by Janice Lynn
“She’s right.”
His hands stilled for a brief moment, shook ever so slightly.
Amelia hated the tremor that shook her own body in response. Why was she so in tune with Cole? Why did being here with him feel so right? And so very wrong?
“You were right,” she admitted.
“About?”
Everything you said to me on the night you came to my dorm.
No, he hadn’t been right about that.
There could be nothing between them. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not anything. Nothing except the need to work amicably together for the next few months.
So why had she just thought about that night again?
She took a deep breath. “The first day you were on board you told me we’d have to come to some type of peace or our past would affect our jobs.”
He looped the needle through the patient’s gaping flesh, pulled it the rest of the way through with the needle holders.
“Obviously, I wasn’t as good at hiding my feelings toward you as I’d hoped. The crew thinks I don’t like you for some reason.” She said the last with a slight lilt to her voice, as if she couldn’t fathom what had given them that idea. “I do think you’re a great surgeon, for whatever that’s worth.” She nodded toward where he was closing the last wound. “And a fabulous seamstress. I’m impressed with how neatly you were able to pull his lacerations on his index finger back together. I couldn’t have done a better job.”
He didn’t look at her, just kept his gaze on his work. “My ability to outsew you makes me forgiven?”
“No,” she denied, knowing he wouldn’t buy it even if she lied. “I never said you were forgiven. I’m not sure I can forgive you. But for the duration of us working together, I’m willing to negotiate a peace treaty, so to speak.”
He seemed to consider her offer. “For the benefit of our coworkers?”
“Hey.” She tried to make light of it. “From time to time even sworn enemies have agreed to coexist for the greater good.”
He pulled the thread back through and examined the now closed wound. Satisfied with his work, he wrapped the thread around the end of the needle holder several times, pulled the thread tight and tied off a knot. He then repeated the process several times, changing direction of the rotation of thread each time to strengthen the knot.
When he’d finished, Amelia handed him a pair of suture scissors. He cut the line, leaving only a few millimeters of thread above the knot, just enough to make removal easier.
“You’re an interesting woman, Amelia Stockton. Generous to a fault.” Generous to a fault? What was he saying? “But, for the record, you’ve never been my enemy. Neither have I been yours.”
Amelia’s breath caught.
Rather than look at her, Cole gently shook the dozing man’s arm. “Paul? Wake up. We’re finished closing the lacerations.”
Slowly the man’s eyes blinked open, adjusting bit by bit to his environment.
“It’s okay that you aren’t feeling much, if anything, in your fingers. Your hand is still numb from the anesthetic. I need you to make a fist then flatten your hand for me so I can check your range of motion.”
The man did as asked.
“Excellent,” Cole praised, taking hold of the needle holder and blocking Paul’s vision of his hand. “I’m going to touch each of your fingers and without looking I need you to tell me when I’m touching you, if you can. Just like we did before we started to sew. Again, you still have anesthesia on board, so don’t be alarmed if you don’t feel anything yet.” Cole grinned. “Actually, be grateful if the numbness lasts a while.”
Sensation in the tip of Paul’s pinky was normal, but there was still nothing in the other three lacerated fingers.
“It’s not uncommon after an injury like this to have decreased sensation,” Cole explained. “I didn’t see any evidence of a lacerated nerve, but with the weight of the hatch crushing your fingers, it’s possible.”
Wincing, the man moved his fingers back and forth, studying the suture lines. “What if it isn’t the anesthesia causing the numbness? Will I get the feeling back?”
“In most cases sensation will return on its own within a few days to weeks. However, we will need to keep a close watch on you,” Cole told the pale, slightly dazed man. “I’m going to give you an antibiotic prophylaxis and something for pain, but you’ll need to return to the sick ward tomorrow morning for a checkup.”
Cole helped walk the man out of the bay.
Through the screen, Amelia heard him speak to a corpsman regarding getting the man safely to his berth. Cole was a thoughtful surgeon, caring of his patients. He always had been.
Trying to keep her thoughts off his comment about not being her enemy, she emptied the surgical trays, properly disposing of the sharps and contaminated materials used, saving everything that could be sterilized for future use. She was wiping down the metal tray when Cole stepped back behind the curtain.
“There aren’t any more patients to be seen today,” he informed her, leaning against the counter. His hair was tousled, his eyes intensely blue, his smile contagious.
God, he really was Dr Delicious.
No, no, Dr Disastrous. She had to remember that.
“Okay.” Uncertain about her truce, she studied where her hands wiped the tray. Was she crazy to think she could be amicable to Cole after the way he’d hurt her sister? Or were her fears anything to do with her sister? Were her fears more wrapped up in the fact that her heart pounded against her rib cage like an out-of-control monster wanting out of its cage?
She glanced up, met his gaze, held her breath. Why did he affect her so crazily?
“Are you going to the gym?” He pushed off the counter, straightening to his full height of over six feet, making her feel small and feminine. “I’ll see you there.”
