Resisting Her Rebel Hero

by Lucy Ryder

  Goose bumps broke out across her skin and a shiver moved through her as she jerked away, her face flushing as she aimed an uncertain smile in his direction. At least he wasn’t alone in this unwanted attraction, he thought with satisfaction.

  “You too, Major,” she answered briskly, carefully avoiding touching him as she passed the infant back. She moved away jerkily, looking suddenly tired—and spooked, like she was ready to bolt.

  He tucked the baby into the crook of his arm. “Cassidy?”

  She paused in the process of pulling off the surgical gown and sent him a look over her shoulder, eyes wide and a little desperate.

  “Yes?”

  “You going to finish what you started earlier…before we were interrupted?”

  Immediately a wild flush heated her face and her eyes widened as though she thought he was suggesting they finish their interrupted kiss. Her mouth opened but all that emerged was a strangled, “Uh…”

  “I have another twenty-seven stitches,” he went on, grinning wickedly at the deer-in-the-headlights expression that flashed across her face. Her mouth closed with a snap and her look of furious embarrassment had his soft chuckle following in her wake.

  “Meet me in the ER in fifteen minutes,” she snapped, and Sam got the impression she’d considered punching the smile off his face. He was suddenly glad he was holding a newborn.

  Cassidy Mahoney, it seemed, was not a woman to be trifled with. And why that made his grin widen, he didn’t know. Maybe he was an idiot, or crazy, like his family believed.

  “What do you think?” he asked the infant staring intently up at him. The tiny girl blinked before surrendering to another big yawn, making Sam chuckle.

  “Yeah,” he snorted softly, “my thoughts exactly, sweetheart.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CASSIDY SENT FRAN GILBERT to the ER to deal with a hot, appealing SEAL, assuring herself she wasn’t a coward. Besides, Gail’s husband needed a status update.

  She found Chip Sanders being fussed over by one of the older nurses on duty. The warm, motherly woman in her late fifties squeezed the new father’s hand in silent support when they caught sight of Cassidy heading in their direction.

  His expression was so painfully hopeful that Cassidy had to smile in reassurance as she announced that he had a beautiful baby daughter and that his wife’s progress was promising.

  Chip leapt up with a joyous whoop and Cassidy had to laugh when he caught her in a huge grateful hug. She briefly returned his embrace, cautioning that Gail was still critical and that she and the baby were being transferred to Spruce Ridge General.

  After he rushed off to see his new family, she found herself smiling as she headed for the wards. There was nothing like making someone so happy they forgot all trauma and fear, she mused. Fortunately for Chip, everything had worked out fine.

  Thanks to one overwhelming Navy SEAL. A man who seemed to have a really bad effect on her. Just the sound of his deep voice sent excited little zings into places that had no business zinging and she ended up losing a good portion of her brain.

  Just as Cassidy was writing notations on the night roster, news came through that the chopper was five minutes out. After giving the night nurse a few last-minute instructions, Cassidy headed for Recovery to collect the patients for transport.

  She…they had done everything they could to ensure Gail Sanders and her baby pulled through the traumatic incident. It was now up to the OB/GYN at Spruce Ridge General to ensure they stayed that way.

  Heather was waiting for her and together they rushed the new family to the helipad, where the Medevac helicopter was already landing. While the paramedics transferred Gail and her baby to the chopper, Cassidy gave the Medevac doctor a rundown of the patient’s condition and signed the release forms. With a nod, the guy sent her an appreciative smile and an over-the-shoulder thumbs-up as he loped off towards the waiting craft. Bare minutes after it had landed, the chopper was heading towards Spruce Ridge.

  Beside her, Heather gave a huge sigh and sent Cassidy an elated smile. “Wasn’t that just great? I love it when a bad situation turns out well, don’t you?” She threw her arms around Cassidy and made her laugh with an exuberant hug. “Ooh, and wasn’t the major just wonderful? With Gail’s baby, I mean,” she added hastily, when Cassidy drew back with a dry look. “I heard Chip was blubbering like a little girl,” Heather chatted on. “Poor guy. He must have been terrified.” She stopped to sigh dramatically. “Isn’t he just dreamy?”

