THE LAST TEMPTATION OF DR. DALTON (3 page)

CHAPTER THREE

H
OURS
PASSED
WHILE
Trent worked on Lionel. Worry over whether or not she’d made the right decision made it difficult for Charlie to sit in her office and do paperwork, but she had to try. With creditors demanding a big payment in three weeks, getting that funding check in her pocket for the new wing from the Gilchrist Foundation was critical.

She made herself shuffle through everything one more time. It seemed the only things that had to happen to get the money were a final inspection from a Gilchrist Foundation representative and proof she had a plastic surgeon on board. Both of which would happen any day now, thank heavens.

So how, in the midst of this important stuff, could she let her attention wander? She was thinking instead about the moment five days ago when Trent had strolled into this office. Thinking about how she’d stared, open-mouthed, like a schoolgirl.

Tall and lean, with slightly long, nearly black hair starkly contrasting with the color of his eyes, he was the kind of man who made a woman stop and take a second look. And a third. Normally, eyes like his would be called ice-blue, but they’d been anything but cold; warm and intelligent, they’d glinted with a constant touch of amusement. A charming, lopsided smile had hovered on his lips.

When she’d shaken his hand, he’d surprised her by tugging her against him in a warm embrace. Disarmed, she’d found herself wanting to stay there longer than the brief moment he’d held her close. She’d found her brain short-circuiting at the feel of his big hands pressed to her back; his lean, muscled body against hers; his distinctive masculine scent.

That same friendly embrace had been freely given to every woman working in the hospital, young and old, which had left all of them grinning, blushing and nearly swooning.

No doubt, the man was dynamite in human form, ready to blast any woman’s heart to smithereens.

But not Charlie’s. She’d known the second he’d greeted her with that genial hug that she would have to throw armor over that central organ. She’d cordially invited him to join her and John Adams for dinners, enjoying his intelligence, his amusing stories and, yes, his good looks and sophistication. She’d been sure she had everything under control.

But the night before he was to leave, when that embrace had grown longer and more intimate, when he’d finally touched his lips to hers, she hadn’t resisted the desire to be with him, to enjoy a light and fun evening. An oh-so-brief diversion amidst the work that was her life. And, now that circumstances required they be in close contact for a little longer, there was no way she’d let him know that simply looking at him made her fantasize about just one more night. That was not going to happen—period.

Yes, their moment together was
so
last week. She smirked at the thought, even though a ridiculous part of her felt slightly ego-crushed that he, too, wanted to steer clear of any possible entanglement.

But that was a good thing. The man clearly loved women, all women. She’d known she was just one more notch in his travel bag, and he’d been just another notch in the fabric of her life too. Except that there hadn’t been too many opportunities for “notching” since she’d finished grad school and come back to Africa.

She had to grin as she grabbed the info she wanted to share with the teachers at the school. Notching: now there was a funny euphemism for great sex if ever there was one.

She was so deep in thought about the great sex she’d enjoyed last night that she stepped into the hall without looking and nearly plowed her head into Trent’s strong biceps.

“Whoa.” His hands grasped her shoulders as she stumbled. “You late for lunch or something?”

Her heart sped up annoyingly as he held her just inches from his chest. “Is that a crack about how much I like to eat?”

“Not a crack. I’ve just observed that when you’re hungry you don’t let anything get between you and that plate.”

She looked up into his twinkling blue eyes. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that women don’t like people implying they’re gluttons?”

“No negative implications from me. I like a woman who eats.” His voice dropped lower. “I like the perfect and beautiful curves on your perfect and beautiful body.”

As she stared up at him, the light in his eyes changed, amusement fading into something darker, more dangerous.

Desire. It hung between them, electric and heavy in the air, and Trent slowly tipped his head towards hers.

He was going to kiss her. The realization sent her heart into an accelerated tempo. A hot tingle slipped across her skin as his warm breath touched her mouth, and she lifted her hands to his chest, knowing she should push him away, but instead keeping her palms pressed to his hard pecs.

