by Janice Lynn
He wanted to step into her fire and go up in smoke. Rich, deep, satisfied smoke.
“Ame—Dr Stockton,” he recalled just in time, climbing onto the elliptical on the opposite side of her, reminding himself to take baby steps, not to push too much too soon or his hopes for the future would be what went up in smoke.
Without glancing toward him, a scowl was her only response.
Cole reminded himself not to jump the gun. Eventually, Amelia would come around, would see that he was the same old Cole who had once been such an integral part of her life. He hoped. He desperately wanted that position back. But this time he didn’t want her to see him as her sister’s fiancé and he sure didn’t want her feeling like his baby sister.
Not that he believed she’d kissed him that way. No, Amelia had wanted him the way a woman wanted a man when the chemistry is crackling.
They’d crackled.
“Hi,” a pretty Asian woman on Amelia’s right called, leaning forward. “Amelia was just telling me you’re the new surgeon.” The woman ignored the I’m-going-to-kill-you glare coming her way from Amelia and gave him a welcoming nod without missing a beat on her machine. “I’m Suzie Long, one of the two dentists. Welcome aboard.”
Grateful for a friendly face in enemy territory, he flashed a smile. “Nice to meet you, Suzie. Or should I say Dr Long?”
Blowing out an exasperated huff, Amelia muttered something unintelligible under her breath.
“Unless I’m telling you to open wide,” the petite woman flirted, giving him a friendly smile, “it’s Suzie.”
Liking her, Cole laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
In between them, Amelia stopped exercising, waited for inertia to catch up with her machine. The moment the movement stilled enough for safe dismount, she climbed off. Without a word to him and only a glare at the woman she’d been chatting with until he’d joined them, she walked off. Picking up a gym bag, she took out a sports bottle and took a long drink.
Cole tried not to watch. But he did. When it came to Amelia he couldn’t help but watch. His throat grew dry, withering him with thirst. A thirst he desperately wanted to quench, but which only her lips could quell.
Medical school had trained him to do without sleep. The navy had trained him to do without basic life necessities. Neither had prepared him for denying his need for Amelia.
“You’re so barking up the wrong tree,” the dentist advised, following his gaze to where Amelia tightened the lid and dropped the water bottle back into her bag. “Not meaning to be blunt, but she can’t stand you.”
“I know.” He sighed. “She has reason.”
“She told me.”
Cole cut his gaze to her. “She told you?”
“About her sister and you? Yep.”
That surprised him.
Apparently reading his mind, the woman went on. “I doubt she’s told anyone else you were a runaway groom, though. Shame on you for that, by the way!” Her smile softened her reprimand. “Amelia and I are bunk mates.”
Runaway groom? He cringed at the description. Yes, he supposed that’s how Amelia saw him. He glanced toward the woman two machines down. “You’re Amelia’s bunk mate? That’s good to know.”
Her expression was positively wicked. “In case you ever want to visit?”
“In case I ever want to visit,” he repeated, his gaze going back to where Amelia lifted a dumbbell from its rack. Her toned flesh flexed as she extended the weight, muscles shifting temptingly with her movements, making Cole think of other ways her muscles would shift with movement.
Snorting, Suzie’s gaze followed his. “Yeah, right. She would have you court-martialed if you so much as made a pass at her. Even if she didn’t think you were the scum stuck to the bottom of the boat, she wouldn’t be interested in an on board romance. Her career means too much to her for that.”
Not that on board sexual activities didn’t occur, but one could lose everything if caught. Much better to take their time aboard ship to reestablish their friendship and earn her trust, as planned. Not destroy his career as well.
Besides, the only reason his request to serve aboard Amelia’s ship had been granted was that they both valued their careers enough not to put them as risk. Of that, he had no doubt. When they were at port call, off ship, well, all was fair in lust and war, but Cole hadn’t pointed that out.
