Книга - Taming Her Navy Doc

Taming Her Navy Doc
Amy Ruttan


The one woman to tame him… Finally the injured Navy SEAL brought to surgeon Erica Griffin in the dead of night has a name: Captain Thorne Wilder—her new commanding officer! Five years on he’s just as gorgeous as Erica remembers…but now he's totally off-limits!Thorne has been left damaged, brooding and untameable after the loss of his dreams—and beautiful Erica is an unwanted complication! She might be as wary of relationships as he is, but fighting temptation will be the biggest battle of all…












Praise for Amy Ruttan (#ulink_78b59dfa-db3f-5d02-9cd2-1bb2539b620f)


‘I highly recommend this for all fans of romance reads with amazing, absolutely breathtaking scenes, to-die-for dialogue, and everything else that is needed to make this a beyond awesome and WOW read!’

—GoodReads on Melting the Ice Queen’s Heart

‘A sensational romance, filled with astounding medical drama. Author Amy Ruttan made us visualise the story with her flawless storytelling. The emotional and sensory details are exquisitely done and the sensuality in the love scene just sizzles. Highly recommended for all lovers of medical romance.’

—Contemporary Romance Reviews on Safe in His Heart




Taming

Her Navy Doc

Amy Ruttan







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Dear Reader (#ulink_6ddd5861-d699-5493-8dee-02d12b81ba0c),


Thank you for picking up a copy of Taming Her Navy Doc.

I have a huge admiration for the men and women who serve in the armed forces. I recently met a naval officer who said that, ‘To give the ultimate sacrifice to your country is why men and women serve their country.’

His words touched me so deeply. My family has a military history, dating back to when Canada was not a country but a colony of Great Britain. My admiration for those who serve runs deep.

Thorne made the ultimate sacrifice for his country. He loved being a SEAL, and in one tragic circumstance that was all taken away from him—by the woman who has now come to the naval base he’s stationed at. He’s conflicted by the promise he made to his dying brother and his desire for Commander Erica Griffin. He’s not sure he deserves happiness.

I hope you enjoy reading Thorne and Erica’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I love hearing from readers, so please drop by my website, amyruttan.com (http://amyruttan.com), or give me a shout on Twitter @ruttanamy (http://www.twitter.com/ruttanamy)

With warmest wishes

Amy Ruttan




Dedication (#ulink_171498bc-d9e9-5b00-a63b-666a7d78ea3a)


This book is dedicated to all of those men and women who give the ultimate sacrifice. Thank you.




Table of Contents


Cover (#ue252d6da-9ceb-5214-9a9e-1e0e276ea1af)

Praise for Amy Ruttan (#ufb98fbc4-8cb2-5ca0-8eec-16f7c17d4dc4)

Title Page (#u1d875f73-252e-5dbe-acb8-4d5d380992fc)

Dear Reader (#u5d51e699-6fb8-5103-95de-e5a8f3a32d2d)

Dedication (#u95e5788b-83e8-5712-a657-8ffc4b2a1922)

PROLOGUE (#ua8458236-8253-5d52-9bd7-6ebc15eba4d1)

CHAPTER ONE (#ue793b917-0baa-5739-90c9-95b553a7a659)

CHAPTER TWO (#uc7b386d4-02ce-5df6-8758-2e8f23adbe87)

CHAPTER THREE (#u68cef9f6-1b5f-5dad-a8ba-bba83d6c273b)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




PROLOGUE (#ulink_95c5ec8e-5555-5d87-b7f0-d2ce36e90559)


IT WAS PITCH-BLACK and she couldn’t figure out why the lights were off at first. Erica moved quickly, trying to shake the last remnants of sleep from her brain. Not that she’d got much sleep. She’d come off a twenty-four-hour shift and had got maybe two, possibly three, hours of sleep. She wasn’t sure when the banging on her berth door roused her, telling her they needed her on deck.

What struck her as odd was why had the hospital ship gone into silent running.

She’d been woken up and told nothing. Only that some injured officers were inbound. She hadn’t even been told the nature of their injuries. When she came out on deck, there was only a handful of staff and a chopper primed and waiting.

Covert operation.

That was what her gut told her and the tension shared by those waiting said the same thing.

Top secret.

Then it all made sense. She’d been trained and gone through many simulations of such a situation, but in her two years on the USNV Hope she’d never encountered one.

Adrenaline now fueled her body. She had no idea what was coming in, or what to expect, but she knew she had to be on her A-game.

Not that she ever wasn’t on her A-game. Her two years on the Hope had been her best yet and she’d risen in the ranks finally to get to this moment, being trusted with a covert operation. She had no doubt that was what it was because it must be important if their mission to aid a volcanic eruption disaster zone in Indonesia was being stalled. As she glanced around at the staff standing at attention and waiting, she saw it was all senior officers on deck, except for a couple of on-duty petty officers.

“How many minutes did they say they were out, Petty Officer?” Erica had to shout over the sound of waves. It was unusually choppy on the Arabian Sea, but it was probably due to the fact that the ship was on silent running. Only the stabilizers on the sides kept USNV Hope from tipping over. She couldn’t see Captain Dayton anywhere, but then she suspected her commanding officer was at the helm. Silent running in the middle of the Indian Ocean at night was no easy feat.

“Pardon me, Commander?” the petty officer asked.

“I asked, how many minutes out?”

“Five at the most, Commander. We’re just waiting for the signal.”

And as if on cue a flare went off the port side and, in the brief explosion of light, Erica could make out the faint outline of a submarine. The chopper lifted from the helipad and headed out in the direction of the flare.

“Two minutes out!” someone shouted. “Silent running, people, and need-to-know basis.”

Erica’s heart raced.

This was why she’d got into the Navy. This was why she wanted to serve her country. She had fought for this moment, even when she had been tormented at Annapolis about not having what it took.

Dad would’ve been proud.

And a lump formed in her throat as she thought of her father. Her dad, a forgotten hero. She was serving, and giving it her all helping wounded warriors, and being on the USNV Hope gave her that. She had earned the right to be here.

The taunts that she’d slept her way to the top, telling her she couldn’t make it, hadn’t deterred her. The nay-saying had strengthened her more. Even when her dad suffered with his PTSD and his wounds silently, he would still wear his uniform with pride, his head held high. He was her hero. Now she was a highly decorated commander and surgeon and it gave her pride. So she held her head up high.

The better she did, the more she achieved the shame of her one mistake being washed away. At least, that was what she liked to think, even if others thought she’d end up with PTSD like her father: unable to handle the pressures, her memory disgraced. Well, they had another think coming. She was stronger than they thought she was.

