SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Don’t laugh,” she said and dipped a cloth in cool water, dabbing it over his forehead and cheeks. “I have to check on my other patients.”

  “Don’t be kissing on them, now.”

  She smiled. “I promise I won’t.” His play at jealousy made her warm all over in the cool interior of the aircraft. Moving between respiratory equipment and IV drips, she checked the Germans’ vital signs for the sixth time since they’d taken off. Unlike the SEAL, they were fast asleep, sedated, their faces bruised and swollen from torture by the Taliban. She had a hard time forgiving the enemy in the litter near the rear of the plane and was glad she didn’t have to treat him. If she was assigned to, she would. But she didn’t have to like it.

  After she’d done due diligence for the German soldiers, she returned to Caesar’s side and offered him another sip of water.

  He took it gladly. “I’d rather have that coffee I mentioned back at Bagram.”

  “When you’re up and moving again, I’ll consider it.”

  He braced his hands on the litter, his muscles bunching.

  Heart fluttering, Erin placed her hand on his shoulder. “Be still. The more you move now, the more chance of permanently paralyzing yourself.”

  “Want that coffee,” he grunted.

  “I’ll get you a cup as soon as you’re out of surgery and the doctor okays it. I promise.”

  “I figured you’d be right back on the plane once we land.”

  “I’ll see if I can pull some strings.” She checked the tube leading from the fluid bag to his arm. “You should sleep. I’m increasing your sedative.”

  He reached for her wrist. His grip held surprising strength for someone who’d just been in surgery. “What did I tell you about moving?” she chastised him.

  “I want you to know I have no regrets. What we have means something.”

  Her cheeks burned. Erin avoided his gaze, stared down at where his big hand held her small wrist and she shrugged. “Don’t make too much of everything.”

  “You wouldn’t have come to see me off if it meant nothing.”

  How did she relate her premonition? “I had to see you again. I got that bad feeling that something wasn’t right. I couldn’t explain it, but I had to see you before you left.”

  “Did you think I wasn’t coming back?”

  Her throat closed and the backs of her eyes burned. She nodded.

  Caesar snorted. “After that kiss, nothing would keep me away.”

  She glanced around to see if anyone else was listening to their conversation. The respiratory therapist talked with the flight surgeon on the other side of the German patient. For all intents and purposes, she and Caesar were alone. “The kiss didn’t mean anything.”

  “If it didn’t mean anything, you wouldn’t have given it to me.” He smiled. “The beauty is that you can’t take it back.” His fingers tightened on her wrist. “I’ll get better soon and I’ll want another, mi amor.”

  “That can’t happen. You’re an enlisted SEAL. I’m an Air Force officer. It won’t work.”

  “You’re a woman, I’m a man.” His words slowed. “We were meant for each other.”

  He loosened his grip and smiled, his eyes closing for a moment. “Besides, I liked the way your lips felt on mine. I’ll dream about them.”

  She pulled up the sheet and blanket around him. “You do that.” In the meantime, she’d stand watch and make sure he made it to Landstuhl alive. Hopefully, once there he’d get the attention he deserved to save his legs from paralysis. Then maybe she would kiss him again. In private. Away from prying eyes and commanding officers bent on enforcing regulations.

  Caesar woke once more as they offloaded the patients at their destination at Ramstein Air Force Base. He was loaded into an ambulance and transported to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center where a surgical staff awaited his arrival. He didn’t see Erin again and he really wished he’d had the chance to see her one more time as a whole man. If he came out of surgery paralyzed for life, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He sure as hell wouldn’t expect her to hang around a cripple. He wouldn’t wish that kind of life on any woman.

  As he was wheeled into the operating room, he looked up at the surgical team and smiled. “Do your magic. I plan on walking out of this hospital.”

  The surgeon nodded, his eyes serious over the surgical mask he wore. He tilted his head toward the anesthesiologist and a mask was pressed to Caesar’s face.

  Within seconds, his world went black.