She couldn’t let it happen, only to say goodbye again in a few more days. He’d made it clear he felt the same way. But, as she was thinking all that, she licked her lips in silent invitation.

His hands tightened on her arms as though he couldn’t decide whether to pull her close or push her away, then he released her. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I forgot we’re just casual acquaintances now.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his expression now impassive, all business. “I wanted to let you know it went well with Lionel.”

She sucked in a breath, trying to be equally businesslike, unaffected by his potent nearness and the need to feel his lips on hers one more time. “He’s okay? You fixed the hemangioma? And he looks good?”

“You probably wouldn’t think he looks good.”

Her stomach dropped. “Why...? What, is it messed up?”

He laughed. “No. But right now it’s sutured and swollen and would only look good to a zombie. Or a surgeon who knows what he’s doing. We’ll take the bandage off in a few days.”

“Okay. Great.” She pressed her hand to her chest, hoping to goodness it really had turned out all right. Hoping the hard beat of her heart was just from the scare, and not a lingering effect of the almost-kiss of a moment ago.

“Can you unlock your car for me? I need to get my stuff out and take it to my room.”

“Of course. But I didn’t tell you—even though I’m not happy with our Dr. Smith, I couldn’t exactly throw him out on the streets until his flight leaves tomorrow. So he’s going to be staying in the room you were in for just tonight.”

“What? I’m not staying at your house again.”

It was hard not to be insulted at the horror on his face. ‘Goodbye, Charlie’ took on a whole new meaning with Trent. “Sorry, but you’re sleeping on a rollaway here in my office. I don’t want you staying in my house, either.”

“You do too.” His lips quirked, obliterating his frown.

“Uh, no, I don’t. Like I said before, you’re an egomaniac. Somebody needs to bring you down a peg or two, and I guess it’s going to be me.”

“Thanks for your help. I appreciate it more than you know.” That irritating little smile gave way to seriousness. “And it’s good we’re on the same page. Second goodbyes can get...sticky.”

“Agreed. And you’re welcome. I’ll get my keys now before I head to the school.” She turned, so glad she hadn’t fallen into an embrace with the conceited guy. His long fingers grasped her elbow and the resulting tingle that sped up her arm had her jerking it away.

“Wait a second. You’re going up to the school?”

“Yes. I have some things I want to go over with the teachers. I’m having lunch with them and the kids.”

He was silent, just looking at her with a slight frown over those blue eyes, as though he couldn’t decide something. He finally spoke. “Mind if I come along? I’d like to see it, and I’m not needed in the clinic right now.”

“Sure. If you want.” She shrugged casually. Did the man have to ponder whether seeing the school was worth being with her for a few hours? Or was she being hypersensitive?

She led the way down the short hall into the soupy, humid air, making sure to stand on Trent’s left so her good ear would be closest to him. “The kids love visitors. But we’ll be walking, so don’t be surprised if you get a little muddy.”

“Glad I’m not wearing my designer shoes today. Then again, I could’ve taken them off. Nothing like a little mud between the toes.”

The thought of cool, squishy mud on bare feet, then playing a little footsie together, sounded strangely appealing, and she rolled her eyes at herself as they trudged up the road to the schoolhouse. Maybe she needed to try and find a local boyfriend to take off this edge she kept feeling around Trent. He reached for the binder of papers she was carrying and tucked it under his arm.

“So you were the boy who earned points by carrying a girl’s books to school? Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Hey, I looked for any way to earn points. Carrying books was just one of them.”

“I can just imagine. So what other ways did you earn points?” And why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut? “You know, never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”

“You already know some of them.” He leaned closer as they walked, the scent of him teasing her nose. “But a few things got me more points than others. For example, my famous shoulder-rubs always scored big.”

The memory of that shoulder rub came in a rush of clarity—them naked in her bed, sated and relaxed, the ceiling fan sending cool whispers of air across their skin. Her breathing got a little shallow and she walked faster.

