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“Come for
me, Mariette.”
    Mariette?
    Alana stumbled out of bed and stared in revulsion at the man
lying there.
    Who the hell was Mariette? She raked a shaky hand through
her hair and glared at the man who slept soundly in her bed. He was out cold
and she was ready to detonate. She’d allowed a stranger in her bed, under her
clothes, and she’d been ready to take what he offered. In delirium. To top it
off, he’d called her by another woman’s name. If that didn’t make her the
world’s biggest fool, she didn’t know what did.
    God, what was wrong with her?
    She smoothed down her shirt and walked across the room so
she could splash warm water on her face, using the moment to collect herself.
    After drying with a towel, she straightened and drew in a
slow, deep breath. How had she let things get so out of control so fast?
Impulses had never been something she gave in to. She’d never been so consumed
with lust that she’d given herself to a stranger.
    A stranger who didn’t know what he was doing.
    Mentally berating herself, Alana pushed away from the table
and after a glance at her patient, slipped out the door and sat on the step.
The night air cooled her skin, cleansed her troubled soul.
    The communal bonfire had burned down as it did every night.
It crackled and popped in the distance, serving as heat, light, and a deterrent
to predators. Only the animals of the night were up, and they no longer scared
her. At least they killed for a reason. There were worse things in the jungle
than wild animals.
    She dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her temples.
She’d almost made a big mistake tonight. One she couldn’t make again. For some
reason she was vulnerable with Cristian. And for that reason she could never
tell him what they’d almost done and the power he had over her.
    Another secret she would take to her grave.
     
     

Chapter 4
     
    “You need some rest, let me sit with him.”
    Alana shook her head at her father. She placed a fresh, cool
washcloth on her patient’s forehead. Guilt had prevented more than a couple
hours of sleep. What she’d done, allowed Cristian to do, was unacceptable.
Morally. Ethically. Personally. If they’d been in the States, she’d have her
license revoked and be brought up on charges. What had she been thinking,
allowing a patient to touch her like that?
    A patient associated with Gavin Ross.
    “I’m okay, Dad. You’re busy. I can handle this.”
    “You haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours. You need to
recover from your injuries the same as he does.” His gaze dropped to her neck.
    Alana rubbed a hand over her sore throat. Actually, it had
been almost thirty hours, but she wouldn’t tell him that. He worried too much
already.
    “I caught a couple hours last night.”
    Her father’s hand landed lightly on her shoulder. A
surgeon’s hand, only now it lacked the strength it once had. “I know you,
Alana. You’ll forget your own health for another’s. Please, let me take over
for an hour while you go clean up. I won’t use any needles on him.”
    The offer appealed. She could use a trip to the waterfall
and a pair of clean clothes, but she didn’t trust her patient to behave. Her
father wasn’t the man he used to be, his body frail and weakened. Cristian
could really harm her father, and she wouldn’t take that chance.
    He had been restless all night, mumbling about contracts and
names of people she couldn’t pronounce in languages she had never heard.
Mariette’s name came up a time or two, along with tender words whispered in
French. She hadn’t expected anything gentle or tender to come from him. The
fact that a small streak of jealousy shot through her at the mention of his
lover only made the situation worse.
    She must be tired, to be jealous over a woman she’d never
met and a man who’d tried to strangle her. It was irrational and ridiculous and
driving her slowly crazy. Add raging hormones from last night’s interlude, and
she was a