by Amy Ruttan
She’d been surprised to see him, though she’d tried not to show it. She hid her emotions well, kept them in check like any good officer.
Erica remembered him, but how much else did she remember?
Bits and pieces of his time on the USNV Hope were foggy to him, but there were two things he remembered about his short time on the ship and those two things were losing his leg and seeing her face.
He remembered her face clearly. It had been so calm in the tempestuous strands of memory of that time. He remembered pain.
Oh, yes. He’d never forget the pain. He still felt it from time to time. “Phantom limb” pain. It drove him berserk, but he had ways of dealing with it.
At night, though, when he closed his eyes and that moment came back to him in his nightmares, her face was the balm to soothe him.
A nameless, angelic face tied with a painful moment. It was cruel. To remember her meant he had to relive that moment over and over again.
And then, as fate would have it, a stack of personnel files had been piled on his desk about a month ago and he’d been told to find another general surgeon to come to Okinawa. Her file had been on the top as the most qualified.
It was then he’d had a name for his angel.
Erica.
As he thought about her name, she came into view, walking quickly toward an SUV which was pulling up. He thought he adequately remembered her beauty, but his painful haze of jangled memories didn’t do her justice.
Her hair wasn’t white-blond, it was more honey colored. Her skin was pale and her lips red. Her eyes were dark, like dark chocolate. She was tall and even taller in her heels. He was certain she could almost look him in the eye.
She walked with purpose, her head held high. He liked that about her. Mick, his old commanding officer in the Navy SEALs Special Ops, had told him a month after his amputation that the surgeon who’d removed his leg wouldn’t back down. Even when Mick had tried to scare her off.
He’d been told how his surgeon had fought for him to get the best medical care he needed. How she’d sat at his bedside. She’d seen him at his most vulnerable. Something he didn’t like people to see.
Vulnerability, emotion, was for the weak.
He’d been trained to be tough.
He’d been in Special Ops for years, even though he’d started his career just as a naval medic like Erica.
And then on a failed mission in the Middle East they’d become cornered. He’d thrown himself in front of a barrage of bullets to save Tyler from being killed. Bullets had ripped through his left calf, but he’d managed to stop the bleeding, repair the damage and move on.
Only they’d been surrounded and they’d had to resort to the old sewer system running under the city to make their escape and meet their transport.
The infested and dirty water was where he’d probably caught the bacteria which had cost him his leg, but it was his leg or his life.
For a long time after the fact, he’d wanted to die because he couldn’t be a Navy SEAL any longer. He’d almost died. Just like his twin brother, Liam, had on a different mission. He remembered the look of anguish on Liam’s wife’s face when he’d had to tell her that her husband was gone. It was why Thorne wouldn’t date. Seeing the pain in Megan’s eyes, the grief which ate at her and her two kids… It was something Thorne never wanted to put anyone through. It was best Thorne severed all ties. He wasn’t going to stop serving and it was better if he didn’t leave behind a family.
And it was his fault Liam was dead and that Megan was a widow. One stupid wrong move, that was what Thorne had done, and Liam had pushed him out of the way.
Liam had paid with his life and Thorne would forever make penance for that mistake.
Thorne had enlisted in the Special Ops and was accepted as a SEAL. It had been Liam’s passion and Thorne planned to fulfill it for him.
And then he’d lost his leg saving another.
He didn’t regret it.
Though he was ashamed he was no longer in the Special Ops. When he’d taken that bullet for Tyler he’d been able to see Liam’s face, disappointed over another foolish move.
Thorne had returned to serve as a medic ashamed and numb to life.
He wasn’t the same man anymore, and it wasn’t just the absence of his leg which made him different.
At least he still had surgery. When the assignment to command the general surgery clinic in Okinawa had come up, Thorne had jumped at it—and when he’d seen that Erica, a highly recommended and decorated surgeon in the Navy, was requesting reassignment to Okinawa Prefecture, Thorne had wanted the chance to know more about the woman who’d taken his leg and saved his life.
Had she?
His mother didn’t like the fact he’d gone back to serving after he lost his leg.
“I lost your brother and almost lost you. Take the discharge and come home!”
Except Thorne couldn’t. Serving in the Navy was his life. He might not be an active SEAL any longer, but he was still a surgeon. He was useful.
He was needed. If he couldn’t be a SEAL and serve that way, in honor of his brother he could do this.
Thorne scrubbed his hand over his face. His leg was bothering him and soon he’d head back to his quarters on the base and take off his prosthetic. Maybe soak his stump in the ocean to ease the pain. He couldn’t swim, but he could wade.
Water soothed Thorne and aided him with his phantom limb syndrome. Seeing Erica face-to-face had made his leg twinge. As if it knew and remembered she’d been the one to do the surgery and was reacting to her.
Perhaps bringing her here was a bad idea.
She knew and had seen too much of his softer side. He’d been exposed to her, lying naked on her surgical table, and Thorne was having a hard time trying to process that.
Perhaps he should’ve kept her away.
