Because of You: A Loveswept Contemporary Military Romance (13 page)

She disappeared into the bathroom, and when she came out a moment later, she was carrying a steaming towel folded in a basin of equally hot water, a can of shaving cream, and a razor. She adjusted his bed so that he reclined almost flat and arranged the towel
over his jaw and cheeks. He tried to take a deep breath and failed. Every time he inhaled, all he smelled was vanilla and strawberries.

“I don’t have any clippers. This might pull on your beard a little.”

After a moment, she pulled the towel off his face. She palmed the can and squirted shaving cream into the center of her hand. She stroked her palms over his face, rubbing the heavy cream into the crisp hair along his jaw. The tips of her fingers ran down his neck, spreading the blanket of foam. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him with such gentleness. Warmth bloomed inside him, cracking the hard shell around his heart. She tugged at him. He wasn’t used to that. People in his life left. But not Jen. She was here. Day in and day out.

The silence was absolute, except for the faint crackle of shaving cream swelling across his cheeks. She scraped the razor over his skin, removing his beard, one slow, short stroke at a time.

He couldn’t breathe. He tried to swallow but his mouth was filled with dust. He stifled a groan, the pleasure at simply being touched nearly unbearable.

“Did I hurt you?” Her voice was barely a whisper in the silence.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, wishing he didn’t feel such an intense need for her to put her hands on him again.

He wouldn’t betray the simple intimacy between them by making this more than it was.

But it didn’t stop the want. In his mind, he let the fantasy take over. He would slide his hand up her waist, slowly, feeling that cool blouse beneath her scrubs crinkle under his touch. He’d rest his hands against her ribs and feel the rise and fall of her breath
beneath his touch. In his fantasy, she wouldn’t stiffen or pull away; she’d allow his hands to stroke over her skin. He wanted to hear her quick intake of breath and to know that he was the one who made her gasp.

Their eyes would meet. That perfect mouth would part just a little. He’d give her a little tug. His hand would rest just at the bottom swell of her breast as her lips opened against his. He’d nibble on that plump bottom lip like he’d seen her do so many times, and his tongue would stroke over her bottom lip and slip into her mouth. She’d be soft and warm and wet and she’d taste of mint, like she had that night at Ropers. Her tongue would dip out to touch his and he’d groan at the sensation.

“Shane?”

He opened his eyes. His heart pounded in his throat. Her face was a breath above his. She wiped the last of the shaving cream from his cheek. He licked his lips and swallowed, unable to moisten his mouth.

His fingers curled around her forearm, catching her hand and holding it to his cheek. Her fingertips rested at the edge of his still damp jaw. He stared up at her, time suspended. Her eyes darkened in the low light. Her pulse throbbed visibly in her throat. And in the stillness, she moved. A simple caress. Her thumb slid against the edge of his cheek.

Her lips curved with a hesitant smile. But beneath it was an edge of sadness that touched his soul. She pulled away, leaving him alone. And in the empty room, Shane ached and wanted more. She’d cracked something open, this beautiful nurse who touched his heart with her kindness, and he didn’t know what to do with what she stirred in him.

* * *

Jen sighed heavily and rested her head against her steering wheel. She wanted to hide from what she’d done. And worse, what she wanted to do. The emotions inside of her were no longer limited to worry about Shane’s wounds. Now a warm desire wrapped itself around her like a satin ribbon and drew her closer to what was sure to be a mistake of epic proportions.

He would have kissed her. And heaven help her, she’d have kissed him back, and allowed herself to pretend for a brief, intense moment that she was capable of feeling for this man. In that moment, she hadn’t cared about the bright pink scar on her breast. She hadn’t heard her own voice in her head, calling herself a freak. And she hadn’t let herself think of all the reasons why this wasn’t right—that he was her patient, and she was the one who had let him deploy. She’d simply felt his hand, and craved his touch like a starving woman.

She felt edgy. A need pulsed within her, threading through her veins like raw heat. His quiet groan whispered through her memory. She walked into her house, exhausted from her shift, but alive with energy from the way he’d looked at her. She’d felt desired. Needed.

