by Jen Doyle
Ian pinched the bridge of his nose. Jesus, his head hurt. “Anything else?”
“Let’s see,” Matt said. “Wendy sent us some stuff from Boston. Something about thunderstorms.” He started to explain more and then stopped abruptly. “You know, we’ve covered enough for today. Let’s save that for tomorrow.”
Amen. Ian couldn’t believe how tired he was. Exhausted, really, to the point where things were starting to get blurry again. “Okay. Consider me signed out.”
Beyond exhausted, apparently, given that he hadn’t even noticed Brooks and Brady were gone until Brooks reappeared, asking, “Are you turning in?”
Ian let go of Lyndsey’s hand and stood up, allowing Brooks enough space to check her over. He wasn’t quite ready to let her out of his sight, though.
Nope. Make that wasn’t going to let her out of his sight at all. “I’m staying with her tonight.”
Brooks grinned. “Figured as much.” He nodded to the sleeping bag that had been placed next to Lyndsey’s mat. “The sedatives are probably almost out of her system.” He gave her an injection as he spoke then stood up and put his equipment into a bag. “I’ve given her some meds for the pain so she’ll most likely sleep through the rest of the night, but I’ll check back in a few hours. If you need anything, my tent’s right over there.”
The tent Brooks pointed to was about twenty feet away. Well within shouting distance should the need arise.
There was just enough room for Ian to enter through the side flap of Lyndsey’s tent and climb in without disturbing her. He reached over her to zip up the flap, and almost jumped out of his skin when her hand went around his wrist.
“I thought he’d never leave,” she murmured.
“God, Lyndsey…” His hand went around hers as he watched her turn her head to him. “How—?”
“Hold that thought,” she said, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him down for a kiss. “Oh, God, I needed that.” She grinned. “You were saying?”
Huh? He was still focused on her kiss. An amazingly good kiss.
Oh, right. “Are you okay?”
“I’m kind of buzzed,” she whispered conspiratorially, like a little girl sharing her secret.
Not surprising. The meds Brooks had given her were pretty powerful. First there was this crazy weird high…
Lyndsey pulled at the collar of her t-shirt and peeked underneath. Raising her eyebrows, she leaned a fraction of an inch closer and ran her hand slowly down his chest. “I don’t seem to be wearing many clothes.”
All kinds of crazy ideas before…
“Ian…” Her eyelids started to droop. She took his hand and tucked it under her head. “I think I’m gonna go to…”
Sleep.
With his free hand he reached behind her, shut off the lantern, and settled in next to her.
23
The first thing Lyndsey saw when she woke up again was Ian next to her, just as he said he would be. He was lying on his side, his head resting on his arm, facing her as he slept.
She took a few minutes to assess the damage, flexing and stretching her arms, her legs. She ran her hands slowly down her body, taking note of the various bandages that covered a large portion of it. Taking note of the fact that the clothes she was wearing weren’t hers.
She felt stiff all over, and a little sore, but the bandages seemed like overkill. With the only exceptions being her shoulder and a rawness in the vicinity of her chest, she felt pretty good. Really good in fact—all heart-a-pumpin’ and juices flowing. Definitely good enough to slide a little closer to Ian and slip her hand past the waistband of his shorts as she kissed him awake. She smiled at the way he responded—his hips shifting forward, pressing against her; his hand going gently to the back of her head, pulling her close and opening his mouth to let her in.
“So I guess you’re feeling better,” he finally said, grinning as he reluctantly pulled back.
“A little achy.” She unbuttoned his shorts in order to get better access. Into his neck, she said, “Incredibly horn—”
“And it looks like Lyndsey’s back among the living again.” Brooks appeared at the side flap of the tent and unzipped it. He laughed as Lyndsey and Ian pulled apart abruptly. “You seem to be doing okay. Is there anything I can get you?”
