by Lucy Ryder
Ruben shook his head. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I need your unique skills.”
Sam lifted an eyebrow. “You want me to kill someone? Blow something up? Infiltrate enemy territory?” He tutted and shook his head. “This from the man sworn to uphold the law.”
“Not those skills, you moron. I’m talking about the medical degree you acquired on the taxpayer’s dime. I need a doctor.”
Sam arched his brow sardonically. “You sick? Your girlfriend find out she’s pregnant with quadruplets?”
An irritated look crossed Ruben’s face. “No, I’m not sick. And when do I have time to date?”
Sam shrugged, unconcerned with his brother’s love life. “How should I know? Most days you’re so busy nagging I can’t wait to get away from you. Besides, the idea of discussing your sex life is just disturbing. I don’t want those visuals in my head. I have enough nightmares.”
“Yeah, well, I’d like to have a sex life but I’m too busy protecting the innocent people of Crescent Lake from moody badass SEALs. Besides, I have a problem only you can solve. I just got off the phone. Doc Monty was run off the road up in Spruce Ridge. They had to cut him from his car and now he’s in County Gen with concussion and a shattered hip.”
“Holy… Is he all right?”
Ruben sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I think so. Anyway, we need a doctor. Like now.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, you already have a doctor. The one from Boston? The one Hannah says you have a thing for?”
Ruben’s eyes glinted and his mouth turned up in a smirk that Sam was sorely tempted to remove. Ruben shrugged. “Well, she’s beautiful, single and doesn’t hold up bar counters in Spruce County. What more could a guy want?” He took a drink. “In fact, I was thinking of going over to the inn later and telling her about Old Monty. Maybe ask her out.” And when Sam growled a warning low in his throat, Ruben snickered. “Maybe even stay the night.” Then he burst out laughing. “Jeez,” he gasped when he finally caught his breath, “you should see your face.”
Sam folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes, barely resisting the urge to reach across the bar and punch someone.
“You do remember I’ve been trained by the government to kill scum like you, don’t you?” he drawled dryly, but that only made Ruben laugh even more until he was laughing so hard people from the booths in the back were craning their necks to see what was happening.
Sam ignored them and shook his head with disgust. “You’re pathetic, you know that?”
Finally Ruben wiped his eyes and took a drink of beer. “No more than you,” he snorted with a wide grin. “It’s like you’re sixteen again and mooning over Cheryl Ungemeyer.”
“I did not moon over Cheryl. I was temporarily…um…distracted by her endowments. Especially the summer she wore that string bikini. I was young and impressionable and she was an older woman.” He paused a couple of beats. “I’m neither young nor impressionable now.”
“Cheryl’s small fry compared to Doc Boston,” Ruben told him, waggling his eyebrows. “Any idiot can see that.”
“You keep your eyes, and everything else, off her endowments,” Sam warned half-heartedly, pointing a finger at his brother. He knew Ruben was just yanking his chain, but it wouldn’t hurt to warn the guy off. “She’s a doctor, for goodness’ sake.”
Ruben shorted with disgust. “You should listen to yourself,” he said, before finishing his beer in a couple long swallows. He set the empty bottle on the bar and rose. “I guess I’ll have to look around for another medic, then,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “Maybe that guy from Redfern. The nurses all had a thing for him last time he helped out.”
Sam snarled and reached over the bar to grab his brother’s shirt. He yanked him close until they were nose to nose, before saying mildly, “You do that and you’re a dead man.” He let Ruben go with a shove. “Tell Doc Boston I’ll see her in the morning.”
Ruben laughed and smoothed the front of his shirt before reaching for his sheriff’s hat. “Tell her yourself, stud,” he said, slapping it onto his head as he turned to saunter from the bar, leaving Sam with the nasty suspicion he’d just been played.
*
It was past ten when a quiet knock at the door distracted Cassidy from the article she’d been reading about surgical procedures for head trauma patients. All very cutting edge and fascinating but she was having trouble concentrating.
