The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe

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The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 132

by Kathryn Le Veque


  A little awestruck, she pushed her way through the sea of uniforms and noticed that, outside the emergency room doors, reporters were jockeying for positions as military police kept them at bay. It was a chaotic scene and she found her irritation blossoming at the pushy officers and staff. They looked at her as if she didn’t belong; hell, she worked here. She gave a snotty young ensign a piece of her elbow when he didn’t move out of her way fast enough.

  She finally reached the nurse’s station, letting out an irritated sigh. The other nurses at the station were busy with their own cases as she took a seat and logged on to the computer.

  “This is unbelievable.” she exclaimed softly.

  The Asian nurse next to her shook her head. “Can you believe this? You’d think the President was here.”

  Jeremy tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder and re-secured the rubber band. When it wasn’t being contained or pulled back, she had a head full of soft spiral waves.

  “What is all this about, anyway?” Jeremy asked as she began to review some of the current patient charts. “I heard they brought in a cabinet member with chest pains.”

  “No,” the other woman said firmly. “They brought in a CIA bigwig.”

  Jeremy looked confused and finally just shook her head. They would never get a straight answer from the Navy and they knew it.

  “Jeremy, can you take Room Three? Got a clean leg wound there.” A harried young doctor approached the station.

  “Sure, Al,” she said, standing up from the computer and slinging her stethoscope around her neck. “What kind of a leg wound?”

  “Bullet,” he replied, obviously in a rush. “Passed clean through his thigh. He just needs it cleaned and a stitch or two. I am prescribing him antibiotics and a painkiller right now.”

  Jeremy left the station, pushing through the naval personnel and wishing somebody would explode a bomb in the middle of them; anything to be rid of their presence. She may have been in the Navy, but she didn’t like the haughty brass that went with it and she really hated it when they invaded her quiet hospital sanctuary like they owned the place.

  The hallway behind the nurse’s station was relatively quiet and she fought her irritation down as she went to Room Three. It was not strange to be tending a bullet wound on a naval base and she didn’t give it a second thought. Unconcerned with her impending duty, she looked forward to being done with it and getting off shift in a couple of hours.

  At Room Three, she took a sharp turn and yanked back the shielding curtain. There was a body on the gurney, but she didn’t look up as she went to the sink and washed her hands. Her manner very brisk and business-like because those fools in the waiting room had pissed her off and she still wasn’t entirely calm. She was usually much more friendly when she first entered an examining room.

  Drying her hands, she slipped on a pair of latex gloves and read the patient chart on the computer monitor before turning around.

  There was a man on the gurney. But not just any man; it was a very large man dressed in filthy fatigues. He was dirty and smeared with grime and blood, and there was a huge patch of gauze over his left thigh. He looked as if he had seen the wrong end of a fight.

  Sighing, she assumed she was looking at another victim of an enlisted barroom brawl.

  Jeremy did everything but look at his face, her eyes roving over the massive body that was almost too big to believe. But as her gaze trailed up the length of him and came to rest on his hazel-gold eyes, it was as if she had been kicked in the guts. In spite of his disheveled appearance and torn clothing, he was positively gorgeous. The kind of man who makes your jaw drop before you can control it. As her cousin, Jennifer, would say, Yeah, I’d have his baby.

  The power of speech actually left her for a moment as he gazed back openly, yet it was not a leering sort of stare. It was honest and friendly and…deeply embarrassed, Jeremy hoped her shock didn’t show.

  “Hi,” he smiled weakly.

  “Hi yourself,” she managed to squeeze out. “What in the hell happened to you?”

  He laughed softly and laid his head back on the pillow as she came around the gurney and lifted up the gauze.

  “Been in a fight,” he replied vaguely.

  “Hmmm,” she cocked an eyebrow and threw the bloody gauze in the trash, realizing her stomach had a giddy quiver to it. “I hope you won.”

  He gave her a faint nod, studying her intently. God, if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. When those pale green eyes looked at him he felt as if he were being sucked in by some huge unseen vacuum. He thought he had forgotten how to breathe when he had first caught a glimpse of her. All he could think was that it was a good thing his vitals had already been taken, because he knew his blood pressure was now through the ceiling.

  Jeremy put on a pair of pretty glasses she always used for close-up work and settled down on a stool, entirely aware of his hot eyes on her. With sweaty palms, she cut away a good portion of his pants in an attempt to gain a clear field, but finally gave up and cut the entire pant-leg off.

  When she examined the wound closer, she was aware that his legs were as big around as small trees and an involuntary shudder went through her. She tried to ignore the tingling in her fingers when she touched his skin. Unnerved and disturbed by her less-than-professional reaction, she cleared her throat and tried the stern approach.

  “Well, commander,” she noted the insignia chain hanging around his neck. “It’s a clean wound, alright. I hope you got the guy who did this to you.”

  He was laying on his back on the gurney and put his hands over his face in a weary gesture. Jeremy’s heart nearly stopped at the pure size of his arms.

  “Will I live?” he deliberately avoided answering her statement.

  “You will.” She went over to the counter and began putting a few things together. “A few stitches and you’ll be done.”

