Taming Her Navy Doc

by Amy Ruttan

  Thorne cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

  “For avoiding you.”

  A smile broke out on his face, his eyes twinkling. “I knew you were.”

  “You did.”

  “You’re not that aloof, Erica. May I call you Erica now?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I think we’ve established that when we’re alone that’s acceptable.”

  “So, why have you been avoiding me?”

  “I thought it was for the best. I’m here to prove myself. I’m not here to make friends.”

  “Everyone needs a friend.”

  “Not me.” And she meant it.

  “Really? I’m intrigued—you have no friends?”

  Erica rolled her eyes. “I have friends, just not here. At home and not in the service.” Well, except for Regina, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “I’m talking about friends here. You need a friend.”

  “And what about you?”

  Thorne leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers. “What about me?”

  “Who are your friends, if you don’t mind me asking? You work just as much as I do, if not more. I’ve been to Scooby’s bar a couple of times and two weeks ago was the first time I saw you there.”

  “Scooby knows English, by the way.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “I was pulling your leg, but he warned me that I should tell you the truth.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I fell for that. I knew he knew English. He’s been living around the base his whole life.”

  Thorne shrugged. “It’s a bit of an initiation.”

  “I thought my crazy shifts at the beginning were that.”

  “Partly.” He grinned. “It’s true, I don’t have many friends here, being the commanding officer of the trauma department and being involved in Special Ops training. Well, as much as I can be with my prosthetic. I can’t do much in the way of water training.”

  “We can be friends.” Erica was stunned when the words slipped out of her mouth and she could tell Thorne was just as surprised.

  “Really? After that whole rigmarole you just gave me about being here to prove yourself and not make friends?”

  She smiled. “Perhaps you’re wearing me down. Perhaps I do need a friend.”

  Their gazes locked and she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks; hear her pulse thunder in her ears.

  You’re weak. So weak.

  “I’m glad,” he said, finally breaking the tension which crackled between them. “Very glad. So I can assume my apology is accepted.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. So were you really avoiding me because you didn’t want to be friends or was it something else? You know, I used to interrogate people in the Special Ops. I know when someone is lying to me.” He got up and moved toward her, sitting on the edge of his desk in front of her. Their bodies were so close, but not quite touching.

  Get a grip on yourself.

  “Fine. I was avoiding you because I thought perhaps you might’ve been coming on to me.”

  “And if I was?”

  Flames licked through her body.

  “Then it would be inappropriate,” she said, meeting his gaze. “It would be unwelcome.”

  No. It wouldn’t.

  Thorne nodded and moved away. “Good, because I wasn’t—and I wanted to make sure you weren’t avoiding me because you thought I was being inappropriate with you, Commander.”

  She should be glad, but she wasn’t. If Thorne wasn’t her captain or her former patient…if she hadn’t seen him at his most vulnerable… Well, there was no point in dwelling on the past. The past couldn’t be changed and there was no possible hope or future with Thorne. None. He was off-limits.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” She stood. “May I get back to my duties? I was about to start rounds.”

  “Of course. But, look, my offer still stands about taking you around Ginowan. As friends. I think it would do you good to get off the base and see some sights. I know you’re used to working on a ship where there weren’t many escape options.”

  “Thank you. I would like that.”

  He nodded. “It’ll do you good to get out there. We’ll meet tomorrow at zero nine hundred hours. You’re dismissed, Commander.”

  Erica saluted and left his office posthaste. Not because she was late for rounds, but because once again she found she had to put some distance between her and Thorne. Why did he have to be her commanding officer? Why was she even thinking about him in that way? She’d lost her prestigious posting in Rhode Island because she’d dated a commanding officer and when it had gone south she’d been thrown under the bus.

  “Lieutenant Griffin is mentally unfit to become a commander. Look what happened to her father.”

  Men couldn’t be trusted.

  She didn’t need this, yet he was right. Erica was lonely and, even though she tried to tell herself otherwise, she wanted the companionship Thorne was offering.

  She wanted the friendship and maybe something more.

  And that thought scared her.

  * * *

  Thorne pulled up in front of Erica’s quarters in his tiny Japanese-made turbo. She had to suppress a giggle when she saw him because the car was so small and he was so tall.

  He rolled down the window. “I’d open the door for you, but once I get behind the wheel it’s a bit of a pain to get out and back in with my leg.”

  “No worries.” She checked to make sure her door was locked and then headed for the car. She climbed into the passenger seat. She was five-ten and it was a squeeze for her too. So she could only imagine that Thorne might’ve needed a shoehorn to get his big Nordic frame into this little hatchback.

  “I thought you would’ve driven an SUV or something,” she said.

  “Not in Okinawa. Some of the roads are narrow. I do have a nice, big gas-guzzling truck on my mom’s farm back in Minnesota.”

  “Minnesota. That doesn’t surprise me, given your Viking name.”

  He grinned. “Yes, my family is from Norway. Your name, though: it’s hard to figure where you’re from.”

