But her tone was that little bit more brittle than he might have expected. As though there was something he was missing.
Tia raked her hands through her hair in a gesture he recognised only too easily as an indicator of just how wound up she was.
‘I can’t just fall back into your arms, Zeke. I won’t. You don’t understand. I... There are things I need to tell you.’
‘More apologies for amputating my leg?’ he countered. ‘I don’t need to hear them.’
Moreover, he didn’t want to hear them. Especially after all he’d put her through.
And then, suddenly, she seemed to gather herself together and straighten her shoulders.
‘I’m not apologising for amputating your damn leg,’ she burst out. ‘I didn’t come back here for that. And I didn’t come back here for us. I’ve moved on, Zeke. Just like you told me to do.’
‘If I truly believed that, I would walk away,’ he stated flatly, ignoring the way every fibre of his body ignited in protest. ‘But I can still read you, Tia. I know you want me.’
She bit her lip but she didn’t deny it. He’d known she wouldn’t.
‘Fine. So, what, then? Do you expect me to put your abrupt return to the area down to curiosity? You’ve already admitted you read about me in the papers, and knew I was back in Westlake. And suddenly, you’re back here. A mere ninety minutes up the coast. And don’t tell me it’s because your father is here in Delburn, because he has been here for several years now and you haven’t been back before.’
‘How do you know that?’ retorted Tia, giving away more than she intended to.
‘Because I’ve been back at Westlake for the last three years and you haven’t been anywhere near the place.’
Without warning, Tia went white. He started forward, concerned she was about to faint, then checked himself as she stared him down. But it was the sheer misery on her face that really got to him.
‘You’ve been here?’ she breathed. ‘For the past three years? When I read the article in the paper, it never mentioned how long you’d been here.’
‘Westlake lifeboats offered me a position as coxswain when they heard I’d left the military,’ he ground out, realising too late that he might have given himself away by his unintentional admission. ‘I needed the job.’
‘You said you would never come back here. Ever. You swore it. I read that article in the paper but I never dreamed you’d been here that long.’
‘My God, Tia, I was a twenty-year-old kid when I made that stupid vow.’
She didn’t need to know that the first thing he’d done when he’d straightened his life back out had been to return to Westlake—the place he’d abhorred as a kid—in the hope that Tia might also return home.
‘Does it really surprise you that I’m not that broken, damaged, defeated, shadow of a man you thought I was?’
He ignored the part of him that wondered if she’d been entirely wrong in that conclusion. The part of him that wondered if he would ever get over the guilt he felt that he was still alive when members of his squad—his best buddies—were gone.
Was it something he would ever get used to?
‘No, it’s just. I didn’t know. I never imagined...’ She shook her head. ‘The point is, I didn’t come here to revisit old history.’
‘Well, you didn’t come back just to make amends with your father,’ he carried on grimly, as if it could distract her. ‘Up until five years ago we were still a happily married couple and I know that in a decade of marriage you never once took up his olive branches.’
He couldn’t be exactly sure what it was that he’d said, but suddenly her face grew harder. More determined. Another spark of the feisty Tia.
‘Is this the game we’re playing, then, Zeke? You’re rewriting history? Claiming that we were a happily married couple?’
Her voice swirled around the room, around him. Shaky, low yet unexpectedly dangerous.
‘Weren’t we?’
‘Constant deployments meant that we rarely spent longer than a week together at a time. So it always felt as though it was fresh, and thrilling, and new. But we weren’t a couple as most people would consider that to be. We didn’t really share things, at least not our fears, or our flaws.’
‘Do many couples?’
‘The strongest do.’ She shrugged. ‘You and I were two kids running away from our pasts, if for different reasons. And whilst I never thought that that IED defeated you, if we’re being fair you were damaged long before then.’
‘Say again.’ Less of a question, more of a challenge.
But to her credit, Tia didn’t back down.
‘The fact that you never let your childhood, that...monster who called himself your father, break you was one of the qualities which made you the kind of loyal, dedicated marine who everyone wanted on their squad.’
It was sad how much he actually ached to believe her.
He nearly did.
Instead, he began a long, slow clap.
‘Impressive. Have you been preparing that little show for a while, Tia? You almost had me convinced.’
‘But, of course, I didn’t,’ she threw back without missing a beat. So fiery, so steadfast—the girl he had fallen in love with. ‘Because you won’t believe me no matter what I say. You never would. You decided what was true for yourself, and anyone else’s opinion be damned.’
‘I trusted you, too. Once,’ he countered pointedly.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You didn’t. You were so used to having to rely on yourself, knowing that no one else out there would look out for you, that you found it difficult to let me in.’
‘But I did let you in.’
‘No, you never did. Because when that last mission went wrong...’ She faltered, then regrouped. ‘When you ended up losing part of your leg, I was the last person you wanted. You pushed me away. Not just once, Zeke, but again and again.’
