He shook his head. ‘No. It’s not what we’ve got. But someone else has it—down in Florida. First case in the US in years.’ He started pacing around; she could tell he was agitated. Desperate to get out of this glass box and start dealing with another infectious disease. Donovan Reid was permanently looking for the next disaster to deal with. And this would be the biggest disaster since the suspected smallpox outbreak. How on earth could an African disease be in the US?

  She screwed up her face. The migraine was still there, but the dimmed blue lights were definitely helping—as was the fact she’d had something to eat. Along with the meds and the quick thirty-minute nap she might actually shake this off.

  The blue glow was doing strange things to Donovan Reid’s skin. It was almost like being in a nightclub. She didn’t even want to think how pale it was currently making her look.

  She reeled off the first thing that came into her head. ‘Marburg haemorrhagic fever. First discovered in Germany in the 1960s where workers were exposed to infected tissues from monkeys. Now it’s usually passed to humans by bats. Previous cases have mainly been in Africa, or in travellers who’d just visited. There’s no vaccine, no real cure, just treatment of symptoms.’

  Donovan spun around to face her, his eyebrows lifting appreciatively. ‘Well, well, I’m impressed. All that with no computer in front of you.’

  She folded her arms across her chest. This was it. This was her chance. A chance to make up for her earlier blunder and try and find a foothold into his team.

  Everyone wanted to get a permanent place on one of the fieldwork teams. It was the cutting edge of disease detective work. The front line in dealing with patients and making the biggest difference to the prevention of infectious disease.

  She’d made an agreement with girls earlier to fight dirty for a place on his team. It was time to show him just how encyclopaedic her brain was.

  ‘Actually, that’s the just the summary. Would you like me to tell you the rest of the details? The fact that the last known case was in Uganda? It’s got an incubation period of five to ten days. And it’s got between a twenty-three to ninety per cent fatality rate.’

  Oh, yeah. She was batting big style now. Being trapped in here hadn’t been much fun. Getting naked in front of Donovan Reid had been nothing short of humiliating.

  There had to be at least one bonus in this lousy day.

  Her mouth was running away with her now. ‘Under the microscope it has a really distinctive shape—like a shepherd’s crook, which means it’s rarely mistaken for anything else.’

  She saw the flicker of amusement in his blue eyes. ‘That’s okay, Grace, that’s more than enough.’

  Just as well. The light in here was doing distracting things to his blue eyes. Enhancing the colour and making them look a movie-star bright shade of blue. She was fast losing all concentration.

  David, one of the other doctors, was reading a whole host of information through the glass to Donovan about the lab tests. ‘Frank just got phoned about these. He’s confirming the results.’

  It was standard procedure. Most labs weren’t equipped to do the specialist tests that the DPA carried out. Anomalies were noted, along with patient’s symptoms and if there was any query of infectious disease, the samples were forwarded to the DPA.

  ‘Do we know anything about the victim?’

  Victim. Not patient. It only meant one thing.

  ‘They’re dead?’

  David nodded. ‘They died an hour ago. But they’ve had a child admitted with similar symptoms, so we’ve got a rush on to try and get a diagnosis.’

  It made sense. Once they had a diagnosis they could find the best possible treatment for the patient.

  David was still reading from the paper in his hand. ‘Jessie Tanner, sixty-seven, from Florida. Admitted four days ago with diarrhoea, vomiting, maculopapular rash and jaundice.’

  That name.

  Grace’s skin prickled, every hair on her arms standing on end. There was no air movement in the isolation room but she could almost swear a cold breeze had just blasted her. No. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

  David was still talking, ‘Deteriorated rapidly. Didn’t respond to IV or oxygen support.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Her hand covered her mouth. She was trying frantically to remember. When was the last time she’d spoken to her? Had she said anything different? ‘Oh, no. I’ve missed something. I didn’t take her seriously.’

  Donovan frowned. ‘What on earth are you talking about. Grace? How on earth would you know someone in Florida?’ His face paled, ‘Is it family?’ There was an edge to his voice, a real concern.

