Resisting Her Commander Hero

by Lucy Ryder

  It had genuine amusement lighting his eyes and curling his mouth in a smile that had her gritting her teeth in aggravation. Arrogant BAB, she snarled inwardly, using the acronym she and Paige had thought of one night when they’d been a little tipsy. But “badass boy” fitted Nate like a pair of snug boxer briefs. Except seeing him now, it was clear he was no longer a boy.

  “You thinking of taking me on, Francis?” he drawled smoothly, his gaze hot and intense one moment, dark and unreadable the next. The lightning-fast changes left her confused and more than a little irritated.

  “You think I can’t?” she challenged, furious with the shiver crawling up her spine that had nothing to do with Paige using alcohol swabs on her scrapes and cuts.

  Besides, taking him on while she was tired and hurting wouldn’t be smart. Not to her pride and certainly not to her heart.

  She glared at him. Why couldn’t he take his sexy self off and leave her alone?

  “You can try.” He smirked with typical male arrogance that had Frankie barely restraining herself from snarling.

  Casually propping his shoulder against the door frame as though he had every right to be there, Nate locked his dark brooding eyes on his hapless target—her—his sensual mouth an uncompromising and disapproving line. All humor had gone.

  Frankie shivered. Yeesh. She’d forgotten that about him, about his ability to focus so intently on a person they felt like the most important person in the world. Like they were under a microscope.

  She turned away to stare at a wall chart without seeing a thing. But her body, the traitor, was locked like a tractor beam on him. And then…and then her nipples tightened and tingles spread across her skin like a heat rash that she blamed on the fact that she was cold and wet.

  “Excuse me, Doctor,” she drawled, ignoring the hunk in the doorway. “But isn’t there a rule that says only family members are allowed in an ER room?”

  Paige sent Nate a quick look and muttered something that sounded like, “Don’t pull me into whatever is between you two.”

  Frankie felt guilty for about two seconds. She didn’t want to involve Paige but she wasn’t above using her friend as a buffer either. Especially when it came to Commander Cool.

  “There isn’t anything to get between,” she said smoothly, ignoring Nate and mentally celebrating the complete disinterest in her tone.

  “Frankie.” Paige protested her rudeness, but Frankie ignored the rebuke, watching Nate out of the corners of her eyes while pretending to ignore him too. For long moments he studied her until she was ready to start squirming.

  Finally, with a casual roll of his shoulder, he pushed away from the door frame.

  “It’s all right, Doc. I’ll go.” A big hand landed palm flat against the door in preparation of pushing it open. He paused and with a hard look at Frankie said to Paige, “For you.”

  Meaning he’d never do it for Frankie. The notion stung, and before she could stop it, hurt sliced through her. Quickly squelching it with the full force of her will, she reminded herself that getting her feelings hurt by Nate’s attitude would not only be stupid but self-defeating. Besides, she was over her silly adolescent infatuation and the last thing she needed or wanted was someone with a hero complex.

  She turned and locked gazes with him just as he pushed open the door. His mouth twisted with faint irony and the next instant he was gone.

  Heavy silence descended on the room but Frankie could literally feel her friend vibrating with questions and maybe a bit of exasperation. She slid a sidelong look at her and caught Paige chewing on her lip. She could practically see the wheels spinning away in the brunette’s head and counted the seconds until the other woman cracked.

  She reached nine.

  “Seriously, Frankie?” Paige finally burst out. “You blew him off? Are you sick, dumb or just insane? And what the heck is going on between you two anyway?” she continued, without waiting for a reply.

  “Nothing.” Frankie sighed, tension draining abruptly and leaving her beyond exhausted. “Nothing I want to talk about anyway. But I am confused about why everyone keeps referring to Nathan as Sammy.”

  Paige was silent for a couple of beats as she studied Frankie. She must have decided not to probe because all she said was, “It’s his coastie handle.”

  “Handle?”

  Paige rolled her eyes. “His nickname, his moniker.”