The chopper was returning, a stretcher dangling as it hovered. Erica raced forward, crouching low to keep her balance so the wind from the chopper’s blades wouldn’t knock her on her backside.

With help the stretcher unhooked and was lifted onto a gurney. Once they had the patient stabilized they wheeled the gurney off the deck and into triage.

It was then, in the light, she could see the officer was severely injured and, as she glanced down at him, he opened his eyes and gazed at her. His eyes were the most brilliant blue she’d ever seen.

“We’re here to get you help,” she said, trying to reassure him as they wheeled him into a trauma pod. He seemed to understand what she was saying, but his gaze was locked on her, his breath labored, panting through obvious pain.

There was a file, instead of a commanding officer, and she opened it; there was no name, no rank of the patient.

Nothing. Only that he’d had gunshot wounds to the leg three days ago and now an extensive infection.

Where had they been that they couldn’t get medical attention right away? That several gunshot wounds could lead to such an infection?

Dirty water. Maybe they were camped out in the sewers.

“What’s your name?” she asked as she shone a light into his eyes, checking his pupillary reaction. Gauging the ABCs was the first protocol in trauma assessment.

“Classified,” he said through gritted teeth. “Leg.”

Erica nodded. “We’ll take care of it.”

As another medic hooked up a central line, Erica moved to his left leg and, as she peeled away the crude dressings, he let out a string of curses. As she looked at the mangled leg, she knew this man’s days serving were over.

“We’ll have to amputate; prep an OR,” Erica said to a nurse.

“Yes, Commander.” The nurse ran out of the trauma pod.

“What?” the man demanded. “What did you say?”

“I’m very sorry.” She leaned over to meet his gaze. “Your leg is full of necrotic tissue and the infection is spreading. We have to amputate.”

“Don’t amputate.”

“I’m sorry, but I have no choice.”

“Don’t you take my leg. Don’t you dare amputate.” The threat was clear, it was meant to scare her, but she wasn’t so easily swayed. Being an officer in the Navy, a predominantly male organization, had taught her quickly that she wasn’t going to let any man have power over her. No man would intimidate her. Something she’d almost forgotten at her first post in Rhode Island.

“Don’t ever let a man intimidate you, Erica. Chances are they’re more scared of you and your abilities.”

She’d forgotten those words her father had told her.

Never again.

“I’m sorry.” She motioned to the anesthesiologist to sedate him and, as she did, he reached out and grabbed her arm, squeezing her tight. His eyes had a wild light.

“Don’t you touch me! I won’t let you.”

“Stand down!” she yelled back at him.

“Don’t take my leg.” This time he was begging; the grip on her arm eased, but he didn’t let go. “Don’t take it. Let me serve my …” His words trailed off as the sedative took effect, his eyes rolling before he was unconscious.

His passionate plea tugged at her heart. She understood him, this stranger. She’d amputated limbs before and never thought twice. She had compassion, but this was something more. In the small fragment she’d shared with the unnamed SEAL, she had understood his fear and his vulnerability. It touched her deeply and she didn’t want to have to take his leg and end his career.

If there’d been another way, she’d have done it. There wasn’t.

The damage had been done.

If he’d gotten to her sooner, the infection would have been minor, the gunshot properly cared for.

It was the hazard of covert operations.

And her patient, whoever he was, was paying the price.

“Let’s get him intubated and into the OR Stat.” The words were hard for her to say, but she shook her sympathy for him from her mind and focused on the task at hand.

At least he’d have his life.

“Petty Officer, where is my patient’s commanding officer?” Erica asked as she came out of the scrub room.

“Over there, Commander. He’s waiting for your report.” The petty officer pointed over her shoulder and Erica saw a group of uniformed men waiting.

“Thank you,” Erica said as she walked toward them.

Navy SEALs.

She knew exactly what they were, though they had no insignia to identify themselves. They were obviously highly trained because when she was in surgery she’d been able to see that someone had some basic surgical skills as they’d tried to repair the damage caused by the bullets. Also, the bullets had been removed beforehand.

If it hadn’t been for the bacteria which had gotten in the wound, the repair would’ve sufficed.

At her approach, they saluted her and she returned it.

“How’s my man?” The commanding officer asked as he stepped forward.

“He made it through surgery, but the damage caused by the infection was too extensive. The muscle tissue was necrotic and I had to amputate the left leg below the knee.”

The man cursed under his breath and the others bowed their heads. “What caused the infection? Couldn’t it be cleared up with antibiotics?”

“It was a vicious form of bacteria,” Erica offered. “I don’t know much about your mission.”

“It’s classified,” the commanding officer said.

Erica nodded. “Well, you obviously have a good medic. The repair was crude, but stable.”

“He was our medic,” someone mumbled from the back, but was silenced when the commanding officer shot him a look which would make any young officer go running for the hills.

“If it hadn’t been for the bacteria getting in there … Depending on whatever your situation was, it could’ve been caused by many factors,” Erica said, trying to take the heat off the SEAL who’d stepped out of line.

“Like?” the commanding officer asked, impatience in his voice.

“Dirty water?” Erica ventured a guess, but when she got no response from the SEALs she shook her head. “I’m sorry, unless I know the details of your mission I can’t help you determine the exact cause of how your man picked up the bacteria.”

The commanding officer nodded. “Understood. How soon can we move him?”

“He’s in ICU. He has a high temperature and will require a long course of antibiotics as well as monitoring of his surgical wound.”

“Unacceptable,” the commanding officer snapped. “He needs to be moved. He can’t stay here.”

Erica crossed her arms. “You move him and he develops a post-op fever, he could die.”

“I’m sorry, Commander. We have a mission to fulfill.”

“Not with my patient, you don’t.”

“I’m sorry, Commander. We’re under strict orders. I can give him eight hours before our transport comes.” The commanding officer nodded and moved back to his group of men as they filed out of the surgical bay.

Erica shook her head.

She understood the protocols. It was a covert operation, but she didn’t agree with all the regulations.

Their medic was useless. He needed medical care for quite some time and as a physician she wanted to see it through.

When that young SEAL had blurted out that the man she’d operated on was their medic, her admiration for her patient grew. He’d operated on himself, most likely without anesthetic, and probably after he’d removed the bullets from the other man they’d brought on board after him. That man didn’t have the same extent of infection but, from what she’d gleaned from a scrub nurse, the gunshot wound had been a through-and-through. It hadn’t even nicked an artery.

The man was being watched for a post-op fever and signs of the bacterial infection but would make a full recovery.

Her patient on the other hand had months of rehabilitation and, yes, pain.

I wish I knew his name.