“Water would be good,” she said, a little embarrassed but not overly so. Ian was the one who actually had to put his clothes back on. Well, okay. Button up his shorts. No actual nudity involved. If Brooks had taken another minute or two to show up, though, there was no telling how far she’d have gotten. She grinned at the thought and eased herself up, thanking Brooks for the bottle of water he handed her. “What time is it?”
Ian looked at his watch as he sat up. “Eleven.”
Huh. “It feels like it happened more than an hour ago.” She grasped at a memory of waking up and having it be dark out. And, come to think of it, she felt way too good considering how badly she’d felt right after the fight.
Ian looked at Brooks and then back at Lyndsey. “It happened yesterday.”
“Oh.” Well, never mind.
Brooks shifted forward, holding his hand out. “Your wrist if you don’t mind.”
She nodded and observed him observe her, starting with her vitals, then moving on to the bandages. She tensed as he unwrapped the one around her thigh.
He pulled his hand back. “Does that hurt?”
“No,” she said, sorry she hadn’t been able to control her instinctive reaction. There just weren’t that many men who’d had their hands between her legs. Plus it was occurring to her that, not only was Brooks the one who had changed her clothes, but there was a whole bodily fluid disposal thing that had to have been addressed in a way she simply did not want to know about. It made for a rather uncomfortable situation—though she’d had plenty of doctors and nurses handle her body throughout the years, it was rare she ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with them. “Just a little jumpy, I guess.”
“Like you’ve had way too much caffeine?” Brooks shrugged. “I’m not surprised. The way your body’s kicked into overdrive, I’d expect that to be part of it. It makes sense. This, however, does not.”
She followed his eyes down to her leg. It was coated with a clear, rubbery substance. She was pretty sure her expression showed how not happy she was to have this stuff covering her skin. “What is that? Some weird bear slime?”
“Not that.” Brooks pointed to a faint set of marks running down her thigh. “That.”
She looked closer. Nope. Didn’t see a thing.
Seeing her confusion, Brooks said, “We use the clear stuff instead of stitches. It doesn’t pull as much, but it serves the same purpose.”
“Which is what?” Lyndsey still didn’t understand why this was all over her leg, and probably under all the rest of the bandages covering her body. Although it did explain some of the stiffness she felt.
“It holds the skin together,” Brooks answered. “So it can heal.”
Was she the only one in the dark here? She looked back down at her leg. “But there’s nothing there.”
“There was,” Brooks stated flatly. “Four track marks, each seven inches long, an inch deep.” He adjusted his earpiece. “Yes, I know you said she’d heal fast,” he said into the comm. Or so Lyndsey assumed, given that neither she nor Ian had spoken a word. Either that or Brooks had just gone crazy.
Brooks looked up at Lyndsey’s face. “Zachary says ‘hi.’”
Oh. It would have been better if it were Brooks going crazy, she thought with a sinking feeling as she realized everything the medic was seeing Zachary was seeing, too.
She forced herself not to glance at Ian before looking at Brooks’s camera. “Hi, Zach.” It was one thing for Zachary to know Ian was back in her life again; it was another entirely to have it shown so clearly. Memo to self: when jumping Ian’s bones, be sure there are no commandos lurking nearby, especially if they happen to have a direct link to San Francisco.
Asking he
r to lie back, Brooks seemed to sense her discomfort as he pulled her t-shirt up enough, her shorts down enough, to take off the bandage spanning the curve of her waist. He sped through the rest of the bandages, replacing only the one at her shoulder, saying it still had some healing to do.
That left just one—the bandage wrapped around her chest, basically serving as a halter top. Brooks looked down and then back up at Lyndsey.
“You know,” he said as he sat back. “Ian can take it from here. He’s more than qualified.” He handed the supplies over to Ian. “I’ll get you guys something to eat.” Pulling clear of the tent, he stood up and walked away.
Well that was nice of him, in a really considerate way. And, yes—she was definitely hungry. ‘Famished’ wouldn’t be an exaggeration. She probably shouldn’t think too much about it though, because it would just make her hungrier and then she’d gobble down whatever he brought her and then she’d be sick.