A flash behind him made him turn and he could see dark clouds rolling in from the east. It was typhoon season in Okinawa, but this was just a regular storm. The tall palm trees along the beach in the distance began to sway as the waves crashed against the white sand.
A dip was definitely out of the question now.
The storm rolling in outside reflected how he felt on the inside and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was losing his mind by bringing her here.
When had he become so morbid and self-obsessed?
He couldn’t reassign her without any just cause. It would damage her reputation and he wouldn’t do that to Erica.
No, instead he’d force her to ask for a reassignment on her own terms.
Though he didn’t want to do it, he was going to make Erica’s life here in Okinawa hard so that she’d put in for the first transfer to San Diego and he could forget about her.
Once and for all.
CHAPTER TWO
“YOU’VE BEEN HERE a week and you’ve been getting some seriously crummy shifts.”
Erica glanced up from her charting at Bunny Hamasaki, a nurse and translator for the hospital. A lot of the residents of Ginowan knew English, but some of the older residents didn’t. Bunny was middle-aged, born and bred on Okinawa. Her father was a Marine and her mother a daughter of a fisherman.
She’d been born at the old hospital down the road and seemed to know everyone and everything about everyone.
“I could say the same for you,” Erica remarked.
Bunny snorted. “I’m used to these shifts. This time of night is when I’m needed the most. Plus I can avoid my husband’s snoring and bad breath, working the night shift.”
Erica chuckled and turned back to her charting.
Bunny reminded her of her scrub nurse, bunk mate and best friend Regina. Truth be told, she was a wee bit homesick for the Hope and for her friends.
This is what you wanted. You’ll make captain faster this way.
And that was what really mattered—proving herself.
“I don’t think I’m getting crummy shifts.”
Bunny snorted again. “Commander
, with all due respect, you’re getting played with.”
Bunny moved away from the nursing station to check on a patient and, as Erica glanced around the recovery room, she had to agree.
Since her arrival a week ago all she’d been getting was night shifts.
Which seriously sucked, because by the time she’d clocked out she was too exhausted to explore, socialize or make friends in Okinawa. Then again, she was here to work, not to make friends. After her shift, she’d return to her housing on base and collapse.
Maybe she’d unpack. Though she didn’t usually do that until she’d been on-site for at least a month.
No. She’d probably just crash and sleep the day away. Except for the first day she’d arrived and met with Dr. Wilder, she hadn’t seen Okinawa in the daylight.
He’s putting you through your paces.
That was something she was familiar with.
Even though she was a high-ranking officer, she was positive the other surgeons were having fun initiating her, seeing how their commanding officer was doing it.
“Stupid ritual,” she mumbled to herself.
“What was that, Commander?”
Erica snapped the chart closed and stood to attention when she realized Dr. Wilder was standing behind her. “Nothing, sir.”
Thorne cocked an eyebrow, a smile of bemusement on his face. “You’re not up for formal inspection, Commander. At ease.”
Erica opened her chart again and flipped to the page she’d left off at, trying to ignore the fact that Dr. Wilder was standing in front of her. She could feel his gaze on her.
“I heard the whole conversation with Bunny,” he mentioned casually.
“Oh, yes?” Erica didn’t look up.
“I’m scheduling you for the night shift deliberately. You do realize that?”
“I know, Captain Wilder.”
“You know?” There was a hint of confusion in his voice.
Erica sighed; she was never going to finish this chart at this rate. She set down her pen and glanced up at him. “Yes. Of course you are. I’m not a stranger to this treatment.”
“I bet you’re not.” He leaned against the counter. “You think it’s a stupid ritual?”
“I do.” She wasn’t going to sugarcoat anything. She never did.
His eyes widened, surprised. “Why?”
“It’s bullying.”
“You think I’m bullying you?” he asked.
“Of course. I’m new.”
“And it doesn’t bother you?”
“The ritual bothers me. I think it’s not needed, but it’s not going to dissuade me from my job.”
There was a brief flash of disappointment. Like he’d been trying to get her to snap or something. She was made of stronger mettle than that and he’d have to do a damn lot more to sway her. She was here to stay for the long haul, or at least until she made captain—and then the possibilities would be endless.
“Well, then, you won’t mind working the night shift again next week.”
So much for unpacking.
“Of course not.” She shrugged. “Is that all you wanted to talk about, my shift work?”
His gaze narrowed. “You’re very flippant to your commanding officer.”
She wanted to retort something about him being on her operating table five years ago, but she bit her tongue. The last time she’d lost her cool, when she’d forgotten about the delicate and precise hierarchy, she’d lost her commendation. Of course, that had been a totally different situation with a former lover. Captain Wilder wasn’t her lover. He was just a former patient and now her commanding officer.
She was used to this macho behavior. Erica could take whatever he had to throw at her. As long as he didn’t bring up what happened during her first post, but she seriously doubted he knew all the details about it because he would’ve mentioned it by now.
Everyone always did.
“Sorry, sir.” Though she wasn’t. Not in the least.