It was a strange thought which crept into her head, but it was there all the same, and she wished she knew who he really was, where he was from. Was he married? And, if he was, wouldn’t his wife want to know what she was in for as well?

Her patient was a mystery to her and she didn’t really like mysteries.

She headed into the ICU. He was extubated, but still sedated and now cleaned up. There were several cuts and scratches on his face, but they hadn’t been infiltrated by the bacteria.

Erica sighed; she hated ending the career of a fellow serviceman. She grabbed a chair and sat down by his bedside.

She had eight hours to monitor him, unless she appealed to someone higher up about keeping him here for his own good. At least until he was more stable to withstand a medical transport to the nearest base.

USNV Hope was a floating hospital. It was not as big as USNV Mercy, but just as capable of taking care of his needs while he recovered. And it wasn’t only the physical wounds Erica was worried about, but also the emotional ones he’d have when he recovered.

She knew about that. There were scars she still carried.

Her patient had begged for his leg because he wanted to serve. It was admirable. Hopefully, he’d get the help he needed. The help her father hadn’t had.

She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He squeezed back and moaned. “Liam?”

Erica didn’t know who Liam was but she stood so he could see her. “You’re okay.”

His eyes opened—those brilliant blue eyes. “What happened?”

“You had a bacterial infection. Your leg couldn’t be saved.”

He frowned, visibly upset, and tried to get up, but Erica held him down.

“Let me go!” He cursed a few choice words. “I told you not to take it. You lied to me. You lied to me, Liam! Why the heck did you do that? I’m not worth it. Damn it, let me out of here.”

Erica reached over and hit a buzzer as she threw as much of her weight on him as possible, trying to keep him calm as a nurse ran over with a sedative.

It was then he began to cry softly and her heart wrenched.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was your life, Liam. My life … I have nothing else. You left me. We promised to stay together. I need my leg to do that.”

Erica didn’t know who Liam was, but she got off of him as he stopped fighting back. “I’m sorry.” She took his hand once more. “I’m so very sorry.”

He nodded as the drugs began to take effect. “You’re so beautiful.”

The words caught her off guard. “I’m sorry?”

“Beautiful. Like an angel.” And then he said no more as he drifted off to sleep.

Erica sighed again and left his bedside. She had to keep this man here. He couldn’t go off with his unit.

He needed to recuperate, to get used to the idea that his leg was gone and understand why. He was a medic; he’d understand when he was lucid and she could explain medically why she’d taken his leg.

Pain made people think irrationally. She was sure that was why her father had gone AWOL during a covert mission, endangering everyone. That was why he had come home broken and that was why he’d eventually taken his own life.

“Watch out, she’s going to go AWOL like her father!”

The taunts and jeers made her stomach twist.

Block them out. Block them out.

“You need to get some sleep, Commander Griffin. You’ve been up for over thirty hours,” Nurse Regina said as she wrote the dosage in the patient’s chart. “Seriously, you look terrible.”

Erica rolled her eyes at her friend and bunk mate before yawning. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Do you know where Captain Dayton is?”

“He’s in surgery now the ship isn’t on silent running,” Regina remarked. “Is it urgent?”

“Yeah, when he’s out could you send him to my berth? I need to discuss this patient’s file with him.”

“Of course, Commander Griffin.”

Erica nodded and headed off to find her bunk.

She was going to fight that man’s unit to keep him on the hospital ship so he could get the help he needed.

There was no way any covert operation was going to get around her orders. Not this time. Not when this man’s life was on the line.

He deserved all the help she could give him.

The man had lost a leg in service to his country. It would take both physical and mental healing.

He’d paid his price and Erica was damn well going to make sure he was taken care of.




CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_fb9477d6-f9c9-57ee-980a-88574644d9de)


Five years later, Okinawa Prefecture, Japan

“CAPTAIN WILDER WILL see you now, Commander Griffin.”

Erica stood and straightened her dress uniform. She’d only landed in Okinawa five hours ago on a Navy transport and she was still suffering from jet lag. She’d flown from San Diego after getting her reassignment from the USNV Hope to a naval base hospital.

Another step in her career she was looking forward to, and the fact that it was in Japan had her extremely excited.

It was another amazing opportunity and one she planned to make the most of. Hopefully soon she’d get a promotion in rank but, given her track record, it seemed like she had to fight for every promotion or commendation she deserved.

It’s worth it. Each fight just proves you can do it. You’re strong.

Captain Dayton taking a disgraced young medical officer under his wing and letting her serve for seven years on the Hope was helping her put the past to rest.

Helping her forget her foolish mistake, her one dumb moment of weakness.

Erica followed the secretary into the office.

Dr. Thorne Wilder was the commanding officer of the general surgery wing of the naval hospital. They wouldn’t see as much action as they’d see in a field hospital, or on a medical ship, but she’d be caring for the needs of everyone on base.

Appendectomies, gall bladder removals, colectomies—whatever needed to be done, Erica was going to rise to the challenge.

Dr. Wilder had requested her specifically when she’d put in for reassignment to a Naval hospital. She’d expected some downtime in San Diego while she waited, but that hadn’t happened and she didn’t mind in the least. She’d spent almost a year after her disgrace at Rhode Island in San Diego, waiting to be reassigned, and then she’d been assigned to the Hope. Perhaps her past was indeed just that now.

Past.

It also meant she didn’t have to find temporary lodging or, in the worst-case scenario, stay with her mother in Arizona where Erica would constantly be lectured about being in the Navy. Her mother didn’t exactly agree with Erica’s career choice.

“You’re in too much danger! The Navy killed your father.”

No, the Navy hadn’t killed her father. Undiagnosed PTSD had killed her father eventually, even if his physicians had had a bit of a hand in it by clearing him to serve in a covert mission.

Her mother wanted to know why she hadn’t gone in to psychiatry, helped wounded warriors as a civilian. Though that had been her intention, working in an OR gave her a sense of satisfaction. Being a surgeon let her be on the front line, to see action if needs be, just like her father. It was why she’d become a medic, to save men and women like her father, both in the field and in recuperation.

“Commander Erica Griffin reporting for duty, sir.” She stood at attention and saluted.

Dr. Wilder had his back to her; he was staring out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. It was a bit of an uneven stance, but there was something about him: something tugging at the corner of her mind; something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was like when you had a thought on the tip of your tongue but, before the words could form, you lost it, though the mysterious thought remained in your head, forgotten but not wholly.

“At ease, Commander.” He turned around slowly, his body stiff, and she tried not to let out the gasp of surprise threatening to erupt from her.

Brilliant blue eyes gazed at her.

Eyes she’d seen countless times in her mind. They were hauntingly beautiful.

