Dr. Do-Or-Die. Lara Lacombe
very contagious. That was the only thing that had saved the base. If the virus or whatever it was figured out how to jump from person to person? This whole place would be wiped out within a week. It was the nightmare that kept him awake, trying to figure out what he could do protect the researchers and staff toiling away here at the bottom of the world.
He hadn’t protested when the base commander called the CDC for advice—he had his pride, but given the nature of this disease, he wasn’t about to turn down help, especially not from people who had tackled this sort of thing before. He just hoped the guy they’d sent out would be easy to work with—people were already stressed and on edge, wondering when the disease would strike again.
The voices were coming from the small bay that held the dentist’s chair and equipment. Dr. Farnly was their resident dentist, but he hadn’t seen much work recently. Grant poked his head around the corner and was shocked to find a small group of people moving dentistry supplies and equipment and setting up what looked like laboratory instruments.
The two women and two men moved around the space like they owned the place. He opened his mouth to protest, but his gaze caught on a blond ponytail and the words died in his throat.
Avery?
His brain rejected the idea almost immediately, but his heart took a little more convincing. Of course it wasn’t her—it couldn’t be. But this woman, whoever she was, had the same color hair—a warm, golden mix of honey, sunshine and corn silk that Avery had worn in long waves cascading down her back. How many hours had he spent running his hands over the soft strands, stroking it away from her face as she lay with her head in his lap, both of them enjoying the lazy days of summer back when they’d been college students and their biggest worry had been what to do on Friday night?
This woman shifted and something in his chest tightened, her graceful movements yet another reminder of the woman he’d once loved. He realized now with the gift of hindsight just how stupid he’d been. But it was too late to make amends. Avery had moved on with her life and she deserved better.
Fresh grief welled up, but Grant tamped it down. He missed Avery, would always miss her. But he couldn’t get bogged down in emotion now, not when so many people were counting on him to stay focused.
He shook his head to dispel the faint nostalgia that always appeared whenever he thought of Avery. He’d realized his mistake almost immediately after their breakup, and he’d spent days mired in the memories of their life together. But as the weeks and months had turned to years, he’d gotten better about keeping thoughts of her tucked away, only stopping to take them out and linger over them when he was alone. He certainly hadn’t meant to indulge now, in the middle of the hospital.
It was the fatigue, he decided. His defenses were down, which was why he’d been blindsided by the sight of a woman with long, blond hair. Time to meet this expert and head back to bed for a long-overdue nap.
“What is going on here?” The question came out a little harsher than he’d intended, his emotions still too close to the surface for his liking.
One of the nurses glanced over and stepped to his side. “It’s the CDC expert—they’re setting up a temporary lab.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. We don’t have the space for that!”
She shrugged and held up her hands in a kind of “what am I supposed to do about it?” gesture.
So much for the guy being easy to work with. He’d been here all of five minutes and was already reorganizing and repurposing space without asking permission. Grant eyed the small group, trying to pick out the man at the head of this little takeover.
“Who’s in charge here?” he asked, glancing back and forth between a tall, skinny man in a blue scrub top and a stockier blond guy in a Harvard sweatshirt. My money’s on Harvard, he thought, waiting for a reply.
“I am,” came a distinctly feminine voice.
A very familiar voice.
Oh, God. It’s not possible. Is it?
His heart beating double time in his chest, Grant turned and found Avery Thatcher staring at him, one eyebrow quirked up in that familiar, inquisitive expression he’d once loved. She stared at him for a moment, and he watched as her blue eyes flared wide in recognition. He couldn’t see her mouth because of the mask she wore, but he was willing to bet she was biting her bottom lip the way she always had when something bothered her.
“Grant?” She sounded almost as incredulous as he felt, and she tightened her grip on the clipboard she held, her knuckles going white under her skin.
A tsunami of words rose in his throat, all the things he should have said ten years ago now jostling and vying for expression. He swallowed hard. “Hello, Avery. Long time no see.” It was a lame greeting, but it was better than gawking at her like she was a ghost come back to life.
She was silent a moment, and Grant got the distinct impression Avery wanted nothing more than to turn her back on him and pretend he wasn’t there. But she was too much of a professional to let her personal desires get in the way of her job. “Grant,” she repeated evenly. “What a surprise.”
He tried to laugh to dispel the tension, but the sound came out as more of a strangled wheeze. “I know, right? Of all the gin joints in the world...” He trailed off and Avery smiled politely—he could see her cheeks move under the paper of the mask, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Indeed. So you’re the chief here?”
He cleared his throat, happy to change the subject. Besides, what could he say to make up for the past? It would take more than a few bad jokes to reach her now. “I am. I take it you’re the expert from the CDC?”
“I am,” she replied.
A fierce burst of pride came out of nowhere and made him want to hug her, but he knew better than to try it. Even when they’d been undergraduate students, Avery always wanted to be the best. She’d worked hard to rise to the head of their class, and thanks to her talent and determination, she’d had her pick of medical schools. It was no surprise that she was now at the top of her field.
A hint of sadness tinged the edges of his vision as he studied her. If he hadn’t been such a dumb kid, he would have been a part of her life all this time, would have celebrated her accomplishments with her. Instead he felt like a stranger, a realization made all the more painful, thanks to the closeness they’d once shared.
He deliberately turned his thoughts away from the past. “It’s not airborne,” he said, gesturing to her mask. “You don’t need that.” Her eyes were quite expressive, but he wanted to see the rest of her face so he could get a better idea of what she was thinking. Once upon a time he’d known all her expressions and had been able to practically see her thoughts based on how she held her mouth or lifted an eyebrow. Would he still be able to read her like that now?
Her eyes narrowed. “I was told the patients suffered extensive respiratory symptoms.”
“That’s true, but whatever is causing this disease doesn’t seem to be transmitted through the air. Why do you think I’m still alive?” His tone was light, but she didn’t smile.
She eyed him up and down, as if assessing the truth of his statement for herself. After a long moment, she lifted her hand and tugged the mask down, exposing her pert nose and full, pink lips to his gaze.
Grant felt the faint stirrings of desire as he stared at her mouth, remembering the feel of it against his own. Memories flooded his mind, assaulting his senses and overwhelming his thoughts. He fought to put them back in the box where they belonged, but in his sleep-deprived state, it was harder than usual to keep things under control. Desperate for a distraction, he cleared his throat. “What are you doing?” He gestured to the equipment being crammed cheek by jowl on the available counter space, and the boxes of what could only be lab supplies stacked on the floor.
Avery frowned slightly. “Setting up a field lab,” she replied in a tone that