She shrugged. ‘Boredom is a terrible thing. I play it while listening to an audiobook.’
‘What kind of book?’
‘Usually a crime thriller. Something that makes me think.’
This was the kind of chat she’d imagined they would have had back in Gino’s in San Diego, and her head was struggling to marry this up with sitting in a tiny office with her new boss.
She ran her fingers down the side of her mug. ‘You don’t know how much I wish this was a glass of rosé.’
She looked up and his blue gaze meshed with hers. For a moment neither of them said anything, then Travis gave a sigh. ‘Maybe it was for the best we didn’t meet that night.’
She couldn’t help the wash of disappointment that swept over her. ‘Why?’
‘Because if we’d already met...’ he pressed his lips together and tilted his head to one side ‘...who knows what might have happened?’
There it was. The buzz. The one that she’d hoped and expected to be there. Electricity simmering in the air between them. The what-if question...
She gave a slow nod and crossed her legs, wishing that she was wearing something sexier than scrubs. ‘That might have proved...interesting.’
He nodded. ‘Would you have told me your real name?’
‘Would you have told me yours?’
They were both smiling at each other again and Ivy gave a little sigh. ‘I guess I might have if...’ she held up a hand and raised her eyebrows ‘...I decided that I liked you.’ She was teasing him and she could tell that he liked it.
He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. His coffee rested in his hands. ‘Oh, so it’s like that, is it? What were my chances? Do you think you would have liked me?’
She leaned back and also put her feet up on the desk, clashing with his as she took a sip of coffee and looked up through lowered lids. ‘Jury’s still out.’
‘Are you always this sassy?’
‘You have three sisters and you think this is sassy?’
She could almost reach out and grab the electricity that was in the air between them. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a conversation like this. Flirting. Fun. With lots of sexual tension. This was even better than she’d imagined.
‘True.’ He nodded. He took his feet back down and leaned forward. ‘Truth is, I would have told you my real name, and what I did, probably within the first five minutes.’
She paused and licked her lips before mimicking his movements. Her head rested on her hand and they were only a few inches apart.
‘I think I might have done the same.’
He smiled at her. A slow, sexy kind of smile. ‘Why the fake profile?’
‘Probably for the same reason as you. We have serious jobs. I don’t really want people to track and trace me unless I’m sure about them. One stalker was enough, thanks.’
‘You had a stalker?’ He pulled back and looked genuinely surprised.
She gave a brief nod. ‘Bad enough that he was prosecuted. I still have a restraining order in place against him.’
‘Wow. That’s serious stuff.’
She nodded. ‘Thankfully I live next to a whole host of marines who have my safety on their radar. They helped when needed and got me through.’
‘What about your family?’
She gave a wry laugh. ‘Oh, it was before he moved to Australia, so my brother did the brother thing. He came down with a baseball bat in his car. Thankfully, again, one of the marines helped him understand he couldn’t help if he landed himself in prison.’
‘Were you scared?’
The question took her by surprise. Not many people had the front to actually ask something like that. She paused, collecting her thoughts before she answered. ‘Yes, and no,’ she admitted. ‘He was creepy. I worried about him sneaking his way into my house, or having some hidden camera that could watch me when I slept. But on the few occasions he approached me on the street I wasn’t scared at all.’ She gave a thoughtful nod of her head. ‘I could take him.’
Travis looked at her with interest. ‘No wonder you didn’t want your real identity out there on the dating site.’
‘I just wish I had thought of it earlier. It could have saved me a lot of trouble.’
Her coffee was cold now, and she hadn’t done a single bit of the work she’d intended to. But her concentration was well and truly shot. The only possible thing she could think about now was the perfect specimen in front of her. He was wearing some kind of sports deodorant. It was clean and fresh with a hint of musk. She, in turn, was wearing nothing. Not a spot of make-up, or any kind of perfume or scent. Thank goodness she’d brushed her teeth before coming along to the med bay.
‘I like your hair down,’ Travis said quietly. ‘You have waves.’
Her hand cupped her slightly straggly curls. ‘In the humidity—which I’m sure we’ll see—I have pure frizz. If I spend a few hours on it I have corkscrew curls, or poker-straight hair. Just depends how the mood strikes me.’
His smile was kind of lazy. ‘What did you have the night you were meant to be meeting me?’
The memory flooded back to her. The nerves, the expectation, the excitement. She gave a shrug. ‘Actually, I more or less had this. You didn’t exactly give me much time to get ready.’
Travis held up his hands. ‘Hey, I was just off a plane. I didn’t want to waste any time. I thought I was about to meet some woman who’d been teasing me for the last few weeks by message. Instead, I ended up sad and lonely, sitting at a bar on my own.’
‘Stop it!’ The gentle slap of her hand made a connection with his warm skin, and instead of pulling away she just left it there. ‘You thought you were getting some hottie, and instead you would have got me.’ She gestured down at her pale blue scrubs, instantly remembering how underdressed she was. The words struck a pang somewhere in her heart. That hidden part of her that always felt not good enough. They’d come out without much thought. Thank goodness she’d framed it as a self-deprecating joke.