“One of the ground rules is to stop with the references to last night. Got it?”

“I wasn’t referring to anything but the shoulder rub I gave you at your office desk. Can I help it if your mind wants to go other places?”

She scowled at the bland innocence on his face. The man was about as far from innocent as he could be. “Mmm-hmm. So, when you mention back rubs, you don’t picture me naked?”

His slow smile, his blue eyes dancing as he leaned closer, made her feel a little weak at the knees. “Charlotte, you can bet I frequently picture you naked.” His gaze held hers, then slid away to the road. “Again, I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. Let’s talk about the school. Did you open it at the same time as the hospital?”

Phew; she had to stop just blurting out what she was thinking, though he seemed to have the same problem. Good thing he changed the subject, or she just might have melted down into the mud.

“John Adams concentrated on getting the school open while I focused on the hospital. His daughter, Patience—I think you met her?—will be going to school next year, so he’s been pretty excited about the project. They live in a small apartment attached to the school, so she’ll probably be there today. She loves to hang out in the classrooms and pretend she can read and write.”

“Patience is a cutie. She and I bonded over ice-cream.” His eyes always turned such a warm blue when he talked about children; it filled her chest with some kind of feeling she didn’t want to analyze. “So, is John from here?”

“Just so you know, he’s always gone by both his first and last name. I’m not sure why.” She smiled. “John Adams’s parents both worked with my parents here. They left too when the war broke out. Their family and mine met up again in Togo and, since he’s just a few years older than I am, he’s kind of like a brother. And I love Patience like I would a niece.”

“Where’s her mother?”

“She died suddenly of meningitis. It was a terrible shock.” She sighed. “Moving here with me to open this place has been a fresh start for John Adams and Patience, and hugely helpful to me. I couldn’t have done it alone.”

“I’ve been wondering where your funding is coming from. The GPC’s been cutting back, so I know they can’t be floating cash for the whole hospital.”

“We’ve shaken down every possible donor, believe me. The school was as big a shambles as the hospital, and usually donor groups focus on one or the other. But we managed to get the building reasonably repaired and the basics in—desks and supplies and stuff. We opened with thirty primary-school-aged kids enrolled and have almost a hundred now.” She shook her head. “It’s not nearly enough, though, with half a million Liberian kids not attending school at all. And sixty percent of girls and women over fifteen can’t read or write.”

He frowned. “Is it as hard to raise cash for a school as it is for a hospital?”

“It’s all hard. But I’m working on getting a donation from a church group in the States that’ll help us hire a new teacher and have enough food for the kids’ lunches. I’m excited. It looks like it’s going to come through.” Charlie smiled at Trent, but his expression stayed uncharacteristically serious. “We hate turning families away, but can’t just endlessly accept kids into the program, you know? It’s not fair to the teachers or the students to have classrooms so big nobody gets the attention they need. So I’m sure hoping it works out.”

“How soon will you know?”

“In the next day or two, I think.”

His expression was oddly inscrutable. “Be sure to tell me if the donation comes through or not, okay?”

“Okay.” She had to wonder why he wanted to know, but appreciated his interest. “As for the hospital, I’m supposed to get a giant check from the Gilchrist Foundation as soon as the new wing is ready to go, thank heavens.”

He stopped dead and stared at her. “The Gilchrist Foundation?”

“Yes. You’ve heard of them?”

“Yeah. You could say that.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“H
AS
THE
G
ILCHRIST
Foundation donated to hospitals you’ve worked at before?” Charlotte asked. “Did they come through with their support? I’m a little worried, because we’re scraping the bottom of the barrel just to get the wing finished.”

Trent looked into her sweet, earnest face before turning his attention to the verdant landscape—not nearly as vivid and riveting as the color of her eyes. “They’re a reputable organization.”

“That’s good to hear.” She sounded slightly breathless, her footsteps squishing quickly in the mud, and he slowed his stride. He resisted the urge to grasp her arm to make sure she didn’t slip and fall. “I heard they were, but they’re making us jump through some hoops to get it.”