“You’re so beautiful … Beautiful. Like an angel.”

No man had ever said that to her before. Of course, he’d been drugged and out of his mind with shock, but still no one had said that to her. Not even Captain Seaton, her first commanding officer when she’d been a lowly and stupid lieutenant fresh out of Annapolis. Captain Seaton had wooed her, seduced her and then almost destroyed her career by claiming she was mentally unstable and obsessed with him after she’d ended the relationship.

She was far from unstable. She had a quick temper, but over time she’d learned to keep that in check. Her job and her status in the Navy intimidated men, usually.

So his words, his face, had stuck with her. As had the stigma and that was why she’d never date another officer. She wouldn’t let another person destroy her career.

Dating, if she had time, was always with a civilian. Though she didn’t know why at this moment she was thinking about dating.

“Like an angel …”

As Erica stared into Captain Wilder’s blue eyes, a warmth spread through her. She’d always wondered what had happened to him. Since he’d been moved against her wishes, she’d assumed he hadn’t made it.

She’d apparently been wrong. Which was good.

Five years ago when she’d woken up, she realized she’d slept for eight hours. So she’d run to find Captain Dayton, only to be told that, yes, her request had been heard, but had been denied by those higher up the chain of command. When she’d gone to check on her patient, he was gone.

All traces of him were gone.

It was like the covert operation had never happened.

Those men had never been on board.

Even her patient’s chart had gone; wiped clean like he’d never existed. She’d been furious, but there was nothing she could do. She was powerless, but she always wondered what had happened to that unnamed medic.

The man who had begged her not to take his leg.

The man who’d cried in her arms as the realization had overcome him.

Now, here he was. In Okinawa of all places, and he was a commanding officer.

Her commanding officer.

Dr. Thorne Wilder.

Captain Wilder.

She’d never pictured him to be a Thorne, but then again Thorne was such an unusual name and she wasn’t sure many people would look at someone and say, “Hey, that guy looks like a Thorne.” His head had been clean shaven when he’d been her patient, but his dark hair had grown out. It suited him.

The scars weren’t as visible because he wasn’t as thin, his cheeks weren’t hollow, like they’d been when she’d treated him and his skin was no longer pale and jaundiced from blood loss and bacterial infection. She hadn’t realized how tall he actually was—of course when she’d seen him he’d been on a stretcher. She was five foot ten and he was at least three inches taller than her, with broad shoulders.

He looked robust. Healthy and absolutely handsome.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen such an attractive man. Not that she’d had much time to date or even look at a member of the opposite sex.

Get a grip on yourself.

He cocked his head to the side, a confused expression on his face. “Commander Griffin, are you quite all right?”

He didn’t remember her.

Which saddened her, but also made her feel relieved just the same. Erica didn’t want him blaming her for taking his leg or accusing her of something which would erase all the work she’d done over the years to bring honor back to her name and shake the venomous words of Captain Seaton.

It was the pain medication. The fever. It’s hardly surprising that he doesn’t remember you.

“I’m fine … Sorry, Captain Wilder. I haven’t had a chance to readjust since arriving in Okinawa. I’m still operating on San Diego time.”

He smiled and nodded. “Of course, my apologies for making you report here so soon after you landed at the base. Won’t you have a seat?” He motioned to a chair on the opposite side of his desk.

Erica removed her hat and tucked it under her arm before sitting down. She was relieved to sit because her knees had started to knock together, either from fatigue or shock, she wasn’t quite sure which. Either way, she was grateful.

Thorne sat down on the other side of the desk and opened her personnel file. “I have to say, Commander, I was quite impressed with your service record. You were the third in your class at Annapolis.”

“Yes,” she responded. She didn’t like to talk about Annapolis—because it led to questions about her first posting under Captain Seaton. She didn’t like to relive her time there, so when commanding officers talked about her achievements she kept her answers short and to the point.

There was no need to delve in any further. Everything was in her personnel file. Even when she’d been turned down for a commendation because she was “mentally unfit”.

Don’t think about it.

“And you served on the USNV Hope for the last seven years?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “Well, we run a pretty tight ship here in Okinawa. We serve not only members of the armed forces and their families but also residents of Ginowan.”

“I look forward to serving, Captain.”

Thorne leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing her as if he could read her mind. It was unnerving. It was like he could see right through to her very core and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Everyone she’d let in so far had hurt her.

Even her own mother, with her pointed barbs about Erica’s career choice and how serving in the Navy had killed her father. Her mother had never supported her.

“The Navy ruined our life, Erica. Why do you want to go to Annapolis?” Erica hadn’t been able to tell her mother that it was because of her father. Her mother didn’t think much about him, but to Erica he was a hero and she’d wanted to follow in his footsteps.

“I’m proud to serve my country, Erica. It’s the ultimate sacrifice. I’m honored to do it. Never forget I felt this way, even if you hear different.”

So every remark about the armed forces ruining their life hurt. It was like a slap in the face each time and she’d gone numb with her mother, and then Captain Seaton, who had used her. She shut down emotionally to people. It was for the best.

At least, she thought she had, until a certain Navy SEAL had crossed her path five years before. He’d been the only one to stir any kind of real emotion in her in a long time.

“I have no doubt you’ll do well here, Commander. Have you been shown to your quarters on base?”

“Yes.”

“Are they adequate?”

“Of course, Captain.”

He nodded. “Good. Well, get some sleep. Try to adjust to Okinawa time. Jet lag can be horrible. I’ll expect you to report for duty tomorrow at zero four hundred hours.”

Erica stood as he did and saluted him. “Thank you, Captain.”

“You’re dismissed, Commander.”

She nodded and placed her hat back on her head before turning and heading out of the office as fast as she could.

Once she was a safe distance away she took a moment to pause and take a deep breath. She’d never expected to run into him again.

Given the state he’d been in when she’d last seen him, she’d had her doubts that he would survive, but he had and he was still serving.

Even though he was no longer a Navy SEAL, at least he hadn’t been honorably discharged. It had been one of his pleas when she’d told him about his leg.

“This is your life, Liam. My life … I have nothing else. I need my leg to do that.”

The memory caused a shiver to run down her spine. It was so clear, like it had happened yesterday, and she couldn’t help but wonder again who Liam was. Whoever he was, it affected Captain Wilder.

It doesn’t matter. You’re here to do your job.

Erica sighed and then composed herself.

She was here to be a surgeon for the Navy.

That was all.

Nothing more. Dr. Thorne Wilder’s personal life was of no concern to her, just like her personal life, or lack thereof, was no one else’s concern.

Still, at least she knew what had happened to her stranger.

