His anger soared as more luggage was unloaded and placed on the asphalt. It had taken hours the previous day to clear rubble from what had once been the hospital car park to make a space safe enough for aircraft to fly in casualties and supplies. The arduous task definitely hadn’t been carried out so some spoiled reality television star had somewhere to dump the contents of her wardrobe.
The last thing he, and Astoria, needed was a person like her so whatever the hell reason she had for travelling to the earthquake stricken island, it’d be his pleasure to tell her to fly straight back where she came from.
Lucas ran a few bluer words around his head. The one he’d used three times in thirty seconds wasn’t coming anywhere near to touching the anger that now burned hotter than the sun above their heads.
“Are you in charge here?” her lightly accented English skittered along his nerves raising goose bumps despite the blistering heat.
The annoying, simpering voice he’d half expected didn’t materialise. Instead, she sounded a little husky and a lot sexy and alluring. Lucas didn’t care what she said next so long as he got an answer and she spoke to him again.
“Doctor Davenport.” He stuck out his hand—more out of habit than good manners.
She slipped her hand into his, giving a firm handshake. The nerve endings on his palms jolted to life. Lucas shoved the unwanted feelings down. For years he had controlled his every impulse because he’d learned early that acting impulsively was dangerous—not only to yourself, but to others caught up in your poor choices.
“I’m Frankie.” She smiled the zillion watt smile he’d seen countless times on his TV set on long, boring nights when channel surfing for something to numb the reality of his life. Instead he’d hit on the reality of other people’s lives—she embodied everything he hated about reality TV that the rest of the world seemed hopelessly addicted to.
Lucas knew all too well who and what she was. Frankie Hamilton had been born into the sort of world where money bought you anything you wanted. Despite all her privileges, she’d formed a relationship with the captain of the England football team, making them the most talked about celebrity couple since Posh and Becks.
If he’d been blessed with that kind of money, it would’ve been spent on so much more than clothes, shoes and private jets to far flung destinations where yet more cash was squandered on food, drink and being seen by the ‘right’ people.
“Frankie.” If he had better manners, he would tell her he was pleased to meet her and all the other social niceties, but all he could concentrate on was getting her out of there so the temporary airstrip was clear.
Aircraft carrying severely injured patients could be on their way at that very moment. Her being here was a mistake. No, he amended, it was a class-a pain in the arse. “Astoria has suffered an earthquake measuring 7 on the Richter scale. This is no place for designer clothes and high heels.”
Lucas swept an arm out to encompass the ridiculous quantity of luggage on the tarmac, the suitcases lined up like perfectly matched soldiers. The look of hurt passed across her face was gone so quickly he wasn’t sure he’d even seen it. He was tired. No, he was exhausted. He didn’t have time to play nice with a spoiled princess who was there for God-knew-what.
She pulled a bundle of papers out from her oversized handbag. Of course, it matched the rest of her luggage perfectly. “Here.” She shoved the documents into his hand. “I think you’ll find my credentials are in order.”
Lucas swiped a hand over his face, not caring whether his frustration was showing. His ten-minute break from the bedlam inside the hospital was completely ruined.
He probably needed longer than a ten-minute escape from the crushed limbs and broken bodies caused by the enormous, completely unexpected earthquake. Time, however, was a luxury that was in short supply after a major humanitarian crisis.
She was a qualified nurse? Lucas shook his head, eyed the documentation and looked back at Frankie. This couldn’t possibly be right. And yet she had all the necessary clearance from the aid charity he worked for. He didn’t even want to think about how she’d got that through so quickly.
“I’m not sure this is the best place for you to practice your … um … skills.” Lucas hated the uncertainty in his voice. Usually he cared much less about whether he was polite during disaster relief missions. There wasn’t really time to pretty his words up so he didn’t accidentally offend and the people he worked with were fine with that. They had more important things on their minds—like saving lives.
“It’s the perfect place,” she insisted. “If you can show me where I can store my things, I’ll get changed and you can tell me what you need me to do.”
“Go home.” Lucas turned and headed back towards the mangled wreck of what was left of Astoria’s main hospital. Half the building was gone and the half still standing, that they were working in, leaned precariously to one side.