He almost asked
what hoops?
, but decided to keep out of it. The last thing he wanted was to get involved with anything to do with the Gilchrist Foundation. Or for Charlotte to find out his connection to it. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure. So, this is it.” He looked up at the one-storey cement building painted a golden yellow, the windows and door trimmed in a brick color. “Looks like you’ve done a nice job restoring it.”

“It took a lot of money and manpower. It was basically a shell, with nothing left inside. The windows were gone and there were bullet holes everywhere. John Adams and I are pretty proud of how it turned out.”

As they reached the wooden door of the school he saw Charlotte glance up at the sky, now filling with dark-gray clouds. “Looks like rain’s coming, and I wasn’t smart enough to bring an umbrella. Sorry. We won’t stay too long.”

“I’m not made of sugar, you know. I won’t melt,” he teased. Then the thought of sugar made him think of her sweet lips and the taste of her skin. It took a serious effort to turn away, not to pull her close to take a taste.

They left their muddy shoes outside before she led the way in. Children dressed in white shirts with navy-blue pants or skirts streamed from classrooms, laughing and chattering.

“Mr. Trent!” Cute little Patience ran across the room, the only one in a sleeveless dress instead of a uniform. “Mr. Trent, you bring me candy?”

“Sorry, Miss Impatience, I don’t have any left.” She wrapped her arms around his leg and the crestfallen expression on her face made him wish he’d brought a whole lot more. Too bad he hadn’t known he’d be here longer than a few days.

“How about gum?”

He laughed and swung her up into his arms. “Don’t have any of that left either.” He lowered his voice. “But, next time you’re at the hospital, I’ll sneak some pudding out of the pantry for you, okay?”

“I heard that.” Charlotte’s brows lifted. “Since when are you two best friends? Dr Trent just got here a few days ago.”

“Mr. Trent and me are good friends, yes.” The girl’s arms tightened around his neck, which felt nice. Kids didn’t want or expect anything from you but love. And maybe candy too, he thought with a smile. There weren’t too many adults he could say that about.

“Patience and I share a fondness for that chocolate pudding.”

“Hmm.” A mock frown creased Charlotte’s face as she leaned close to them. “I didn’t know you were stealing supplies, Dr Dalton. I’m going to have to keep an eye on you.”

“What’s the punishment for stealing?” His gaze dropped from her amused eyes to her pink lips. Maybe if he stole a kiss he’d find out.

“I don’t think you want to know.” Her eyes were still smiling and he found himself riveted by the glow of gold and brown flecks deep within that beautiful green.

“Miss Edwards!” Several kids ran their way. “You coming to see our play this Wednesday? Please come, Miss Edwards!”

Charlotte wrapped her arms around their shoulders in hugs, one after another, talking and smiling, making it obvious she wasn’t a distant director around here; that she put in a lot of face time, truly cared about these kids. That impressed the hell out of him. He’d seen a lot of hospital directors in his day, even some in mission hospitals, who were more focused on the bottom line and making donors happy than they were about helping the patients they existed for.

Trent set Patience back on her feet. “Have you been doing any more drawing? You know I like to see your art.” Nodding enthusiastically, her short legs took off running back down a hall.

He watched Charlotte with the kids. He’d never worked at a mission hospital that included a school in its compound. He hadn’t been able to resist a chance to peek at it and see what they were accomplishing, even when he knew it wasn’t the best idea to spend much time with Charlotte.

The whole reason he’d come was to see the school children, but he found it impossible to pull his attention from the smiling woman talking to them. He’d teased her about picturing her naked, but the truth was he couldn’t get the vision of her out of his mind at all: clothed or unclothed, smiling and happy or ready to kick someone’s ass.

Damn it.

Time to get his mind on the whole reason he was here—to find out what the kids were learning and how the school helped them. Charlotte patted a few of the children and turned her attention to him.

