Resisting Her Commander Hero

Paige rolled her eyes. “His nickname, his moniker.”

“I know what a handle is, Dr. Cutie,” Frankie said, because she knew that moniker irritated Paige. Besides, why should she be the only frustrated person in the room? “I’m just not sure I understand this one.”

Paige shrugged and swabbed a particularly tender spot that had Frankie sucking in a sharp breath.

“I’m guessing it might have something to do with him transferring from the SEALs.” She sprayed her back with iodine. “Lie down, will you? I need to put in a few stitches.”

Frankie’s gut clenched. “Can’t you just glue them or something?”

“No. I can’t.”

“But—”

“I know you, Francis,” Paige briskly interrupted when Frankie opened her mouth to argue. “The first thing you’re going to do when you get home is ignore doctor’s orders and shower. Next thing you know you’re back here with an infection. Besides, I’ll make sure they’re small and won’t leave any scars.”

Her mouth snapped shut. Okay, so maybe Paige did know her. “Fine.” She lay facedown on the bed and propped her chin on her stacked hands. At some point she must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, Paige was tapping her arm.

“All done, sleeping beauty,” she said cheerfully, “and before you object, I’ve booked you off for a few days. Now go home and get some sleep. No picking up heavy objects or taking flying leaps off ledges. And absolutely no physical activity or you’ll undo all my hard work.”

Frankie sat up with a yawn and twisted to see Paige’s handiwork but her back was a patchwork of waterproof dressings. She tentatively rolled her shoulders to test her flexibility and was pleasantly surprised to discover that, though it pulled a little, it didn’t hurt.

“While you were snoring, I gave you a shot of pain meds and antibiotics,” Paige said, clearing up the mystery. “You should be good till the morning.”

“Which is in about an hour,” Frankie said, sliding off the bed and blinking blearily at her wristwatch. “How long was I out?”

“About twenty minutes.” Paige helped Frankie pull her jumpsuit up her arms and over her shoulders. “I’d let you sleep but Andrews is in charge tonight.”

Frankie brushed her hands away.

“I can dress myself, Mom, thanks.”

Paige backed off with a snicker and picked up a clipboard. She scribbled something then looked up. “Are your tet shots up to date?” Frankie grunted out a reply that the doctor must have understood because she tore a sheet off a pad and held it out. “I’ve prescribed antibiotics and pain meds. Get them. With all that bruising, you’re going to be sore in the morning.”

Frankie mustered a snappy salute. “Thanks, Doc,” she said, and with a quick hug headed stiffly for the door. “You’re the best.”

“Yes, I am.” Paige chuckled. “Just be sure to put that in the patient survey on your way out.”

Frankie stopped abruptly at the door when she remembered their earlier visitor. She wouldn’t put it past Nate to hang around and ambush her while she was spaced out on pain meds and couldn’t defend herself.

“What’s wrong?” Paige asked, alarmed. “Are you hurt somewhere else?”

Shaking her head, she quickly stepped aside and nudged Paige into the doorway. “Tell me what you see. Go on,” she urged when her friend looked at her like she was a crazy person on the verge of a meltdown.

When she made a get-on-with-it gesture, Paige gave a dramatic eye-roll and stuck her head out, looking around with dramatic furtiveness. “What am I looking for?” she whispered loudly, clearly enjoying the cloak-and-dagger moment.

Frankie growled and pulled her back into the room. “Any...um...thing that doesn’t belong in the ER?”

Paige’s eyes widened and sparkled with enjoyment. “You mean like a...a seal?”

“No.” Of course a SEAL. She huffed out an exasperated laugh, both at herself and Paige.

“Well, no sign of seals or any other wildlife,” Paige said with a quick head-shake.

“Okay, good. Because I’m not in the mood to fend off any marine mammals or any other wildlife.”

She wasn’t in the mood to deal with Nate, especially not in his disapproving big-brother role.