  Cassidy eyed her sharply. “Who? Chip?”

  Heather giggled. “No, silly. Samuel Kellan. Just wait until I tell the girls what happened. They’re going to flip. Imagine, me getting to see him in action with my own eyes?” She squeaked and gave Cassidy another quick hug. Then with a hurried, “You’re the greatest, Doc,” she turned and disappeared into the darkened hospital.

  Cassidy shook her head at the departing nurse and turned to watch as the chopper’s running lights rose over the dark mountains. With the whup, whup, whup fading into the night, she took deep breaths of cold mountain air and slowly let the tension of the night slide away.

  “Well,” she said dryly to no one in particular, “it seems Crescent Lake’s hero has done it again.”

  She wasn’t jealous that Major Hotstuff was getting all the credit for the night’s work, she assured herself. He’d stepped up when she’d needed him, it was true, but you’d think he’d performed a miracle worthy of sainthood.

  Laughing at herself, Cassidy went to tell Fran she was taking a break. Hoping to get a few hours’ sleep before the next emergency, she headed for the quiet of her office.

  The privacy hallway connecting the offices was in darkness but dim light eased its way through an open doorway. Cassidy’s pulse gave a little bump and she paused as the scene brought back unpleasant memories. Fear clutched at her belly until she reminded herself that Crescent Lake wasn’t Boston. Drugged-up vice cops didn’t break into doctors’ offices in small mountain towns, looking for prescription drugs. At least she hoped not.

  Besides, in the few weeks she’d been in town the most dangerous thing to happen had been when she’d been escorted to the local jail to treat a hot, attitude-ridden Navy SEAL.

  No, that wasn’t quite true, she amended silently. That had been when he’d pushed her up against the ER wall and rearranged her brain synapses.

  Heart hammering, Cassidy quietly approached the open doorway. She drew in a wobbly breath and peered around the door, half expecting to find crazed druggies ripping open drawers looking for their next fix. Her breath escaped in a whoosh when she found everything as it should be.

  She was sliding her hand up the wall to turn off the light when she realized the desk lamp was on and not the ceiling fixture. Heading across the room, she reached over the desk to extinguish the lamp when a soft sound had her wide gaze flying towards the shadows. The sight of Crescent Lake’s favorite son draped over the sofa with an arm flung across his face, gave her a weird sense of déjà vu.

  Straightening, Cassidy allowed her hand to fall away. It seemed the man couldn’t find anything big enough to accommodate his large body. She wondered absently why he hadn’t left, and took the opportunity to study him without him being aware.

  He was back in the faded jeans and she took a moment to admire the way the soft material hugged his narrow hips and long muscular legs while cupping more intimate places. The black T-shirt fitted even more snugly, stretching across his wide chest while straining the shoulder seams and the sleeves around his big biceps.

  It was only when she could see his lashes casting dark shadows on the slash of his cheekbones that she realized she’d moved across the room and was standing staring down at him like an infatuated adolescent.

  Darn, she thought, biting her lip, getting all excited about some guy was the height of idiocy—especially one who liked free-falling from high altitudes and blowing stuff up. One who wouldn’t be sticking around for long before he was off again, saving the w
orld.

  Turning to go, she spied a blanket over the back of the sofa and reached for it an instant before hard fingers clamped over her wrist. In less time than it took for her heart to jerk hard against her ribs, she was flying through the air to land with a bone-rattling thud that knocked the air from her lungs. She barely managed a strangled oomph as a heavy weight rolled her across the floor.

  They came to an abrupt stop against the solid desk with Cassidy’s wrists shackled over her head. A large hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her shocked gasp.

  Blinking, Cassidy found herself staring up into a dark face lit with fierce gold eyes. For an awful moment she visualized him whipping out a knife and slicing her throat before she could draw her next breath.