Wondering who on earth could be visiting her at such a late hour, she tossed the journal aside and rose from the rumpled bed to pad across the floor to the door.
Expecting to see the innkeeper, she was unnerved to find a US Navy SEAL propping up the door frame, hands shoved into jeans pockets, radiating enough virility and attitude to give a woman bad ideas. Ideas she should be done with.
The shoulders of his jacket were damp and rain dotted his dark, ruffled hair. His eyes and most of his face were shadowed, leaving his left cheekbone and half his mouth and strong jaw illuminated by the hallway light.
Heat rose in her cheeks as his hooded gaze boldly swept from the top of her tousled hair to her bare feet. Her grip tightening on the door, Cassidy barely resisted the urge to slam it in his face or—worse—cover her breasts. And since he’d already seen every inch of her naked body, that, and slamming the door, would only make her look ridiculous.
It was the first time she’d seen him since he’d rocked her world and she couldn’t help being conscious of her nudity beneath the thin tank top and long track pants she wore as pajamas.
“Major,” she said coolly in greeting. A dark brow rose at her tone and his mouth kicked up at one corner.
“Doctor,” he mocked, and after a few beats, during which he continued to study her silently, Cassidy gave in to the urge to flick her tongue nervously over her lips. His eyes went hot at the move.
Finally, when she could no longer stand the rising tension, she demanded, “What are you doing here, Major?”
“Invite me in and I’ll tell you.”
Wary of his strange mood, Cassidy eyed him suspiciously. “Why can’t you tell me out here?”
A slow, wicked smile curved his mouth. “You want the entire floor to hear what I have to say, babe?”
Flushing at his reminder of the night they’d spent together, she narrowed her eyes and fought the urge to slam the door in his face-even if it did make her look like an idiot. He must have read her mind because he pushed away from the wall and stepped into her, forcing her back into the room to avoid coming into contact with his hard heat.
“Come in, why don’t you?” she drawled dryly.
“Why, thank you, Dr. Honey,” he mocked softly, “don’t mind if I do.” He angled his shoulders, intentionally brushing against her as he moved past. A shiver of awareness spread across her skin, tightening her breasts. Cassidy retreated while Sam continued into the room then turned to lean back against the door, hoping it would support her wobbly knees.
He simply took over her space with his presence, leaving Cassidy fighting twin urges to plaster herself against him or run like hell.
He shrugged off his battered leather jacket and tossed it over the back of an armchair, clearly intent on staying a while. She eyed the way his dark blue T-shirt molded to wide shoulders and a strong back and her hands tingled at the memory of running them over hard muscles covered with warm, satin-smooth skin.
Thrusting his hands on his narrow hips, Sam took his time looking around the room, making Cassidy painfully aware of her rumpled appearance and the large bed dominating the space. Glowing bedside lamps gave the room an intimate glow that had her recalling in perfect detail the last time they’d been in a room together.
He turned, catching her gaze over one broad shoulder. The hot, sleepy expression in his eyes told her his thoughts were moving along similar lines.
“You bailed.” He sounded vaguely accusing, which surprised her sin
ce she’d thought they’d both wanted to avoid any “after” awkwardness. Talking about it now was not only redundant, it was…mortifying. She wanted to forget the whole incident. But if he wanted to discuss it, the least she could do was be honest.
“Look, Major, I’m not looking to start…well, anything. It…it was a mistake,” she finished firmly.
His eyes darkened and his jaw flexed. “A mistake?”
Suddenly parched, she pushed away from the door and headed for the small bar fridge, determined not to let him distract her with memories of “the sofa interlude.” It was over and she wasn’t going there again.
She bent at the waist to grab a bottle of water and looked over her shoulder, only to catch his smoldering gaze on her backside. She straightened with a snap and “Can I get you something?” emerged on a breathless little squeak.
Unconcerned that he’d been caught ogling, Sam’s brooding gaze traveled up the length of her body until his eyes met hers, heat and accusation in his expression. He shook his head. “I’m good.”