Suzie eyed him expectantly, waiting for his comeback, waiting for him to tell her what she wanted to know. What she already knew because she could see his interest in Amelia as plain as the nose on his face.
If he played his cards right, she might just be on his side. An ally behind enemy lines. Something he hadn’t counted on. Not beyond the person who’d helped him get on board.
A slow smile spread across his face. “What I want to know is whether or not you think I’m the scum on the bottom of the boat, too?”
Obviously pleased by his response, the woman laughed. “I think you’re far worse than the scum on the bottom of the boat, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to like you, anyway.”
His gaze went back again to where Amelia curled a free weight, her muscles flexing beneath her sleek skin.
“At least that’ll be one person in your room who likes me.”
But if the way Amelia kept casting surreptitious glances toward him was anything to go on, she felt the chemistry between them that hadn’t let up with time and distance.
He understood she was confused. Understood her dislike of him. Understood she was going to combat the underlying attraction between them.
Cole was ready for the fight of his lifetime and when all was said and done, he’d win Amelia’s forgiveness.
The stakes were too high not to win.
CHAPTER FOUR
COLE had been on board the USS Benjamin Franklin for two weeks and had fallen into a routine. He scheduled procedures early morning, finished in the surgery suite on most days by ten, and then hung out in the sick ward “helping” until all patients had been examined.
Amelia could do without his kind of help.
His kind of help distracted her.
Made her feel as if she were in need of a doctor herself.
Tachycardia, shortness of breath, dizziness, flushing, mental cloudiness, thick tongue, tingling breasts.
Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic that he was having such an effect on her body. Her breasts did not tingle. It was more like an itch. And not the kind she needed scratched. At least, not that kind of scratching. No, it was more the allergic-to-jerks, stay-away-from-me type of itch. A reaction one had when something was harmful to their health. Yeah, right.
“I heard Dr Carter—” the other medical doctor on board “—wasn’t feeling well and you’re by yourself. Need my help?”
Think of the devil and there he was, looking way too handsome in his scrubs. His stethoscope dangled around his neck and he looked the picture of good health. Not like he’d barely slept for the past two weeks because of a disturbing presence from his past. Irritated that she was the one looking like the walking dead, she gritted her teeth.
“No.” What she needed was him off her ship so she could get back to her regularly scheduled life program.
“Fine.” His smile never faltered.
No matter how many times she cut him off, he just kept smiling, kept being nice, kept coming back for more. He was driving her crazy, making her remember too many of the reasons she’d fallen under his spell to begin with.
“I’ll see who’s in triage and take care of whoever I can.”
During his short time on board, Cole had gained the respect of the medical crew by jumping in to help wherever needed. He triaged patients, took blood pressures, gave shots, whatever.
Not only had he gained the crew’s respect, he’d gained their friendship. Everyone liked him. Except Amelia.
“Hey, Dr Stockton, is it okay if Dr Stanley uses bay two? He’s going to repack an abscess.”
Cole stepped back into the sick bay, holding
a triage sheet. Having heard Richard’s question, he glanced at her, seemingly waiting for her approval. As if what she said made any difference whatsoever. Along with Richard and the rest of the crew, the senior medical officer thought Cole was the greatest thing since butter on toast.
Amelia had thought the same once upon a time. During medical school she’d idolized him, had viewed Cole as the perfect man. Funny, generous, intelligent, handsome, charming, compassionate. Had she not loved Clara so much she might have resented her sister’s perfect life. Beautiful inside and out, Clara had held Cole’s heart from nearly the moment they’d met. Only, in the end, Cole had kissed Amelia and walked away from both women.
“If that’s okay?” he added to the corporal’s request.
“Fine.” She turned away, knowing she was unnecessarily brusque yet unable to bring herself to show any grace. If she gave Cole an inch, he’d take a foot. She had to keep her distance for her own peace of mind, from loyalty to her sister.