  She felt him everywhere—heat and hardness pressing her soft curves into the floor. During the tumble, one long, hard thigh had found its way between hers, effectively pinning her down. All she could do was gasp and stare into gleaming gold eyes as she waited for his next move.

  One second she could see her life flashing before her eyes, the next he was cursing and rolling away to lie silently and rigidly beside her. The suddenness of the move stunned her and all she could do was try to calm her jagged pulse and smooth her ragged breathing. All she could think was, What the heck was that? It had been scary and…darn it…she hated to admit it a little exciting.

  She was a sick person.

  She felt rather than saw his head turn. “You okay?”

  And he was insane.

  Sucking in air, Cassidy lowered her arms and pushed her hair off her face before rearing upright to glare down at him.

  “Are you insane?” she demanded furiously, then snapped her mouth closed when she realized that maybe it wasn’t the most sensitive thing to say to someone suffering from PTSD—if that’s what he had—but, heck, the man gave being trigger-happy a bad name.

  Not surprisingly, he didn’t look the least bit amused by what had happened. In fact, he looked mad—well, that made two of them—and embarrassed.

  Embarrassed? What did he have to be embarrassed about? She was the one who’d gone flying through the air.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face with a weary sigh and growled, “Sorry…” so softly she almost didn’t catch it.

  Her jaw dropped open. “Sorry? You’re…sorry?” She was getting hysterical again and made an effort to lower her voice, even though she felt she was entitled to a little hysteria. “You can’t attack people like that and just say sorry, Major.”

  He turned and scowled, his dark brows flattening across his forehead in a heavy line of frustration. “What the hell do you expect me to say? Besides, it was your fault.”

  Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. “My f-fault?” she spluttered, and when he smirked she had to get a firm grip on her temper before she gave in to the urge to smack it off his face.

  “Hey, you were bending over me,” he pointed out reasonably, as if he had women bending over him all the time. And after witnessing Heather’s gushing infatuation, he probably did. The jerk. “What was I supposed to think? I thought you wanted to wrestle me to the floor. I was just being accommodating.”

  Cassidy stared at him open-mouthed for a few seconds as his words sank in then uttered a sound of disbelief. She drew up her legs and shoved her hands in her hair before dropping her forehead onto her knees. She snickered helplessly for a few beats. “You are such a liar,” she said when she could talk without gasping.

  He lifted the arm he’d slung over his face to crinkle his eyes at her, his poet’s mouth pulled into a crooked smile. God, that little grin was appealing.

  “Says who? You?” He made a rude sound. “For all I know, you were just looking for an excuse to roll around on the floor with me. You know, finish what you started earlier?”

  “What you started, you mean,” she retorted.

  “Me?” He shook his head. “You have a defective memory there, Doc.”

  “And you’re delusional. I ought to throw you out.” Another mocking sound accompanied the yeah-right look he sent her and she narrowed her gaze. “You don’t think I can?”

  “Babe, I know you can’t.”

  He sounded so arrogantly male that she straightened and stared at him. “Excuse me,” she demanded frostily. “Did you just call me babe?”

  He grinned and said, “Uh-huh,” with the kind of look that had a bubble of laughter rising in her throat. Darn. She didn’t want to find him irresistible, but there was just too much to like. Despite…well, everything.

  Blowing out a breath, she dropped her head back against the desk, suddenly exhausted by her ping-ponging emotions. “Well, don’t. It’s demeaning.”

  “It is?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “Why?”

  Cassidy snorted. “You ask that when you probably call every woman you meet babe because it saves you having to remember their names.”

  Sam was quiet for a moment, as though he was seriously considering her accusation, before finally shaking his head and saying, “That’s not true. I don’t call the ward sergeant at Coronado Med Center babe.” He gave a shudder. “Or my CO’s wife, for that matter. That’s a surefire way for a guy to get court-martialed.”

  Cassidy caught herself smiling when she couldn’t afford to. He was too big, too macho, too…everything. Everything she’d told herself she didn’t want in a man. Everything she was finding alarmingly likeable.