  Hours, maybe days later, he struggled to wake, a voice calling his name, nagging him to open his eyes. “Can’t a guy get a nap around here?” he grumbled.

  “Sure, after you prove you’re alive and well. Wake up for a minute, and you can go back to sleep.”

  Soft laughter warmed his insides. He opened one eye. The light shining from the overhead fixture formed a halo around the red-haired angel bending over him. His other eye gladly opened. “Ah, mi amor.” He smiled up at Erin. “What are you doing in the operating room?”

  “I’m not in the operating room.” She still wore the same clothes as the flight from Bagram and she had dark circles beneath her eyes. “You’re in recovery.”

  He stared up at the ceiling, which meant he was lying on his back. “I take it they got the last piece of shrapnel?”

  “They did.” She held up a small, clear plastic vial with a tiny metal shard inside. “They saved it for you. A souvenir of your mission.”

  “Fuck the souvenir.” He pushed up on his elbows and glanced down at his feet.

  “Go ahead. Move them.” Eyebrows raised, she grinned.

  He concentrated on his toes first, his brain sending a message to his right foot to wiggle them. His right toes wiggled.

  A huge weight lifted from his shoulders and he lay back, laughing. “Thank God.”

  “The doc said you might have a little swelling that could interfere with your spinal cord and may cause some temporary paralysis, but he predicts a full recovery.”

  “How long? Days, weeks, or months of therapy?”

  “Days.” She waved toward his legs. “Try moving your leg.”

  He bent his knee, the effort harder than usual, but he could perform the action.

  “You’re still suffering the effects of the anesthetics and pain meds. When they’ve worn off and you’re rested, you’ll be able to get out of bed and move around with assistance.”

  He let his knee straighten and he stared up at the ceiling, grinning.

  “Thought you might be happy about that,” Erin said.

  “I’ll be even happier when I’m standing on my own two feet, holding you in my arms.”

  A frown wrinkled her brow and she shook her head. “I told you, that isn’t likely to happen again.”

  He eased up on his elbows again. “The standing or the holding?”

  “The standing, yes. Holding?” Her cheeks flushed with color. “Not happening. I promised coffee. Nothing else.”

  “Bella dama. You present a challenge.”

  Her lips firmed. “I’m not a game or a conquest.”

  “No game, mi amor. But a challenge, nonetheless.”

  “I’m leaving now.”

  “How soon until you have to be back at Bagram?”

  “I’m staying for the next three days. They’re short-handed in the ICU, and I’ll be helping out on the nightshift.”

  “Good. We’re on for coffee tomorrow morning when you get off duty.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Only if you can get up on your own by then. I wouldn’t push it. Talk to the doctor when he stops by and see if he’s comfortable with you moving around so soon after surgery.”

  “I’m feeling better already.” He started to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Seriously?” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “If I have to, I’ll have them sedate you. You have to give yourself time to recover. Surgery always entails a bit of inflammation and swelling. And you don’t want to pull out the stitc
hes.”

  “Fine. I’ll wait until the doc gives me the okay. But that better be by morning. I’ll have my morning coffee with you, if doing so kills me.”

  “Let’s not take it that far. I’d rather delay coffee for a few days than have you die.”

  A dull roar came from the television set mounted on the wall in the corner of the room.

  Caesar glanced at the screen. A mob of people gathered around the gate of what looked like a military base. Squinting, he read the name on the gate. Ramstein. “Did I miss anything while I was out?”

  Erin lifted the remote and clicked the mute button. “The Germans are angry we have the Taliban leader responsible for the torture and deaths of their soldiers. They want us to hand his head over on a platter or send him out and let them deal with him.”

  His fist clenched. “I don’t blame them. We walked in on them smashing a prisoner’s face. With the butt of a rifle.”

  Erin nodded. “The soldier you’re talking about was transferred to a German hospital. From what little information we got, he’s struggling to survive. The damage to his face and throat will take a lot of surgeries to repair. If he survives.”

