They had both known Oz’s name would have been right up there with his if it hadn’t been for the fact that Oz needed to stay in London this winter, which was summer below the equator in Brazil.
The guy’s reputation as a playboy preceded him, but he was also one of the best neurosurgeons Jake had known. Work hard, play harder—that was Oz’s single rule for life, just as it had been his own up until ten months ago.
Right up until Brady had appeared in his life.
‘When does it start, next week?’ Oz had asked. And then, the killer question. ‘Did you know that Flávia Maura is scheduled to be talking on Paulista’s lecture programme?’
Even then, in that moment, something had kicked, sharp and unexpected, low in Jake’s gut. He’d tried valiantly to ignore it, but now he knew that had been nothing compared the maelstrom tumbling around inside him now.
‘You know who she is, don’t you?’ Oz had continued, oblivious. ‘She worked on the chlorotoxin you’re using in these trials for a while, though I read an article a few months ago that said she’s now switched to working on a venom from some species of bushmaster viper that might be able to break down cancer cells without damaging healthy cells. I’d have thought it would have been right up your street. Isn’t it a step on from this scorpion-venom-based toxin we’re using here?’
‘Yes, I know what it is,’ Jake had bitten out at length.
Just as he’d known who Flávia was.
And yet, he’d stayed silent. Oz had had other ideas.
‘So you’ve heard of this Flávia, then?’
There had been nothing else for it.
‘As it happens, I caught a lecture of hers by accident a little while ago.’
‘Really? Is she as wackadoodle as they say?’
There had been no reason for him to bristle on her behalf. No reason at all. And even now, half a world away from that OR and only metres away from Flávia, he felt...not protectiveness, obviously, but something...even more strongly.
‘She’s...quirky,’ he had admitted reluctantly.
‘Quirky? I guess that’s one word for it.’ Oz had snorted. ‘But then, I suppose you have to have something different about you to want to work with an animal, or whatever, that could kill you in a matter of hours. And that’s after it has induced vomiting and dizziness, severe internal bleeding and organs shutting down.’
‘She loves what she does.’ He had shrugged, remembering the passion in her voice as she’d talked about how important the snakes were, and how it was a shame that the only way she could save them from man was proving to man that the snakes could ultimately provide the key to curing cancer.
‘And she’s highly intelligent.’
‘Right.’
‘She’s hot, too. I’ve seen a photo. Hence hoping I’d be in Brazil for their summer programme.’
He hadn’t liked the way Oz had been eyeing him so astutely. His mate wasn’t stupid, and one wrong answer would have given the game away. Jake had known he needed to watch what he’d said next, especially with the anaesthesiologist pretending to be preoccupied and the scrub nurses hanging off their conversation. At least it was a team he trusted.
But still.
‘Didn’t particularly notice.’
It hadn’t been so much a lie, but more a whole tightening around his chest, as though the air was being squeezed out of his lungs. It was ridiculous, and yet he hadn’t seemed able to stop it; this woman—this stranger—had such an effect on him.
The effect her presence was having on him even now.
Him.
Jake Cooper. Bowled over by a woman he hadn’t even spoken to. Bowled over by any woman, full stop. It just didn’t happen.
‘Really?’ Oz had looked sceptical. ‘I’d have thought she’d have been just your type.’
‘I didn’t know I had a type.’
‘Smart, stunning and single-minded when it comes to career? You’ve got a type, all right.’