Yeah, right.
She headed for the window with her bottle, hoping a little distance would help her breathe in the suddenly hot, airless room. She turned and propped her hip against the windowsill. “Why are you here, Major?” she demanded, twisting off the cap. “Are you ill? Find out your girlfriend has an STD?”
His lips twitched but he shook his head slowly, eyes scorching and intense as he watched her lift the bottle and drink thirstily. He licked his lips, his gaze travelling from her mouth, down her throat to her tight breasts. He didn’t look sick, she thought a little wildly. In fact, he looked fabulous. And hot. Dammit.
“Is something…um wrong?” she asked hoarsely, before clearing her throat irritably. “Do you need a doctor?” Her gaze checked him for blood and found none.
“Yes… No.” He moved across the floor and her heart skipped a few too many beats when he came to a halt less than a foot away. His gold eyes studied her as though he’d never seen her before. “You do.”
“I—what?” What the heck was he talking about?
“Monty had an accident on his way back from visiting his daughter. He’s in Spruce Ridge General.”
Cassidy gasped and felt her face drain of color. She tightened her hand on the plastic bottle. “Oh, God, is he all right?” She hadn’t known the older man long but had come to like and respect him enormously.
“Shattered hip. He’ll be out of commission for a while.”
“You know as well as I do that he won’t be back,” she told him quietly. “After something like that the workload would likely kill him. Besides, he should be enjoying his retirement.”
“He’s been treating people here for the past forty-five years. Hell, he is the hospital.”
“He still needs to enjoy his retirement.”
“Tell that to him. Besides, Crescent Lake’s tourism has soared over the past five years. The hospital needs someone younger who can cope with the workload.” He paused. “So. You interested?”
Cassidy’s heart skipped a beat but she knew enough not to read too much into his question. He wasn’t asking because he wanted her to stay. “What about you?”
He sent her an impatient look. “I already have a job,” he reminded her shortly.
“Yes,” she agreed shortly. “Yelling ‘boo-yah’ as you jump from high altitudes.”
“That’s right.” His brows lowered and he folded his arms across his chest. “You make it sound like a kids’ game.”
“No, it’s not and I appreciate that you risk your life with every mission, but you’re more than a SEAL, Major. You’re more than infiltration, interrogation and demolition.”
“Yeah,” he agreed silky. “I’m damn good at my job.”
“You’d have to be. But you can’t be a SEAL for ever.”
A dark brow rose arrogantly. “I can’t?”
Rolling her eyes, Cassidy recapped the water bottle with an irritated twist. “You know you can’t,” she said flatly, slapping the bottle on the windowsill with a snap. He caught and held her gaze with an intensity she felt like a burn in her gut. “Eventually you have to retire or move up the ladder.”
“Or come home in a body bag.”
“Don’t say that,” she snapped, suddenly furious with his dry flippancy. The thought of him being KIA made her queasy. She gulped, pushing her hair off her forehead with unsteady fingers. “God, don’t say that. Just…just…don’t.”
“Every soldier, every sailor thinks about it,” he reminded her gently. “It’s the reality of being in any country’s armed forces. Hell, before every mission we write letters to our families and get our affairs in order.”
Cassidy felt tears burning the backs of her eyes, pressure squeezing her chest like a vice. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes to counteract the sudden threat of tears. “That’s… Dammit. That’s not fair.”
A slow, satisfied smile lit his dark features. “Sounds like you care what happens to me,” he said cockily, the masculine confidence in his voice sending her belly dipping and her temper rising. She wanted to simultaneously slug him and wrap her arms around him.
“Of course I care,” she snapped hotly, before realizing how he might interpret her words. “You’re…you’re a valuable member of the country’s special armed forces. I’d care about anyone I knew going off to fight a dangerous war.”
