Taming Her Navy Doc (6 page)

Against his better judgment, and under the guise that he wanted to see Corporal Ryder’s charts, he moved behind her. Which was a mistake. Her hair smelled faintly like coconuts. He was so close he could reach out and touch her, run his fingers through her short honey-colored hair. He resisted and instead took the chart from her, flipping through it.

“Just a fever, then?”

“Y-yes,” she stuttered. “Yes, a fever. There
shouldn’t be a reason why his vitals are just stable, because they were just that. One small change…”

Thorne stepped away from her. “I understand. As long as there isn’t infection.”

He didn’t look at her, but he got the sense she wanted to say more, and he wanted her to say more.

“You know,” she whispered, her voice shaking a bit with frustration.

Good.
He wanted her to hate him. It would be easier.

Hate me.

“Yes.” He handed her back the chart. Thorne knew she was annoyed. It was good that she was, maybe then she’d avoid him. If she hated him, then he’d be less tempted to want her. There would be little chance of them ever being together, which was for the best.

Yeah. Tell yourself another lie, why don’t you?

“Looks good, Commander Griffin. Keep me updated on any changes in the corporal’s status.” He turned and left the ICU, trying to put a safe distance between the two of them.

The hiss of the isolation room’s door behind him let him know she was following him. Why did he think she wouldn’t follow him? From the little he knew of Commander Erica Griffin, he
knew she wasn’t the kind of officer to take anything lying down.

He was in for a fight.

She grabbed his arm to stop him. “I don’t think we’re done talking, Captain Wilder.”

They were standing right in front of the busy nurses’ station, where a few nurses stopped what they were doing. Even though they weren’t looking their way, he could tell they were listening in earnest.

Not many officers stood up to him.

“Commander, I don’t think this is the time or the place to bring it up.”

“Oh, it’s the time and place.” She glared at some of the nurses and then grabbed him by his arm and dragged him into an on-call room, shutting the door behind her, locking it.

“Commander, what’s the meaning of this?” he asked, trying to keep his voice firm. He didn’t like the idea of being locked in a dark on-call room with her.

Especially when his blood was still thrumming with wanting her.

“I think you know exactly the meaning of this. Why did you pretend you didn’t remember me?”

“You did the same.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Only because I thought you didn’t remember me for the last two weeks.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “So that justifies lying to me?”

She snorted. “I never lied to you. However, you lied to me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” He took a step toward her, though he knew very well he should keep his distance.

“Why would I? If you weren’t going to mention the traumatic experience, I wasn’t about to bring it up again.”

“Perhaps you felt guilty.” He was baiting her, pushing her buttons.

Hate me. Loathe me.

She advanced toward him. “I don’t feel guilty for saving your life. I did what had to be done. You would’ve died if I hadn’t taken your leg. You’re a doctor, and I’m sure you’ve had access to the chart which magically disappeared off the ship when you were taken, so you know I had no choice—I don’t regret what I did. Given the choice again, if it meant saving a life and having someone hate me for the choice I made, I would cut off your leg to save your life.”

Thorne took a step back, impressed with her, but also annoyed that he was even more drawn to her and her strength.

He didn’t know how to reply to that.

Didn’t know what to say.

Suddenly there was someone pounding on the door.

“Commander Griffin, it’s Corporal Ryder… He’s crashing.”

Suddenly there was nothing left to say. Erica flung open the door and both of them sped toward the ICU, the sound of a flatline becoming deafening, and everything else was forgotten.

E
RICA FLIPPED THE
tooth over, like it was a poker chip, staring at it morosely as she sat at a bar, which reminded her of
Gilligan’s Island
, complete with bamboo huts, tikis and coconut shells. It was like a throwback to something from the sixties.

Normally, she wouldn’t occupy a bar or pub, but tonight she needed company.

She needed a drink and this was the closest place to her quarters.

Besides, she’d never had a whiskey and cola adorned with a pink umbrella and glittery streamers before. Her drink reminded her of her first bike, which had had the same streamers. At least her drink didn’t have spokey-dokes. The Bar Painappurufeisu, which she believed translated to “Pineapple Face,” served alcohol and that was all that mattered at the moment.

“Scooby, hit me again,” she called to the barkeep.

Scooby nodded and smiled, probably not really understanding what she was saying, and said, “No problem,” before heading down to the other end of the bar.

Erica giggled again.

She definitely needed to lay off the liquor. She rarely indulged and this was what she got for that. She was a lightweight and laughing at everything.

At least if she was laughing she wasn’t thinking about what had happened to Corporal Ryder. Then she glanced down at the shark’s tooth in her palm and slammed it against the counter.

“To hell with it, Scooby. I need another drink.”

