A few months later he’d been staying in a Chicago hotel, attending a training event. The noise in the middle of the night that time had been smoke alarms as fire had ripped through the five-star building. He’d fought his way through blinding, choking smoke, assisting people, showing them the way to fire escapes and stairs, going back time and time again to retrieve others who’d been injured in the confusion.
The local fire chief had praised him, but also called him a fool. His lungs had been smoke damaged and he’d suffered minor burns. Maybe if only one event had happened, things would be different. But because the two events had happened in such a short period of time they seemed to have left an indelible mark on his brain and senses.
He ignored the way his heart clamoured in his chest—furious with himself—and picked up his phone. ‘Travis King.’
He listened carefully, only asking short questions. ‘When? Who? Condition?’
In his head he was already walking out the door. He finished the conversation and pulled on his uniform, lifting the bag he always had packed and near the door. He opened the side pocket and threw in some personal items. A few casual shirts, joggers, charger for his phone and a book he was midway through. As he lifted his phone to push it into his back pocket, the photo he’d been looking at before he’d gone to sleep flashed up.
Ali. Dressed in casual clothes, a black top and jeans, with a slim gold chain around her neck and long gold earrings dangling from her lobes. Her blonde hair looked as if it had been caught in the wind and she was laughing at something someone had said to her. The picture had taken him by surprise. Ali wasn’t just good-looking—she was stunning, in a natural kind of way. Her lips were coral in the photo and she was holding a glass of rosé wine—it must be her signature drink—and when he’d received the photo his eyes had widened at the whole effect.
Travis wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected. He wasn’t the kind of guy who judged people on their looks, but he couldn’t pretend that if Ali had walked into a bar next to him, he wouldn’t have taken a second glance.
He pushed the phone into his pocket as he grabbed his car keys. He had a long journey ahead. He could easily drop a few messages to Ali on the way. It might even be fun, distract him a little from the task ahead.
* * *
Ivy checked the board in the hospital ward. It gave a quick view of who was working, any outstanding tasks and how many patients were currently in the unit. She had a few jobs lined up for today. A number of the crew had spent too much time in the sun. Several needed to have irregularly shaped moles and blemishes removed. A couple needed biopsies and their lab was equipped to look at those samples. Removal was a simple procedure for a surgeon like herself. Back on land, this would be done by a specialist dermatologist, but in the middle of the ocean it was her task.
Tony gave her a nudge. ‘I’ve assigned Medical Corpsman Donnelly to the marine operation today. It will be good for him. Confidence-building.’
She nodded. The marines on board were doing an exercise at sea today. There was always a member of the medical team assigned in case of difficulties. She’d done the job on many occasions herself. But Medical Corpsman Donnelly was a good choice. He was young, enthusiastic and eager to learn. He’d be stationed at one of the battle dressing stations and could call if assistance was required. But routine exercises took place every few days at sea. A bored and unmotivated crew wasn’t good for anyone. Training was crucial for all.
‘What about SMO Bridges?’
Tony glanced at his watch. ‘He should be landing in Hawaii any time soon. I have a colleague who’ll give us a call later to let us know how things have gone. And our new SMO will be with us shortly.’
Her heart plummeted straight down into her shoes.
‘Already? That was quick!’
They hadn’t even considered her for the position? She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t devastated. All her hopes dashed in a few words.
Tony laughed. ‘Anyone would think this was a military organisation.’ It was clear he hadn’t even thought of her to fill the position and that hurt too.
‘Who is it?’ asked Ivy. ‘Anyone I know or have worked with?’ She felt prickly. They were sending someone else to do a job that she could have taken on herself.
‘I have no idea. The commander hasn’t told me. Just sent me a message to say to expect a new SMO in the next hour.’
Ivy set up a trolley next to her. She put on her best Ivy smile. It was important not to let others know how put out she was. Jealousy and bitterness were hardly good teamwork components. ‘Well, I’m going to be busy cutting out dodgy-looking moles.’
Tony shook his head at her terminology.
It prompted her to ask, ‘Do you know how many words there are for mole in dermatology?’
He shook his head.
‘Seventy-two,’ she said with precision. ‘I did a piece of work as a medical student for a professor of dermatology. I assessed every patient his department had seen in a month. Every new referral, the outcome, diagnoses, procedures and follow-up care.’
‘And that’s what you learned, that there are seventy-two words for mole?’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘What I actually learned was that the locum service they’d brought in to help were much more effective and efficient than the staff of eight dermatologists he had working under him. But that report?’ She lifted her hand and blew into her fingers. ‘Disappeared in a puff of smoke.’
‘I bet it did. Well, have fun. I’m off to do some blood work on a case that’s got me stumped. Talk later.’
Ivy had just finished excising her fifth mole of the day and covered the stitches with a dressing when one of the nurses stuck her head around the door. ‘Have you heard?’
Ivy snapped off her gloves and started washing her hands. ‘Heard what?’
‘New SMO has landed. Word is he is hot.’
‘Jenny!’ said Ivy in mock disgust as she laughed. Jenny disappeared, clearly to spread the message among the rest of the staff.
