About That Night.... Scarlet Wilson

      It landed with a thump at her feet. “What on earth have you got in here? Did you pack the entire contents of your apartment? I’ve never seen a suitcase that size in my life. As for the weight, how on earth did you get it down your stairs?”

      She watched as he pulled another suitcase—this time with one hand—from the carousel. It was a medium-sized navy blue case. She couldn’t help the smile that flickered across her lips.

      She tilted her head up at him. “Oh, so now you’re talking to me, are you?” She pulled the handle up on the side of her case and tilted it onto its wheels. The initial tug was tough but once the case picked up a little momentum, it sailed along behind her.

      “Do you remember the name of the person we’re meeting?” She walked in the direction of the exit.

      Evan was matching her stride for stride, holding his case easily in his hand—he had no need for wheels. He pulled a piece of paper from his top pocket. “Someone called Amos should be waiting for us outside Arrivals with a car. They said under no circumstances should we get in a local taxi.” His eyes fell on her suitcase again. “Though at this rate we’ll probably need an eighteen-wheeler to move that. What do you have in there?”

      Violet rolled her eyes. “Just everything a girl could need. Hold up a sec,” she said, as one of the customs officers gestured toward her.

      Two hours later they finally made it to the exit.

      “Of all the ridiculous, over-packed, stupid items to have in your suitcase—”

      “Oh, drop it, Evan. I’m too hot and tired to listen to your whining.” She nodded in the direction of a man with a board showing their names in his hand. He looked as if he was wilting.

      “Hi,” she said. “Amos? I’m Violet Connelly and this is Evan Hunter. Sorry we took so long.”

      The man’s brow furrowed. “Was there a problem with the officials? I hope not.”

      Evan let out a snort. “The only problems were the ones that she caused. Probably by trying to transport the equivalent of an elephant in her luggage.”

      “An elephant? I don’t understand.”

      Violet placed her hand over his. “Dr. Hunter is being sarcastic. The officials searched my luggage and removed certain items.”

      “Items? What items?”

      Violet shook her head. “Nothing important. Some U.S. candy. Some electrical items. Nothing I can’t live without.”

      Evan was obviously becoming impatient. The two-hour-long inspection of Violet’s luggage must have been the final straw for him. “Do you have a car?”

      Amos nodded. “The minibus is parked outside. I’ll take you to the Healthy World Federation building and give you some safety instructions. Stay next to me, please, as we leave the building. Some of the local taxis will try and encourage you to go with them.”

      He grabbed hold of the handle of Violet’s case and stopped dead, obviously unprepared for the weight. He struggled to give her a smile as he dragged it along behind him. Within a few minutes they were outside the terminal building and were immediately accosted by a whole host of taxi drivers.

      “Stay close!” shouted Amos as they pushed their way through. Evan’s hand appeared from nowhere and rested gently at her waist, guiding her through the shouting faces until they reached the car park.

      “How far to the city?”

      The long flight, followed by the search at customs, had taken their toll. Violet was ready to collapse in a heap. “Around fifty minutes. We’re just going to the outskirts. It’s a relatively safe area. Don’t worry.”

      He opened the back door of the minibus and nodded to Evan. “Give us a hand with this, please.” Evan grabbed the other side of the case and between them they tossed it into the back of the minivan. Maybe a big suitcase hadn’t been such a good idea after all. But at the time she’d been packing everything had seemed like an essential.

      The journey flew past. Violet could barely keep her eyes open as they sped through the city suburbs. It was immediately apparent that poverty was an issue—just like in so many other cities throughout the world.

      She felt a sharp nudge on the ribs. “Wake up, Violet, we’re here.”

      Her eyes shot open. When had she fallen asleep? The last thing she remembered was staring out the window at a group of children playing football in the street.

      Somehow she’d fallen asleep with her head on Evan’s shoulder, and the heat from his body in the air-conditioned van had been comforting. She pulled herself up straight and rubbed at her cheek. Great. She could feel the creases of his shirt embedded in her face.

      She looked out the window as Amos opened the door and let the heat flood inside again.

      She’d had a little handheld, battery-powered fan in her suitcase. Too bad she hadn’t thought to put it in her hand luggage.

      She jumped down onto the street and immediately pulled her sunglasses down from her forehead. She glanced at her watch. It was still set to Atlanta time. Lagos was only five hours ahead, but the jump between time zones had totally disorientated her. It felt as if it should be the middle of the night.

      Amos hauled her case up the front steps of the building and pushed open the glass doors. Air-conditioning again. Bliss.

      A woman in traditional dress met them at reception. “Dr. Hunter? Dr. Connelly? Welcome to headquarters.” She gestured toward the rear of the building. “If you want to head to the lifts, I’ll give you a key to your rooms. You’ll have a chance to freshen up, but we need you back down here later to meet the members of your team and have a safety briefing.”

      “No problem.” Evan obviously wasn’t suffering from the same travel effects that she was. Right now she just wanted to lie down on some cool cotton sheets.

      Evan glanced at the number of the key and pocketed it. Both of them stood for a few more seconds, waiting for the second key to appear.

      It didn’t.

      The lady looked back up. “Oh, didn’t someone explain? We’re a little short of space. You’ll be bunking up together. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

      Her manner was so relaxed it almost disarmed Violet. What Violet really wanted to do was scream and shout and stamp her feet on the floor. Her patience and fatigue was at an all-time low.

      “No problem at all.” Evan’s cool voice cut through the strop she was currently throwing in her head and he headed off toward the lift.

      She bit her tongue and tugged her case after him, struggling to pull it over the seam between the floor and elevator door. Evan’s hand slid over hers and he gave it a final tug, sending her hurtling backward into the lift. She landed against the back wall with a thud.

      “Thanks.” She couldn’t hide her sarcastic tone and wasn’t even going to try.

      “My pleasure.” She could hear the edge of amusement in his voice and she really wasn’t in the mood at all.

      He pressed a button and the elevator slid smoothly upward, opening onto a brightly lit corridor with a procession of identical brown doors.

      “Can you manage?”

      “Of course.” She tugged her case with both hands, smiling as his foot came into contact with one of the wheels. It really did feel as if she had a dead body inside.

      He flinched. “We’re in here.” He slid the card into the door and pushed it open, revealing a regular-sized room with a large white bed.

      One large white bed.

      Silence.

      Who would react first?

      It was Violet. It was the final straw.

      “You