  He looked over at her, her back turned to him. Dressed in her nursing uniform, which could be less than flattering, she wore it like a goddess. She had the most fantastic ass he had ever seen. He was quickly coming to realize that this woman was physically perfect and he fought off the urge to groan with sheer pleasure. He was disturbed with himself for the reaction; he simply wasn’t the leering type.

  “Great,” he replied with a sigh, still watching her and wanting to keep the conversation going. What else could he say to hear her respond in that sweet, honeyed voice? “By the way, what’s to do in this little town of yours?”

  She glanced over at him. “Where are you from, sailor boy?”

  He smiled. “Norfolk’s my base. How long have you been stationed on the coast?”

  She came back over to him with a hypodermic and a few other things. “Ever since I got out of nursing school, about six years,” she swabbed his skin with alcohol. “My dad was in the Navy and insisted I join up, so I really had no choice.”

  He didn’t flinch when she injected him. “Same here,” he said. “My brothers and I had to go the same route – Annapolis and a naval career. My dad would have disowned us if we had chosen anything else.”

  She smiled for the first time and his heart thumped madly against his ribs. “Maybe we have the same father,” she said, concentrating on her task.

  “Doubt it,” he was staring openly at her. “My dad didn’t breed offspring as beautiful as you.”

  Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink as she gave him a stitch. “Strange you should say that, since my dad always called me Ribs. I don’t equate ribs with beautiful.”

  “Ribs?” he repeated, amused. “Why in the hell did he call you that?”

  She flicked her eyes to him, embarrassed, as she threaded another stitch. “Because they always stuck out. When I was a kid, I used to like to run around with my shirt off and my ribs were so defined they looked like steps. I looked like a poster child for the Starving Children of the World.”

  He grinned broadly. “Do you still run around with your shirt off?”
>
  She fought off a grin. “None of your business.”

  He laughed softly, watching her lovely face as she concentrated. Whatever she had shot him full of was taking effect and making him drowsy and he was having difficulty focusing. Wildly curious to know her name without asking, he thought he could be cool and read her nametag without her noticing.

  She glanced up at him and saw him blinking his eyes rapidly, staring at her chest. He had gorgeous golden eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Oh… nothing,” he replied sheepishly, laying his head back down. So much for being cool. He only hoped she didn’t think he was staring at her boobs.

  “Trying to see my ribs?” she raised a disapproving brow.

  He shook his head, fighting off a grin. “No, I swear it.”

  She smirked, turning back to his leg. “My name really is Jeremy. It’s not a misprint.”

  “Come again?”

  She looked at him. “You were reading my nametag, and my name really is Jeremy. I was supposed to be a boy.”

  She swore his eyes turned smoky and intense as he gazed back at her. “You are definitely not a boy,” he said.

  Jeremy felt a chill run up her spine at his tone and she forced herself to look away because she knew she was blushing madly. God, she’d only known this man a matter of minutes but already he was affecting her like no one ever had.

  “I’m Wade Wolfe,” he said after a moment. “Nice to meet you, Nurse Jeremy.”

  She grinned. “‘Nice to meet you, too’ she says as she sticks a needle in his leg.”

  He smiled at her humor, still watching that incredible face. Honestly, he could not take his eyes off her. He was seized with the urge to know everything about her and wracked his brain madly for a line that would not sound as if he was trying to get into her pants. It was the strangest, most powerful reaction he had ever had to a woman.

  “Do you live on base?” he asked casually.

  “Yes,” she said as she had him roll onto his right side so she could get to the exit wound. “But my dad has a little vacation house on Coronado Island and I spend a lot of my time there.”

  “Ah, yes, Coronado,” he said fondly. “I remember it well.”

  “You do?” she asked, looking at him. “When were you there?”

  He drew in a long, deep breath, feeling the sedative. “A while ago. Training.”

  “Oh,” she said, sensing he was being evasive. “Well, you should check it out on an off-duty level sometime. It’s a neat place, especially the Del.”

  “The hotel? I have seen it from the outside,” he said, putting one of those massive arms over his forehead.

  Jeremy saw the arm and involuntarily shuddered, forcing herself back to her work when what she really wanted to do was fondle his bicep. “Go inside it next time. They have a great restaurant.”

  “Whenever I have been in San Diego it’s always been on a stopover,” he replied. “Maybe someday I’ll take a few days off here and take your advice.”

  “Well, if you do, let me know,” she said, giving him another injection. “I’ll tell you all the hip spots.”

  She had meant it innocently and he knew it, yet it was the opening he was looking for. He could only hope she didn’t think he was a womanizing jerk for being so forward.

  “Then I am letting you know now,” he said. “I have got forty-eight hours before I go back to Virginia and not a damn thing to do. That is, if you are not working or have other plans. Maybe you could show me the hip spots?”

  Her head came up and she looked at him blankly. Truth was, she was stunned he had literally asked her out, but she made it an absolute rule to never date a patient or any person she worked with for obvious reasons. Her dilemma was tremendous because she definitely wanted to see him again, yet she didn’t want to break her rule of self-preservation.