“It won’t last forever.” He was smirking again.
“Can I be frank, Captain Wilder?”
He shrugged. “By all means.”
“Perhaps we should go somewhere privately to discuss this.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Fine, suit yourself.” The recovery area was usually quiet, but it was even more so now, and it felt like everyone was fixated on her and Captain Wilder. “If this is your way to try and make me crack, you won’t succeed.”
Thorne crossed his arms. “Really? You think this is a means to drive you away?”
“I do and you won’t succeed. If there’s one thing you’ll learn from my file, Captain, it is that I don’t give up. I won’t give up. So I’ll take whatever you have for me, Captain, and I won’t complain. So, if you’re looking to see me break, you won’t. If night shifts are what you want to give me, so be it. I’ve done countless night shifts before. It’s fine. If your plan is to ostracize me, well, then, you won’t succeed unless I’m the only one working and there are no patients. I’m tougher than I appear, Captain Wilder.”
* * *
Thorne was impressed. He didn’t want to be, but he was. She barely saw the light of day, yet she came in and did everything without a complaint. When he’d heard her mumble something about stupidity, he’d been planning to swoop in and make his kill. Push her to the breaking point.
Only she’d risen to the challenge and basically told him to bring it on.
Yes, his goal with the numerous night shifts was to ostracize her, but it wasn’t working. He admired that. He didn’t want to, but he did. She was right. It wouldn’t work unless she was working by herself out in the middle of a desert somewhere. He was so impressed.
So she’ll take whatever I give her.
It was time to throw her off.
“Tell you what. You’re on days as of Saturday. Take tomorrow off and readjust your inner clock. I’ll see you at zero nine hundred hours. Get some sleep. You obviously need it.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond; he turned and walked away, trying not to let her see his limp, because his leg had been bothering him today, and maybe because of that he’d decided to be a bit soft on her.
No, that wasn’t it. At least, that was what he told himself.
Just as she wouldn’t back down, he wouldn’t either.
Thorne would make sure she left the hospital and that it would be her idea. Even though he kept his distance he was always aware of what she was doing and when he was around her he felt his resolve soften because she impressed him so.
He was drawn to her.
No woman had affected him like this in a long time. Even then he wasn’t sure any woman had had this kind of hold on him.
Don’t think about her that way.
Only he couldn’t help himself. He’d been thinking about her, seeing her face for years.
She haunted him.
Why did I bring her here?
Because he was a masochist. He was taunting himself with something, someone he couldn’t have.
A twinge of pain racked through him. He needed to seek the solace of his office, so no one saw him suffer.
Erica had to go before things got out of hand.
He pushed the elevator button and when it opened he walked in. Thankfully it was empty at this time of night and he could lean against the wall and take some weight off his stump. Even if it was just a moment, he’d take it.
He waited until the doors were almost shut before relaxing, but just as the doors were about to close, they opened and Erica stepped onto the elevator.
Damn it.
He braced himself. “Can I help you, Commander?”
“Excuse me, Captain, but I don’t understand why you’ve suddenly changed your mind about my shifts. Didn’t you understand what I was saying to you?”
“I do understand English,” he snapped.
Go away.
“Why did you suddenly change my shift? Especially so publically. Others will t
hink you’re being easy on me or that I’m a whiner.”
“Weren’t you whining?”
“No. I don’t whine. You don’t have to give me a day shift.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
Erica pushed the emergency stop and the elevator grinded to a halt. “I want you to treat me like any other surgeon, like any other officer. I’m not green behind the ears, or however that saying goes.”
“It’s wet behind the ears,” Thorne corrected her.
“Well, I’m not that.”
No. You’re not.
Thorne resisted the urge to smile and he resisted the urge to pull her in his arms and kiss her. Her brown eyes were dark with what he was sure was barely controlled rage, her cheeks flushed red. She was ticked off and he loved the fire in her.
His desire for Erica was unwelcome. He couldn’t have a romantic attachment.
I don’t deserve it.
Emotions were weakness.
Compassion for his patients, he had that in plenty, but these kinds of feelings were unwelcome. Still, he couldn’t stop them from coming, and as she stood in the elevator berating him he fought with every fiber of his being not to press her up against the elevator wall and show her exactly what he was thinking, that he’d fantasized about her for five years.
“Well?” she demanded and he realized he hadn’t been listening to a word she’d been saying. He’d totally zoned out, which was unlike him. He rarely lost focus, because if you lost focus you were dead.
At least that was what he’d picked up in his years in the Navy SEALs Special Ops and on the numerous dive missions.
Tyler had lost focus and that was why the sniper would have finished him off, if Thorne hadn’t thrown himself in the path. Just like the stupid mistake he’d made when Liam had thrown him out of the way and paid with his life. Thorne had only lost a leg saving Tyler’s life.
Just thinking about that moment made his phantom limb send an electric jolt of pain up through his body and he winced.
“Are you all right?” Erica asked, and she reached out and touched his shoulder.