Travis moved forward, back to his earlier position where his face was only inches from hers. ‘I would have been delighted to get you.’ His finger lifted and gently stroked the side of her face in a touch as light as a butterfly’s wings.
She didn’t hide her instinct. Her face leaned naturally towards his hand. ‘Who says you’re not a hottie?’ he whispered. The words were so soft and husky they caressed her skin. Her hand came up and closed over his, holding it there against her cheek.
‘There’s rules against this,’ she whispered.
‘I know,’ he replied, but he didn’t move. ‘But right now I’m pretending we’re not aboard the Coolidge in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Right now I’m pretending we’re in Gino’s in San Diego and you’ve just drunk your rosé, me my beer, and we’re wondering what happens next.’
The tiny hairs on her arms prickled. She closed her eyes and let her mind carry her off to that exact place. There she was, wearing her jeans and black top, and for some strange reason a pair of black, patent, impossibly high heels. She didn’t even own such a pair of shoes but, hey, it was her dream.
‘What are you wearing?’ she said in a low voice.
He didn’t hesitate. ‘Black T-shirt and a pair of jeans.’
His other hand moved, drifting over the back of hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. ‘I’m liking what I see,’ she whispered. His hand moved again, this time threading through her hair. Her breath caught in her throat. She knew what happened next. And she’d never wanted something so badly in her life.
‘Me too.’ She sensed him move closer, even though her eyes were closed, and held her breath, waiting for his lips to come into contact with hers.
There was a noise outside. The sound of a trolley rumbling past just as the ship gave a slight roll. They both jerked apart, just in
time to hear the trolley crashing off a wall.
Ivy’s heart dipped in disappointment. There were voices outside. The scramble of a few of the staff catching the wayward trolley. ‘Jeez, that probably woke half the patients. Get that stowed away safely. You know better than to leave equipment hanging about.’
Ivy recognised the scolding voice as belonging to Lynn, one of the nurses.
Her heart was racing in her chest, her breath pathetic gasps. She sat back in her chair—the good chair. ‘Whoa.’
Travis looked momentarily lost. Just like he had when the alarm had gone off on his first day. And now, like then, it was so quick, so fleeting, that if she’d blinked, she would have missed it.
He gave the smallest shudder, then looked at her again. This time something had changed. No, everything had changed.
‘Ivy,’ he said in a tight voice, standing up and pulling at his T-shirt, as if he were straightening his uniform jacket. He gave a shake of his head. ‘Apologies. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m your commanding officer. I’m sorry. That should never have happened. That can never, ever happen again.’
She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Most of her words were stuck somewhere at the back of her throat. Her brain was working just fine. The words in there were firing back and forth. Are you joking me? Why didn’t you kiss me? What’s wrong with me? How dare you? We were this close—this close!
She stood up and swallowed, even though her mouth was bone dry.
It was as if some kind of shutter had come over his eyes. He was looking at her, without looking at her. Every part of her brain was telling her to be professional. Reminding her that he was her commanding officer.
Whilst there were rules in the navy, there was no coercion here. She had been a willing participant in what had just happened. But what made her stomach curl the most was the fact that if he hadn’t moved she would still be in his arms.
He had changed his mind. That tiny little voice in her head spoke instantly. You’re not good enough.
But she wouldn’t listen to that voice. She wouldn’t allow those feelings to flood her like they had in the past. Instead Ivy took a moment, put her hands on her hips and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Don’t start what you can’t continue,’ she said haughtily, before turning on her heel and marching out the door.
CHAPTER SIX
TRAVIS WAS TRULY the king of bad decisions. He shouldn’t have started. And more importantly he shouldn’t have stopped.
He could still sense the feel of Ivy’s soft hair through his fingers and smell the fruit-scented shampoo she used in her hair.
He’d been lost. He’d been lost in the moment and lost in the person. For a few minutes they’d been in the bar they had supposed to have met in. Off this aircraft carrier, away from the rules and regulations that would frown on them getting together. Travis King had been away from trauma, away from surgery and away from the memories that stayed stuck in his head...almost.
Until that second when the loud bang had shot him back there. Back to the mortar fire and hiding while trying to tend to wounded colleagues. Travis knew exactly what was wrong with him. He knew it was PTSD from the mortar attack or the hotel fire. He suspected it was a combination of the two.
Sometimes a smell or sound made him momentarily freeze and relive one moment or another. Thing was, these events passed in a flash. Most people around him wouldn’t even know that something had happened. But twice now, when he’d been with Ivy, he’d had a wave of something. And what’s worse, he knew she’d noticed.
He was good at hiding things. He’d been doing it for the last four years. He didn’t want to see a shrink or a counsellor. He didn’t imagine that having PTSD on his medical record would allow his career to progress much further. Even though he knew that, in theory, it shouldn’t, he had a more cynical view. He was a surgeon. A damn good surgeon. He was here because he deserved to be.
But...
Travis drew in a deep breath. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened last night. Oh, he was exactly sure what he’d wanted to happen. But that noise had brought him to a clanging halt.
