Healing A Hero (The Camerons of Tide’s Way #4) (6 page)

Chapter 10

August 2001

Tide’s Way, North Carolina

PHILIP LAY FACEDOWN on their favorite beach with his head cradled on his forearms and his eyes closed. Elena straddled his hips, rubbing suntan lotion into his skin. She traced the shape of the globe and anchor tattoo on his right shoulder.

“You Marines aren’t very inventive with your body art, are you?”

Laughter rumbled through his body.

“You haven’t seen some of the more colorful guys. I’m pretty conservative.”

“Well, I like it. It tells the world who you are.” She moved on to massage the rest of his broad, muscular back. Lathering him with suntan lotion was a good excuse to touch him and luxuriate in the warmth and power that turned her on.

“I’m surprised you aren’t brown as a bean, as my grandmother used to say. I thought you were stationed on a ship where it’s hot. Don’t you ever take your shirt off?” She sat back and slid her hands down the long length of his back to the top of his swim trunks.

Philip lifted his head and peered at her with those amazing blue eyes that made her heart ache. “It’s the blood of my Scottish ancestors. I tan eventually, but mostly I burn first. Besides, going shirtless when I’m supposed to be in uniform is frowned on.”

She climbed off him and settled on her own towel. “I think you need a higher SPF. You’re going to be a crispy critter before long.”

He sat up, reached for his shirt, and pulled it over his head. “Happy now?” He rolled onto his back and pillowed his head with one arm. His gaze was serious, and she didn’t think getting a sunburn was what occupied his mind.

“You’ve only got eight days of leave left. What are you going to do with them?”

“Spend them all with you.” His gaze left hers to trail over her bikini-clad, golden-tanned body. When his eyes met hers again, there was something heated in them that hadn’t been there a moment before.

About time he noticed!
Being treated like Andy’s kid sister was getting old. Except for that toe-curling kiss on the beach in the moonlight, he’d been behaving more like a big brother than a boyfriend, and she wanted him to get a little crazy. But eight days wasn’t that long. Not long enough, and he had family obligations.

“What about your family?”

“What about my family?” He squinted up at her.

“Don’t they get to share what time you’ve got left?”

“My parents left this morning on a cruise, and I’ve spent more time with my brothers and Kate in the last three weeks than I usually get to spend with them in a year.”

Elena stretched out on her towel and studied the lean planes of Philip’s face. She reached out and touched the dimple that creased his right cheek.

“I can’t believe your parents would take off on a cruise when you’ll be gone in another week.”

“They’ll be back before my leave is up. This cruise was planned before Gran died. Mum and Dad had no idea I’d be home when they booked it, and there’s no way to get their money back. I told them to go. They needed the break after the last few weeks. Besides—” He leaned over and cupped her face with his free hand. “That leaves more time for you.” He touched her lips with his own, a brief teasing kiss. He trailed more kisses along her jaw to her ear, then returned to her mouth. She slid her tongue over his lower lip.

With a groan, Philip let go of her face to draw her up against him as the kiss turned passionate. Here on the beach, in the middle of the afternoon, he would quickly come to his senses, but until that happened—

She wound her foot behind his calf and pressed herself against his lean length. The awareness that he was aroused thrilled her. She arched into him to let him know she shared his desire. Their tongues tangled and waves of delicious sensation rolled over her, drowning out everything but Philip and the way he made her feel.

It was as if the last three weeks had been a carefully choreographed dance leading to this moment of physical awareness. To this moment of wanting each other with such fierce passion that their mutual desire could no longer be ignored. She wanted Philip more than she had ever wanted anything. He evoked an almost desperate need to make love. To feel him plunge into her and lose himself.

Philip broke off the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. His breath hissed sharply between his teeth as he eased his body away from hers.

“Whoa, Elena! This has to stop before I forget where we are. Or who you are.”

“What do you mean, who I am?” She jerked her head away to look him in the eyes. Eyes turned dark with a passion that mirrored her own.

“You’re Andy’s—”

“Don’t say it.” She put her finger over his lips. “Just because my big brother is your best friend, that has nothing to do with us. Or what we want.”

“You have no idea what I want.”

She snorted. “What? You think I’m a virgin? I’ve been with a man before.”

His brow furrowed.

“I know exactly what you want, and I want it, too.”

She tugged his face back toward hers and pressed her mouth to his, lingering just long enough to make her point. “I want you to make love to me.”

For a very long moment, their eyes locked. So much said without words. Perhaps this would be the moment to tell him she loved him. Or perhaps not. She didn’t want him to feel trapped or run for the nearest exit. But if they didn’t end up in bed before this day was over, the desire scorching her insides was going to drive her crazy.