He hadn’t had to wait for her answer. He knew she was. She always worked out after finishing in clinic. So did he, at exactly the same time. Actually, Cole seemed to be on the same wavelength with her on a lot of things. If she went for a walk on the “steel beach,” so did he. If she went to the exercise room, so did he. When she arrived at the dining hall, so did he. The only time she’d had peace was while inside her room and calling being alone with her thoughts peaceful was stretching the truth to say the least.
There wasn’t anything peaceful about closing her eyes and dreaming of the man gazing so intently at her.
Amelia was having a difficult time breathing, but not because of her workout routine. More like because of the man on the elliptical in front of her.
The very hot man wearing workout shorts and a form-fitting navy blue T-shirt that made his arms look ripped and hinted at abs worthy of a men’s fitness magazine.
Not that she was looking at his abs.
No, she was facing his backside. His tight glutes, his sinewy thighs, his rock-hard calves, his—
“You’re staring again,” Suzie warned in a low voice so as not to be overheard in the semicrowded workout room.
Amelia shot a dirty look at her friend. “I’m looking straight ahead. Not staring.”
“Sure, you’re not staring. Neither am I.” Her roommate snickered, waggling her eyebrows in Cole’s direction.
The machine next to Amelia had been occupied by a captain when Cole had arrived. He’d taken a machine in front of Amelia and slightly to her right. Seriously, just looking straight ahead, she couldn’t possibly not look at him unless she closed her eyes. And, really, who ever heard of exercising with your eyes closed?
“You have to admit,” Suzie continued, obviously enjoying herself. “The view is mouthwatering.”
Wiping her forearm across her sweaty face, Amelia rolled her eyes. “You have such a one-track mind.”
Waggling her eyebrows again, Suzie laughed. “Absolutely. Tell me that isn’t one fine specimen of man in front of us.”
Amelia couldn’t. Cole was one fine specimen of man.
If she’d met him for
the first time on board the USS Benjamin Franklin, she’d have liked Cole. A lot. He was witty, helpful, generous, intelligent, charming, sexy.
If she’d just met Cole she’d be half in love with him.
Only she hadn’t just met him. She’d met him years ago as her sister’s fiancé. Clara had been deceived by Cole’s false wonderfulness, too. What would her sister say if she knew Amelia was being suckered in by her ex-fiancé? That she’d been suckered in years ago and wondered if she’d truly ever gotten over her infatuation with him?
“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were softening where he’s concerned.”
Amelia shot another glare at her bunkmate. “You’d be wrong if you thought that.”
Okay, so she’d just been thinking she was being suckered in, but no way would she admit that out loud.
“Would I?” Suzie asked, her thin black brow arched high.
“Just because I have to work with him, it doesn’t mean I like him.” Or that she couldn’t appreciate his positives.
Suzie and Amelia both turned back to stare ahead. At Cole.
His calves were taut as his legs worked up and down. Sweat dampened his T-shirt, causing the cotton material to cling to his back, his well-defined back that tapered from wide shoulders to a narrow waist to tight buttocks and strong thighs. Oh, heaven.
Amelia’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
Okay, Cole was hotter than the Sahara Desert.
Way hotter.
She even found the sweat glistening on his skin and dampening his T-shirt oddly appealing. What was wrong with her? She did not find sweaty, overheated men appealing.
Amelia’s machine beeped, indicating she’d hit peak speed.
“I heard you and he talked today,” Suzie pressed, glancing toward the control panel on Amelia’s elliptical and whistling.
“You heard that?” She tried to drag her gaze away from Cole. And failed. Which was okay, since she was only looking straight ahead, right? To not look at him she’d have to twist her head and that would be poor body mechanics.
Never let it be said a Stockton had poor body mechanics.
“Oh, yeah.” Suzie laughed. “I heard that and more.”
“More?” Amelia gulped, knowing she was the butt of ship gossip. Great. “What more?”
“You think everyone in Medical hasn’t seen the way he looks at you? That they haven’t noticed the way you watch him when you think they aren’t paying attention?” Tsking, Suzie shook her head. “You should know better than to think you could get away with something like that.”
“How does he look at me?”
Suzie’s lips curled upwards. “Of everything I said, that’s what caught your attention? That he looks at you?”
She shouldn’t care, shouldn’t be holding her breath, waiting. Should be more concerned that others had noticed. Yet…
“How does he look at me?” she stage-whispered, her gaze finally managing to shift from Cole to her bunkmate.
Suzie’s black eyes bored into Amelia, her voice purred with envy. “Like he wants to dip you in chocolate and nibble his way to the center.”
Amelia let that digest, fought to control the tiny spurts of anxiety. They were spurts of anxiety, not hope.
“Amelia?” Suzie questioned when she didn’t respond.
“He doesn’t want to do that to me,” she denied, because she couldn’t verbalize that Cole wanted her, that deep down she wanted him to want her. How could she want Cole to dip her in chocolate and nibble his way to her center? That would be wrong on so many counts. “That’s crazy. Cole can’t want me.”
Because if he did, how would she deal with her own treacherous unresolved feelings?