“Is this where we’re going to eat?” he asked. The room was filled with folding tables that had seats attached, and some of the children were already sitting down.

“What, are you hungry? And you were making fun of me wanting lunch.”

He grinned at her teasing expression. Man, she was something. A fascinating mix of energy, passion and determination all mixed in with a sweet, soft femininity. “I haven’t eaten since five a.m. But I still wouldn’t knock someone over in a hallway in search of a meal.”

“As if I could knock you over, anyway.” She took the binder from him and gestured to the tables. “Find a seat. I’ll be right back.”

Standing here, looking at all the bright-eyed and happy kids, he was annoyed with himself. Why hadn’t it hadn’t ever occurred to him to donate some of his fortune to this kind of school? He’d focused on giving most of his anonymous donations to the kind of hospitals he worked in. To those that medically served the neediest of humans in the world.

But that was going to change to include helping with education—a whole other kind of poverty. Not having access to learning was every bit as bad as having no access to health care.

“Here’s my picture, Mr. Trent!” Patience ran up with a piece of construction paper crayoned with smiling children sitting at desks, one of them a lot bigger than the others.

“Who’s this student?” he asked, pointing at the large figure he suspected just might be a self-portrait of the artist.

“That’s me.” Patience gave him a huge smile. “I sit in class sometimes now. Miss Jones said I could.”

“I bet you’re really smart. You’ll be reading and writing in no time.” And to make that happen for a lot more kids, he’d be calling his financial manager pronto.

“Yes.” She nodded vigorously. “I go to read right now.”

She took off again and he chuckled at how cute she was, with her little dress and pigtails flying as she ran. He sat at one of the tables and saw the kids eyeing him, some shyly, others curious, a few bold enough to come close. Time for the tried and tested icebreaker. He pulled a pack of cards from his pocket and began to shuffle. “Anybody want to see a card trick?”

Faces lit, giggles began and a few children headed over, then more shoved their way in, until the table was full and the rest stood three-deep behind them.

“Okay.” He fanned the cards face down and held them out to a grinning little girl with braids all over her head. “Pick a card. Any card.” When she began to pull one out, he yanked the deck away. “Not that one!”

Startled, her grin faded and she stared at him.

“Just kidding.” He gave her a teasing smile to let her know it was all in fun, and she giggled in relief as the other children hooted and laughed. He held out the fanned deck again. “Pick a card. I won’t pull it away again, honest. Look at it, show it to a friend, but don’t let me see it. Then stick it back in the deck.”

The girl dutifully followed his directions. He did his sleight-of-hand shuffling before holding up a card. “Is this it?” He had to grin at how crestfallen they looked as they shook their heads. “Hmm. This it?”

“No, that’s not it.” She looked worried, like it would somehow be her fault if the trick didn’t work.

“Well, you know third time’s a charm, right?
This
is the one you picked.” He held up what he knew would be the card she’d chosen, and everyone shrieked and whooped like he’d pulled a rabbit from a hat or held up a pot of gold.

“How you do that, mister?” a boy asked, craning his neck at the card deck as though the answer was written there.

“Magic.” One of the best parts about doing the trick was showing the kids how to do it themselves. “How about we do it a few more times? Then I’ll teach you exactly how it’s done.”

* * *

Before Charlie and the teachers even got back to the common room, the sound of loud talking and laughter swept through the school’s hall. Mariam, the headmistress, pursed her lips and frowned. “I’m sorry, Miss Charlotte. I don’t know why they’re being so rowdy. I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s fine. They’re at lunch, after all.” Though she was pretty sure it hadn’t been served yet. Curious as to what was causing all the excitement, she walked into the room, only to stop in utter surprise at the scene.

Looking ridiculously large for it, Trent sat at a table completely surrounded by excited children, like some handsome Pied Piper. He was holding up cards, shuffling and flicking them, then handing them to kids who did the same, all the while talking and grinning. As she came farther into the room, she could hear the students bombarding him with questions that he patiently answered more than once.

