Rafael's One Night Bombshell. Tina Beckett
sorry? Have we met?” The words didn’t come from her but from the redhead, and his attention shifted to her.
Ah, so that was it.
One side of Rafe’s mouth twitched. He should have known. He had known actually, although he couldn’t prove it until now. His glance tracked back, and he couldn’t resist a murmured, “Liar, liar...”
Pants on fire.
Only her pants hadn’t been the only thing on fire that night. Her touch had scorched like wildfire across his senses.
Crimson washed into her face, gray stormy flecks appearing in those expressive eyes. “I think he got the names mixed up, but Ra...er, Dr. Valentino and I have met on one occasion.”
The redhead gave her a quick nudge with her shoulder. “Cassie, wow. You didn’t tell me!”
The administrator frowned. “You’ve already met to discuss the cases?”
Cassandra... Cassie—now that name fit her.
“No, I...we...” Her voice trailed away.
“We have a mutual acquaintance here in town.” He might not be able to count good old Jack D. since Cassie had obviously never shaken hands with a glass of whiskey in her life. But Mad Ron had definitely recognized her. And since he and Ron went way back, it wasn’t a lie. At least, not the whopper of a lie that “Bonnie” had been.
Cassie’s shoulders slumped, probably in relief. “Yes, we do.”
The woman who had to be Bonnie muttered something that sounded like, “Girlfriend, you and I need to have a long discussion.”
So that’s why she’d used the name. These two were friends. His smile widened. “Now that the introductions are out of the way, why don’t we sit down and discuss the cases, and you can share your concerns. In return, I’ll tell you what I know.”
Well, maybe not everything he knew, like that cute little dimple she had on her left shoulder blade. Or the way her soft murmurs had caused a chain reaction in him that wouldn’t be denied.
“I’ve got the files ready in the meeting room down the hall,” said Ms. Porter. “Shall we? There’s coffee in there as well.”
He would need bucketfuls of caffeine to knock him back to reality. Because right now he felt like he was floating in some otherworldly place where not a thing made sense. And it had nothing to do with the paraglider he’d just come off.
There was nothing he could do but to keep moving and get this meeting over with. Before he did something stupid. Like touch her to make sure she was really here.
Over coffee and some rather bad hospital sandwiches they went over the three cases and the ways in which each was similar and different. Two of the patients were from Brazil, including the last one. And one was from Honduras. They definitely met the parameters of exposure. All three of the babies had been born with microcephaly, one whose head was a third smaller than it should have been with some accompanying reflex problems. Another newborn was just under the norms. The third baby had clubbing of the hands and a cleft palate in addition to the microcephaly. There were pictures to accompany the reports.
Rafe’s gut twinged a warning as he studied the images of the damage this virus could cause. One fateful encounter and someone’s world changed forever. This time he wasn’t thinking about Cassie, or even about Zika, but about his own childhood. One life gone, another life saved. It seemed like an even exchange when you laid it all out on paper. Only it wasn’t. And yet that’s exactly what had happened, due to a senseless act.
Hadn’t he just celebrated that anniversary?
Celebrated wasn’t the word he was looking for, but when one went out drinking and picking up women to help blot the pain of loss, it was the only term he could think of.
Only he’d never had to face any of those women again.
Until now.
And he could honestly say the experience was not one he cared to repeat. The hair tie in his pocket seemed to mock all his efforts. So much for forgetting.
“Any nearby hospitals reporting anything?”
Cassie glanced at Bonnie and Ms. Porter. “I have a colleague who works at Buena Vista who had a baby born with a cleft palate a week ago. No microcephaly in that case, though.”
Alejandro spent most of his time over there, maybe he should give him a call. Although since his brother had found true love a few weeks ago and had adopted a special needs baby, he might be a little preoccupied with other things. No, Alejandro was nothing if not good at his job. But his specialty was pediatric transplants, not neonatal care, so it was a totally different field from what they were looking at here.
He tried not to think about the exact reasons his brother went into that field, because it brought up his own yearly vigil all over again.
It was his job to check every angle, though. “One of my brothers practices at Buena Vista, I’ll give him a call. What’s the name of your colleague?”
“Rebecca Stanton.”
Her eyes had lost the defensive gleam they’d held moments earlier. The ring wasn’t on her finger, so she and whoever she’d broken up with hadn’t gotten back together.
No involvement. Remember?
The hospital administrator gave him a few phone numbers and names of people he could contact over at Buena Vista. “Is there anything else?” she asked.
“Not that I can think of at the moment. Are any of the patients still at the hospital?”
Cassie nodded. “Renato Silva. He developed some breathing issues, which we need to stabilize before releasing him.”
“I’d like to examine him, if I could.”
Ms. Porter went to the door. “I’ll leave Dr. Larrobee to help you with that, then. Let me know if you have any further questions.”
He shook hands with her and the infamous Bonnie, and waited until they left the room before saying anything else. “Bonnie, huh?”
“I know. I’m sorry for giving you a fake name. I just never dreamed...”
“You never dreamed you’d see me again.”
“Actually, I didn’t, or I wouldn’t have...”
She wouldn’t have what? Sat next to him at the bar? Spent the night with him?
“Isn’t there a certain book that warns your sins shall find you out?”
A smile teased the corners of her mouth as color washed back into her face. “I think falsifying names were the least of our sins in that case.”
Yes, they were. Thoughts that caused certain synapses in his brain to begin firing.
“I see you found another hair band.”
Cassie’s fingers went to the bun at the back of her head. “I did. You wouldn’t happen to know where my other one went, would you?”
Any twinge of conscience he’d had over taking it vanished at the way her voice lowered, the sultry edge he’d heard the night at the bar coming back.
“Not a clue.”
Ha! If she knew the thing was about to burn a hole in his pocket, she’d probably kill him and leave his body in one of the supply closets.
It was one night, Rafe. Hardly worth mentioning.
Besides, he wasn’t here to talk about hair ties or what they’d done. He was here to see if Zika was growing to epidemic proportions on their shoreline. “You haven’t been to any of the countries involved, have you?”
She frowned as if confused by the question. “No. But it can be passed sexually, from what we’re hearing.”
“Yes.