  But much to her dismay, she found herself responding. “No, I’m not busy. Today’s my Friday and I have got the next two days off.”

  He grinned triumphantly. “Outstanding.”

  But her head went down rapidly, too rapidly, angry at herself for responding to his invitation. Why had she agreed so readily?

  Wade was afraid he had offended her as he watched the top of her lowered head. As soon as she responded to his invitation, she seemed to regret it. He felt a stab of uncertainty and genuine disappointment.

  “Hey, look, if you had something else to do, I totally understand,” he said quickly. “I’m probably not going to be much good with this bum leg. We can take a rain check.”

  She put in the final stitch. “I’m not busy,” she repeated.

  He was back to feeling hopeful. “How about dinner?”

  She looked at him. “Tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  She fought off a smile. “I’d love to, but you really aren’t going to be any good tonight. I just shot you full of Demerol and you are going to be floating in a few minutes so we’ll have to another night. Got anybody coming for you?”

  “My team’s here,” he replied.

  She cocked an eyebrow at him, putting her instruments back on the tray. “Team?” she repeated, glancing at his wound again. The only personnel in the Navy that referred to their comrades as a ‘team’ were SEALs and she caught on quickly. “Are you a SEAL?”

  He lay his head down on his arm wearily. “Could be.”

  She moved over to her tray and thoughtfully moved to the sink, dumping everything into it. “Commander Wade Wolfe,” she mumbled to herself, then turned around. “You are not the guy who just led that raid into Columbia, are you? The one they call the Fox?”

  “The Wolf,” he corrected her indifferently. Now that she figured out who he was, she was probably going to march right out without another word and he resigned himself to that fact.

  But she didn’t leave; instead, she stood over by the sink and grinned knowingly. “I shouldn’t have asked you that. Are you going to kill me now because I know too much?”

  He tilted his head back to look at her. “No, but I might spank you for being a smart ass.”

  She laughed and his heart did that strange thumping thing again. He would have attributed it to the Demerol except her laughter made him feel like smiling, too. Not the usual drug reaction.

  “Then you must be why half of the Pentagon is out in the waiting room,” she said, mildly impressed. “Everybody wants to know firsthand what happened, huh?”

  He shrugged, not really committing one way or the other. She went back over to him and pushed him onto his back, noticing how wonderfully firm and taut he was under her hands. She wanted to run her fingers all over his naked chest, but she settled for dressing the wound instead. His eyes were closed as she worked and she was sure he had fallen asleep, disappointed because the conversation was over.

  The Wolf. In military circles, the guy was famous, or infamous, if you were the enemy. Rumor had it that he was so good, foreign governments tried to hire him out. Gazing down at the man, Jeremy could only see that he was incredibly handsome and built like a god. And strangely…familiar, in a dreamy sort of way, although she knew she had never met him. She would have remembered a face like that. She could hardly wait to tell her father who she had worked on. And a bullet wound, yet.

  Wade’s eyes were closed but not because he was asleep. He was very much awake, feeling her expert hands touch his thigh, her soft fingers on his skin and it was the most amazing, erotic experience he’d ever had and prayed she didn’t notice. Fortunately, his t-shirt was torn and baggy, and hung over his crotch, or he was sure she would slap him. He felt like a pervert with his reaction to her, but in his heart he knew perversion was far from the truth. This woman, somehow, touched him. Literally, of course, but in another, more personal way as well.

  She finished but was still looking down at him, studying his face. His breathing had become deep and regular and she knew it was the painkiller kicking in. She sighed; God, he was beautiful.

  She br
oke away from his face and started to step away from the gurney when his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her arm. She yelped, startled, and his eyes slowly opened to look at her.

  “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” his voice was a whisper. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” she replied, feeling his warm hand on her arm like a scalding iron. “Just try not to get shot anymore, okay? Next time it could be worse.”

  “It has been worse, but I’ll try. For you, I will try.”

  She smiled and he returned it. “Can you let go of me so that I can throw this stuff away?” She indicated the bloody gauze in her hands.

  “If I let you go, will you come back?”

  “I won’t leave you.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  He lifted his eyebrow, feigning reluctance, but his hand dropped back onto the gurney and as she moved to the trash can, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing over to the doorway, she could see several men crowded in it. One man, a very handsome blond, looked at her.

  “Can we come in?” he asked, his voice deep and pleasant.

  “Sure,” she said, laying the chart down. “He’s doped up, but he’s ready to go as soon as I get his prescription.”

  The man smiled openly at her and moved into the room, followed by the rest of the group. She counted seven in all. At the sound of their voices, Wade’s eyes flew open.

  “Boys,” he greeted with an exaggerated drawl.

  The blond looked down at him critically. “You faker. Now get up and walk the hell out of here.”

  “Leave me alone,” Wade mumbled; the Demerol was hitting him hard. “I am staying here, all night, with her.” He pointed limply to Jeremy.

  They all looked at her and she was suddenly extremely self-conscious. Feeling her face grow hot, she picked up the chart and walked around to the other side of the gurney, opposite his team.

 

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