  “You got him here?”

  “Barely. It was touch and go for a while. The other CCAT team worked hard on the flight over to keep his heart going.”

  “That Taliban bastard deserves to die a painful death,” Caesar said. “He doesn’t deserve the best medical care the U.S. has to offer.”

  “I agree.” She stared at the mob on the screen, shaking her head. “But if there’s a chance of getting intel from him, we might save other American lives.”

  Caesar jerked his chin at the screen. “What’s going on out there?”

  “A couple hundred Germans are lined up at the gate, protesting. Their numbers have been growing since the television station broadcast the news earlier today.”

  “Great. Just what we need. A riot at the hospital.” Caesar pushed a hand through his hair, wishing he could get into a shower and clean the desert sand off his skin and scalp.

  “You can’t worry about it. The military police will keep them at bay.” Erin returned to his bedside, checked his IV drip and fluffed his pillow.

  Unwilling to let her move away, he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her downward.

  “Caesar, you shouldn’t be moving so much.”

  “Then stop resisting.” He brought her closer until their lips were less than an inch apart. “You know you want to kiss me.”

  “No, I don’t,” she whispered, her breath puffing against his lips. Then she leaned forward and brushed her mouth across his. “Get some sleep.”

  His lips heated from her touch. “Only if you get some too.”

  “I plan on it. They’ve set aside a room with a bed and a shower I get to use for the next eight hours. I’m on duty tonight at eleven.”

  “You need more sleep than that.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She straightened. “As long as I leave now. I’ll see you for coffee in the morning.”

  “Count on it.” Caesar waited until the door to his room closed behind her before he laid back and closed his eyes. After a deep breath, he opened them again, lifted his head and moved his toes again.

  Satisfied his legs were working as they should, he slipped into a troubled sleep. Twice during the day, a nurse entered the room, checked his vitals, drawing blood once and generally waking him. He knew sleep was the best cure for his body and he forced himself to close his eyes each time, when he’d rather get up and find Erin and crawl in bed by her side. His mind groggy with drugs and sleep, he had enough sense to remind himself that Erin was worth taking it slow. He didn’t want to scare her off.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  Thankfully, a bus ran twenty-four/seven between the hospital and her assigned lodging. Any other day, she’d have walked the short distance, but Erin was tired and more than ready to sleep. She checked in at the desk and trudged up to her room.

  Exhausted from being on her feet for over twenty hours, Erin showered quickly, slipped into a T-shirt and shorts and climbed into the bed. As she pulled up the sheet and blanket over her shoulders, she registered the echoes of the crowd chanting and shouting outside the gate, making falling to sleep immediately difficult.

  Photographs of the injured German soldiers had circulated on the news, igniting anger and a powerful thirst for justice. The people outside wanted to exact their pound of flesh from the Taliban leader.

  Forcing the angry mob and their chants and shouts to the back of her mind, Erin closed her eyes and remembered the way Caesar’s hands felt on her body, the way he’d made love to her wildly, passionately, ensuring she was as satisfied as he was.

  Everything about her attraction to the SEAL was wrong. Granted, they weren’t in the same chain of command, and they weren’t even in the same branch of service. Still, he was enlisted and she was an officer. She loved her job. Loved that she helped soldiers make it home alive. If she lost her commission, she’d be out of the military.

  Her lips still tingled from their kiss and she burned with the aching need to repeat what they’d shared behind the supply building at Bagram, her desire pushing her beyond reason. God, what was she doing to herself? If she had a lick of sense, she’d have gotten on the next flight back to Bagram and forgotten about Caesar and the way he made her want to ignore all the rules.

  He was a goddamn SEAL, for heaven’s sake! He’d charm his way into her panties with his muscles and tattoos and as soon as he was reassigned, maybe sooner, he’d be on to the next girl. Adrenaline junkies like SEALs and pilots were notorious for multiple affairs and real commitment issues.