  “I was a Navy brat, but my mamère—my grandmother—lived in the bayous of Louisiana and I was born there.”

  “A Southern girl.”

  “Yes, sir. Though don’t ask me to do a Creole accent or drawl or whatever. I don’t have one. I was born in New Orleans, but I didn’t live there very long. I was raised on the East and West Coasts. Except for a three-year stint in Arizona.”

  “Yet you blurt out some Cajun every once in a while.”

  “A bit. I spent a lot of summers with Mamère.”

  “You’ve been all over.”

  “Yes and working on a medical ship helped with that.”

  “I bet.” He put the car into drive. “You haven’t seen Okinawa yet.”

  “No. I haven’t.”

  “You’re in for a real treat, then.”

  He signaled and pulled away, down the road to the base’s entrance. They signed out with the Master of Arms on duty. Once the gate lifted they were off down the road toward the city of Ginowan. The wind blew in her hair and she could smell the sea. She took a deep breath and relaxed. It was the first time in a long time she’d actually sat back and relaxed.

  “Where are we headed?” she asked, not that she really cared where they were going. She was just happy to be off the base and seeing the sights.

  “There’s a temple in Ginowan that’s pretty. Thought we’d stop there first. Maybe we can spot some Shisa dogs.”

  “What are Shisa dogs?”

  “They guard the island. There are stone carvings of lion dogs hidden everywhere.”

  “Neat.”

  Thorne nodded. “Not much of the original architecture remains. Most was destroyed in 1945 during the Battle of Okinawa in World War II.”

  “I did know that. My grandfather fought during that battle, actually.”

  “With the Navy?”

  “No,
the Marines.”

  “Did he survive?”

  Erica chuckled. “Of course, or I wouldn’t be here talking to you today. My father was the youngest of seven children and he wasn’t born until 1956.”

  Thorne laughed. “Good point.”

  “Did any of your family serve?”

  Thorne’s easy demeanor vanished and he visibly tensed. His smile faded and that dour, serious face she was used to seeing around the halls of the base hospital glanced at her.

  “Yes. My brother.”

  “Navy?”

  “Yes.” It was a clipped answer, like he didn’t want to say anything further, and she wasn’t going to press him, but she couldn’t help but wonder where his brother was. Did he still serve? Was Thorne’s brother in the SEALs? Maybe that was why it was a bit of a sore spot for him.

  Either way, it wasn’t her business.

  Just like her past wasn’t his business.

  “So, tell me about these dogs.”

  Thorne’s expression softened. “I’m no expert on Okinawan history. Your best bet is to ask Scooby.”

  “Oh, yes? The man who supposedly doesn’t know English? ‘That’ll be no problem’,” she air-quoted.

  Thorne laughed with her. “Again, sorry about that.”

  “I know, I know. It was all a part of my initiation. I’ve had several now; I should be used to them.”

  “Scooby wants to warn you off of me and vice versa.”

  “Vice versa?” she asked. “Why? What have I ever done to him?”

  “He thinks we’re both too pigheaded and stubborn to get along well.”

  Erica chuckled. “He could be right. I am stubborn, but not without just cause.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Now she was intrigued and a bit worried. “From who?”

  “My commanding officer. He said you were quite adamant that I not be removed from the ship, even if the orders came direct from the White House.”

  She laughed. “That’s true. When it comes to my ­patients. Some find it annoying.”

  “Not me,” Thorne said and he glanced over at her quickly. “It’s the mark of a damn fine surgeon. Which you are.”

  Heat flamed in her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  “There’s no need to thank me. I’m speaking the truth. I don’t lie.”

  “That’s funny,” she said.

  “What?”

  “That you don’t lie, when you clearly did.” She regretted the words the moment she said them.

  Good job. You are finally starting to make friends and you insult that one and only friend.

  Instead of giving her the silent treatment he snorted. “I didn’t really lie per se.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “I just withheld the truth.”

  Erica raised an eyebrow. “Right. And the definition of lying is…?”

  Thorne just winked at her. “Here we are. I hope you wore socks. No shoes in the temple.” He parked the car on the street and they climbed out. It was good to stretch her legs. The little temple was built into the side of a hill surrounded by an older part of town, which was bustling. The temple was overgrown with foliage and the stairs up to it were crumbling.

  “It’s beautiful.” And it was. Erica had traveled around the world, and had seen many places of worship, but there was something about this temple which struck her as different and captivating. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “Shall we go in?”

  “Are we allowed to?” she asked.

  “Sure.” And then without asking her permission Thorne reached out and took her hand, sending a shock of electricity up her spine at his touch. He didn’t seem to notice the way her breath caught in her throat when she gasped.

  Instead he squeezed her hand gently and led her through the packed streets toward the temple. What was even weirder was that she didn’t pull away.

  She let him.

  She liked the feeling of her hand in his. It was comforting, and in the few past relationships she’d had, she could never recall sharing such a moment of intimacy. There had been lust, sex, but hand-holding? Never. Such a simple act gave her a thrill.