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Both women jumped at Cole’s voice.
When had he stepped off the machine? Walked over to them?
What did he mean, he wouldn’t say that?
“You were listening to our private conversation?” Amelia snapped, her face flushing. Was he admitting to wanting her? If so, what did that mean? What did she want it to mean?
“If you didn’t want me to listen, you shouldn’t have been talking where I could hear.” His gaze didn’t leave hers. “Why can’t I want you, Amelia? I told you I wanted you. Two years ago. Have you forgotten?”
This couldn’t be happening. Shouldn’t be happening. Why was Suzie smiling like the fool cat that ate the canary?
“You heard everything we said?”
“Not everything.” His gaze went back and forth between the two women, his gaze settling back on Amelia. “But enough.”
“Enough.” He’d heard her question Suzie about how he looked at her. Her face burned in shame. Oh, Clara, I’m sorry. I’ll get whatever this hold he has over me under control.
Amelia stopped moving on the machine, gave Suzie a dirty look, then walked toward the weights.
Cole followed her.
“I owe you an apology,” she said stiffly when he stood next to her. “Suzie and I shouldn’t have been discussing you.”
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m not complaining.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile and his eyes sparked with mischief. “You can discuss me anytime.”
Amelia placed her hand on the weight rack, reluctantly met Cole’s gaze.
She had to remember her sister, had to ignore the excited bubbles working their way through her like a pot of boiling water.
“What are we doing, Cole?”
His grin was contagious, but she pretended immunity.
“Working out?” he offered.
She sighed at his deliberate misunderstanding of what she’d asked. “I may have agreed to a truce for the sake of the crew, but that’s as far as this goes.”
His expression sobering, he nodded. “That truce is more than I expected, Amelia, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to wanting more.”
There went her heart rate again.
“What kind of more?” she dared ask, for the simple reason she couldn’t not ask.
She knew what he was going to say, knew she wasn’t prepared for his answer, knew she needed to put some distance between them right this very second.
Instead she stood still, her fingers curled around a dumbbell, waiting for him to say words she didn’t want to hear, and yet she did want to hear them. Over and over.
And that made her weak, something she couldn’t stand being, a failure in her own eyes. A failure to her self and to her family.
What would her family say if they knew she and Cole had kissed between the wedding rehearsal and the time he’d broken things off with Clara? What would Clara say?
Amelia couldn’t bear to hurt her family, but she couldn’t turn away from Cole. She stood her ground, waiting for words she hadn’t heard in two years and yet had never been able to forget, had awakened in cold sweats hearing them echo through her dreams. Words she needed to hear again, even if for just one last time.
Clara, forgive me for what I’m feeling.
She held her breath, her lungs threatening to burst, her ears straining to hear his answer, wanting to believe he meant what he said and that he wasn’t there because of some twisted reason to do with her sister.
“I want you.”
CHAPTER SIX
AMELIA’S breath gushed out at the bombshell Cole dropped between them. “What do you mean, you want me?”
He stared down into Amelia’s big brown eyes and thought her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Yes, her hair was swept up in its usual ponytail and sweat glistened across her brow and ran down her neck, but she was beautiful.
Maybe because of the way those big brown eyes stared up at him. Maybe because of the way there was a growing acknowledgment that neither of them could stop what was happening between them, just as they hadn’t been able to stop what had grown unbidden between them years ago.
A friendship that had developed into something much deeper.
“You know w
hat I mean.”
“Do I?” Her chin lifted, letting him know she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
When would she figure out fighting with her was the last thing he wanted?
“I told you how I felt about you.”
“The night you came to my dorm room and declared you’d fallen into lust with me despite the fact you’d been scheduled to walk down the aisle with my sister?”
He winced. Was that how she’d taken his confession that night? Lust? He wanted to deny the crude description, but she was right. He had felt an undeniable physical attraction to her, but lust didn’t begin to cover the depth of his feelings.
“That isn’t what I said.”
“No?” Her brow arched and her chin raised another defensive notch. “That’s distinctly how I remember your pitiful attempt to get into my bed that night.”
“Pitiful?” A blast of wounded pride hit him. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Her eyes narrowed with renewed anger and Cole instantly wished he could take back his biting words.
“You may have gotten into my bed.” She spoke low, succinctly, coldly. “But I came to my senses before any real damage occurred.”
Yes, she’d stopped him, told him she never wanted to see him again. Ever. She’d told him she hated him. She had hated him. Of that, Cole couldn’t be mistaken. The look in her eyes when she’d ordered him out of her life had been murderous.
That look was what had kept him away from her for the past two years. What man wanted to put himself in the line of fire for sure rejection?
Yet wasn’t that what he’d done by coming aboard her ship? By putting his career on the line to do so?
He couldn’t explain that one even to himself.
He glanced around at the other crew working out. No one seemed to be paying them the slightest attention, except for Suzie, and even she was out of earshot as long as they kept their voices low. Still, their conversation wasn’t meant for possible public consumption.