Hot. Interesting word choice. One that she’d used herself just recently. About ten seconds after Rob had sent his picture and the absolute instant that Liz had answered her phone.
‘What...?’ Liz had asked dopily.
‘Hot. Rob. He’s just sent his photo. Wait and I’ll forward it to you.’
She waited the obligatory few seconds then heard the shriek at the end of the phone. ‘Girl! He’s not hot—he’s smokin’!’
Ivy had smiled at the photo of the broad-shouldered, tanned guy with dark hair and bright blue eyes.
‘Do you think he’s used a filter?’ asked Liz. Ivy could imagine her tilting her phone and staring critically at the screen.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Ivy. ‘Though I did think about putting a filter on my photo.’
‘You don’t need a filter,’ scolded Liz quickly. ‘You’re beautiful just as you are.’ There was a pause. ‘Do you think it could be an old picture? Maybe it was taken ten years ago.’
‘Why do you always have to look for the worst in people?’ said Ivy.
‘Because there’s gotta be a catch. A guy this good-looking doesn’t have a girl someplace?’ Liz’s deep southern twang was getting more pronounced. ‘Or maybe he does? Maybe he has a wife? Ten kids?’
Ivy sighed and leaned back on her bed. ‘Stop it, will you? Let me have five minutes of thinking this guy might (a) actually exist, (b) be interested in me and (c) have no hidden agenda. I know it’s a revelation, but I’d like to enjoy this just a few minutes more.’
‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ said Liz, then she let out a deep sigh. ‘But, honey, if this guy is the real deal, grab him and hide him someplace quick.’
Ivy cut the call and held the phone to her chest, closing her eyes and letting her imagination drift back to San Diego. Her dreams had been interesting that night.
The ship rocked and she was jolted back to reality as the surgical instruments she’d just used rattled on the silver tray. It wasn’t often she felt the momentum of the sea. Aircraft carriers were normally so big that they were pretty stable to travel on.
She tidied away the instruments. They would be autoclaved and repackaged for use again. Curiosity was seeping through her. She desperately wanted to know who the new SMO was. It was likely someone who’d done the role for years. But would that be someone the staff would describe as hot?
‘Whoa!’ The noise came from the corridor outside.
Ivy stuck her head out as one of the nurses had both hands outstretched between the bulkheads. She smiled at Ivy. ‘Just getting my sea legs. Don’t know what’s happening today.’
‘Me either.’ Ivy nodded. She glanced down the corridor but there was literally nothing to see, only grey bulkheads.
She clicked the cupboard doors and drawers closed in the treatment room. She might as well go back and check in the med bays. Make sure everything was okay there whilst they were experiencing some stormy weather. It was at times like these she sometimes wished there was a way of seeing outside.
Another swell hit and she almost slid along one wall, barely managing to stay on her feet.
As she turned the corner she pressed both her hands to either bulkhead—the corridors were slim enough to do that—just like her colleague had a few moments before.
There was noise from the bottom of the corridor and Tony appeared, laughing as he banged into the bulkhead. ‘Trust you to bring the bad weather with you,’ he joked to whoever was coming behind him.
There was a deep throaty laugh. Seconds later, a tall, broad man in uniform appeared at the end of the corridor, his face partially hidden by his cap.
His strides were long as he walked towards her.
She squinted, then frowned. No.
Ivy gave her herself a shake, unable to move her hands to the bulkhead because of the movement of the vessel.
She looked again.
The man’s footsteps faltered as he removed his hat from his head.
He pulled back in disbelief. ‘Ali?’ he asked.
It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Not on her ship. Not in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Her nose twitched. Maybe her blood sugar was low—it was nearly lunchtime. She probably needed to eat.
‘Rob?’
Tony’s head flicked back and forth between them like some kind of kids’ toy, a look of both bewilderment and amusement on his face. ‘What is this? Pick a new name day?’
Neither of them answered. Rob’s bright blue eyes were searing into hers. His eyes...in the flesh. So much brighter than they’d been in the photo.
Tony waved his hand, realising this was probably something he didn’t actually want to know about. He put one hand out towards Ivy. ‘Flight Surgeon Ivy Ross, this...’ he moved his other hand ‘...is our new senior medical officer, Travis King.’ Tony cleared his throat a little. ‘Try and use real names, folks, and I’ll leave you to get to know each other.’
His eyebrows were raised as he walked down the corridor, beating the hastiest retreat she’d ever seen.
She couldn’t stop looking at Rob. No, Travis. What kind of name was that? A warm wash of embarrassment flooded through her. He was probably looking at her and trying to weigh up if she looked more like an Ali than an Ivy.
Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and words just wouldn’t form. Being lost for words was new for Ivy. She could always hold her own. But she’d never had the experience of having a man she’d exchanged flirty messages with appear in front of her as her new boss.
This was like a bad romance movie. This wasn’t real life. The guy she’d been flirting with had just walked into the job she’d wanted for herself. And, no, he wasn’t that old. He must have only been an SMO for a few years himself. They hadn’t sent in some old sea dog with years of experience; they’d sent her a guy from a pin-up calendar with only a few more years of experience than herself. Something burned down deep inside her.