Not that that had ever happened before or anything.
Lyndsey turned to face Ian, raising her arms so he could unwrap the bandage. Much better. Much, much better. “It’s been a long time since I played Doctor.”
Ian’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. As the layers of gauze came off and it was clear her chest was still a bit raw, Lyndsey could see the worry on his face. She suddenly remembered his holding her the day before, telling her something about a beach. A farmhouse. She remembered the fear he tried to keep from his voice; remembered thinking how nice it was of him to try and make her feel better.
“So that wasn’t from you, huh?” she said, referring to the streak of red running diagonally across her chest. “Throes of passion and all that?” He let a smile cross his face, a real one this time. So, well, that was good at least.
“You’re the one who specializes in drawing blood.” He swabbed it with disinfectant and then put on a layer of the cool, goopy stuff before starting a new bandage. “What do you remember about the bear?”
“Other than that it intruded big time on my happy?”
“We were thinking,” he said, ignoring her, although the smile had returned to his eyes, “that maybe it was a spell or something like that.”
“Right,” she answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. “Magic. Of course. That must have been it.” Because obviously, they’d all been thinking the same thing she should have been, which was that a bear shouldn’t have been able to take her down. And if that was all it was she wouldn’t have been turning beet red right now. But what she’d actually been thinking was that if she hadn’t been so entirely spent after the ridiculously amazing morning with Ian, then maybe she might have played the whole thing differently and not ended up waking up almost 24 hours later with bandages all over her body.
Ian sat back and looked at her, taking in the blush she could feel spreading over her face. His smile broadened. “You were basking?”
In the most dignified tone she could summon, she said, “I do not bask.”
Leaning forward, Ian resumed his bandage wrapping.
Lyndsey again lifted her arms out of the way. “Why was Brooks the one patching me up? Why wasn’t it you? Aren’t you trained for that?”
“You were a bit beyond ‘patching up.’” He looked at her for a second before turning away. Then he finished the bandage and pulled her shirt back down. “I thought… I wasn’t sure you’d make it.” He looked down, obviously making an effort to keep his voice steady.
“Yeah,” she said softly, feeling worse about the look in his eyes than she did about the almost dying part. Tessa had made it pretty clear that the death thing might not be as bad as being the one surviving. And of all people, Ian was not someone she wanted to be reminding of that fact. “It was pretty bad this time.”
The bits and pieces were still coming but one thing she remembered with almost crystal clarity was thinking that if she was going to have to die, she wanted it to be with the taste of Ian on her lips. That wouldn’t have been such a bad way to go. The bear stuff was much more hazy though.
Could it have been magic? It had definitely been stronger than she’d expected. Quicker. “You think it was caught up in some mystical crossfire? Just an innocent bearstander?”
Ian glared at her.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “That was at least a little bit funny.”
Usually even her bad jokes at least got a grin. But of course this would bother him—it was a pretty big deal after all, although not entirely unusual given their line of work. She took his hand. “Ian—I’m okay. Really.”
He squeezed her hand and looked down, saying gruffly, “I know.”
She reached for him, her hand under his chin, forcing him to look up at her. “Trust me—I can still take out this entire squad blindfolded.” She smiled. “And if you use this as an excuse not to take me through the next set of rapids, I’ll start with you.”
He laughed and she put her arms around him, knowing he otherwise wouldn’t touch her for fear of hurting her. His body relaxed a bit as she hugged him. Not entirely, though—there was clearly something still bothering him. But this would work for now. She leaned forward to kiss him, resting her hands on his shoulders, letting them slip down his back; stopping when he tensed and shifted.
“Sorry,” he said when she pulled away. “Your healing powers are a lot better than mine.”
She couldn’t help but grin as she remembered the scratches she’d given him the other day. They were still red and raw; she’d noticed it yesterday morning when he pulled himself out of the water the first time he tried to get dressed.