No wait, she amended. Not in any role. She just wanted to go home, shower for about an hour and then fall into bed and sleep for a week.

“Thanks, Paige, I owe you,” she said quietly, and walked stiffly from the room.

“Yes, you do, Francis Abigail,” Paige said, popping her head into the passage. “And I plan to collect...in the form of an explanation. About sea mammals.”

“Sure,” Frankie said agreeably. “I know a lot about whales and dolphins.” She smirked when Paige sighed loudly, but no way was she sharing her humiliation at the hands of Nathan Oliver. She’d never told a living soul about what had really happened that night and had no intention of discussing it now.

Or ever. Even with her best friend.

CHAPTER THREE (#uf6319a1d-8589-5d68-8c26-65007de51836)

LIEUTENANT COMMANDER NATHAN OLIVER leaned against the wall in the dark and drank from a disposable cup. He hadn’t wanted the sweet, black coffee but it was warming his hands and keeping him awake while he waited for the one woman on the face of the planet with the ability to drive him completely nuts.

Nate hunched into his wet-weather Coast Guard jacket and blinked his gritty eyes. He was cold, wet and exhausted after a thirty-hour shift and wasn’t in any kind of mood to deal with Frankie. But it needed to be done before her stupid recklessness got her killed. Besides, being cold, wet and exhausted was nothing compared to what he’d survived in the teams. Nothing compared to what could have happened up in the mountains.

But last night wasn’t what he wanted to think about; he got icy chills just recalling the expression of horror on Frankie’s face as she’d risen to her feet and launched herself at him in that split second before he’d gone over.

From experience, he knew the memory would be replaying in an endless loop for weeks, if not months, to come. His belly cramped into a tight ball and he felt a dull pain in his chest—right next to his heart. Massaging the ache, he reminded himself that he wasn’t having a coronary.

It was probably just indigestion from having to drink hospital coffee.

And since it was her fault he was drinking the swill, he added it to her already lengthy list of transgressions. Transgressions that included keeping him from his warm bed, acting without thinking and...and being all grown up and too damn beautiful for her own good.

Okay, and maybe for his good too, but no way would he ever admit that out loud...or go there. Not with her. Not after he’d promised Jack that he’d look out for his wild and willful kid sister if anything happened to him. Only Frankie was no longer a kid; something he’d been forcibly reminded of when he’d walked into that ER room.

Nate sucked in a breath at the memory of her sitting there, her back a patchwork of bruises, scrapes and lacerations. Injuries she’d sustained when she’d gone all Queen of the Jungle and saved his ass.

In that moment he’d wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her but the sight of her had hit him like a bullet to the chest. Gone was the wild skinny tomboy...in her place was a tall, stunning beauty with lush curves in all the right places.

Frankie was all grown up.

But the last thing he wanted to notice was...that. Besides, she’d been like a sister to him. And then there was the blood oath he and Jack had made the day they’d left to join the armed forces.

He was going to honor that promise, preferably from afar, but right now he needed to make her see that her actions had been reckless, thoughtless and dangerous.

He’d had every intention of doing it last night but they’d been surrounded by people and she’d been playing “evade and escape” since touching down on the hospital helipad. It was a game they’d been playing since his return to Port St. John’s. A game he was beginning to tire of.

Granted, after that first week when he’d surprised Frankie chatting with his mother and sister in their kitchen, he’d deliberately kept his distance, needing to deal with being back in Port St. John’s and his new MSRT commission. He’d also had his hands full, helping his mother cope after a climbing accident had left his sister, Terri, a paraplegic.

He’d never admit it, but he’d also been having nightmares about the last SEAL mission that had taken the lives of several teammates. Bleeding from his own injuries, he’d tried to rescue his fallen buddies but he’d been pinned down. Waiting for air support, all Nate had been able to think about had been the wild grief in Frankie’s eyes at Jack’s funeral and wondering if she would grieve for him if he was killed in action.