  She pushed out her lower lip and blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re changing the subject, Major. It isn’t normal for anyone to think they’re being attacked in their sleep. I was just reaching for the blanket.”

  “That’s what you say,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her when she rolled her eyes. Snagging her wrist, he tugged her towards him, tucking her body beneath his when she lost her balance. Cassidy once again found herself staring up into his darkly handsome face while his big body covered hers.

  “What are you doing?” she squeaked, realizing his hard thigh was pressing against places that hadn’t seen any action in a long while. It was mortifying to admit those places were turning liquid with heat.

  “If you need to ask,” Sam said, sliding his hand over her hip to rub his thumb into the crease her jeans created between hip and thigh, “you’re not as smart as I thought.”

  She slapped a hand over his to stop him heading for forbidden territory. “I’m smart enough to know that whatever you’re thinking is a mistake.”

  “This,” he murmured, and dropped a kiss at the outer corner of her eyebrow, “is not a mistake.” He slid his mouth to her ear. “SEALs carry really big weapons,” he whispered wickedly. “Wanna see?”

  Cassidy’s gasp ended on a giggle at his terrible pun. Yes, please. “No!” She groaned silently. No looking at his…weapon. Or anything else.

  “Major,” she began, trying to sound firm, but her voice gave a little hitch as arousal sent heat skittering through her veins. “Let me up.” If she stayed spread out beneath him like jelly on peanut butter, there was no telling what would happen.

  His eyes had gone all dark and hot. He shook his head slowly. “I can’t,” he confessed, abruptly serious. Catching her hand, he brought it to his mouth, where he pressed a gentle kiss into the center of her palm. “I’ve tried. God knows, I’ve tried.” He nibbled on the fleshy part of her thumb. “There’s just no denying…this.”

  Her belly tightened and she let her fingers curl helplessly over his jaw, rough with a dark shadow that looked a good few hours past five o’clock. The rasp against her skin sent shivers of longing and arousal up her arm into her chest and a hot yearning set up residence in her belly. “Try harder,” she gulped.

  His smile was quick and sinful as his big hand smoothed a path of heat down the length of her arm, over her shoulder to her breast. “Babe,” he drawled, brushing his thumb over the full bottom curve and drawing her nipple into a tight bud that had his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “If it gets any harder I’ll injure myself.” He looked up from studying
the hard tips of her breasts. “You’re bound by oath to treat me then, aren’t you?”

  Cassidy slapped her hand over his with the intention of moving it to safer territory. “In your dreams, Major,” she scoffed huskily, but her resistance was fast slipping away—right along with her mind. And she was having a hard time recalling why she should care.

  “Sam,” he corrected against her throat, and Cassidy lifted her chin to give him room, her eyes drifting closed with the lush pleasure of having his mouth on her. Oh, God. They needed to stop this before…before…

  “Say it.” A shiver raced down her spine, sparks bursting behind her eyelids as he opened his mouth to suck on a patch of delicate skin. She gave a little gasp and clenched her thighs around his, the pressure setting off tiny little explosions of sensation in forbidden places.

  “Wh-what?” She tried to concentrate long enough to make sense of his words.

  “My name.” He abandoned her throat to kiss his way up to her parted lips. His thigh pushed harder against her. “Say it,” he ordered softly, pulling back when she tried to capture his mouth with hers. A moan worked its way up from her throat and emerged as a growl before she could stop it. Tunneling her fingers into his hair, she tugged him closer and closed her teeth over his bottom lip in a punishing little nip.

  “Don’t make me hurt you, Major,” she growled, and his answering chuckle was deep and dark and sent delicious sensations heating up lonely places. Heck, he was like a furnace, incinerating everything in sight—her resistance, her reservations…her mind—turning her to putty in his big, strong hands.

  His mouth smiled against hers. “Say it,” he taunted softly, applying a little hot, wet suction that made her moan. “Say it and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

  Cassidy heard a loud buzzing in her ears and in a far distant corner of her mind still capable of thought she acknowledged that he was right. She did want him and his name, “Samuel,” emerged on a husky sigh.