Jen covered her face with one hand. Why had she let things go this far? She was his nurse. Not that that particular detail had kept her professional with him so far. It was all rapidly spiraling out of control. And what was worse was that she wanted it to. She was so unbelievably out of practice in this arena, it was pathetic.

What was she going to do? She was still responsible for his medical care.

She needed to try to get her feelings back into the little box where they belonged instead of twisting inside of her all day. She longed to talk to Laura about all of it, but she
was determined to deal with her issues by herself for once. Jen smiled. And, knowing Laura, she would’ve probably just given Jen hell for not taking the lead and kissing
him
.

She rolled her shoulders, wincing as she hit a stiff muscle. A hot bath would end her night on the right note.

She opened a bottle of water and rested it on the black granite countertop in her kitchen. She pulled a breakfast burrito out of the freezer and popped it into the microwave, unable to keep her mind from drifting back down the road to the hospital. To Shane.

She’d really never been objective with him. It was time, at least, to stop deluding herself about that. She’d tried to see him as a patient when she’d checked his stitches at the SRP, but she’d failed then, too. Had he been just another soldier, she would have red-stamped his file and sent him to the head doc. Instead, she’d let his impassioned plea sway her.

Just like today. She hadn’t stopped him from reaching for her. She’d let the heat from his simple touch soak through her skin and touch her heart.

She left her shoes by the fridge and padded up the carpeted stairs into the bathroom, enjoying the soft fabric beneath her feet after a night treading on the hospital’s hard tile floors. She started filling the old-fashioned claw-foot tub. Steam filled the room as she dropped her clothes into the hamper. She turned her back to the mirror and began unbuttoning her blouse.

For a brief moment, she imagined Shane’s fingers on her blouse, plucking the buttons free. His knuckles would brush against the curve of her breast. She stopped that fantasy before it got past the first button. She wasn’t getting naked with him. She knew
what he would see … How could he get past the scar blazing across her chest?

Jen paused and looked down at her hands, frozen on the tiny white buttons. She glanced over her shoulder at her reflection, at the blond curls sticking to her cheeks in the steam. Her fingers trembled as she turned, slowly, facing herself in the mirror. One by one, she pushed the rest of the buttons open, revealing the sensible cotton bra she wore.

She swallowed and reached behind her to unfasten the hooks. She deliberately kept her gaze on her chest, on the bra.

Shane kept his legs covered. Since he’d been admitted, she hadn’t once caught him looking at his own injuries. She wondered if he’d ever looked at them. She had her doubts. She knew how hard it was to look at her own missing pieces. After all this time, her hand was still shaking at the thought of what she was about to see. She braced herself and pulled her bra away. The silicone form flopped to the floor with a splat, but she didn’t bend to pick it up.

This. This was what she avoided.

The scar had long ago faded from angry red, but it still held her gaze. The raised pink scar and the indent in her skin where her nipple had once been cut across her chest like a jagged ravine through a field. The stark contrast between the swell of her right breast and the jagged, hollow left. Her other breast, still full and round, still with a perfect pink nipple, stood in the shadow of that scar and the missing flesh.

How long had she been hiding from what she was? The silicone mound gave the illusion that she was still a whole woman. Who had she been trying to fool?

No one but herself.

She pressed her lips together as she stared, her arms at her sides. Tears burned
behind her eyes, but she blinked them away. She had convinced herself that she was fine. That focusing on everyone else’s problems would make her own disappear.

She turned away from her image in the mirror and stepped into the thick bubbles in the tub, relieved when the scar sank beneath the vanilla-scented foam. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the cool, hard edge, letting the heat work itself into her tired muscles.

Maybe it was time for her to stop kidding herself. If she couldn’t see past the ragged scar running across her chest, how could she expect anyone else to? She closed her eyes, releasing the hard knot surrounding her heart. She was alone, and the scar bothered her. But when Shane had touched her today, when his rough hand had pressed against her skin and his eyes had held her captive, she hadn’t felt the burn. She’d felt nothing but desirable. She felt his skin beneath her fingertips again. The clean, crisp scent of the shaving cream mingled with his skin. His touch had been rough and strong but gentle. It was the gentleness that had surprised her.