  Grace shook her head fiercely, her heart beating furiously in her chest. ‘You don’t get it, Donovan. It’s her. Jessie Tanner phones here every day.’

  ‘What for?’ He didn’t get it. It was clear he had no idea what she was talking about.

  She took a deep breath, ‘Donovan, Jessie Tanner is crazy bat lady.’

  * * *

  ‘What?’ All the heads outside the isolation room shot round at the rise in pitch in Donovan’s voice.

  Grace jerked back as if she’d just been stung by a wasp.

  He couldn’t believe his ears. This wasn’t happening. It just wasn’t. This was one of those crazy, muddled dreams you had, with totally random things happening all around.

  Nothing about today seemed real.

  Least of all being naked in a shower with Grace.

  He put his hand on her shoulder, trying to make sense of what she’d just said. ‘How can you be sure?’ He had a bad feeling about this.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Because I remember things. I remember details. That’s her name. That’s where she lives.’ Grace put her head in her hands and groaned. ‘She hasn’t phoned the last few days. I wondered what was wrong with her.’

  Donovan looked at David. ‘Get the call log. Find out the last time she called and who spoke to her. Find out what her query was.’ David walked away swiftly.

  Grace lifted her hands. ‘But it’s the same thing every day. It’s always questions about the bats. There are some in the caves near her, and in the forest next to her.’

  She screwed up her face. ‘But how could African fruit bats get to a cave in Florida?’

  David shook his head. ‘African fruit bats probably couldn’t, but Jamaican fruit bats could. I’ll get someone from environmental health or the fish and wildlife service.’

  There was a movement to their side. Frank from the lab. This time he wasn’t wearing the hazmat suit and he had something in his hands. He pushed the button outside the isolation room’s pressurised doors, not waiting for the second set to close before he walked in.

  He was laughing, holding up the sample bottle with a tiny bit of powder in the bottom.

  Donovan caught the shout in his throat. Frank had been here longer than him. He knew more about biohazards than Donovan ever would. It must be safe. They must be safe.

  ‘What is it?’

  Frank smiled, he was shaking his head. ‘You’ll never believe it.’

  ‘Try me.’ He wasn’t in the mood for jokes. The sooner he knew that the staff around him hadn’t been exposed to anything dangerous the better.

  ‘It’s honey dust.’

  ‘What?’ Of all the things in the world he’d expected to hear, that hadn’t featured at all. No wonder Grace’s skin and hair had glistened.

  Frank kept laughing. ‘I know. I can’t believe it either. Must have been some high-school kids playing a prank.’

  Now he knew his staff were safe Donovan felt his blood pressure rising. ‘Some prank. They shut down our agency for the last few hours.’ He waved his hands around the isolation room. ‘Look at the procedures we had to put in place. I don’t even want to guess how much this has cost us.’

  Frank shrugged. ‘I’m just glad we don’t have a full-scale incident on our hands. This could have been our worst nightmare.’ He lifted his hands. ‘I’ll take a high-school prank over a real-life disaster any day.’

  ‘What’s honey dust?’ Her voice was quiet, timid. He’d almost forgotten she was standing behind him.

  He and Frank exchanged a glance. Grace Barclay didn’t know what honey dust was. Who was going to tell her?

  Frank pressed the sample bottle into Donovan’s hand with a glint in his eye. ‘I’ll leave this with you, Don. I’ve let the lead investigator from the FBI know we’ll be standing down. I take it they’ll fingerprint the letter and try and track it.’ He was still smiling, his gaze flicking back towards Grace. ‘I have some more tests to run on another possible outbreak. Come and see me in an hour.’

  The Marburg virus. He’d need to deal with that as soon as possible.

  Frank left, chuckling away to himself as Grace continued to stare at Donovan.

  She stepped towards him, fixing her green eyes on his. ‘I don’t get it. What’s going on? What’s honey dust? I take it’s not dangerous?’

  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?’

  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.’