He gathered her back into his arms, but without the urgent passion of a few moments before. “Maybe it’s a good thing my folks are out of town then.”

Chapter 11

February 2015

Camp Lejeune, North Carolina

PHILIP WOKE gasping and hard. The dream seemed so real. The sting of a sunburn on his back felt real. Even her heels digging into his calves as she pressed herself against the throbbing erection he couldn’t hide felt real.

He looked down at his briefs. The erection had been real. Elena and everything else had been in his dream. He sat up in the darkened room and waited for his breathing to return to normal and his boner to go away.

But he couldn’t banish the wispy fragments of his dream or the memory of Elena and the way she’d behaved that wild, abandoned summer when he’d lost his heart to her. He’d tried so hard in spite of his growing feelings for her to keep their time together chaste. She’d been so young. Too young to tie herself down to a Marine who was away more than he was home. Too young to know who she was or what she wanted out of life, and he’d learned the hard way how easily time and distance can change everything.

He’d admired and enjoyed her bold, uninhibited enthusiasm for life. Her bold announcement that she wasn’t a virgin had surprised the hell out of him. That she hadn’t been shy about telling him she wanted to sleep with him had surprised him even more.

All his good intentions had been tossed to the wind then. If his parents hadn’t been away, leaving him in sole possession of the house and all that privacy and opportunity, maybe he’d have been able to resist the temptation despite her open invitation. But likely not. He’d been young and healthy and horny as hell. It had been a long time since he’d been with any woman. And he’d been in love.

He still was.

The realization left him breathless and a little panicky.

He’d fallen just as fast this time as he had then. All the anger and resentment he’d ginned up, reminding himself that she’d broken his heart the last time, had not made any difference. Half the time he’d spent with her, she’d been inflicting pain on him. But even that hadn’t stopped the fall.

Thoughts of her followed him into work every day and home every night. Far too often, he’d found his finger poised over her cell number. So far, he hadn’t given in to the desire to hear her voice. Not since that first night when he’d had to change his appointment time. But he wanted to. She hadn’t loved him then and she didn’t love him now.

But she’d taken over his dreams anyway. He pressed his palm against himself, willing the erection to subside. At least when he was dreaming of her, he was not having nightmares of things he’d seen and done downrange. Which brand of torment was worse, was a tossup. Clawing his way to consciousness in a cold sweat of terror or waking with an aching woody?

He got to his feet and headed for the bathroom. By the time he finally managed to empty his bladder and shake off the remnants of the dream, it was clear sleep would not return any time soon. He sat down at his desk and woke up his laptop. Might as well study up on the latest stuff they wanted him to know for the intelligence gig. But instead of opening the relevant file, he clicked on his browser and typed in Eli Tischler. Elena had mentioned that he was a tenured professor and published author. A moment later, the man’s website popped up.

Eli was a good-looking guy. His longish hair was wavy with golden highlights and his pale blue eyes were striking. Easy to see what had attracted Elena in the first place. His bio made him sound even more interesting. He loved to surf—explained the sun-streaked hair. He mountain-biked and hiked and enjoyed fast cars. Just the sort of guy who would appeal to a young woman beginning the adventure of life and eager to grab it with both hands.

Philip swallowed the bitter pill of jealousy. This man had known Elena intimately. He had shared her life for more than a decade. He had a daughter and everything else Elena could give him. Everything Philip had wanted for himself and had not dared to ask for.

He closed the browser window and slammed the laptop shut. Then he got up and paced his small space. Violent emotions he was not used to dealing with surged in his veins. Jealously. Longing. Regret. And anger.

Eli had been married to a wonderful, passionate woman, but in spite of that, he’d violated his marriage vows. He’d taken her for granted instead of treating her like she deserved. She might claim her heart wasn’t broken, but how could it not be? That kind of betrayal would hurt anyone. Philip had lost count of the men he’d sat with and comforted when they finally broke down and cried after absorbing the truth of their wives’ infidelity.

He ground his teeth to keep from punching something. It was a good thing Eli lived on the west coast. Abandoning any hope of regaining the use of his right hand would have been worth it if he could have used it to smash Eli’s teeth down his throat.

It began to make sense that Elena had not remarried. She probably didn’t trust any man now.

If she’d waited for him, he would have treated her better. She would have been his princess. The love of his life. She could have kept her trust and her willingness to love with all her heart.