  “I know what a handle is, Dr. Cutie,” Frankie said, because she knew that moniker irritated Paige. Besides, why should she be the only frustrated person in the room? “I’m just not sure I understand this one.”

  Paige shrugged and swabbed a particularly tender spot that had Frankie sucking in a sharp breath.

  “I’m guessing it might have something to do with him transferring from the SEALs.” She sprayed her back with iodine. “Lie down, will you? I need to put in a few stitches.”

  Frankie’s gut clenched. “Can’t you just glue them or something?”

  “No. I can’t.”

  “But—”

  “I know you, Francis,” Paige briskly interrupted when Frankie opened her mouth to argue. “The first thing you’re going to do when you get home is ignore doctor’s orders and shower. Next thing you know you’re back here with an infection. Besides, I’ll make sure they’re small and won’t leave any scars.”

  Her mouth snapped shut. Okay, so maybe Paige did know her. “Fine.” She lay facedown on the bed and propped her chin on her stacked hands. At some point she must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, Paige was tapping her arm.

  “All done, sleeping beauty,” she said cheerfully, “and before you object, I’ve booked you off for a few days. Now go home and get some sleep. No picking up heavy objects or taking flying leaps off ledges. And absolutely no physical activity or you’ll undo all my hard work.”

  Frankie sat up with a yawn and twisted to see Paige’s handiwork but her back was a patchwork of waterproof dressings. She tentatively rolled her shoulders to test her flexibility and was pleasantly surprised to discover that, though it pulled a little, it didn’t hurt.

  “While you were snoring, I gave you a shot of pain meds and antibiotics,” Paige said, clearing up the mystery. “You should be good till the morning.”

  “Which is in about an hour,” Frankie said, sliding off the bed and blinking blearily at her wristwatch. “How long was I out?”

  “About twenty minutes.” Paige helped Frankie pull her jumpsuit up her arms and over her shoulders. “I’d let you sleep but Andrews is in charge tonight.”

  Frankie brushed her hands away.

  “I can dress myself, Mom, thanks.”

  Paige backed off with a snicker and picked up a clipboard. She scribbled something then looked up. “Are your tet shots up to date?” Frankie grunted out a reply that the doctor must have understood because she tore a sheet off a pad and held it out. “I’ve prescribed antibiotics and pain meds. Get them. With all that bruising, you’re going to be sore in the morning.”

  Frankie mustered a snappy salute. “Thanks, Doc,” she said, and with a quick hug headed stiffly for the door. “You’re the best.”

  “Yes, I am.” Paige chuckled. “Just be sure to put that in the patient survey on your way out.”

  Frankie stopped abruptly at the door when she remembered their earlier visitor. She wouldn’t put it past Nate to hang around and ambush her while she was spaced out on pain meds and couldn’t defend herself.

  “What’s wrong?” Paige asked, alarmed. “Are you hurt somewhere else?”

  Shaking her head, she quickly stepped aside and nudged Paige into the doorway. “Tell me what you see. Go on,” she urged when her friend looked at her like she was a crazy person on the verge of a meltdown.

  When she made a get-on-with-it gesture, Paige gave a dramatic eye-roll and stuck her head out, looking around with dramatic furtiveness. “What am I looking for?” she whispered loudly, clearly enjoying the cloak-and-dagger moment.

  Frankie grow
led and pulled her back into the room. “Any…um…thing that doesn’t belong in the ER?”

  Paige’s eyes widened and sparkled with enjoyment. “You mean like a…a seal?”

  “No.” Of course a SEAL. She huffed out an exasperated laugh, both at herself and Paige.

  “Well, no sign of seals or any other wildlife,” Paige said with a quick head-shake.

  “Okay, good. Because I’m not in the mood to fend off any marine mammals or any other wildlife.”

  She wasn’t in the mood to deal with Nate, especially not in his disapproving big-brother role.

  No wait, she amended. Not in any role. She just wanted to go home, shower for about an hour and then fall into bed and sleep for a week.

  “Thanks, Paige, I owe you,” she said quietly, and walked stiffly from the room.