  Don’t think like that. It means nothing. You’re just friends.

  Right. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

  They were just friends.

  That was all there was between them and that was all there could ever be.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THORNE DIDN’T KNOW why he reached out and took her hand to lead her across the busy Ginowan street. It was instinctive and a gentlemanly thing to do. They were halfway across the street when he realized that he was holding Erica’s hand, that he was guiding her through the maze of people, whizzing motorbikes and cars ­toward the temple.

  She didn’t pull away either like she had before.

  Erica let him lead her to safety. It was an act of trust and Thorne had a feeling that trust didn’t come too easily to her.

  Not that he blamed her. People couldn’t always be trusted. He’d learned that well enough both in his service as a SEAL and a surgeon.

  “Yes, Dr. Wilder. I quit smoking.”

  “No. I know nothing about threats to your country.”

  Thorne could usually read people like a book. It had been one of his strong suits when he was in the Special Ops. Erica was hard to read though and maybe that was another reason why he was so drawn to her.

  He did like a challenge.

  You shouldn’t be thinking this way. She’s your second in command. She made her feelings quite clear to you the other day.

  She was a puzzle. One he wanted to figure out. He was a sucker for puzzles. Thorne cursed himself. He couldn’t be involved with her or any other woman.

  He couldn’t emotionally commit to someone.

  Not in his line of work.

  Not after seeing what it had done to his brother’s widow, to his mother.

  When he’d lost his leg and woken up in that hospital in San Diego, unaware of where he was and how he’d got there, his first memory besides Erica’s face haunting him had been seeing his mom curled up on an uncomfortable cot, a few more gray strands in her black hair, dark circles under her eyes.

  It had almost killed his mother when Liam had died.

  No. He couldn’t do that to someone else and he couldn’t ever have kids either. He didn’t want to leave his children without a father should something happen to him.

  You’re not in Special Ops anymore. What harm could happen here?

  A shudder ran down his spine. What harm indeed? Corporal Ryder probably hadn’t thought his life would end during a simple training exercise. That it would end because of a shark bite.

  Take the risk.

  It was a different voice in his head this time, one that he thought he’d long buried, and it wasn’t welcome here now.

  No. She’s off-limits.

  “I think it’s going to rain,” Erica said, glancing up at the sky.

  “What?” Thorne asked. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

  “Rain. It became overcast quite quickly.”

  Thorne didn’t look at the sky; he glanced at the ­delicate but strong hand in his. It felt good there, but it didn’t belong. He let it go and jammed his hands into his pockets.

  Her cheeks bloomed with pink and she awkwardly rubbed her hand, as if wiping away the memory of his.

  “Maybe we should go inside,” Thorne offered, breaking the tension between them.

  “Sure,” she agreed, but she wouldn’t look at him. “Lead the way.”

  He nodded and led her up the walkway toward the temple entrance. This had to stop. She was affecting him so much. Usually he was so focused on his work. Now he was distracted and he knew he had to get control of this situation before it escalated any further. She’d agreed to be friends. They could be friends.

  Who are you kidding?

  He watched her as she made her way to the small, almost abandoned Ryukyuan temple. It w
as made of wood and stone and embedded in the side of a hill. It was more a tourist attraction than it was a functional temple, as most Okinawans practiced at home in honoring their ancestors.

  She paused and touched the stone at the gate, glancing up, and her mouth slightly opened as she marveled at the architecture. It was old, mixed with new, as parts of the small temple had been destroyed during the battle of Okinawa.

  “Beautiful.” She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling and her honey-blond hair blowing softly in the breeze. She was weaving some sort of spell around him. He just wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. The thought startled him because, even though it wasn’t new, he’d been trying to ignore the desire, the lust which coursed through him. He didn’t recall ever having this urgency before with women he dated in the past.

  This need.

  This want.

  “I thought you wanted to get out of the rain?” Thorne asked.

  “Right.” She blushed and stopped at the door to take off her shoes and Thorne followed her, glad he was wearing slip-ons so he wouldn’t have to struggle with laces and his leg.

  “Welcome. You’re welcome to look around; we just ask that there be no photography,” the guide said from behind the desk as they entered the temple.

  “Thank you.” Thorne paid a donation to allow them in and explore the history of the temple. Erica was wandering around and looking at the carvings and the paintings on the wall.

  “Are these the lion dogs you were talking about, Thorne?”

  “Ah, yes,” the guide said, standing. “The Shisa is a protective ward to keep out evil spirits. They’re often found in pairs.”

  Thorne nodded and then moved behind Erica, placing his hand on the small of her back to escort her further into the temple, where a few other tourists were milling about, reading about the history and photographs on the walls.

  Erica leaned over and whispered, her breath fanning his neck. “I really know nothing about Okinawa history.”

  “I know a bit.”

  “What religion do Okinawans practice?”

  “There are several forms, but it all falls under the Ryukyuan religion. A lot of the worship has to do with nature.”