Falling for Her Army Doc

by Dianne Drake

  “Nothing to be jealous of. I’ve always made friends easily. When I was a kid I could charm just about anybody to get anything I wanted.”

  “I never really had time to make friends. Just when we were finally settled in one place, it was time to move on. And now... I haven’t changed much, to be honest. It’s easier being alone. I can make my life exactly what I want it to be without interference.”

  “I’ve never really been alone. Growing up, I was social. Then in college and medical school...let’s just say I liked to party. After that, the Army wasn’t exactly a place where anyone got to be alone.”

  “My dad was very ‘social,’ as you call it. But that never happened to me. He always said I wasn’t outgoing enough, and as it turns out he was right. I have my work, though.”

  “And that’s enough?”

  Lizzie sighed, then took a sip of her lemonade. “Was today enough for you, Mateo?”

  “It was different—but I can’t really judge it in terms of being enough or not enough. I enjoyed the work, enjoyed getting back to medicine for a little while, even if it wasn’t in a surgical capacity.”

  * * *

  Lizzie was mellow this evening. No particular reason why, but the feeling had been dragging at her most of the day and now she was ready to give in to it. Let it take her wherever it wanted to.

  Mateo had gone with a couple of people he’d met at The Shack to a private yacht party, and even though he’d asked her to come along she hadn’t been in the mood. Instead she’d stopped by the hospital, to have a chat with Janis, but had decided not to go in once she’d got there.

  She and Janis lived the same life. They worked. In twenty years, when she reached the age Janis was now, she could see herself being the one with the tiki cup collection, serving tropical drinks to colleagues who dropped by her office. Tonight, that had just hit too close to home, and she’d decided she didn’t want to see it, so instead she’d gone home, turned on some soft music and was now reading the latest volume of Topics in Primary Care.

  The first article that caught her attention was about newly approved disease-modifying therapies for multiple sclerosis. It was an expanding field that was resulting in some exciting outcomes. Next she read about Trigeminal Nerve Stimulation for ADHD in children, but wasn’t sure that kind of electrical stimulation was anything she wanted to try. Finally, when she got to an article about initiatives in the management of non-motor symptoms in Parkinson disease, her eyes practically crossed.

  But she was too tired to go upstairs to bed. So she shut her eyes and allowed herself five minutes to rest there before undertaking the stairs.

  It was warm indoors. The fan overhead was spinning, but still moisture dampened the front of Lizzie’s floral green Hawaiian wrap-dress—her favorite for lounging. She stretched out on the chaise, revealing long, tanned legs underneath the dress, then arched back, hoping to catch a little more of the breeze from the fan.

  Five minutes led to ten, which led to twenty, which led to an hour—and all she got for spending the extra time lounging was such a vivid image of Mateo she didn’t want to interrupt it.

  Perspiration was beading between her breasts now, and it wasn’t all about the heat.

  “Looks like you’re having a restless night,” he said, from outside the open lanai door.

  “Medical journals make me restless,” she said, tugging her dress back into place and assuming a more conversational position. “I didn’t think you’d be back this early.”

  “Parties are boring when you don’t know anybody there.” He stepped inside but kept his distance, going no farther than just barely in the door. “The people seemed nice enough, but I decided I’d rather come back here and spend the rest of the evening with you.”

  He gave her legs an obvious stare, then moved a few more steps into the room.

  “I thought maybe we could go swimming. No one’s down on the beach and it’s a lot cooler outside than it is in here. Care to go?” He walked over to her and held out his hand.

  She was sure he was staring at her breasts. Her dress did nothing but make them more prominent than they already were. He’d caught her looking a way no one was meant to see, and there was nothing to do about it but ignore the fact that she was barely dressed and either go with him or go to bed.

  And while going to bed had seemed appealing an hour ago, she was over that now, and her mind was forming a vision of her and Mateo on the beach.

  Bold move...but Mateo made her feel bold. And needy. And ready to try something that would make sure she didn’t end up serving drinks in pink ceramic pineapples to anybody who happened to be passing by.

  So she took his hand, stood, and followed as he led her out the lanai door, not missing the fact that he was dressed in long cargos and a white dress shirt, and hadn’t changed into swimwear.

  “We didn’t turn on the floodlights,” she said, as they headed toward the beach.

  “Do we need the light?” he asked, stopping and turning to face her. “There’s a big moon out tonight, and that should be enough.”

  The world seemed dreamlike as she stood there, anticipating something...anything. But it was clear from his lack of movement that the next move was up to her to make—if there were to be a move. So, without speaking, she started to undo the buttons on his shirt. One at a time, as her fingers trembled.

  This was uncharted territory for her... seduction. The slow headiness of it. Before, with Brad, it had been an act of urgency on his part and she’d been merely a participant. But this was her seduction, and Mateo made it obvious that to keep going or to stop was for her to decide.