At least he was alive and that gave her closure to something that had been bothering her for five years. At last she could put that experience to rest and she could move on with her life.

After Erica left, Thorne got up and wandered back over to his window. From his vantage point he could see the walkway from his office and maybe catch a glimpse of Erica before her ride came to take her back to her quarters on base.

She’d been surprised to see him, though she’d tried not to show it. She hid her emotions well, kept them in check like any good officer.

Erica remembered him, but how much else did she remember?

Bits and pieces of his time on the USNV Hope were foggy to him, but there were two things he remembered about his short time on the ship and those two things were losing his leg and seeing her face.

He remembered her face clearly. It had been so calm in the tempestuous strands of memory of that time. He remembered pain.

Oh, yes. He’d never forget the pain. He still felt it from time to time. “Phantom limb” pain. It drove him berserk, but he had ways of dealing with it.

At night, though, when he closed his eyes and that moment came back to him in his nightmares, her face was the balm to soothe him.

A nameless, angelic face tied with a painful moment. It was cruel. To remember her meant he had to relive that moment over and over again.

And then, as fate would have it, a stack of personnel files had been piled on his desk about a month ago and he’d been told to find another general surgeon to come to Okinawa. Her file had been on the top as the most qualified.

It was then he’d had a name for his angel.

Erica.

As he thought about her name, she came into view, walking quickly toward an SUV which was pulling up. He thought he adequately remembered her beauty, but his painful haze of jangled memories didn’t do her justice.

Her hair wasn’t white-blond, it was more honey colored. Her skin was pale and her lips red. Her eyes were dark, like dark chocolate. She was tall and even taller in her heels. He was certain she could almost look him in the eye.

She walked with purpose, her head held high. He liked that about her. Mick, his old commanding officer in the Navy SEALs Special Ops, had told him a month after his amputation that the surgeon who’d removed his leg wouldn’t back down. Even when Mick had tried to scare her off.

He’d been told how his surgeon had fought for him to get the best medical care he needed. How she’d sat at his bedside. She’d seen him at his most vulnerable. Something he didn’t like people to see.

Vulnerability, emotion, was for the weak.

He’d been trained to be tough.

He’d been in Special Ops for years, even though he’d started his career just as a naval medic like Erica.

And then on a failed mission in the Middle East they’d become cornered. He’d thrown himself in front of a barrage of bullets to save Tyler from being killed. Bullets had ripped through his left calf, but he’d managed to stop the bleeding, repair the damage and move on.

Only they’d been surrounded and they’d had to resort to the old sewer system running under the city to make their escape and meet their transport.

The infested and dirty water was where he’d probably caught the bacteria which had cost him his leg, but it was his leg or his life.

For a long time after the fact, he’d wanted to die because he couldn’t be a Navy SEAL any longer. He’d almost died. Just like his twin brother, Liam, had on a different mission. He remembered the look of anguish on Liam’s wife’s face when he’d had to tell her that her husband was gone. It was why Thorne wouldn’t date. Seeing the pain in Megan’s eyes, the grief which ate at her and her two kids … It was something Thorne never wanted to put anyone through. It was best Thorne severed all ties. He wasn’t going to stop serving and it was better if he didn’t leave behind a family.

And it was his fault Liam was dead and that Megan was a widow. One stupid wrong move, that was what Thorne had done, and Liam had pushed him out of the way.

Liam had paid with his life and Thorne would forever make penance for that mistake.

Thorne had enlisted in the Special Ops and was accepted as a SEAL. It had been Liam’s passion and Thorne planned to fulfill it for him.

And then he’d lost his leg saving another.

He didn’t regret it.

Though he was ashamed he was no longer in the Special Ops. When he’d taken that bullet for Tyler he’d been able to see Liam’s face, disappointed over another foolish move.

Thorne had returned to serve as a medic ashamed and numb to life.

He wasn’t the same man anymore, and it wasn’t just the absence of his leg which made him different.

At least he still had surgery. When the assignment to command the general surgery clinic in Okinawa had come up, Thorne had jumped at it—and when he’d seen that Erica, a highly recommended and decorated surgeon in the Navy, was requesting reassignment to Okinawa Prefecture, Thorne had wanted the chance to know more about the woman who’d taken his leg and saved his life.

Had she?

His mother didn’t like the fact he’d gone back to serving after he lost his leg.

“I lost your brother and almost lost you. Take the discharge and come home!”

Except Thorne couldn’t. Serving in the Navy was his life. He might not be an active SEAL any longer, but he was still a surgeon. He was useful.

He was needed. If he couldn’t be a SEAL and serve that way, in honor of his brother he could do this.

Thorne scrubbed his hand over his face. His leg was bothering him and soon he’d head back to his quarters on the base and take off his prosthetic. Maybe soak his stump in the ocean to ease the pain. He couldn’t swim, but he could wade.

Water soothed Thorne and aided him with his phantom limb syndrome. Seeing Erica face-to-face had made his leg twinge. As if it knew and remembered she’d been the one to do the surgery and was reacting to her.

Perhaps bringing her here was a bad idea.

She knew and had seen too much of his softer side. He’d been exposed to her, lying naked on her surgical table, and Thorne was having a hard time trying to process that.

Perhaps he should’ve kept her away.

A flash behind him made him turn and he could see dark clouds rolling in from the east. It was typhoon season in Okinawa, but this was just a regular storm. The tall palm trees along the beach in the distance began to sway as the waves crashed against the white sand.

A dip was definitely out of the question now.

The storm rolling in outside reflected how he felt on the inside and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was losing his mind by bringing her here.

When had he become so morbid and self-obsessed?

He couldn’t reassign her without any just cause. It would damage her reputation and he wouldn’t do that to Erica.

No, instead he’d force her to ask for a reassignment on her own terms.

Though he didn’t want to do it, he was going to make Erica’s life here in Okinawa hard so that she’d put in for the first transfer to San Diego and he could forget about her.

Once and for all.




CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_697078f1-bc9a-5d39-a2f9-bf193bead41a)


“YOU’VE BEEN HERE a week and you’ve been getting some seriously crummy shifts.”

Erica glanced up from her charting at Bunny Hamasaki, a nurse and translator for the hospital. A lot of the residents of Ginowan knew English, but some of the older residents didn’t. Bunny was middle-aged, born and bred on Okinawa. Her father was a Marine and her mother a daughter of a fisherman.

She’d been born at the old hospital down the road and seemed to know everyone and everything about everyone.

“I could say the same for you,” Erica remarked.

Bunny snorted. “I’m used to these shifts. This time of night is when I’m needed the most. Plus I can avoid my husband’s snoring and bad breath, working the night shift.”