Yes, she’d told herself he was just another patient, but she’d been deluding herself. And the truth was, a tiny seed of hope dared to believe that Shane might really be different. That she might be able to set aside her own inhibitions with him and simply
be
.

She hadn’t dared to feel anything for anyone since she’d gotten sick.

With Shane, all she did was feel.

And it hurt like hell to know that he might reject the real her.

Her back was to him. Jen’s pale skin glowed in the candlelight and he wanted so badly to stroke his hand over the soft curve of her hips
.

He wanted to savor this. This first touch. This first caress. He couldn’t believe she was really here. That she was naked and glorious and all he had to do was reach out and touch her
.

His hands embarrassed him when they shook as they hovered over her shoulders. She shifted and tipped her head to one side, exposing her neck. He glanced over her shoulder to the mirror in front of them. Her arms were crossed over her chest. He closed his hands over her forearms, enveloping her. It was her eyes that caught him, huge and dark in the velvety blackness. They captured him
.

Her lips parted as he leaned in to nuzzle her neck beneath her ear. He could almost taste her. Closer. Until his teeth scraped across her skin. She shivered and her eyes fluttered closed as the sensations rocketed through them both
.

He tugged at her hands and urged her to lower them with a slight pressure. She resisted
.

He frowned and turned her in his arms even as she pulled away
.

Shane woke with the feel of Jen’s skin on his lips, the dream ending abruptly. He turned his eyes toward the door. He’d been waiting for her, he realized suddenly. Waiting
for Jen and missing her as the days ticked by and she still hadn’t returned.

He wanted to see her eyes warm when she saw him. See her mouth turn up into that soft smile. It was a simple thing that he wanted. Just her.

But it had been nearly a week since he’d almost kissed her. A week he’d spent watching the door, waiting for that familiar smile and not seeing it. A week he’d spent wondering how the hell he was going to fix things this time. He wanted to ask the other nurses where she was. But he had kept quiet, not wanting to spark anything in the rumor mill.

He replayed the memory of Jen’s kiss from that long-ago night and the memory of her touch from that dream. And having her close, her body heat warming his flesh. Even though it had only been a dream, the want had nearly crushed him.

The door slammed open and Carponti strode into Shane’s room. His heart pounded against his ribs with renewed urgency. Any pleasure that lingered from thoughts of Jen crumbled as Carponti approached and plunked a netbook on the tray near Shane’s shoulder.

“Were you raised in a barn? Quit slamming the damn door,” Shane growled. It annoyed the hell out of him that he jumped every time Carponti banged the door against the wall, but he’d be damned if he was going to confess that to Carponti. He’d never hear the end of it.

“Quit being such a sissy.”

“What’s that for?

“Check your email. The guys are bitching at me about you not answering any emails.”

“They need to be more focused on running missions.”

Carponti shrugged. “The new platoon sergeant is a douche bag. They miss you.”

“Which is even more of a reason for them to focus on their jobs instead of worrying about me.”

“Holy crap, quit whining. Damn, did they take your balls off in surgery?”

Shane stared at Carponti openmouthed. Carponti raised both of his eyebrows, taking a long pull from a ginormous travel mug. “What?” he asked.

Silently, Shane reached for the netbook. “How do you work this thing?”

“Ah, power button.” Carponti reached across him and pushed the little round button. He gave Shane a funny look. “How the hell did you shave with your left hand?”

“Shouldn’t I ask you the same thing?” Shane shot back, taking in Carponti’s recently shorn cheeks.

Carponti snorted, and whatever he’d been drinking shot through his nose. “Ha-ha, dickhead. So that’s how it is? Make fun of the one-armed guy?”

“If the shoe fits.” But Shane’s grin matched Carponti’s. It felt good, shooting the shit with his friend, even if he didn’t want to tell him that Jen had been the first to shave that god-awful beard. “One of the volunteers gave me an electric razor.”

“Yeah, well, let me tell you how great it is to jerk off with my left hand. Feels like someone else is doing it.”