Gwen Yates checked the brown leather-banded watch on her wrist. Again. "Where are they?"Okay, so it had only been all of thirty seconds since the last time she checked but still...where were her boss and his son? The group's flight would leave in less than twenty minutes and they all still had to get through security.Her gaze scanned the crowded, sun-drenched Seattle airport terminal, searching through the throng of travelers for Dr. Ross Harper's distinctive white hair and towering frame. "Probably stuck in traffic," offered Gwen's colleague, Joyce Kincaid.The tall, athletic woman stood guard over her duffel bag and leaned against the wall of windows separating the foot traffic and the gift shop of SeaTac Airport. Joyce's short brown hair stuck out in tufts from beneath the brim of a khaki-green hat. She held a medical journal on childhood diseases.Gwen admired Joyce's dedication in keeping abreast of changes in her field of pediatrics. Though Joyce had ten years on Gwen, they shared a bond of determination to be the best they could be in each of their chosen fields.Ned Leeds, another colleague, nodded his balding head. "Monday morning. Slow commute."His distinct abrupt way of communicating never failed to astound Gwen, even though his estimate was more than accurate for the Seattle traffic. The short, forty-something surgeon had made it clear in the beginning of her tenure at Harper Clinic that he didn't waste his breath on trivial conversation. In the three years since Gwen had joined their clinic's staff as a physician's assistant, she had yet to hear the man say more than a four-word sentence.Gwen turned her gaze back toward the ticket area. Dr. Harper would have allowed time for traffic. Something wasn't right. She toyed with the boarding pass in her hand. "Hey, Craig, do you have your cell on you?"The fourth member of their team sat on the floor with his back against the wall. Craig Samuels, a twenty-five-year-old intern at Harper Clinic, reached into the outside pouch of the backpack sitting beside him and pulled out a small black flip phone. "Hit number three to auto-dial the doc's cell."As Gwen flipped the phone open, the gate agent announced their flight to London would board soon. Her stomach contracted with anxiety. Where was Dr. Harper? Usually, her boss was prompt and expected others to follow suit.She listened to the phone ringing. He was probably late because of his son, Derek, the unexpected add-on to this trip.Gwen didn't agree with her boss that the new CEO of Dr. Harper's brainchild, Hands of Healing International, should join the team on this particular mission. Son of the founder notwithstanding, the man hadn't even been in his position for more than six months and had failed to show up on time to the training classes to boot.Gwen had received the disturbing impression that Derek was only biding his time, trying to please his father, until something bigger and better came along.Gwen's limited dealings with Derek, Dr. Harper's only child, had left an indelible impression. There was a recklessness to him that was disturbing, and she didn't like his intense way of looking at her as if she were some unexplainable virus strain that needed to be studied.Not to mention the undercurrent of competition that charged the air whenever he was present. She had no clue what prize he wanted, but she'd decided not long after he'd come aboard that minimal contact was the best option."Harper."The deep male voice rattled Gwen from her thoughts.Derek. "Where are you?" she asked. "Just pulling up. There was an accident on I-5."Thankful Dr. Harper and his son weren't the ones in the accident, she let out a relieved breath. "We're waiting at the security checkpoint.""See you in a few." The phone went dead. Gwen snapped the small handheld phone closed and handed it back to Craig."They're on their way."Joyce pushed off from the wall and snagged her duffel bag by the sReed, Terri is the author of 'Sheltering Heart ', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373873883 and ISBN 0373873883.