Noble Hearts (Wild Hearts Romance Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

comfortable hands.
    It occurred to me I hadn’t had to instruct her in any of this. Under the circumstances, she did exactly what I would have done, as competently as I would have done it. As competently as any medic in the field would have acted.
    With a safety pin she found in a kitchen drawer, she pinned the bandaging in place, then backed off a step to eye it over. I got the feeling it wasn’t just the bandaging she was inspecting.
    I responded as any red-blooded American male would. By rolling back my shoulders, lifting my chest and sucking in my gut. It was with some pride I noted I didn’t have much to suck.
    Nodding her satisfaction, Kayla turned to cleaning up the table. With the sixth sense only a mother could possess, she produced a ball from who knows where and bounced it across the table just as Jengo reached an inquisitive hand toward the bottle of Percocet . Kayla swept the meds into her own hand as the little gorilla hand chased the ball instead.
    Without missing a beat, she dropped another treat into the dog’s waiting jaws, sat down beside me, and snapped off a bite-sized piece of a king-sized candy bar for the gorilla before handing me the rest. Nick-of-time sugar to boost my flagging insulin levels.
    “You can crash in the guestroom,” she said. “Gus will let us know if anyone comes around who shouldn’t be here.”
    “Why are you doing this—for me?”
    She looked at me as if she thought the meds or the pain was making me talk like a crazy man. “Why wouldn’t I?”
    I could think of a dozen personal-safety reasons off the top of my head.
    “Besides”—her mouth quirked in an utterly charming way—“I think you look pretty stunning too.”

CHAPTER 5

KAYLA
     
    As a matter of fact, the doctor did look stunning—high cheekbones, five o’clock shadow and cinnamon-dark eyes coupled with a body that was muscular but not so full of definition as to be overplayed. I wondered if he had scars or hidden tattoos, and I caught my imagination wandering toward places it had no business being. I knew nothing of this man, and in all likelihood would know little more of him before he left. His people would be missing him and arranging to bring him back.
    The breep of my phone startled us both.
    The display flashed Sefu , one of the plantation workers. “ Habari ya mchana .” The customary greeting, though, somehow rang hollow today.
    “ Habari, jumbe, ” he returned the greeting, dismissively but politely as most of the tribesmen were taught by their mothers. Calling me boss now came hard for some still. “Jamal says his wife is ill. That a doctor thinks it is the new sickness that comes from Sudan. Is it true?”
    “Is Jamal given to telling untruths?”
    “Of course not, jumbe . But I did not know there was a doctor here.”
    I looked at Mark. “He’s an…unexpected…visitor.”
    Sefu took a moment to absorb that. “But if it is true about Jamal’s wife—”
    “Lisha,” I cut in. He knew her name and I would insist he use it.
    “—Lisha,” he repeated impatiently, and I recognized perhaps now was not the best time to instruct a Bemba tribesmen on the equality of women, “then we are all at risk. There is talk, too, of civil war. Secret radio messages and secret texts. My brother is with the Congolese army. He is coming here tomorrow to take me, my wife and the mtoto to Bukavu in South Kivu.”
    “You’re leaving?” I didn’t expect that.
    “ Nydio, jumbe . Tomorrow.”
    “Will you be back?”
    There was a long moment of silence. “Only if the world should change.”
    “I wish it was already changed.” I sighed. “Come by if you need anything before you go. I will see you get it.”
    “ Asante ,” he thanked me. “But to go south is what my family needs most right now.”
    “I understand. But I still want to help if I can.”
    “I will sleep on it. Kwaheri .”
    “ Kwaheri .” That goodbye wasn’t supposed to feel like forever.
    Mark and I exchanged a look as I