This was it. This was his opportunity to say all the things he’d been imagining telling her for half a decade. Instead, he found he couldn’t. His head was all over the place, and things were unfolding in a way that didn’t match any of the many and varied scenarios that he had envisaged.
He felt reactive. Quite different from the proactivity with which he was usually characterised. And suddenly he found himself falling back on the arguments he’d used back then. When he’d been angry, and desperate, and grieving for the life, the career, he’d had but would never have again. When the only thing he’d felt as though he’d been able to control had been stopping it from impacting on Tia’s life too.
‘It was for the best.’
‘Not for me. Not back then.’
‘You didn’t need the burden of a cripple.’
‘You still believe that’s what you are?’ she cried out.
‘No, of course not.’ He’d got past that long ago. The army rehab centre had made sure of it. Wallowing hadn’t been an option; the centre had ensured the guys were all up at dawn, making their beds, carrying out daily ablutions, just as they’d all done years before in basic training. It had instilled the work ethic back in them, treating rehab like a training routine, like a job, and tea and sympathy had been far, far down the list.
It was what guys like him—ex-military—had needed. That discipline, those expectations, the rules, had been familiar and comforting.
‘Forget I said that.’ He hauled off his sodden, icy tee, furious with himself. ‘I’m lucky. I got off lightly compared to so many guys.’
What was wrong with him? Why was he acting like the arrogant chip-on-the-shoulder kid he’d thought he’d left behind a long, long time ago?
‘Do you still blame me for amputating?’
‘Say again?’ He stood up incredulously.
He had come to terms years ago with the fact that Tia hadn’t had any choice. His role
in black ops meant that only a handful of people would ever have known where he was. Tia’s commanders would have had no idea that his squad were even within a hundred miles. And his commanders couldn’t have changed her posting or it would have been a sign that they were planning a black ops mission.
Besides, there had been no reason at all to think that that particular mission ran any real risks. It had been a complete curveball to all of them.
But when the IED had gone off and the medevac had come in, her little hearts-and-minds field hospital had been the only one they could have hoped to get to. The fact that she had been the only doctor in that camp was just devastatingly misfortunate.
Then again, she had saved his upper leg, and maybe even his life. If she hadn’t amputated above his ankle when she had, then by the time he’d got to the UK he would probably have lost the knee as well. If he’d even survived the journey back, of course.
He knew that. He’d known it by the time he’d got out of physio at the UK hospital, eight months later. Which brought him right back to the question of why was he acting like a belligerent teenager now?
Was it because she was the only person in the world—other than his old man, and he didn’t really count—who had made him feel...less?
Less of a person. Less of a husband. Less of a man. The nightmares he’d had back then—still now—certainly didn’t help matters.
‘Then why did you push me away?’ she croaked out.
How was he supposed to answer that?
Balling up his tee, he stuffed it viciously into his motorbike rucksack and pulled out a clean, fresh one from another compartment, before turning around to face her again. He wasn’t prepared for the way her eyes were locked onto him. Or the desire that burned within those darkened irises.
She wanted to know that he didn’t blame her for amputating? That he had forgiven her. He could say something, he could try to explain, but he’d never been good with words. He’d always been more of an actions man.
So maybe actions would convince her now.
Deliberately, he crooked his mouth and dropped his arms, delaying pulling on his fresh tee. The sense of triumph swelled as her gaze didn’t slide away, instead holding fast. Her pulse leaping a moment at her throat, those flushed patches high on her cheeks, her lips parting a fraction.
His entire body reacted in that very instant. Carnal and primitive.
The next thing Zeke knew he was striding back across the room, snaking one hand around the back of her neck, and hauling her willing mouth to his.
That thing that had always been between them—so bright, so electric—blasted back into life with a power that almost knocked him backwards. Making him feel truly alive again.
After all this time.
His mouth feasted on hers, greedily swallowing up her gentle moan of pleasure as she matched his kiss, stroke for stroke, depth for depth. His body exulted in the feel of her against him, her breasts splayed against his chest, her heat against his sex. And still the kiss went on.
For an eternity.
Or longer.
It was almost unconscionable when she stiffened suddenly, lifting her palms to his chest, exerting some pressure.
As unpalatable as it was, he made himself release her. She stumbled back, cast around wildly and fluttered around her desk.
‘We can’t do that,’ she whispered. ‘Or...at least...we shouldn’t.’
As though she thought that the wooden workspace could somehow prove a barrier between them, but the fact that she was leaning on it, her hands pressing on it as though subconsciously testing how sturdy it might be, belied her words.
He took a step forward.
‘Why shouldn’t we? We both want it.’
‘Because someone might walk in.’ Her ponytail bounced from side to side in agitation, though her lack of denial spoke louder than anything.
He’d always got a kick out of that catch in her voice. Desire laced with a need to at least appear to be responsible.
‘Then we’ll close the blinds.’ He twisted the handle with a couple of deft flicks of his wrist.
Her breathing became a fraction shallower.
