Read Online Finding Dani (Once a Marine, Always a Marine Book 3) by Kori David - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kori David
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his arm a quick kiss.
He smiled down at her, “Thanks for kissing it better, Red. It barely hurts anymore.”
“I’m running back to my tent to drop this off. Dani, meet me in the infirmary. Damon, I need you to find out where the hell Dani’s team has been today and yesterday.” Gunner snapped the case closed and spun the numbers in the lock.
“I’m on it,” Damon said, as Gunner disappeared. Then he turned back to Dani. “You and I aren’t done with our discussion.”
Dani knew he was talking about the kiss and what she’d said before Gunner came barging in. But it all came down to her being lonely. She was a woman in her prime and she missed having that special someone in her life. She missed sex. But she didn’t want Damon to be a stand in for his dead twin. That would be wrong. And she couldn’t use him that way.
“I just can’t Damon, that’s all.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss, Dani. The one we shared before you got married. The one that damned near melted my mama’s wallpaper right off the walls. I wasn’t a stand in, and you know it.”
Then he left and she was alone. As much as she tried to deny it to herself over the years, what he said was true. She had known. Oh, it had started out a mistake that was helped by a dark room and a little too much champagne. But she’d known. And had dared to taste the wilder Dupree.
Now she was afraid. Afraid she’d become addicted. And she knew she’d never survive loss like that again.
Chapter 9
The atmosphere inside the infirmary was one of focused attention and consternation. Dani heard one of the nurses asking how Ebola could have been missed and whose ass was going to get chewed out for that mistake.
“Dr. Bordeaux, I’m glad you’re here,” Dr. Montgomery Nelson said. “I need a consult on these symptoms.”
“Please, call me Dani,” she said. She was already suited up, including mask and gloves, since they had made a special area outside the tent with those supplies once they realized that one of the patients had Ebola. No one would enter this building without precautions.
“This patient came in one week ago with a severe head injury. He had a slight infection due to the trauma, but nothing else. Now, he suddenly, inexplicably, has the virus.”
“And there is something unusual about the symptoms?”
Monty shot her a quick look. “What, are you psychic now, too?”
“No, but I have a theory and that could be a huge problem for us. Let me examine the patient and take some samples.”
She could tell Monty wanted some answers, but was professional enough to wait and let her do the exam. “Dr. Halverson is already taking samples now.”
They weaved around tables and cots to an area that was cordoned off with some industrial strength plastic that was opaque enough to obscure whatever it shielded. The strong odor of disinfectant permeated the air. This was a sterile place that would be cleaned even more regularly due to the threat of spreading the deadly disease.
“Perfect,” she said.
The patient was a man in his middle thirties. Monty rattled off the stats he had, including the fact that he’d not regained consciousness since he’d been brought in. A bright white gauze bandage covered his head, contrasting brightly with his deep black skin. Monitors were on his fingers and chest, and an IV had been inserted in the top of his left hand.
Gunner was drawing several vials of blood, similarly garbed in the white biohazard suit, large goggles and mask in place. “His fever is already at one hundred and four. And if you move the sheet, he has recent skin lesions on his stomach and thighs.”
“It’s moving fast,” she murmured. Moving the sheet, she saw the lesions. Replacing the cover, she moved to his head and opened one eye.
Blood seeped from the corner and the entire eye was bloodshot, pupils barely contracting in her pen light. It could only be day two, and yesterday would have been the only day
He smiled down at her, “Thanks for kissing it better, Red. It barely hurts anymore.”
“I’m running back to my tent to drop this off. Dani, meet me in the infirmary. Damon, I need you to find out where the hell Dani’s team has been today and yesterday.” Gunner snapped the case closed and spun the numbers in the lock.
“I’m on it,” Damon said, as Gunner disappeared. Then he turned back to Dani. “You and I aren’t done with our discussion.”
Dani knew he was talking about the kiss and what she’d said before Gunner came barging in. But it all came down to her being lonely. She was a woman in her prime and she missed having that special someone in her life. She missed sex. But she didn’t want Damon to be a stand in for his dead twin. That would be wrong. And she couldn’t use him that way.
“I just can’t Damon, that’s all.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss, Dani. The one we shared before you got married. The one that damned near melted my mama’s wallpaper right off the walls. I wasn’t a stand in, and you know it.”
Then he left and she was alone. As much as she tried to deny it to herself over the years, what he said was true. She had known. Oh, it had started out a mistake that was helped by a dark room and a little too much champagne. But she’d known. And had dared to taste the wilder Dupree.
Now she was afraid. Afraid she’d become addicted. And she knew she’d never survive loss like that again.
Chapter 9
The atmosphere inside the infirmary was one of focused attention and consternation. Dani heard one of the nurses asking how Ebola could have been missed and whose ass was going to get chewed out for that mistake.
“Dr. Bordeaux, I’m glad you’re here,” Dr. Montgomery Nelson said. “I need a consult on these symptoms.”
“Please, call me Dani,” she said. She was already suited up, including mask and gloves, since they had made a special area outside the tent with those supplies once they realized that one of the patients had Ebola. No one would enter this building without precautions.
“This patient came in one week ago with a severe head injury. He had a slight infection due to the trauma, but nothing else. Now, he suddenly, inexplicably, has the virus.”
“And there is something unusual about the symptoms?”
Monty shot her a quick look. “What, are you psychic now, too?”
“No, but I have a theory and that could be a huge problem for us. Let me examine the patient and take some samples.”
She could tell Monty wanted some answers, but was professional enough to wait and let her do the exam. “Dr. Halverson is already taking samples now.”
They weaved around tables and cots to an area that was cordoned off with some industrial strength plastic that was opaque enough to obscure whatever it shielded. The strong odor of disinfectant permeated the air. This was a sterile place that would be cleaned even more regularly due to the threat of spreading the deadly disease.
“Perfect,” she said.
The patient was a man in his middle thirties. Monty rattled off the stats he had, including the fact that he’d not regained consciousness since he’d been brought in. A bright white gauze bandage covered his head, contrasting brightly with his deep black skin. Monitors were on his fingers and chest, and an IV had been inserted in the top of his left hand.
Gunner was drawing several vials of blood, similarly garbed in the white biohazard suit, large goggles and mask in place. “His fever is already at one hundred and four. And if you move the sheet, he has recent skin lesions on his stomach and thighs.”
“It’s moving fast,” she murmured. Moving the sheet, she saw the lesions. Replacing the cover, she moved to his head and opened one eye.
Blood seeped from the corner and the entire eye was bloodshot, pupils barely contracting in her pen light. It could only be day two, and yesterday would have been the only day
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