The Doctor's One Night to Remember

Maybe. One day.

And Nikhil wasn’t the only one who had changed this past month. How many times had she caught herself thinking and feeling differently? How many times had she felt wild, and daring, just because of the way this one, wonderful man affected her?

She was growing; she could sense it. She just wasn’t quite sure what it meant yet.

But, either way, perhaps it wasn’t such a shock that the new marriage made her latest patient feel as though he was invincible—even where shellfish were concerned. Taking the stairs two at a time, she raced to the main restaurant. Hopefully, he would have his allergy pen on him and his new wife would have administered it.

She might have known it wouldn’t happen. Even by the time she’d elbowed her way through the rubber-necking crowd, the patient was deteriorating rapidly. His face had swollen up at least twice its usual size, contorted and red, and threatening his airway with every passing second. His breathing was already shallow and rasping, and even the guy’s hands were swollen where he’d picked up the offending item.

His wife was evidently so distraught that it took Isla several moments to calm her down enough to discover that her husband’s name was Stewart.

Clearing a space around her patient, Isla picked out an epinephrine injector from her bag and prepared to administer the medication, talking to where the eyes should have been on Stewart’s distorted face. She was only glad that it was a lunchtime and the man was wearing shorts.

It was fortunate that, just as she finished, Lisa arrived with antihistamines and an oxygen mask, the mobile gurney not far behind.

‘Let’s get you to the medical centre, Stewart.’ Isla smiled at her patient, wondering if he could even see her. He seemed to be able to, but it was still too hard to tell. This was always the worst part, trying to deal with a frightened patient and equally frightened loved one when a hundred or more people were crowding around, trying to get a good view of the action.

It was several hours before Isla finally finished up the last of her paperwork, handed it to Gerd, who was on duty for the night, and slipped out of the medical centre.

Quickly and quietly, she hurried through the ship, grateful for the l

ate hour if only because it made it easier to sneak to Nikhil’s room without being seen. Not that the past couple of weeks hadn’t been just a little bit thrilling, sneaking around the ship, snatching as many precious nights together as they could without anyone realising what was going on.

Not that they got that many between his work and hers, but in a way that only made them feel that much more delicious.

Some feat on a ship like this, and for Isla, who’d never done anything remotely illicit like this before, it was impossible not to get a bit of a kick from it.

No doubt it helped that the only two people who might possibly notice that something was amiss were either in some secret location with the other Dara brother...or holed up with the Captain on his downtime.

Ironic, really. Isla stifled a gurgle of laugher.

She had slipped inside Nikhil’s cabin when he was there, and he was drawing her into his arms and to him.

‘I wasn’t sure if you’d still be on the bridge,’ she breathed between scorching, devilish kisses.

‘I got back here a few minutes before you did,’ he muttered. ‘I heard about the drama with the seafood roulette player. He’s okay?’

‘He’s okay,’ she confirmed, her fingers making their way to his waist to tug his already half-undone shirt out of the trouser band.

‘Anything I need to know?’

‘Nothing that can’t wait for the report in the morning,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘Good,’ he approved, pulling her up to wrap her legs around his waist and carry her across the room to drop her—both of them laughing like intoxicated teens on their first night out—onto the bed.

* * *

Isla was just finishing in the shower an hour or so later when she heard a soft knock on Nikhil’s cabin door and the low exchange of voices. She paused, trying to stay quiet and discreet and not really trying to listen. Not that it mattered; the voices were too low for her to hear what was being said.

Waiting for the sound of the door closing, Isla wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out of the bathroom. She schooled herself to stay silent, torn between the fact that this was Nikhil’s cabin and it was therefore likely to be ship’s business, and sheer curiosity over what such a late-night call had been about.

But when she rounded the corner to see Nikhil standing, his face a shade of white to match the towel slung loosely around his hips, she didn’t stop to think.

‘What’s wrong, Nikhil? What’s happened?’

His eyes slid to her, but she had the strangest impression that he wasn’t really seeing her. A moment later, he seemed to refocus.

‘It’s nothing.’.