Clara, whom she hadn’t been able to tell that Cole was on her ship despite their e-mails. Clara, who had volunteered for yet another crazy assignment. Clara, whose notes sounded so unlike the woman she’d once been while engaged to Cole.
Oh! She despised what he’d done to her big sister and she clung to that like a drowning woman clutching a life preserver.
“There’s a positive strep throat in bay one,” Tracy said, snagging Amelia’s thoughts back to where she was washing her hands.
She’d scrubbed so hard she was surprised to still see skin.
Drying her hands, she nodded at the nurse. “Thanks.”
Tracy’s face twisted in thought then she pulled Amelia aside. Under her breath, she quickly spoke. “I wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t your friend, but the whole crew has picked up on your…not hostility but a definite lack of friendliness toward Dr Stanley.”
“And?” Amelia fought to keep her face emotionless. As she’d told Cole on that first day, she wouldn’t let her animosity toward him interfere with the care of her patients. In her mind, she’d stuck to that. She may not like him, but she was doing her best to be professional. She’d even set up several patients to see him during his stint thus far. Obviously, however, she hadn’t done such a great job of hiding her feelings from the crew, which truly did affect both their jobs.
Tracy looked uncertain about going on. “You’re one of the fairest people I know, Amelia. Always level-headed and logical. Kind, too. Yet, with Cole, you’re…prickly.”
“Prickly?” She wanted to laugh. “Prickly” was as good a word as any to define how she felt about being forced to work with Cole. Just call her Cactus Woman. “It’s true I do my best to avoid the man, but I am professional when our paths cross.” Usually. “He’s the one who keeps invading my workspace.” And her workout space, her dining hall space, her dreams.
“Invading your space?” Tracy frowned, and chided gently, “You’re lucky he’s such a caring doctor. Not all would spend their free time seeing more patients so he can lighten someone else’s workload. Maybe you should give the guy a break.”
Okay, Tracy had a point. Cole did go above and beyond his workload and try to make the sick ward run more smoothly. He was an excellent, caring doctor. And, no, she really hadn’t rolled out the welcome mat, but surely no one thought she should? As gossip always did, word had gotten out.
“All I ask is that he stay out of my personal space, take care of his patients, allow me to take care of my patients, and beyond that, it’s really irrelevant if I like him. Every crew member doesn’t have to like every other crew member. Actually, to expect that is idyllic and naïve,” Amelia pointed out, knowing she was being too defensive. “He isn’t someone I can like because of the past, but I can tolerate him for the time we serve on board together.”
“So he used to be engaged to your sister? So what?” Tracy shrugged in frustration. “If he didn’t love her, he did her a favor by ending things before the wedding.”
Anger bubbled deep in Amelia’s belly. “A favor? You think he did my sister a favor by breaking their engagement?” she fumed, clenching and unclenching her hands at her sides.
She wanted to scream that he’d waited until the night before their wedding to bestow his favor. That her family had arranged to all be home, that their friends had all been there, that Clara had been left to tell everyone the wedding was off because, after getting cold feet, he’d left. Left! Deserting Clara to face the music alone. Deserting her, letting her wait hopelessly for him, telling her by his actions all she’d needed to know, leaving her with mountains of guilt.
As much as she’d like to point out what a cad Cole really was, Amelia couldn’t bear to make Clara’s humiliation public. Nor her own, particularly not in the medical ward where she might be overheard by other crew members and perhaps even Cole.
“See, this is what I mean. Look at you. Your face is red, your voice is low, and your words are erupting from between gritted teeth.” Tracy gave her a concerned look. “Before Dr Stanley arrived, we all thought you were one cool cookie and great to work with. Now…”
Now they all thought she’d turned into a witch.
One with pointed shoes and a wart on her nose.
Maybe she had. Cole obviously brought out the worst in her.
She’d had enough.
“Well, if you’ll hand me my broom, I’ll fly on over and see the strep throat in bay one.”
