for the poor thing. It seemed weary of life in general.

It’s not a living thing, Stevie. It’s just a boat.

Maybe Michael was right when he’d poked fun of the Projeto Vida article. Maybe coming here had been crazy on more than one count, but she hadn’t been able to just stay in New York and watch him run her reputation into the—

‘You don’t have to do that.’

The steel wool went spinning out of her hand, and she scrabbled for it, almost doing a face plant onto the deck. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught Matt standing just behind her, a pair of khaki shorts and grey shirt covering his powerful frame. Tanned feet, the lightest smattering of dark hair visible on top, were shoved into a pair of beige flip-flops.

She sat up in a rush, praying her top was still glued to the right spots. ‘I thought we’re agreed to meet in three hours.’

‘Someone tattled on you, and I had to come see for myself.’

His brows went up, his glance trailing over her. ‘So this is what a vascular surgeon looks like when swabbing the decks.’

She stood, all too aware of how grubby she must look in comparison to Matt’s neatly groomed appearance. ‘It takes quite a bit of talent, evidently, since no one here seems to have mastered the technique.’

He laughed and wagged a finger. ‘Not nice.’ Holding up a glass of water, the ice tinkled against the sides before he tilted it and took a long swig of the contents. ‘Too bad, because I was just bringing you something cool to drink.’

She licked her lips, all thoughts of Michael sliding away as she stared at the condensation collecting on the icy surface of the glass. ‘That’s just mean.’

‘And you’re turning pink. I thought vampires hated the sun.’ He blinked, his eyes zeroing in on her midriff region, then a frown appeared.