Erica chuckled and turned back to her charting.

Bunny reminded her of her scrub nurse, bunk mate and best friend Regina. Truth be told, she was a wee bit homesick for the Hope and for her friends.

This is what you wanted. You’ll make captain faster this way.

And that was what really mattered—proving herself.

“I don’t think I’m getting crummy shifts.”

Bunny snorted again. “Commander, with all due respect, you’re getting played with.”

Bunny moved away from the nursing station to check on a patient and, as Erica glanced around the recovery room, she had to agree.

Since her arrival a week ago all she’d been getting was night shifts.

Which seriously sucked, because by the time she’d clocked out she was too exhausted to explore, socialize or make friends in Okinawa. Then again, she was here to work, not to make friends. After her shift, she’d return to her housing on base and collapse.

Maybe she’d unpack. Though she didn’t usually do that until she’d been on-site for at least a month.

No. She’d probably just crash and sleep the day away. Except for the first day she’d arrived and met with Dr. Wilder, she hadn’t seen Okinawa in the daylight.

He’s putting you through your paces.

That was something she was familiar with.

Even though she was a high-ranking officer, she was positive the other surgeons were having fun initiating her, seeing how their commanding officer was doing it.

“Stupid ritual,” she mumbled to herself.

“What was that, Commander?”

Erica snapped the chart closed and stood to attention when she realized Dr. Wilder was standing behind her. “Nothing, sir.”

Thorne cocked an eyebrow, a smile of bemusement on his face. “You’re not up for formal inspection, Commander. At ease.”

Erica opened her chart again and flipped to the page she’d left off at, trying to ignore the fact that Dr. Wilder was standing in front of her. She could feel his gaze on her.

“I heard the whole conversation with Bunny,” he mentioned casually.

“Oh, yes?” Erica didn’t look up.

“I’m scheduling you for the night shift deliberately. You do realize that?”

“I know, Captain Wilder.”

“You know?” There was a hint of confusion in his voice.

Erica sighed; she was never going to finish this chart at this rate. She set down her pen and glanced up at him. “Yes. Of course you are. I’m not a stranger to this treatment.”

“I bet you’re not.” He leaned against the counter. “You think it’s a stupid ritual?”

“I do.” She wasn’t going to sugarcoat anything. She never did.

His eyes widened, surprised. “Why?”

“It’s bullying.”

“You think I’m bullying you?” he asked.

“Of course. I’m new.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?”

“The ritual bothers me. I think it’s not needed, but it’s not going to dissuade me from my job.”

There was a brief flash of disappointment. Like he’d been trying to get her to snap or something. She was made of stronger mettle than that and he’d have to do a damn lot more to sway her. She was here to stay for the long haul, or at least until she made captain—and then the possibilities would be endless.

“Well, then, you won’t mind working the night shift again next week.”

So much for unpacking.

“Of course not.” She shrugged. “Is that all you wanted to talk about, my shift work?”

His gaze narrowed. “You’re very flippant to your commanding officer.”

She wanted to retort something about him being on her operating table five years ago, but she bit her tongue. The last time she’d lost her cool, when she’d forgotten about the delicate and precise hierarchy, she’d lost her commendation. Of course, that had been a totally different situation with a former lover. Captain Wilder wasn’t her lover. He was just a former patient and now her commanding officer.

She was used to this macho behavior. Erica could take whatever he had to throw at her. As long as he didn’t bring up what happened during her first post, but she seriously doubted he knew all the details about it because he would’ve mentioned it by now.

Everyone always did.

“Sorry, sir.” Though she wasn’t. Not in the least.

“It won’t last forever.” He was smirking again.

“Can I be frank, Captain Wilder?”

He shrugged. “By all means.”

“Perhaps we should go somewhere privately to discuss this.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” The recovery area was usually quiet, but it was even more so now, and it felt like everyone was fixated on her and Captain Wilder. “If this is your way to try and make me crack, you won’t succeed.”

Thorne crossed his arms. “Really? You think this is a means to drive you away?”

“I do and you won’t succeed. If there’s one thing you’ll learn from my file, Captain, it is that I don’t give up. I won’t give up. So I’ll take whatever you have for me, Captain, and I won’t complain. So, if you’re looking to see me break, you won’t. If night shifts are what you want to give me, so be it. I’ve done countless night shifts before. It’s fine. If your plan is to ostracize me, well, then, you won’t succeed unless I’m the only one working and there are no patients. I’m tougher than I appear, Captain Wilder.”

Thorne was impressed. He didn’t want to be, but he was. She barely saw the light of day, yet she came in and did everything without a complaint. When he’d heard her mumble something about stupidity, he’d been planning to swoop in and make his kill. Push her to the breaking point.

Only she’d risen to the challenge and basically told him to bring it on.

Yes, his goal with the numerous night shifts was to ostracize her, but it wasn’t working. He admired that. He didn’t want to, but he did. She was right. It wouldn’t work unless she was working by herself out in the middle of a desert somewhere. He was so impressed.

So she’ll take whatever I give her.

It was time to throw her off.

“Tell you what. You’re on days as of Saturday. Take tomorrow off and readjust your inner clock. I’ll see you at zero nine hundred hours. Get some sleep. You obviously need it.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond; he turned and walked away, trying not to let her see his limp, because his leg had been bothering him today, and maybe because of that he’d decided to be a bit soft on her.

No, that wasn’t it. At least, that was what he told himself.

Just as she wouldn’t back down, he wouldn’t either.

Thorne would make sure she left the hospital and that it would be her idea. Even though he kept his distance he was always aware of what she was doing and when he was around her he felt his resolve soften because she impressed him so.

He was drawn to her.

No woman had affected him like this in a long time. Even then he wasn’t sure any woman had had this kind of hold on him.

Don’t think about her that way.

Only he couldn’t help himself. He’d been thinking about her, seeing her face for years.

She haunted him.

Why did I bring her here?

Because he was a masochist. He was taunting himself with something, someone he couldn’t have.

A twinge of pain racked through him. He needed to seek the solace of his office, so no one saw him suffer.

Erica had to go before things got out of hand.

He pushed the elevator button and when it opened he walked in. Thankfully it was empty at this time of night and he could lean against the wall and take some weight off his stump. Even if it was just a moment, he’d take it.

He waited until the doors were almost shut before relaxing, but just as the doors were about to close, they opened and Erica stepped onto the elevator.

Damn it.

He braced himself. “Can I help you, Commander?”

“Excuse me, Captain, but I don’t understand why you’ve suddenly changed your mind about my shifts. Didn’t you understand what I was saying to you?”