  “Yes, you do, Francis Abigail,” Paige said, popping her head into the passage. “And I plan to collect…in the form of an explanation. About sea mammals.”

  “Sure,” Frankie said agreeably. “I know a lot about whales and dolphins.” She smirked when Paige sighed loudly, but no way was she sharing her humiliation at the hands of Nathan Oliver. She’d never told a living soul about what had really happened that night and had no intention of discussing it now.

  Or ever. Even with her best friend.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LIEUTENANT COMMANDER NATHAN OLIVER leaned against the wall in the dark and drank from a disposable cup. He hadn’t wanted the sweet, black coffee but it was warming his hands and keeping him awake while he waited for the one woman on the face of the planet with the ability to drive him completely nuts.

  Nate hunched into his wet-weather Coast Guard jacket and blinked his gritty eyes. He was cold, wet and exhausted after a thirty-hour shift and wasn’t in any kind of mood to deal with Frankie. But it needed to be done before her stupid recklessness got her killed. Besides, being cold, wet and exhausted was nothing compared to what he’d survived in the teams. Nothing compared to what could have happened up in the mountains.

  But last night wasn’t what he wanted to think about; he got icy chills just recalling the expression of horror on Frankie’s face as she’d risen to her feet and launched herself at him in that split second before he’d gone over.

  From experience, he knew the memory would be replaying in an endless loop for weeks, if not months, to come. His belly cramped into a tight ball and he felt a dull pain in his chest—right next to his heart. Massaging the ache, he reminded himself that he wasn’t having a coronary.

  It was probably just indigestion from having to drink hospital coffee.

  And since it was her fault he was drinking the swill, he added it to her already lengthy list of transgressions. Transgressions that included keeping him from his warm bed, acting without thinking and…and being all grown up and too damn beautiful for her own good.

  Okay, and maybe for his good too, but no way would he ever admit that out loud…or go there. Not with her. Not after he’d promised Jack that he’d look out for his wild and willful kid sister if anything happened to him. Only Frankie was no longer a kid; something he’d been forcibly reminded of when he’d walked into that ER room.

  Nate sucked in a breath at the memory of her sitting there, her back a patchwork of bruises, scrapes and lacerations. Injuries she’d sustained when she’d gone all Queen of the Jungle and saved his ass.

  In that moment he’d wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her but the sight of her had hit him like a bullet to the chest. Gone was the wild skinny tomboy…in her place was a tall, stunning beauty with lush curves in all the right places.

  Frankie was all grown up.

  But the last thing he wanted to notice was…that. Besides, she’d been like a sister to him. And then there was the blood oath he and Jack had made the day they’d left to join the armed forces.

  He was going to honor that promise, preferably from afar, but right now he needed to make her see that her actions had been reckless, thoughtless and dangerous.

  He’d had every intention of doing it last night but they’d been surrounded by people and she’d been playing “evade and escape” since touching down on the hospital helipad. It was a game they’d been playing since his return to Port St. John’s. A game he was beginning to tire of.

  Granted, after that first week when he’d surprised Frankie chatting with his mother and sister in their kitchen, he’d deliberately kept his distance, needing to deal with being back in Port St. John’s and his new MSRT commission. He’d also had his hands full, helping his mother cope after a climbing accident had left his sister, Terri, a paraplegic.

  He’d never admit it, but he’d also been having nightmares about the last SEAL mission that had taken the lives of several teammates. Bleeding from his own injuries, he’d tried to rescue his fallen buddies but he’d been pinned down. Waiting for air support, all Nate had been able to think about had been the wild grief in Frankie’s eyes at Jack’s funeral and wondering if she would grieve for him if he was killed in action.

  The wild jumble of emotions had terrified him and he’d done what any man did when dealing with stuff he didn’t know how to handle. He’d shoved everything deep and stayed away. Partly because she would have prodded and poked until he’d told her all his dark secrets and revealed his pain and feelings of failure. But mostly because, well…he didn’t trust himself around her because she drew him in as no other woman did.