  So? Why couldn’t she let herself enjoy the forbidden? They weren’t in Afghanistan. If they happened to kiss and make love in Germany, their actions wouldn’t be completely against the rules. Again, he wasn’t in her chain of command. For an officer and an enlisted man to hook up wasn’t completely unusual.

  Despite being bone-tired, Erin tossed and turned until she finally fell into an exhausted sleep. The alarm on her watch woke her six hours later. She clawed her way out of the sleep coma and struggled upright. She’d promised to help out in ICU over the graveyard shift. She’d deployed from Landstuhl, so her credentials were up to date with the hospital, and they needed her to help out. They were short two ICU nurses and another had called in sick earlier that day.

  With a sigh, she pushed back the covers and got out of the bed. With only twenty minutes until she went on duty, she didn’t have time to stop by Caesar’s room. She’d have to wait until morning and the promised cup of coffee. With quick, efficient strokes, she brushed back her hair into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, pinned the loose strands in place and shook the wrinkles out of the clean flight suit she’d brought on board the C-17 in her backpack. After dressing quickly, she laced her boots and headed for the hospital and the Intensive Care Unit.

  Shift change took place and she was assigned to two patients. One of them was the Taliban leader, Hassani Nurabi. She had to push aside her loathing of all he represented to provide for his care, telling herself he was just another human being, not a monster that should be destroyed. And if any possibility existed of getting information out of him to locate and rescue the four Americans, he could be worth saving.

  The night dragged on. Thankfully, her patients remained stable and other than changing IV bags, administering medications, checking drainage tubes and vital signs, the shift was uneventful. She met with the nurses at the nurses’ station. The woman in charge was a friend, Sheila Kenner.

  “I got word from base security to be on our toes. The German public is in an uproar about Hassani being in our hospital. They want us to turn him over to their government to deal with him.”

  “I saw some of the TV footage. Is security worried the crowd will storm the gates and hospital to get their man?” Erin asked. “I mean, there really aren’t any gates to hold them back. Just a few security guards, wh
o’d probably let them through if they got mean.”

  “Cyber intel indicates increased activity with the Taliban and Al-Qaeda elements active in the area.” Sheila brought up an email on her computer screen and pointed to the announcement. “Nothing substantive, but they warned us to be aware.”

  On foreign soil, receiving threat warnings from the base security staff wasn’t unusual. Erin nodded. “Will do.”

  At seven the following morning, she went through shift change with the nurse coming on duty. Once she’d handed over her responsibilities, Erin hurried to the ward where Caesar was recovering.

  His bed was empty and freshly made with clean sheets, ready for the next patient.

  Her heart skipped several beats.

  “If you’re looking for the SEAL, he’s in the hospital cafeteria.”

  Erin spun to face a nurse wearing green scrubs with a nametag that read Reynolds. “The cafeteria?”

  The young woman smiled. “I had a hard time convincing him this morning was too soon to make the trek, but the man was stubborn. As soon as he heard the doc’s okay, he was on his feet before the doc left the floor. And he’s been up five times since. At this rate, he’ll return to duty in days.” The nurse tilted her head. “You’re one of the CCATT nurses who brought him in, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am.” Erin didn’t want to be rude, but she also didn’t want to hang around and talk to the chatty nurse. But she couldn’t come up with an excuse to leave.

  Reynolds grinned. “He’s quite the charmer. I wonder if he’s married.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “He doesn’t wear a ring, but then I wouldn’t expect a SEAL to wear one.” She patted the sheets. “I’ve always been a sucker for a man with tattoos. He was telling me about the different ones and the meaning behind them. I especially like that he has the SEAL Trident on his shoulder. It’s impressive.”

  Her patience dissolving, Erin stepped aside. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to.” She didn’t, unless you counted having coffee with a SEAL who didn’t mind telling stories about the tattoos on his body to every strange woman he encountered. Caesar was a natural flirt, which only went to prove her fears about the man.