‘Then we hang the sign on the door.’ He flipped around the sign that warned people: Medical Examination in Progress—Do Not Disturb. ‘And finally, we lock the door.’
‘It...it doesn’t have a lock.’ She swallowed hard.
Zeke glanced around, spotted the hard-backed dining chair from the rec room and, spinning it around with one hand, wedged it under the door handle.
‘Consider it locked.’ He shrugged. ‘Any other concerns, Tia?’
She didn’t reply immediately, she simply stared at him with overly wide eyes from across the room.
He advanced on her, leisurely, no rush, giving her a chance to object even if he hoped she wouldn’t.
‘I told you, it’s Antonia.’ Her voice was thick, loaded. He recognised it only too well and it was like a stroke of her hand against the very hardest part of him.
‘Tia,’ he repeated easily.
But he didn’t know if he was still challenging her, or merely trying to remind her of who she had once been.
Who he had once been to her.
Another step, then another. And still she didn’t move. He might have thought she was rooted to the spot but for the faint twist of her body towards him. As though it knew what she wanted, even if her head didn’t.
Or was pretending not to.
‘Here’s your chance, Tia,’ he murmured, so close now he could have reached out and touched her.
He knew it was virtually killing her not to melt into him. Her desire was etched into every soft feature on her delicate face. Plus, he was barely staying in control himself. He ached to reach out and touch her with a need that was excruciating. The one thing he was gripping onto so tightly was the knowledge that it was even more excruciating for Tia.
Just as it deserved to be.
She flicked a tongue out over her lips, her voice little more than a whisper.
‘My chance?’
‘To step away,’ he rasped.
The charged silence arced between them and still he steeled himself.
‘I’m not moving,’ she whispered, her voice cracking.
‘No,’ he agreed.
The undercurrent rolled. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she lifted her shoulders to him. A silent plea for him to move.
He held his ground.
‘Suddenly I find I want to be sure,’ he ground out. ‘If you want more, come and get it.’
‘Zeke...’
Her eyes gazed at him, tortured. Another victory, he told himself, forcing his expression to remain neutral.
‘Your choice. I don’t want there to be any question about this, Tia.’
For a moment she didn’t move but then slowly, seemingly painfully, she lifted her clenched fists off the desk and pushed herself backwards, if only half a step.
Zeke could feel himself teetering on the edge of the abyss, struggling to keep his footing even as he knew he was too far gone. The ground felt as though it were shifting beneath him, even though he knew it was merely in his head.
And then, incredibly, she stepped forwards again. Towards him. Unsteadily. As though her body was acting on its own orders rather than any executed by her brain. But the expression on her face was so painfully familiar it was as though he were igniting from the inside out.
As she finally moved in front of him, going toe to toe, the last of his control went up in spectacular flames.
What the hell was she thinking?
The question flitted briefly into Tia’s mind, but then Zeke pinned her against the wall, his deliciously hard body bearing on her with wicked heaviness, and everything liquefied.
The past few hours had been so charged, so heady, that she’d almos
t lost sense of herself. Thrown back into the past, yet still rooted in the present. It felt surreal.
The first kiss had been like coming home, Tia thought weakly, even as it made her entire body ignite at his touch. But this one had her as though her body was no longer under her own control, reacting to him on an utterly primal level, whilst her brain had no say whatsoever in the matter.
She was vaguely aware that she should object, but instead her hands were threading through his hair, her mouth tingling with every brutal pass of his tongue, her body exalting with the hard, altogether too familiar pressure of Zeke against her.
‘Where the hell did you go?’ he demanded hoarsely, as though he was barely able to drag his mouth from hers enough to ask. As though he hadn’t intended to ask, but instead the words had been ripped from somewhere deep inside.
She didn’t know how to respond other than to shake her head minutely and press her lips to his again. Words could only complicate things.
And ruin them.
She just wanted to revel in the kiss that was still pounding through her, hammering along her veins, firing her up as though the last five years had never happened.
Something sloshed around her head, a thought perhaps, maybe a reminder—no, more than that, a warning—but she couldn’t grasp it. She didn’t even want to try that hard.
So instead she simply obeyed as he tilted her head this way and that, testing her, tasting her. He was gentle one moment, demanding the next, his tongue sliding against hers, driving her wild, making her respond every time. It had been too long.
Far too long.
She heard the desperate, needy sound that escaped her lips. She felt the way her fingers clung to him, almost biting into the solid biceps, which time had done nothing to diminish. She experienced the ache—the yearning—as it flowed down through her very core, turning everything hot. Molten. Releasing five years of pent-up frustration.
The more roughly he kissed her, the more she pushed back, as if seeing his offering and raising the stakes. It was a dangerous game. A thrilling game. One that she was helpless to stop. Her overriding thought—need—was to reacquaint herself with every plane and contour of his body. To make up for all these awful years apart.
The Army Doc's Baby Secret Page 4