  His mother swore Frankie had changed since her wild adolescence days but Nate wasn’t so sure. That crazy stunt was exactly what the wild child would have done in the past. And damn the consequences.

  His jaw clenched when he imagined what those consequences would have been if she hadn’t been hooked to a lifeline. She would have plummeted to her death with him.

  What kind of reckless fool did that?

  But even as the thought occurred, he knew. It was the kind that put someone else’s life ahead of their own. The fiercely loyal kind that had your back; no questions asked—no matter what. The kind he’d known only in his best friends Jack and Ty, and then his buddies in the teams.

  Yet, without hesitation, she’d dived off a slippery ledge to save him. In spite of everything he’d done to push her away.

  Scowling down at the rapidly cooling contents of his cup, Nate wondered if he was punishing Frankie for all his confusing emotions. A prickle of warning tightened the back of his skull and his head came up just as the very woman he’d been thinking about sauntered through the automatic doors. Francis Abigail Bryce. His best buddy’s sister. The wild, exuberant girl he’d watched over for too many years while growing up—and had spent a further twelve trying to forget.

  Sucking in a slow deliberate breath, Nate pushed away from the wall and willed his body to relax, his mind to calm. It was a trick he’d learned in the teams. A trick that helped him focus only on the mission ahead while ignoring everything else.

  Dealing with Frankie was guaranteed to be as dangerous, as unpredictable and explosive as any of the classified missions he’d survived.

  Without taking his eyes off her artfully messy red-gold hair, he threw the rest of his coffee into the bushes and tossed the cup in the nearest trash bin.

  He was about to head after her when the door burst open and a young medic ran out, only to stop abruptly when she saw him. “Nate,” Paige said breathlessly. “Th-thank God.”

  Despite his impatience, Nate paused and eyed his best friend’s fiancée. “Problem, Doc?”

  “Yes,” she huffed worriedly, craning her neck and squinting into the darkness. “She shouldn’t be driving. I was just about to go wrestle her into my car so she didn’t have to drive home but I’m on duty.”

  “What I wouldn’t give to see that?” he drawled, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on her forehead. “Don’t worry, Paige. I’ve got this.”

  “Are you sure, Nate? Because Frankie is—”

  “I’m sure, Doc,” he interrupted gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll get
our girl home safely.” And with his hands shoved into his pockets, he took off into the darkness, not about to admit that he still thought of her that way.

  Our girl.

  How many times had he, Jack and Ty said the same thing? What’s our girl up to now? Surely our girl wouldn’t be so reckless as to dive off Devil’s Point into the sea?

  He caught up with Frankie in the far corner of the car park where she’d parked her battered SUV. He’d trawled the parking earlier and deliberately found a space a couple of cars down from her vehicle so she couldn’t sneak off.

  He knew the instant she became aware she was being followed when her stride faltered, so imperceptibly he would have missed it if he hadn’t been a trained observer. Or watching her long shapely legs.

  She stiffened and, without turning, said, “Go home, soldier.” As though she knew who it was before he could announce himself.

  “We need to talk,” he said, ignoring her continued use of the “soldier” moniker. She was determined to annoy him and Nate was just as determined not to be riled. He’d decided to pick his fights where Frankie was concerned and this one wasn’t worth getting into. Not now anyway. He was too tired and had other more important issues to address.

  Like was she really okay and…what the heck had she been thinking on the mountain?

  Clenching his jaw against the impulse to yell at her, Nate growled when she stopped at her SUV and dug around in her shoulder bag for her keys. So much for calming his mind, he thought with frustration.

  Without looking at him, she asked, “About what?”

  “Let’s start with you making a target of yourself in a dark parking lot, and ending with driving after being medicated on top of a long shift.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snorted, causing his jaw to harden. “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. Besides, all my shifts are long.”

  “All the more reason to be careful after taking meds,” he snapped, reaching out to snag her shoulder bag. She tried to snatch it back but the move had her sucking in a sharp breath. She abruptly swayed and in the light from the nearby security light he watched her face drain of color.