But she hadn’t, and there was no way they could pick up where they’d left off fourteen years ago. The only thing left was friendship. Elena had extended the first olive branch when she suggested a cup of coffee. Surely he was man enough to respond.

He returned to his bed and pulled the little canvas bag from its cubby. He thrust his hand inside and felt around until his fingers found the unmistakable contours of his battered silver cross. He drew it out and sat for a long time rubbing his thumb over the scratched surface.

With a sudden swelling in his chest, he removed his dog tags and fumbled to unhook the beaded clasp. He fingered the cross one last time. Then he threaded the chain through the loop on the cross, clipped the chain together again, and put it over his head.

“THESE JUST GOT delivered for you.” Terry set a mint-green vase filled with striking blue roses on the counter. She wore a knowing grin. “I thought you said he was just an old friend.”

Elena looked at the roses, then back to her friend. “He who?”

“Ah, c’mon. That good-looking hunk who was waiting for you the other night. The wounded hero. Remember now?” Terry plopped down on the stool next to Elena and plucked the tiny envelope from the bouquet and held it out. “Aren’t you going to read it?”

“Why would Gunny send me roses?” Elena’s heart flip-flopped while her chest tightened.

“Well, they aren’t red, but it’s Valentine’s day would be my guess. I’ll open it if you won’t.” Terry plucked at the tucked flap of the envelope.

Elena snatched it and clutched it against her chest.

“Okay.” Terry got to her feet. “Have it your way, but if you think I’m going to let this go, you are so wrong.”

Rob Cullen, the head of the physical therapy department, came through the door, thumbing his way through something on his phone.

“Hey, Rob. Look what Elena got. She hasn’t even been here a month and already she’s got herself an admirer.” Terry smirked at Elena and disappeared out the door.

“Anyone I know?” Rob asked as he glanced at the uncommon display of blue roses.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I—”

“You mean you have that many guys lined up already that you haven’t figured out which one sent the roses? Or you don’t know if I know him?” Rob shoved his phone into his pocket.

Unable to meet his gaze, Elena glanced at the flowers. If it was Philip who sent the flowers, he was a patient and that would be a problem. She wasn’t supposed to have that kind of relationship with a patient and Rob would censure her for it.

“He’s an old friend. At least, that’s who I think sent them.”

Rob raised his brows. “You aren’t going to look at the card?”

“Later. I’ve got these charts to finish.” Elena shoved the card into her pocket and opened a file.

Rob stood watching her with a frown marring his brow, then shrugged and moved to his desk in the corner.

She turned to her notes, but her gaze kept straying back to the pretty sapphire blooms. Why would Philip send her roses for Valentine’s Day? He wasn’t her valentine. He’d never been her valentine. They’d been together for a mere twenty-eight days. Not even a whole month. Fourteen years ago.

Four of the most incredible weeks of my life
. Her heart contracted and she had to press her lips tight to keep them from trembling at what she’d once thought she had and lost.

I didn’t lose it. I never really had it. I wanted him to be in love with me. I wanted to believe that he couldn’t possibly make love to me like that if he didn’t feel about me the way I felt about him. But I didn’t lose anything
.

Elena took a deep breath, then forced her mind back to the work in front of her.

A half hour later, her cell phone vibrated. She pulled it out and checked the screen.

“Philip?” She glanced behind her to see if her boss was still at his desk. Thankfully, he’d gone.

“Did you like them?”

“They’re beautiful,” she answered cautiously. “But why?”

“Because it’s your birthday.”

Her breath caught in her throat.
How did he remember my birthday? We never got to celebrate it together.

“I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I hope I wasn’t out of line.” His voice held a trace of doubt.

“No, I—I mean—I love them, and it was really sweet of you to remember.”

Elena didn’t know what else to say, so she stopped talking. Apparently, Philip was at an equal loss because all she could hear for several taut moments was the sound of his breathing.

“Well . . . ,” he finally said. “Captain Clueless is looking for me, so I’ve got to get back to work. Have a nice weekend.”

“You, too.” Elena held the phone to her ear several moments longer before it beeped, signaling the line had been disconnected.

She drew the vase of roses closer and sniffed the heady fragrance of the unusual azure-colored blooms. Did Philip know that blue roses did not grow naturally and symbolized the unattainable?

She touched a satin-smooth petal. Blue roses also meant
I can’t stop thinking about you
. How appropriate. She hadn’t stopped thinking about him since the day he’d showed up for his first appointment. In truth, she hadn’t really stopped thinking about him for fourteen years.

She pulled the forgotten envelope from her pocket and slipped the card out.

Happy Birthday to the loveliest woman I’ve ever known.