“Lyndsey…” He turned to look at her, his face the personification of guilt. “I... I should have been there. I shouldn’t have left you like that.”
“Right,” she said. “So then I could be sitting here in Brooks’s arms, crying when I woke up and he told me you were dead. I don’t think so.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “But, um, just out of curiosity…”
“I fell asleep,” he said, sheepishly. “Finished checking in with Matt, sat down on the beach, and fell asleep in the sun. Big, fat smile on my face. Thinking about you. Until Joe…” He shook his head.
So apparently she wasn’t the only one basking. Given the pained look on his face, this was probably not the time to yell, A-ha! however.
“Was Joe really freaked out?” She remembered enough to know it must have been messy. Horrific in a blood and guts kind of way.
Before Ian had a chance to answer, Brooks appeared at the tent’s opening behind her. “Is everyone decent?”
Lyndsey could see Brady setting up a chair—one of those camping contraptions that transformed from a four-inch long cylinder into a full-size lounge chair. With dismay she asked, “Is this going to involve someone carrying me?”
“No.” Brooks laughed as he held his hand out. “But get up slowly.”
He backed away from the opening and had her lean on him as she got out and walked the few steps to the chair, humoring him. He handed her an energy bar after she sat down. She took her first bite of food slowly. Perched in her chair, she felt very much the center of attention as Ian, Brady and Brooks sat on the ground, facing her.
Too much. She turned to Ian. “So, Joe. Lots of blood. How’d he take it?”
“It wasn’t the blood.” Ian shook his head. “There’s a legend about a princess—a warrior princess. Sounds a lot like the whole Sekhmet thing.” He looked up at her. “We think he saw enough to make a connection to you.”
Saw enough? She may not remember much about the fight, but she certainly remembered what all the basking was about. Heat rose to her cheeks. Um… “What exactly did he see?”
A wicked grin came over Brady’s face. “Enough to spill the beans.”
Bright pink, she thought. She must be bright, hot, fluorescent pink.
Ian glared at Brady. “Thank you for highlighting that fact. Anything else you’d like to add?” At Brady’s hasty, “No, sir,” Ian turned back to Lyndsey. “Joe saw what you did to the bear.�
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And back she was to the vague part of the day. “What did I do to the bear?”
“Pretty much bashed its head in,” Ian answered.
“Oh.” Poor bear. Especially if it really was innocent.
Of course, it was still the one that started it. That much was clear. And it wasn’t as though she had taunted it or anything. In fact, as had just been established, she really hadn’t wanted to fight it at all. It was fighting then sex, not the other way around. “I didn’t mean to. It just…” Her voice trailed off as she flashed back to an unfamiliar feeling of helplessness, of thinking the gig might actually be up; of realizing she wasn’t at all ready. Softly, she said, “It just wouldn’t stop.”
She did remember that much at least. How it just kept coming at her.
She looked up at Ian and saw something flash through his eyes, something beyond the worry and concern. She looked over at Brady and Brooks and noticed the glance they had given each other. Back to Ian. “What? What is it you’re not telling me?”
He took his time answering. “The rangers are convinced you had something in your bag that attracted the bear. Like gum or—”
“Gum?” she asked, confused. “I don’t chew gum. And even if I did—I read all the warnings. I know the bears root out that stuff. I wouldn’t…” She turned to Ian. “I wouldn’t have let that happen. I know I don’t always follow the rules, but I don’t mess around with things like that.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I know. That’s what we told them.”
“Then what’s the problem?” she asked.
Ian’s gaze focused on the woods behind her, then came back to her. He seemed a little hesitant to even raise the issue, but his voice was clear as he said, “What’s your take on Joe?”
“Joe?” she asked, even more confused with that question than about the thing with the gum. “Joe saved my life. If it weren’t for him I don’t think…” She cut herself off abruptly as a lump appeared in her throat.