One edge of his mouth quirked upwards. They were entirely alone in the long corridor—a seldom seen event, even on a ship as large as this. ‘So, how’s the insurance business?’ he asked.
Her tense muscles relaxed a little and her tongue unstuck itself. She pushed the brief wave of jealousy out of her head. This had to be oddest situation in the world. Was this how he wanted to play things? Thank goodness. She’d half expected him to give her a dressing-down about the online untruths. That could be military style from a boss who wanted to make his mark.
She gave him a careful look. ‘There might be a spanner in the works,’ she said quietly.
‘Really?’ He took a few steps closer. And she felt it. She actually felt it. A shimmer in the air between them. It was the way he was looking at her. The way his eyes connected with hers, and there was a hint of a smile on his face. A smile that lit up his whole face and made him even sexier than before. Or maybe it was his height, his presence—things that really didn’t translate in a photo. The weight behind his footsteps, the bulk of muscles. Whatever it was, it was a whole lot more than she could ever have imagined.
‘What’s the spanner, then?’ His voice was husky and low as he stepped closer again. ‘Is it a little insurance fraud?’ It was his turn to let his eyebrows rise. He was almost laughing now.
‘Ouch,’ she said in mock horror. ‘I think there might have been some fraudulent activity in international banking, not just in insurance.’
‘Touché,’ he said, nodding slowly.
He was beginning to seem more like a Travis now. Rob was maybe too traditional a name for this guy. Travis might be a whole lot more interesting than she could ever have imagined.
They both jumped as a siren sounded. She recognised it immediately. ‘Emergency team, battle dressing station seven.’
Ivy let out an expletive and turned to run towards the nearby med bay and grab some supplies. For the briefest of seconds she saw a wave of something pass over Travis’s eyes. It was the tiniest of moments, but it was there. It was definitely there.
As she ran down the corridor he was so close he was almost at her back. He threw his bag into a corner in the med bay and stripped off his uniform jacket, grabbing the things she thrust towards him. ‘Lead the way,’ he said.
Battle dressing station seven was several decks beneath them and she ran the whole way, with Travis breathing down her neck. He kept talking as they ran. ‘Any ideas?’
‘There was an exercise today with the marines. One of our medical corpsmen is with them. He must have sounded the alarm.’
‘It must be the weather,’ murmured Travis. ‘My jet nearly couldn’t land.’
Wow. Because she couldn’t see outside, she had no idea what it looked like. But if one of their jets carrying their new SMO almost hadn’t landed, the whole aircraft carrier was clearly being affected, and now, with a potential incident with one of their teams, things must be bad.
A sharp blast of strong wind hit them, along with a steep temperature drop. Tony approached, running from another direction. Their corpsman was on the deck, surrounded by dark figures. As she pushed them aside, she could see a pool of blood.
As she dropped to her knees she could barely hear a thing through the noise of the weather outside. One of the panels in the ship was open, exposing the ship to the elements. Now she understood the noise and drop in temperature.
She immediately pressed down on the wound on the marine beneath her and shouted in Donnelly’s ear, ‘What happened?’
The next moment there was a bellow above her. ‘Marine, is anyone still outside?’
She couldn’t hear above the muffled noise, but the next minute Travis was over at the entrance along with one of the other marines and they were physically pulling someone up a line. Seconds later they pulled
the man over the rim, falling back onto the floor and yelling to the other marines to seal the door.
Ivy realised there was a third guy leaning against a bulkhead with blood pouring down his forehead from an open wound.
The panel was sealed by four marines, fighting against the wind. As soon as the door was slammed, her ears popped, adjusting to the pressure change.
Travis took charge again. ‘Tony,’ he said, pointing to the marine with the open head wound. He himself started an immediate scan of the marine he’d just pulled back inside. ‘Report, Corpsman,’ he ordered Donnelly in a gruff manner.
Ivy lifted the edge of the marine’s jacket, which she’d been pressing, and it only took a few milliseconds to assess the situation. ‘I need a tourniquet,’ she shouted, hoping someone was listening.
Donnelly started to talk next to her. ‘Marine Felipe was injured during the line descent. The heavy winds threw him into the side of the ship and knocked him unconscious. Marine Ajat attempted to assist but was caught on a piece of panelling, and when they tried to pull him up, his arm was injured.’
Marine Ajat, the man currently underneath her. ‘He’s torn an artery,’ she said, as another medical corpsman appeared and pulled a tourniquet from an emergency kit near her. She didn’t need to give the woman instructions. She’d heard the conversation and immediately placed it appropriately around the upper arm to try and temporarily reduce the blood supply to allow the team to move him.
‘What about you?’ she asked Travis about the marine on the deck next to him.
That man was conscious but squirming under Travis’s examining touch.
‘Suspected fracture of the tibia,’ he said. ‘Can we strap this and get him up to the sick bay?’ By now, their whole emergency team had arrived. All of them with equipment. When a medical emergency was sounded on the aircraft carrier the response was always immediate. No matter who was on duty or off, all responded.
His Blind Date Bride Page 5