“I do understand English,” he snapped.

Go away.

“Why did you suddenly change my shift? Especially so publically. Others will think you’re being easy on me or that I’m a whiner.”

“Weren’t you whining?”

“No. I don’t whine. You don’t have to give me a day shift.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Erica pushed the emergency stop and the elevator grinded to a halt. “I want you to treat me like any other surgeon, like any other officer. I’m not green behind the ears, or however that saying goes.”

“It’s wet behind the ears,” Thorne corrected her.

“Well, I’m not that.”

No. You’re not.

Thorne resisted the urge to smile and he resisted the urge to pull her in his arms and kiss her. Her brown eyes were dark with what he was sure was barely controlled rage, her cheeks flushed red. She was ticked off and he loved the fire in her.

His desire for Erica was unwelcome. He couldn’t have a romantic attachment.

I don’t deserve it.

Emotions were weakness.

Compassion for his patients, he had that in plenty, but these kinds of feelings were unwelcome. Still, he couldn’t stop them from coming, and as she stood in the elevator berating him he fought with every fiber of his being not to press her up against the elevator wall and show her exactly what he was thinking, that he’d fantasized about her for five years.

“Well?” she demanded and he realized he hadn’t been listening to a word she’d been saying. He’d totally zoned out, which was unlike him. He rarely lost focus, because if you lost focus you were dead.

At least that was what he’d picked up in his years in the Navy SEALs Special Ops and on the numerous dive missions.

Tyler had lost focus and that was why the sniper would have finished him off, if Thorne hadn’t thrown himself in the path. Just like the stupid mistake he’d made when Liam had thrown him out of the way and paid with his life. Thorne had only lost a leg saving Tyler’s life.

Just thinking about that moment made his phantom limb send an electric jolt of pain up through his body and he winced.

“Are you all right?” Erica asked, and she reached out and touched his shoulder.

He brushed her hand away. “I’m fine.” He took a deep breath.

“You look like you’re in pain.”

“I said I was fine!” He straightened up, putting all his weight on his prosthetic and working through the pain. “I won’t give you an easy ride, but I also won’t be so cruel. I realize that my actions are detrimental to your mental health.”

The words “mental health” struck a chord with her. He could tell by the way the blood drained from her face. He knew they would hurt. In her file he’d read that her first commendation had been turned down due to her being unfit emotionally. Though he didn’t have the details as to why, that was unimportant. His barb worked and he regretted it.

“My mental health is fine,” she said quietly.

“Is it?”

She didn’t glance at him as she slapped the emergency button, the elevator starting again. The elevator stopped on the next floor and the doors opened. She stepped out. The confidence, the strength which had been with her only a moment ago, had vanished.

And, though he should be pleased that he’d got to her, he wasn’t. Thorne hated himself for doing that to her.

It’s for the best. She’s dangerous to you.

“Thank you for your time, Captain. I will see you on Saturday at zero nine hundred hours.” The doors closed and she was gone and Thorne was left with a bitter taste in his mouth. His small victory wasn’t so sweet.




CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_3cb49a0c-05c1-5792-af80-aacb2743f5d7)


“AHA!” ERICA PULLED out her sneakers from the box. “It’s been a long time.”

Great. You’re talking to sneakers now.

Maybe she was overtired. As she glanced around the room at all the boxes she realized how disorganized her life had become.

It wasn’t many boxes, but she didn’t really like living in a state of chaos. She’d gone from the USNV Hope to San Diego and within forty-eight hours she’d been posted to Okinawa.

If she kept busy she didn’t notice it so much, but now that she had some free time it irked her.

She’d rather be busy than not. Relaxation was all well and good, but she had a job to do. She stared at her bright-blue sneakers with the neon yellow laces. Although she loved running, it was not what she wanted to be doing today.

Erica would rather be in the hospital removing a gall bladder. She’d even take paperwork.

This was a new posting and she had a lot to prove. Not only to herself, but to her comrades.

Damn Captain Wilder.

Questioning her mental health like that. How dared he?

Are you surprised?

He was probably just like Captain Seaton—threatened by her. She cursed Captain Seaton for being a major puenez, or “stinkbug”, as her mamère often said about men who were scared of strong women. She was also mad at herself for being duped by Captain Seaton and letting him affect her career.

And then she chuckled to herself for condemning her superior who had given her the day off. Most people wouldn’t be complaining about that and she found it humorous that she was condemning the man again.

Hadn’t she done enough damage when she’d had to take his leg after it had got infected?

The guilt about ending his career as a SEAL ate at her, but not her decision to take his leg. There was no help for that. He would’ve died.

Perhaps he would’ve preferred death?

“Your father wanted to die and the Navy gave him the means to do so.”

Erica shuddered, thinking about her mother’s vitriol, because it made her think of that last moment she’d seen her father—the haunted look in his eyes as he’d shipped out.

“Be good, Erica. You’re my girl.”

He’d held her tight, but it hadn’t been the same embrace she’d been used to. Three days later, he’d gone AWOL. Two weeks later, after a dishonorable discharge, he’d ended his life.

You did right by Thorne. Just like the surgeons saved your father’s life the first time he was injured. You saved Thorne’s life.

It was her job to save lives, not end them. His desire to die was not her concern any more. She’d saved his life and they’d taken him away. Captain Thorne Wilder was no longer her concern.

She’d done her duty by him and that was how she slept at night.

Erica sat down on her couch and slipped on her running shoes, lacing them up. There wasn’t much she could do. She wasn’t on duty today, unless there was an emergency, so she might as well make the best of it. Besides, running along a beach might be more challenging than running laps on a deck.

She stretched and headed out to a small tract of beach near her quarters. Though the sky was a bit dark, the sea wasn’t rough, and the waves washing up on shore would make her feel like she was out on the open sea. Back on the Hope.

As she jogged out toward the beach she got to see more of the base. It was pretty active for being on such a small island far off the mainland of Japan.

The hospital was certainly more active than being on the Hope. Unless they were responding to a disaster, there were stretches at sea where they weren’t utilizing their medical skills. Those stretches were filled with rigorous drills and simulations.

As she headed out onto the beach, she followed what appeared to be a well-worn path along the edge so she wouldn’t have to run in the sand.

Erica opted to go off the path and headed out onto the sand. It slowed her down, but she didn’t care. It would work her muscles more.

Besides, even though it was a bit overcast, it was still a beautiful day on the beach. The palm trees were swaying and the waves lapping against the shore made her smile.

As she rounded the bend to a small cove, she realized she wasn’t the only one who was on the beach at this moment and it made her stop in her tracks.

Thorne.

