TEMPTED BY HER BOSS (12 page)

His hand moved in one movement from outside of her bikini bottom to the inside, cupping the bare skin of her backside. No one was close enough to see a thing, and even if they had been, the ocean was covering the lower halves of their bodies.

Her fingers were gliding across his back, pulling him even closer as they were buffeted by the waves. Then they changed direction, following his lead downwards. The movement made his stomach muscles twitch as they skirted past the hairs on his lower abdomen and headed even lower. They skirted around the edges of his shorts, tentatively making their way beneath.

Suddenly this seemed like a much more private party.

He let out a growl and pulled back. Her eyes widened at his release and the water swept between them. He lifted his feet from the sea bed, leaning back a little and letting the water take his weight. Grace was breathing heavily, trying to compose herself after what had just happened. Donovan was hoping the cool water would soothe the fire in his groin. Thank goodness for baggy running shorts. Leaving the water could give someone an eyeful.

Her breathing started to slow. He could see the hesitation flickering in her eyes. There it was again. That doubt.

Why did she think he’d stopped? He’d had to. They were on a public beach. It was the first time he’d touched her. The time in the DPA shower had been entirely different. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing here. He’d never made a move on a colleague before.

Relationships in the DPA had consequences.

He moved in the water, catching her hand in his. ‘Grace? We’re out in the open. Anyone could see us.’

‘I know.’ Her voice was quiet. She straightened as her feet connected with the sea bed again and she took a couple of steps closer to the shore. Her eyes were averted, focusing on the motel next to the beach. ‘This wasn’t meant to happen.’

The words jolted him from the current euphoria his body was feeling. It was one thing for him to have doubts about what he was doing. It was another for Grace. Was he really that arrogant? He planted his feet down. A wave of disquiet started to crowd his senses. Maybe he’d misread this situation completely. ‘What do you mean?’

Her voice had the tiniest tremble, but her tone was determined. ‘I mean that you’re my boss. This is my first assignment.’

She was saying the words, but the conviction in her eyes just wasn’t there. His head started to swim. What was he doing? Law suits and legal terms started to circulate in his brain. Would Grace claim some kind of harassment? The cool breeze prickled his skin, every hair on his arms standing on end. He had no idea how to play this. He’d never been involved with someone at work before. Had never wanted to cross that line. Maybe this was why.

‘Are you trying to deny what’s happening between us, Grace? Tell me I’m not imagining this. Tell me I’m not reading this wrong.’ He was feeling panicked. Was all of this in his head? He’d never had any problems reading signals from the opposite sex before. The thought that he’d misread Grace was alarming in more ways than one.

But Grace shook her head. There was a sheen in her eyes. Was she going to cry?

He reached over before he could stop himself, putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘Then what is it, Grace? Tell me what’s wrong.’

He could see her gulp, licking her lips and flinching from the taste of salt that must be on them. The tremble in her voice had increased. ‘Go online, Donovan. Read Twitter. See what my colleagues have to say about me.’ She pressed her hand to her chest. ‘I want people to think I earned my place on the team not by getting naked with the boss. I want to be here because I deserve to be here. Not because you’ve decided I’m flavour of the month.’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’ She was moving away. Striding back towards the shoreline.

He couldn’t figure out what was going on here. One minute she had been kissing him like her life depended on it, the next she’d been looking at him as if he’d just crossed some unspeakable line. Which he had. And which he didn’t want to think about.

The semantics of should he/shouldn’t he kiss a team member couldn’t even figure in his brain right now. What was front and centre was the way Grace had just looked at him. As if she’d been disgusted with both him and herself. As if they’d just done something terrible.

That was the expression that was going to keep him awake tonight.

‘Grace! Come back. Talk to me.’ His voice verged on desperation. He almost didn’t recognise the sound. None of this was familiar to him.

But his words fell on deaf ears. Her strides were becoming longer as she neared the shore and the pull of the water lessened.

Should he go after her?