There was something about Ivy Ross. Her smile. Her shape. The flirting.
He’d spent a long time waiting to meet someone. She was right in front of him. But even considering being in a relationship seemed to trigger a warning in his brain. He was letting his guard down. Opening his mind to new possibilities.
And that was entirely where he was going wrong. Letting his guard down meant the chance of revealing parts of himself he didn’t want to share. If things progressed with Ivy, how could he deal with his issues? The truth was that even though he used the apps, he hadn’t actually thought he’d ever meet someone who would make him contemplate the future. A few dates then things were finished. That was how he’d played it for the last few years. No awkward questions. No expectations. But Ivy was peeling back parts of him that he wasn’t sure he was ready to expose.
But there was more. She thankfully hadn’t noticed that night, but he’d been reading her file. Ivy Ross had ambition. The navy liked her. She’d never had anything less than glowing reports and was being considered for the next SMO position that became vacant.
Tiny pieces were falling into place. She’d been on this ship, right here, when Isaiah Bridges had been taken ill. Instead of shipping him in, they could have given her the position that, from the look of her record, she’d earned. Of course, they would then have had the issue of having to find another flight surgeon for the Coolidge—Ivy might be good, but she couldn’t do two jobs. He wasn’t always sure how the top brass made their decisions. If they’d promoted Ivy, it might have been difficult for the existing team to think of her as SMO. Respect was sometimes hard to get in the navy. He could only imagine that they wanted her to take up her first SMO post right from the outset. That was how he had started his—and on a ship a little smaller than this one. They probably just wanted to let her first post be a bit easier than this one. A number of the SMOs were due to retire soon. Ivy would get her chance. But how did she feel about him stepping in here when she was, literally, waiting in the wings?
Travis groaned and leaned back in his chair. As SMO he had a cabin where he could actually reach out his arms and not touch the wall on either side of him. But it still felt claustrophobic. His phone pinged and he glanced down as his heart jumped in his chest, only to plummet instantly.
It was his family group chat. His mum and dad, brother and three sisters could talk for hours, and sometimes he preferred to sit it out and pretend there was no signal in the middle of the ocean.
He knew why he’d been so interested in his phone. He was hoping for a second that it might be Ivy. But, of course, it wouldn’t be. Not after how he’d treated her last night. He shook his head. He could hear all three voices of his sisters in his head if he actually told them what had happened. They would kick his...
Every time he closed his eyes he could see the furious flash in Ivy’s eyes last night. The angry tilt of her chin as she’d looked him straight in the eye and put him clearly in his place.
It had turned him on more than ever.
There was so much that could go wrong here—the first thing being that he was her commanding officer. It didn’t matter that their ‘maybe’ relationship had started somewhere else. It didn’t matter that Ivy was obviously a strong independent woman who would clearly never be influenced by him to do anything she didn’t want to do. There were rules, lines that couldn’t be crossed.
And he’d wanted to cross them all. Completely. Truth was, he still did.
Travis looked down at his clenched fists. It was time to hit the gym in the ship. Anywhere he could take out some of this frustration that was building in his body.
* * *
Ivy was calm. She was playing a game of imaginary dodgeball. If Travis was likely to be in a place, she made sure she was elsewhere.
She had a job to do. But that didn’t mean they had to overlap. She’d had to do a few minor surgical procedures on some crew members and run a few of the clinics. Healthcare and preventative medicine on the aircraft carrier was essential.
The phone was ringing as she was writing up her last set of notes. ‘Flight Surgeon Ross?’
‘Yes, what can I do for you?’
‘This is Chief Petty Officer Cho. We’ve had a distress call from a boat requiring medical assistance.’
Her skin prickled. ‘Any details?’
‘Come topside. We’ll brief you when you get here.’
She paused for a second. ‘Does SMO King know about this?’
‘We couldn’t get a hold of him, and there’s no time to wait.’
That didn’t sound quite right, but Ivy didn’t have time to question it. She grabbed a medical pack and shouted to one of the corpsman to accompany her. Her heart was already fluttering in her chest. Medical assistance on another vessel would likely mean her ending up at the end of a cable—not entirely her favourite place to be. But there was no time for hesitation.
Before she had a chance to think much further, she was topside, wearing her helmet and thick jacket and heading to one of the helicopters. The officer shook his head at the corpsman. ‘Only room for one, and time is of the essence. Go back and try and find SMO King.’
As soon as she climbed on board, she could hear through her com. ‘What do you have?’
The pilot turned. ‘Call for assistance. A woman has gone into hard labour.’
He flung out his arm at the blue-and-green ocean for miles around them. ‘And what a place for it.’
Ivy screwed up her face. ‘Why on earth would a heavily pregnant woman be in a place with potentially no medical assistance?’
The pilot shrugged and then pulled a face. ‘Who said she was heavily pregnant?’
Ivy felt her stomach clench. ‘Oh, no. How pregnant is she?’
She leaned back as the helicopter took off. ‘Thirty—’
His Blind Date Bride Page 7
