She followed Trent off the helicopter pad and toward a parking lot. His confident strides and sexy li’l smile made her wish she knew what was going on inside his head.

Monica matched his stride and kept up her side of the conversation. “So after your joyriding youth you decided to fly helicopters for a living?”

“You could say that.”

His two-door Jeep had one of those half tops on it that covered your head but left the back open to the air. Trent tossed her bag in the backseat and opened her door.

He waited for her to climb in before shutting her in. Yeah, his mother taught him well. “Did you ever consider a different line of work?” she asked once he was inside.

“I worked in business administration for a while.”

“I can’t see you wearing a suit, tie, and dress shoes.”

His shoulders buckled in with a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“My older brother, Jason, says he has a hard time picturing me wearing shorts and flip-flops every day.” He started the engine and put the car in gear with the same finesse as he did his helicopter. He waved at a group of people standing by what looked like a guard shack before pulling onto the road.

“Are you and your brother close?”

“We watch out for each other.”

Monica thought of Jessie. She and her sister had been inseparable before Jessie married Jack. Jessie lived in Texas but still flew out all the time to visit. Easily accomplished when your husband owned his own plane.

Except Jack didn’t fly it. He had pilots to do that.

“What about you? Siblings?”

“My sister, Jessie. She was worried when I told her I was coming here.”

The small road leading from the airport was hardly large enough for one car, let alone two. Yet a few compact models hugged the edges as they passed.

“It takes a lot of courage to dive into this mess.”

Monica shrugged. “Sometimes leaving your personal life behind for a heavy dose of reality reminds us of the important things.” Damn, where had that come from? She settled into the words that had come from her lips and realized how true they were.

“Most people come to the island to escape their lives.”

Was that him? Was Trent hiding from real life?

“Not this week.”

Another small car passed them. “Good God this is a narrow road.”

“You get used to it.”

Where they were on the island was free of any flood damage left behind from the tsunami. A few rocks had obviously come loose and Trent swerved between them. “How was the damage from the quake here?”

“Many lost their homes. I think once everyone is accounted for, the reality of what it’s going to take to rebuild will be enormous.”

“What about your home? Did it fall?”

He shook his head. “New construction. Almost makes me feel guilty for having a home when so many don’t.”

She watched the passing trees while rain started to fall again. “A version of survivor’s guilt. That’s normal.”

“So, what? You’re a psychiatrist and a nurse?” The question could have been sarcastic, but it sounded a lot like admiration.

“Half my job is psychological, calming patients, families. Keeping a cool head when everything is going bat-shit crazy.” Some of the staff back home called her the Ice Queen, or Queenie. At first, it had to do with how she’d turned down the guys in the department when they asked her out. But now she liked to think it was because she kept an icy grip on her emotions when everything exploded.

Monica noticed Trent watching her from behind his glasses. “Do you ever lose it?”

“No.” Her answer was quick. After a deep breath, she said, “But this place is already testing me.”

“Oh?”

She considered what she was driving into. It would be worse than the day before. At least in the main hospital there were other doctors and nurses she could grab to help. Donald had asked her to go into a war zone virtually empty-handed. “I don’t know what I’m headed into and I’m doing it without coffee on board or even a shower. The lack of sleep doesn’t even need to be mentioned.”

“Isn’t there a doctor following you out here?”

“Not right away.”

“Damn.”

“I know, right? I have two hands and one brain. I can only do so much.” The more she thought about it the less she liked the idea of being at Port Lucia without a doctor.

Trent pulled off the main road and wound his way through an even narrower street. This one was better maintained but didn’t leave any room at all for passing cars.

Trent slowed the Jeep as they rounded a curve, and out the window Monica saw a sprawling single story home.

“Where are we?”

Trent pulled the car to a stop and shoved his sunglasses into the center compartment. “Twenty minutes will take care of your need for coffee and a shower.”

“But Port Lucia?”

“Can wait twenty minutes. They may not even have running water there. I do. I’ll fire up the generator and make us coffee.”

Monica sat staring at him with her mouth half-open. “This is your home?”

He nodded and opened his door. “C’mon, Monica. I have a feeling this will be your last shower for a few days. Might as well grab it while you can.”

She swung her gaze to his house again. An open beamed porch wrapped around the outside. Beyond the roof, she could see a glimpse of the ocean. The thought of a shower… coffee… heaven. “I don’t even know you.”