“Amelia.” Tracy clutched her shirtsleeve. “Please think about what I said. Whatever happened between Dr Stanley and your sister is in the past. Maybe he did make mistakes but whatever happened, he’s a great guy now and genuinely seems to want your forgiveness. Let the past go.”
Let the past go.
As if it was that simple.
As if it weren’t her right as next of kin to nail the jerk who’d hurt and humiliated her family, and crushed her heart.
As if it wasn’t in her best interest now to protect that heart at all costs by keeping distance between herself and Cole.
The object of her animosity stepped out of bay two, peeled off a pair of disposable gloves and dropped them into a waste receptacle.
He glanced up, met her gaze with his cerulean one and gave her a smile. The same smile he flashed every chance he got, regardless of who saw. One that said, Forgive me. One that said, I’m sorry. One that said, Remember me. The me you adored. The me you kissed as if we were long-lost lovers. One that said he hadn’t forgotten two years ago, and he wanted her still.
Maybe that was why she couldn’t forgive him.
Maybe that was why she clung to her anger so fiercely.
Because if she quit hating Cole for what he’d done to Clara, to her, if she forgave him, she’d have to confront what she saw in his eyes.
Cole wanted her.
A fact that left her uncomfortable in her own skin.
Worse, if she stopped clinging to her anger at Cole, she’d have to face her own feelings—what she’d been feeling when their gazes had met and how her world had stood still during a wedding rehearsal meant to forever link him to another woman.
But if those were her reasons for disliking Cole, what did that say about her? That she was a coward? Not worthy of the crew’s respect?
Amelia was no coward.
After all, she was a Stockton.
She turned back to her nurse. “You know, Tracy, I owe you and everyone an apology. I have been walking around with a chip on my shoulder where Dr Stanley is concerned. If that has affected my job performance or my interaction with the crew, I’m sorry.”
Looking relieved, Tracy smiled. “It’s okay, Amelia. We were just a bit worried as it’s so unlike you.” Tracy gave her a kind look. “Does your sister have any idea of how loyal you are? How lucky she is to have you for a sister?”
Loyal? Amelia didn’t feel loyal. She felt like a traitor. She had betrayed her sister in the worst possible way.
That was why Cole had contacted her after the breakup. Why he’d come
to see her that night a few weeks later. After he’d stood her up! Wait for me, he’d said, and then he’d left. Without a word. Had he really thought she’d talk to him? Had he really thought she’d just let him move from one Stockton sister to the next without batting an eyelash of protest at him showing up on her doorstep, saying he couldn’t get her out of his mind and wanted a relationship with her?
He wanted a relationship with her now.
He hadn’t spoken the words out loud, but when he looked at her, the message blazed in his eyes.
But whatever chance they’d had disappeared the moment he’d left her waiting, the moment he’d walked away and left Clara to deal with everything on her own. Maybe, under the circumstances, they’d never even had a real chance.
Still, regardless of what Cole wanted or even what she wanted, she had a job to do, a responsibility to her crew, and Amelia took her responsibilities seriously.
“You’re right. It is time I let the past go.” She intentionally said the words loud enough for the others to hear.
Cole’s eyes widened, then narrowed.
She arched a brow in challenge at him, a slow smile curving her lips. Somehow his distrust made swallowing her pride, facing her fears where he was concerned, a little easier. She’d do what was right for her crew, what they needed to see from her for the overall good.
As her father would say, sometimes a man—or woman—had to prove their worth by taking one for the team.
For the next few months, Amelia would take one for the team and pray she didn’t live to regret her decision.
A bad feeling crawled up Cole’s neck. One of those that warned something wasn’t right.
Amelia walked toward him. Of her own free will. No gun to head necessary.
“How did Corporal Wright’s abscess look? Healing well?”
Had she really just spoken to him of her own accord? Smiled at him with her mega-wattage smile?
Something was definitely off-kilter.