He was about fifteen feet away from her, in casual clothes, his arms crossed and his gaze locked on the water. She followed where he was looking and could see swimmers not too far out in the protected cove.

I have to get out of here.

She turned to leave but, as if sensing someone was watching him, his gaze turned to her. Even from a distance she could feel his stare piercing through her protective walls. A stare which would make any lesser man or woman cringe from its hard edge, but not her.

Of course, now she couldn’t turn and leave. He’d seen her, there was no denying that. He walked toward her fluidly as if there was no prosthesis there. So different from yesterday when he’d moved stiffly, his chiseled face awash with pain.

His face was expressionless, controlled and devoid of emotion.

So unlike the first time she’d met him, when he’d begged her not to take his leg and made her heart melt for him just a little bit.

“Commander, what a surprise to find you here,” he said pleasantly, but she could detect the undertone of mistrust. He was questioning why and she had the distinct feeling her appearance was an unwelcome one.

“It’s my day off and I thought a run along the beach would be nice.”

It was nice until I ran into you.

“Never heard someone mention a run as nice.” He raised an eyebrow.

Erica gritted her teeth. “I haven’t seen much of the base since I first arrived. I’m usually sleeping when the sun is out.”

Ha ha! Take that.

He nodded, but those blue eyes still held her, keeping her grounded to the spot as he assessed her. No wonder he’d been a Navy SEAL; apparently he could read people, make them uneasy and do it all with a cold, calculating calm. Even though it annoyed Erica greatly that it was directed at her at this moment, she couldn’t help but admire that quality.

It was why it made the SEALs the best of the best.

Only, she wasn’t some insurgent being interrogated or some new recruit. There was a reason she’d been one of the top students in her class at Annapolis.

She wasn’t weak. She was tough and stalwart and could take whatever was dished out. She’d told him as much.

This she could handle. It didn’t unnerve her. When he’d shown that moment of weakness, begging for his leg, that had shaken her resolve.

“No,” he finally said, breaking the tension. “I suppose you haven’t seen much of the base.”

Erica nodded. “No, I haven’t, but I’m not complaining.”

A smile broke across his face, his expression softened. “I know you’re not.”

“What’s going on out there?” she asked.

“SEAL training,” he said and then shifted his weight, wincing.

“I didn’t know this base was equipped for that.”

“Yes. It’s where I did my training.” He cleared his throat. “I mean …”

“I knew you were a SEAL.” She held her breath.

He feigned surprise. Captain Wilder might be good at interrogating and striking fear into subordinates, but he wasn’t much of an actor. “How?”

Erica wanted to tell him it was because she’d been the one who’d operated on him—that he’d been on her ship—only she didn’t think that would go over too well. He was obviously hiding from her that he had a prosthesis, as if such a thing would make her think differently of him.

Did he think it was a sign of weakness? If he did, he was foolish, because Erica saw it as a sign of strength. A testament to his sacrifice for his country. Only she kept that thought to herself. She doubted he’d be overly receptive to it right now. The last thing she needed was to tick him off and have him state she was mentally unstable or something.

So instead she lied. “I looked up your record before I shipped out. I wanted to know who my commanding officer was in Okinawa.”

His gaze narrowed; he didn’t believe her. She could tell by the way he held himself, the way his brow furrowed. Only he wasn’t going to admit it. “Is that so?”

“How else would I know?” she countered.

“Of course, that would be the only way you’d know.” Thorne crossed his arms and turned back to look at the ocean. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m not out there swimming with them?”

“No,” Erica said.

He glanced over at her. “No?”

“With all due respect, Captain Wilder, that’s not my business.”

“Yet knowing I am a former SEAL was?”

“Any good officer worth their salt tries to find out who they’re serving under. The reasons you left the SEALs or aren’t active in missions any longer is not my concern. Some things are better left unsaid.”

His cheeks flushed crimson and she wondered if she’d pushed it too far.

“You’re right. Well, I may be retired from the SEALs, but I still oversee some of their training. Anything to keep involved.”

Erica nodded. “A fine thing to be involved with.”

Thorne smiled again, just briefly. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from your run. If you continue on down the beach, there’s another nice path which wraps around the hospital and forks, one path leading into the village and the other back to base. If you have the time, be sure to check out the village and in particular the temple.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“When we’re off duty, you can call me Thorne.”

Now it was Erica’s turn to blush. It came out of the blue; it caught her off guard.

Maybe it was supposed to.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

“What harm is there in it?”

She didn’t see any harm. When she went on shore leave with other shipmates or was off duty she didn’t address them so formally. What was the difference here? The difference was she was never attracted to any of them, had never seen them so vulnerable and exposed.

“I’ll think about it.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I have to say, I’m hurt. Am I so monstrous?”

“No.” Erica grinned. “I only address my friends so informally.”

“I’m not your friend?”

Now it was her turn to cock an eyebrow. “Really? You’re asking me if we’re friends?”

“I guess I am.” He took a step closer to her and her pulse raced. She’d thought he was handsome when she’d first seen him, but that was when he’d been injured. Now he was healthy, towering over her and so close. She was highly attracted to him, she couldn’t deny that. He stirred something deep inside her, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Yearning.

There had been a couple other men since Captain Seaton, but not many, and none in the Navy. She didn’t have time or interest.

Until she met Thorne.

Thorne was dangerous and, being her commanding officer, he was very taboo.

“We barely know each other, Captain. How can we be friends?”

“Easy. We can start by using our given names. I’m Thorne.” And then he took her hand in his. It was strong and sent a shock of electricity through her.

Get a grip on yourself.

She needed to rein this in. This was how she’d fallen for Captain Seaton. He’d wooed her. She’d been blinded by hero worship, admiration, and she wouldn’t let that happen again.

“We’re not friends,” Erica said quickly.

“We can be.” His blue eyes twinkled mischievously. He was playing with her and she didn’t like it. Thorne ran so hot and cold. He was trying to manipulate her.

“I don’t think so, Captain.” She suppressed a chuckle of derision and jogged past him, laughing to herself as she continued her run down the beach and perfectly aware that his eyes were on her.

Thorne watched her jog away and he couldn’t help but admire her. Not many had stood up to him. He had the reputation of being somewhat of a jerk, to put it politely. He’d always been tough as nails. As Liam had always said. Yet Liam had gone straight into Special Ops and Thorne had become a medic. He wasn’t without feelings.

He hadn’t always been so closed off, but when you saw your identical twin brother lying broken on the ground after an insurgent attack, after he’d pushed you out of the way, then pieces of you died. Locking those parts of him away, the parts which still mourned his brother, was the only way to survive.





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