His looked skeptical. “Riiiiight.” He stepped closer to plant his big boots either side of her bare feet and slapped both hands on the windowsill at her hips, effectively boxing her in. Then he leant down to brush his lips against the delicate skin beneath her ear.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t miss me?” he demanded softly.
Cassidy gulped and her head spun with the warm, male scent of him. “I…uh.”
“Not even a little?” he whispered, giving her earlobe a tiny nip that sent shivers of pure sensation spreading throughout her body. The back of her neck prickled, her breasts tightened and familiar heat pooled between her thighs. And when his mouth opened against her throat she moaned, tilting her head to the side to give him room. She wanted to beg him to stop one instant and the next—
“Samuel.” Her voice emerged, husky and aching with a desire she could no longer deny. She wanted him. Needed the hot slide of his flesh against hers more than she needed her next breath. “This is a mistake.”
“No,” he rasped against her neck. “Inevitable.”
She gave a breathless moan when his hands curled around her knees, pushed them gently apart to step between them until his heat and hardness pressed against where she ached.
“Admit it,” he insisted softly, his hands smoothing a line of fire up her thighs to her hips. “Admit that you’d miss me if some scumbag terrorist took me out,” he said against her mouth.
Dizzy with the force of her emotions, Cassidy slid her palms up his long muscular arms to his shoulders and fought the urge to clutch him close. She wondered briefly why she’d imagined she could ignore him, especially when he touched her like this. Put his mouth on her. Talked about dying.
“Yes,” she breathed against his mouth, sliding her hands into his thick hair. “God, yes,” and caught his mouth in a kiss that showed him exactly how much she would miss him. How much she’d come to need him despite her determination not to.
Sam growled deep in his throat and lifted her, yanking her hard against him. And when her legs snaked around his hips, he turned towards the rumpled bed.
“Show me, Cassidy,” he growled against her throat. “Show me how much you’d miss me.”
CHAPTER NINE
WHEN CASSIDY WOKE the following morning she was naked and aching in deliciously intimate places. Again.
Only this time she was alone and didn’t have to scramble around looking for her clothes.
Sliding her hand over the bed where Sam’s big body had heated up the sheets, she told herself she was relieved. But the truth was the hollow feeling in her chest made her feel lik
e a hypocrite.
In the dark, intimate hours of the night she’d pressed her body to his, arched into his hungry caresses and moaned when he’d moved his hot, moist mouth over every inch of skin and thrust his body into hers. And when their ragged, harsh breathing had calmed and their skin cooled, he’d pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her as she’d slid bonelessly into sleep.
As if he’d never let her go.
He’d made her feel safe and protected as she hadn’t felt in a long time—as though within his arms she’d found her shelter from the storm.
Which was ridiculous.
Samuel J. Kellan was the storm. He’d blown into her life when she’d been determined to hide from the world. He’d turned her inside out with his sexy smile and hot, seductive kisses that made her feel—things she didn’t want to feel—and then he’d given her a glimpse of the caring, honorable man beneath the tough, broody SEAL exterior. Worst of all he’d made her admire him when she’d been convinced he was exactly like Lance Turnbull.
Okay, so she liked him too—a lot—but that was beside the point. He’d soon be back with his team, plotting mayhem and destruction in the world’s hottest hotspots and she’d be…here. A world away.
Her one-night stand had just become two, and she didn’t know what that meant, how she felt about it or if she wanted more. Heck, if he wanted more.
Fortunately, by the time she walked into the hospital she’d managed to get her wildly unstable emotions under control. Until she saw him—tall and darkly handsome—surrounded by animated adoring women and looking like a large hungry predator in a hen house.
As though his senses were attuned to her, Sam’s head lifted and his eyes met hers across the room. The force of his gaze hit her like a sledgehammer, leaving Cassidy stunned and gasping for air because that look said he saw things she’d rather keep hidden. Things that had become painfully obvious last night when he’d talked about dying. Things she’d refused to acknowledge. Even to herself. Oh, God. Even with the truth staring her in the face.