If she’d been wearing anything else when she’d come down here it was clear she was abandoning it. As she hit the beach she didn’t stop, walking as swiftly as possible across the sand and back to the motel.

He had a clear view of her body, but his eyes were drawn to the ragged scar on her shoulder. In this fading light it stood out angry and red. A clear reminder of something that had happened in Grace’s past. Something he didn’t know about. Something he wanted to ask her about.

Every bone in his body wanted to go after her. But every brain cell told him not to.

He had to stop. He had to think this through. What on earth did she mean about Twitter—and why would that have any impact on what was happening between them?

Donovan couldn’t remember the last time he’d logged onto his account. Social media wasn’t really his thing. He liked the internet, he liked the opportunity of access to information and facts whenever he needed it. But did he really want to know what someone else had for dinner? No. Not at all.

A wave rolled over his head and shoulders, pushing him towards the shore. The momentum gave him some motivation to move. Slowly.

It would be so easy to power up the beach after her. But Donovan was normally known for his self-control. The incident with the gun had proved that. He walked out of the water, grabbing his vest in his hands and checking his phone.

No messages. No calls from Callum.

He was about to look away when he remembered the app. He clicked on the Twitter button. The last time he’d looked had been thirty-five days ago. Showed how often he paid attention to it.

The phone almost shook in protest and the data downloaded. He started scrolling, letting his still-wet fingers drip water onto the screen. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

He followed a number of colleagues at work, some national Twitter feeds about public health, and some official organisations. His feed wasn’t exactly overrun with celebrity small talk.

Then his finger froze and he squinted at the screen. He expanded the words with his fingers. No way. Frank Parker. That little no-good stinking rat.

Donovan had never liked him. Too cocky. Too confident. That would be fine if he had the kudos to go along with it. But he didn’t. Donovan had picked him up a few times on clinical errors and not following protocols.

He could feel the heat surge into his cheeks. Fury building in his chest. He’d kill him. He’d kill him and drag his body off to some dark forest somewhere.

He could hide a body. He could do that. He’d watched
CSI
enough times to know about forensic evidence. Or maybe he could poison the creep. Better still, he could just wring his neck with his bare hands.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt rage like this.

He stopped on the sand, hand on his hip, and took a few deep breaths, trying to still the fury and uncontrollable thoughts. No wonder Grace was upset. No wonder the last thing she wanted to be seen doing was kissing the boss.

The implications were clear.

But Frank Parker couldn’t be more wrong if he’d tried. He and Grace had never had a conversation before the incident. They had no relationship. And Grace was incapable of anything he’d accused her of.

As for the implied slur on him—that he’d selected Grace for anything other than her expertise—that did make him mad.

The caveman urges started to dissipate and the DPA team leader’s mind started to reappear. This was unprofessional conduct without a shadow of a doubt. A phone call to the director was called for. His legs started covering the beach in long strides.

He had worked hard for this position. He wasn’t about to let some trouble-making colleague call his professionalism into question.

Yes. He had given Grace the job without application or interview, but that wasn’t unusual in the DPA. As soon as a team member revealed she was pregnant she was immediately pulled from fieldwork. It was a necessity.

If it had been a few weeks before the team was called out again, he would have time to interview from the pool of potential candidates already within the DPA. Their recruitment for fieldwork teams was always done internally.

But because they had been called out straight away he’d had to make the decision to select a new team member or leave with a member down. People had been recruited like this before. Grace had impressed him with her knowledge and expertise. She was ready. She was ready for a fieldwork assignment.

Frank Parker was not. His skills were best suited to the lab.

His phone buzzed. A text. From Callum Ferguson.

Just heard about the social media debacle. Frank Parker will never have a place on my team or yours. Tell Grace I think she’s done a stellar job so far. As for you, keep calm. The damage is done. Talk to the Director. Tell him if Frank Parker is still in the office when I return I’ll deal with him myself.