She hadn’t seen this side of Trent before. Yes, she’d seen his gentle bedside manner with Lionel, his obvious caring for the boy. Still, she couldn’t help but be amazed at the connection she was witnessing. So many of the children in this school had been traumatized in one way or another and a number of them were orphaned. Yet, to watch this moment, you’d think none of them had a care in the world other than having a fun time with whatever Trent was sharing with them.

She moved closer to the table. “What’s going on here?”

One of the older boys waved some cards. “Mr. Trent is showing us card tricks, Miss Edwards! See me do one!”

“I’d love to.” Her eyes met Trent’s and her heart fluttered a little at the grin and wink he gave her. “But you should call him Dr Trent. He’s a physician working at the hospital for a few days.”

“Dr Trent?” Anna, a girl in the highest grade they could currently offer, looked from Charlie to Trent, her expression instantly serious. “You a doctor? My baby brother is very sick with the malaria. Mama Grand has been treating him, but we’re worried. Would you care if I go get him and bring him here for you to see?

“Can your mommy or grandmother bring him to the hospital?” Charlie asked.

Anna shook her head. “Mommy is away working in the rice fields. But I can get him and carry him there if that is better.”

“How old is he?” Charlie asked.

“Six years old, Ma.”

Charlie knew many of these kids walked miles to get to school, and didn’t want Anna hauling an ill six-year-old that kind of distance. Not to mention that she could hear rain now drumming hard on the roof of the school. “How about if I drive and get him? You can show me where you live.”

Trent stood. “It’s pouring outside. I’ll go back and get the car and pick you two up, then we’ll just see him at your home.”

Charlie pulled her keys from her pocket and headed for the door. “It’s okay, I’ll just...”

In two strides, Trent intercepted her and snagged the keys from her hand. “Will you just let someone else help once in a while? Please? I’ll be right back.”

Charlie watched as he ducked out of the doorway into the heavy rain, all too aware of the silly surge of pleasure she felt at the way he insisted on taking on this problem, never mind that she could handle it herself. Well, not the medical part; she was thankful he’d be able to contribute his expertise as well as the nurses and techs at the hospital.

Her car pulled up in no time and, before she and Anna could come out, Trent had jogged to the door with an open umbrella and ushered Anna into the backseat. Water slid down his temples and dripped from his black hair as he opened the passenger door for Charlie. “You’re riding shotgun this time, boss lady.”

“It’s my car. I know how to drive in this kind of weather.”

He made an impatient sound. “Please just get in and stop arguing.”

She opened her mouth to insist, but saw his set jaw and his intent blue eyes and found herself sliding into the seat, though why she let him tell her what to do she wasn’t sure. It must have something to do with the man’s overwhelming mojo.

She wasn’t surprised that he proved more than competent at the wheel, despite the deepening mud and low visibility through the torrential rain. Even in good weather, this thinning road was barely more than a track through the bush. It couldn’t really be called a road at all at the moment.

A group of crooked, heartbreakingly dilapidated zinc shacks appeared through the misty sheets of rain, and the distinctive smell of coal fires used for cooking touched Charlie’s nose.

“It’s up here. That one,” Anna said, pointing.

The car slid to a stop. “Sit tight for a sec,” Trent said. He again grabbed the umbrella and brought it to their side of the car before opening Charlie’s door.

“I’m not made of sugar, you know. I won’t melt,” Charlie said, repeating what he’d said to her earlier as she climbed out to stand next to him.

“You sure about that? I remember you tasting pretty sweet.” Beneath the umbrella, he was so close she could feel his warmth radiating against her skin. The smell of the rain, mud, coal fires and Trent’s own distinctive and appealing scent swirled around her in a sensory overload. His head dipped and those blue eyes of his met hers and held. She realized she was holding her breath, struck by a feeling of the two of them being completely alone in the world as the rain pounded a timpani concerto on the fabric above their heads.