  He was watching as she continued to unbutton his shirt, making her way down his chest, taking care to brush her fingers over his skin on her journey. Lizzie liked it that he watched her. It made her feel wanted in a way no man had ever wanted her. So with each button, and each deliberate brush of her fingers to his skin, she went one step more, leaning in to kiss what her fingers had just caressed, and listening to him moan as she did so.

  “You know you’re killing me,” he whispered, as she tugged his shirt off his broad shoulders and dropped it on the ground.

  “You know that’s what I intend to do,” she said, smiling softly at him as his hands reached down and gently caressed her back, her arms, her shoulders.

  Then he pulled her up and hard to his chest, letting their heated bodies press together.

  “My turn,” he said, reciprocating button for button, caress for caress, kiss for kiss, and then likewise pulling her shirt off her shoulders and dropping it on top of his, leaving them pressed together skin to skin.

  He was looking into her face. “Did you know this was the first thing I thought about when I met you? You were standing there, arms folded across your chest like you always do, assessing me. And my assessment of you, before I even thought about you as a doctor, was that you completed paradise. I’d taken the standard tour and none of it had made a difference, but then there was you...”

  “And my first thought was that you were going to be trouble.”

  “Were you right?”

  “In more ways than I counted on.”

  She let him lead her farther down the path to the beach, and to the edge of the water. That was where they stopped, and she removed his cargos and let him stand there in his boxers.

  Would this be the thing that ended them? One more step into the water with Mateo and there would be no turning back. Perhaps somewhere in the deepest part of her she’d known this was inevitable. But what she didn’t know was what would come next.

  This was where the everyday Lizzie would have stopped. Yet this was where the Lizzie who wanted to come out of her shell would begin. Which was she?

  As it turned out, Mateo answered that question with his first kiss. It was soft and delicate, just barely there. Lizzie responded with a second kiss—it was more dem
anding than she’d expected. Harder than she’d known she could kiss.

  And that was her answer as she took that next step into the water. Then the next and the next. Even though she couldn’t have Mateo in the truest sense, she wanted him now, and for the first time in her life Lizzie gave in to what she wanted.

  In the ocean.

  In the moonlight.

  In Mateo’s embrace.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AS THE MORNING light peeked in through the blinds Lizzie opened her eyes and stretched, then turned on her side, expecting to see Mateo there. But he was gone.

  After their lovemaking in the ocean they’d returned to the house, running bold and naked, not much caring if they were caught, then showered off the sand and spent the rest of the night exploring, then cuddling, and doing all those things that had finally caused her to sleep in his arms, more peaceful and contented than she’d felt in a long, long time.

  No promises had been made. In fact, few words had been spoken. There had been no need. Between them, the emotion had been so raw that words hadn’t had any place. They’d both known what this was about: a growing need. Still, waking up with him still there would have been nice, and she was disappointed that last night hadn’t extended into the morning.

  Dressing, then heading downstairs, Lizzie half expected to see Mateo in the kitchen, or maybe on the lanai, but he was in neither place. He’d been there, though. Coffee was made, and there were fresh muffins sitting out, waiting for her.

  So she indulged, and by the time she’d finished Mateo was there, standing by the sliding door to the lanai, smiling. He was holding a couple of bodyboards under his arm.

  “Are you sure you got the right size?” she asked.

  “The girl in the surf shop measured me—twice.”

  “I’ll bet she did,” Lizzie said, as she did a mental check to make sure.

  The board had to come to about mid-chest, and that was where her eyes fixed for much longer than they should have. But what a chest to fix on...

  * * *

  Having Lizzie stare at him like that was nice, especially after last night. But in the full light of day it made him nervous. It also made him keenly aware that he couldn’t have what was within his reach. No delusions, no forgetting anything. She deserved what he couldn’t give her—a fully functioning man, not just the shell of someone who didn’t know who he was, let alone how he was going to work out the rest of his life.

  “You do realize that ‘bodyboard’ has another meaning, don’t you?” he said. “It’s used in radiation therapy and it allows the intestinal tract to drop out of the treatment field?”

  “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” she asked, laughing.

  “It was just something I remembered when I was buying these. Too bad what came back to me wasn’t more useful.”

  “Well, if that’s what you want to use your bodyboard for it’s up to you. I prefer to use mine in the water, paddling over the waves...”

  “Capsizing?” he asked.

  “You always turn toward the negative, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe capsizing is a memory.”

  “Or maybe it’s your way of trying to convince me to let you start with a kneeling board, or even a full surfboard. Which I won’t do because you’ve had brain surgery. In case that has slipped your mind.”

  “Wish it would,” he said, resisting the urge to reach up and feel the tiny area where the doctor had drilled. “And it wasn’t exactly brain surgery. It’s classified as a minimally invasive procedure.”

  “Like I don’t know that?”

  “Like there’s a huge difference between having part of your skull removed and having a tiny hole drilled.”