A smile spread across his face. It wasn’t just him that was about to blow a gasket. There was reassurance from the Granddad of Disease that he thought Frank’s actions were inappropriate too. The big Scotsman always spoke his mind and took no prisoners. Donovan shook his head. He would speak to the director. And he would pass on Callum’s warning. Neither he, nor the director, would want to see Callum’s reaction.

He scrolled down for the number of the director’s PA. The phone answered after two rings. ‘DPA, Director Kane’s office.’

‘Julie? It’s Donovan Reid. Can I speak to the director?’

There was a long pause. ‘Yes, Donovan. We were expecting your call. Unfortunately Director Kane is unavailable.’

‘I need to talk to him as soon as possible.’

He could almost hear the smile in her voice. ‘He’s dealing with a member of staff who is being transferred to another office immediately. I’m doing the paperwork now.’

Donovan pulled back his shoulders. The inference was there. ‘Is it who I think it is?’

Julie cleared her throat, ‘Let’s just say the same individual will have a permanent note regarding unprofessional conduct and bringing the organisation into disrepute on their file.’

‘I don’t need to call back, do I, Julie?’

‘I wouldn’t think so. The director is keen for his fieldwork teams to be able to concentrate on the job in hand.’

‘No problem.’ He cut the call. It was strange what a surge of pleasure he felt at hearing those few words. Someone had obviously alerted the director to the comment in the social media and he’d acted immediately. Just the way he should.

He reached the entrance to the motel. He had to let Grace know things had been dealt with. She didn’t need to think about Frank Parker’s comments. She didn’t need to think about what had just happened on the beach. She could just concentrate on being Grace Barclay, doctor on her first fieldwork assignment.

He was outside her door a few moments later, his hand hesitating for a second before he knocked on the door. He had to keep this professional. He had to keep this above board.

He stood in silence for a few moments. Was Grace not going to answer the door? Maybe she’d looked through the peephole and decided not to answer? He didn’t even want to admit how much those thoughts bothered him. How very uncomfortable they made him.

The door inched open, Grace’s face appearing in the narrow gap. Her hair was bundled up on her head and one of the thin motel towels was wrapped around her body.

‘You braved the ice-cold shower?’ He said the first thing that came to mind and wanted to grab the words back as soon as he’d said them. Of course she’d had a shower. Anything to cool the heat that had been in their bodies.

She adjusted the towel, trying to cover her boobs a little more. ‘I didn’t have much choice.’ She said the words quietly. ‘What do you want, Donovan?’

He glanced over his shoulder. He really didn’t want to have this conversation in the corridor. ‘Can I come in?’ When her face didn’t change he added, ‘It’s about work.’

It felt strange, having to talk his way into a woman’s room. He’d never had to do that in his life before. He’d never wanted to do it before. But this was different. This was important.

She gave a brief nod then opened the door, allowing him to edge inside.

The room felt oppressive. Dark and closed in. He almost didn’t want her to close the door behind him. He was conscious of how close he was to her and kept his arms firmly by his sides. Resisting the urge to reach out and touch her.

‘Grace, I called the office.’

Her eyes were huge in the dim room. Her pupils dark and wide. She was biting her bottom lip, obviously nervous. ‘What did they say?’

‘I didn’t even get to speak to the director. I suspect he had Frank in his office and was tearing a few strips off him. He’s being transferred to another office.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Really? Just like that?’ She took a few seconds then stared down at the floor. Her voice was quiet. ‘All because of one tweet?’

‘Don’t you dare feel sorry for him, Grace.’ He kept his voice low. He hated the way she looked right now. Hated it that she’d been hurt. Grace had no idea what people really thought of her. Her confidence had been shattered by Frank Parker’s one selfish act. He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it out towards her. ‘Read this.’

‘What is it?’ Her hand reached out hesitantly before she took the phone and pressed the button to light up the screen. It only took her a few seconds to read the message. Her hand came up to her mouth. ‘Oh. Wow. Callum Ferguson said that about me?’