Encounter with a Commanding Officer

No, he’d survived ambushes, engaged in fifty-hour firefights and fought with the enemy in hand-to-hand combat. He’d pick any one of those over letting this woman get close enough to sneak behind his armour.

Just one kiss.

It was a constant battle between his baser instincts and his brain. Only an animal couldn’t control their baser instincts, he warned himself contemptuously. Besides, this woman could hurt him more than any enemy could.

But just one kiss.

* * *

The man was magnificent.

Her heart couldn’t work out whether to race or to miss beats, her eyes seemed riveted on the well-honed physique to which even her imagination hadn’t done justice and her nostrils filled with a fresh, citrusy shower gel scent mingled with the undertones of leather. Ever since she’d mentioned the shower, standing back in that corridor, she hadn’t been able to stop mentally placing him under the hot flow of water as it cascaded over those broad shoulders and down that all too sculpted physique. His proximity was so damned consuming.

‘Can you see it from there, or are you going to come a little closer?’ Deep and sensual, his voice reverberated through her, body-slamming her and sending heat pooling between her legs.

‘I need supplies first,’ she hedged.

Another eyebrow quirk. ‘Without inspecting the wound?’

She felt decidedly rattled. Whatever had happened to ‘stick of rock’ Fliss, with Army Rules and Regulations stamped right through her? She scrambled for an excuse not to step closer until she was sure she wouldn’t do something as improper as running her hands over him.

But what would it be like to feel those beautiful muscles bunching beneath her palms? Those callused fingers grazing her soft skin?

‘I can tell from here it’s going to need suturing,’ she lied, coughing to clear her throat.

In all her years within the military she had never—not once—fantasised about a fellow soldier. Fliss stopped abruptly.

Come to think of it, she had never in her life fantasised about anyone.

She hadn’t been able to see what purpose a fantasy served. No one before had ever set her pulse racing or filled her with such a raw need that her whole body actually trembled at the thought of their touch.

And then the Colonel had come along and she’d stood in that tent and felt as though she’d been hit by an armoured tank. Being in the field with him and seeing him in action, working with him in such harmony as though they’d known each other for years, had only intensified the attraction.

She’d seen a fair few heroes in her role as an army trauma doctor, but the Colonel was the stuff of action films. And he had something more, something harder, some inner drive. She’d been given a taste of what he was capable of, how loyal he was, and the physical attraction had expanded into something more.

It frightened her even as it excited her.

He’s just a man.

She tried to push the tumultuous emotions from her brain but, even now, he dominated the space, his backside resting on the countertop, his long, powerful legs stretched out in front of him, one ankle crossed casually over the other. Her heart hammered so fast she was surprised he couldn’t hear it. She wanted to look away but she couldn’t tear her eyes from his body. The tiny room practically pulsed with his dark, powerful energy, sliding under her skin and into her veins to flutter wildly at her neck. His eyes slid to her pulse as if he could read her thoughts, swiftly followed up with his lips thinning as if in distaste.

It was a rejection she recognised all too well.

Hurt cut through her. Enough to kick-start her sense of self-preservation. What was she thinking, imagining a guy like him could really be interested in someone like her?

Focus, Fliss.

‘Right, let me inspect the wound,’ she bit out, shaking back hair which wasn’t there and advancing as confidently as she could, hands outstretched.

He braced himself. Only a fraction of a second but she didn’t miss it. Heat suffused her cheeks. He could read her silly schoolgirl crush and was embarrassed on her behalf. It was all she could do not to turn and flee.

Hauling her eyes to his shoulder, she saw where he’d tried to bandage the seeping wound, not wanting anyone to know about the injury. But, as neat a job as he’d managed, the damage beneath was clearly too deep. Carefully, she reached out and peeled away the dressing. At least her hands were steady, which was more than could be said for the rest of her.

‘Jeez, what did you do?’ she cried out, her eyes darting to his in horror.

‘What does it look like? I tried to suture it.’

‘Yourself? Without anaesthetic?’

He shrugged, ignoring the second question.

‘I’m usually right-handed.’

‘Yeah, because that’s why it’s bleeding.’

She stared into those shale-hued eyes and felt herself teetering oh-so-close to the edge. With a supreme effort she pulled herself back.

‘I’ve had worse.’

She didn’t doubt it.

‘How did you get it?’

‘Sliced it on some rusty metal when we were breaking down the door to that compound.’

She clucked her tongue, relieved at the banality of the exchange. At least it was keeping her mind distracted whilst they were so dangerously close to each other. She prattled on quickly to stop her voice, and hands, from shaking.

‘So you’re going to need stitches and a tetanus, but you weren’t intending to come to me. What are you, some kind of idiot?’

‘Careful, Major.’ His low voice rumbled through her. ‘I’ve let a lot slide because you’re kind of sexy when you’re bossy. But don’t push it.’

He was right; it was no way to speak to a superior. Certainly no way Fliss would ever have previously dreamt of speaking to one. But nothing about him had her acting like normal and, despite her best efforts, he disconcerted her, leaving her jangling nerves needing an outlet.

Wait... He thought she was sexy?

Belatedly, her eyes snapped to his, her tongue flicking out to moisten her parched lips. His gaze pulled down to the movement.

‘And that doesn’t help.’

‘What doesn’t?’

Was that breathy sound really her voice?

They had inched closer. She hadn’t noticed it, but they had. Now the soft caresses of his shallow breaths tickled her cheek.

‘Tell me how it is that you don’t have a boyfriend or partner somewhere, worrying about you?’

Pain sliced through her more than she’d have wished. But, like every time before, it was about the sense of rejection rather than losing Robert himself.