  He knew the procedure like he knew the back of his hand—not because he’d had to remove that many subdural hematomas, but because he’d read up on the procedure dozens of times after it was over. It was so simple—drilling a burr hole the size of a dime, inserting a catheter and letting a clot-buster drug drip in. Over several days the clot disappeared, and there was no need for a more substantial procedure, like a craniotomy, where the skull was cut open and the clot was manually removed.

  That was the procedure he’d done too many times, and how he wished he’d known more about the other procedure when he was in the field. But it was still new, and in field surgery the tried and true was always the go-to. He’d been in the hospital in Germany when the procedure had been used on him.

  Mateo blinked hard to rid himself of the image of what they’d done to him. It was a reminder of too many things he’d known and done as a battlefield surgeon. Things he’d never be able to do again.

  “Nope. Can’t forget that. It’s caused me to part my hair differently.”

  “Well, if it’s of any consequence, the post-surgical notes I read said your procedure was textbook-perfect.”

  “Not a comforting thought, Lizzie,” he said. “Someone tapping into your brain.”

  “Because you don’t like thinking of yourself as a patient? Or because brain surgery, no matter how minimal, scares the bejeebies out of you, like it does most people?”

  “One from Column A and one from Column B, please. Being that close to what could easily have been deadly isn’t what I care to have come into my mind. It always does, though. And I know I shouldn’t complain, since I was one of the lucky ones, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that if you start your real recovery by accepting the fact that you were a patient, which makes you the vulnerable one, it might take you to the next step, where you’ll start dealing with the emotional aspects of vulnerability? And after that...who knows? But your recovery, Mateo, could take a long time.”

  “Well, it seems I’ve got plenty of that,” he quipped.

  “And in the meantime?”

  He shrugged. “Take it a day at a time, I suppose. I mean, what else can I do? And don’t suggest anything to do with the hospital, because you know how I feel about that.”

  “I’m not sure you’re aware, but I do listen to the things you say and watch the things you do, and you’re not helpless. In fact, you function very well. Like yesterday at the clinic. No mistakes—not even any hesitation. Take note of yourself, Mateo. The answers are there. And if they don’t come, then start with something that will make new memories. People do it every day.”

  “But I’m not ‘people,’ Lizzie. I’m me, and I’m impatient to get on with my life.”

  “Then do it, Mateo. Starting today—right now—look at everything as new. You’ve got a clean slate. That’s a beginning.”

  “You know, there are times when I really hate your optimism.”

  She laughed. “Me, too. But I’m stuck with it. And as long as you’re stuck with me...”

  His lips curved into a suggestive smile. “And how long would that be?” he asked.

  “Let’s start with a month and see how that works.”

  “A month? With benefits?”

  “Everything’s negotiable.”

  Finally, his full-out smile returned. “Is it? Then tell me what you want to take to the bargaining table to open negotiations, and I’ll make sure I’m there with whatever you want.”

  “I’ll just bet you will be,” she said, swooshing past him and heading toward the beach. Smiling a smile Mateo couldn’t see.

  * * *

  She was magnificent, riding the waves. So much beauty and poise skimming over the surface of the water. And in the instant when she disappeared into the wave on her belly, and then emerged standing, balancing herself, she looked like Aphrodite, the goddess of love, or one of the Greek goddesses of the sea.

  This was the most uninhibited he’d seen her. It was as though when she became one with the wave she ascended to another place—somewhere ethereal, somewhere that freed her from whatever it was
that kept her bound otherwise.

  “You ready for your big adventure?” she called as she came walking toward him, her tight black swimsuit emphasizing curves he knew he shouldn’t be observing and her wild red hair slicked back, exposing the entirety of her perfect face.

  Lizzie dropped her surfboard next to where Mateo was sitting and watching, and picked up one of the bodyboards.

  “It’s fun in its own right,” she said, holding out her empty hand to pull him up.

  But he didn’t want to move. He’d spent the last hour watching perfection, and that seemed infinitely more interesting than him being out there, flopping around on a bodyboard.

  “Truthfully? I’m good, sitting here watching you.”

  Lizzie dropped down on the huge, multi-colored beach towel with him, grabbed a bottle of water from the small cooler they’d brought, then smiled.

  “Because you’re a coward?” she taunted.

  And her smile was so infectious he caught it in an instant and smiled back.

  “Because you’re having a good time, and I don’t want to interrupt that for what may be some pretty pathetic attempts to keep my belly flat on a board.”

  Her eyes roamed down to his belly, then back to his face. “Your belly will be fine,” she said.

  But it wasn’t his belly he was concerned about. Other parts were reacting. All the man parts, as he would expect. And most especially his heart.

  Was it beating too quickly? Was his breathing coming a little too shallow and fast? It felt that way, and he wasn’t even thinking of her in terms of anything that could cause that. It was simply a natural reaction. A primal urge, he wanted to tell himself. Even though he knew it was more than that.

  “What about the rest of me?” he asked.

  “Do as I say and you won’t have any problems. First, for a beginner, it’s best to choose a calm spot, where the waves aren’t so high. Maybe a couple of feet, but no more than that.”