“No problem,” Scooby answered from the end of the bar.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

Erica glanced over and saw that Thorne had sat down beside her.

Just what she needed. Someone else whose life she’d ruined.
She wasn’t a surgeon—she was apparently no better than the grim reaper.

“Scooby will let me know when I’ve had enough.”

A smile twitched on Thorne’s face. “The only English Scooby knows is what kind of drink you want, monetary value and ‘no problem’.”

Scooby looked up and gave a thumbs-up. “No problem.”

Erica moaned and rubbed her forehead. “Great. I’ve been rattling off to him about various things.”

Thorne shrugged. “He’s a good listener. It’s his job. Although, he was a fisherman before the base sprung up.”

“I thought most Okinawans knew English.”

“Most do. Scooby doesn’t; he only learned what he needed to know.”

Erica narrowed her eyes. She didn’t believe a word Thorne was saying, though that could be the liquor talking.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.

“Why should I? Since I arrived you’ve questioned me,
lied
to me and generally have been a pain in my butt. No offense, Captain.”

“None taken, Commander.”

Erica turned back to her drink, playing with the many glittery decorations. Her body tensed, being so close to Thorne. It wasn’t because he was her commanding officer; that didn’t bother her in the least. It wasn’t because she’d taken his leg; she knew she’d made the right medical decision. It was because she was drawn to him and she shouldn’t be. Captain Wilder was off-
limits and it annoyed her that she was allowing herself to feel this way. That he affected her so.

Especially today.

“What do you have there?” Thorne asked, though she had a feeling he already knew.

She set it down on the countertop anyway: the shark tooth, gleaming and polished under the tiki lighting.

“Why do you have that?” he asked.

“I didn’t think it should go to medical waste. I know we were saving it for…” She couldn’t even finish her sentence. She was a doctor, a surgeon and she was used to death. People did die, and had died on her, but usually only when they were too far gone.

Thorne had been worse, yet he was here, beside her. Alive.

Corporal Ryder’s death shook her because his death shouldn’t have happened. It boggled her mind. She cupped the shark tooth in her palm again, feeling its jagged edge against her skin.

Thorne reached over, opened her fingers, exposing her palm, and took the shark tooth from her.

His touch made her blood ignite. A spark of electricity zipped through her veins.

Pull your hand away.

Only, she liked the touch. She needed it at this ­moment.

“Let me see that,” he said gently. Erica watched him, watched his expression as he looked over the tooth carefully. “Can I keep it?”

“Why?” she asked.

“I knew him—he has a younger brother. Perhaps I’ll send it to him if he wants it.”

“Sure.” She picked at the paper napkin under her drink. It was soaked with condensation and came apart easily. “Did you get a hold of Corporal Ryder’s family?”

Thorne nodded slowly. “I did.”

“I don’t have any siblings.” Erica wasn’t sure why she was telling him that.

“That’s too bad.”

She nodded at the tooth again. “Do you think that’s something his family would want? I mean…under the circumstances.”

“I think so. Though, the flag at his state burial will mean more.”

Erica sighed sadly. “There was no reason for him to die.”

“He was attacked by a shark.”

“It was a simple wound. It didn’t even sever the artery.”

“You know as well as I do that sometimes there are things beyond our control as physicians. If he gave up the will to live… I’ve seen it so many times. Even if you fight so hard
to save a life, if that person has decided that they’re going to die there’s nothing you can do.”

Erica nodded.

It was true. She knew it. She’d seen it herself so many times, but Ryder’s death was so senseless. He would’ve made a full recovery. Sure, he wouldn’t have been able to continue his training to become an elite member of the SEALs, but he also wouldn’t have been discharged from the Navy.

Was that worth dying over? Was that what had driven Ryder just to give up?

Was that why Dad just gave up? How much pain had he been in?

She sighed, thinking about him. Her father had had a loving family; he’d often told Erica she was the light in his life. Yet it hadn’t been enough.

She hadn’t been enough.

“Did they say what caused his death?” she asked, hoping Thorne could give her a more tangible answer.

“No, but there will be a postmortem, and maybe then we can get an answer. I’m thinking that the drugs, the shock of the attack and surgery was just too much of a strain on him. It’s rare, but it does happen.”

Erica nodded. “Well, why don’t you join me and drink to Corporal Ryder’s memory.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” he asked.

She nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

“Then I’d love to join you, but you made it clear we can’t be friends.”

Erica winced. “I overreacted. I’m sorry. We can be friends.”

“Okay.” He motioned to Scooby who brought him a stubby-looking bottle.

“What’s that?” she asked, because she couldn’t read the Japanese on the label.

“It’s beer. I don’t know what kind, but it’s damn good.”

“I didn’t know the Japanese brewed beer.”

“You should’ve done your research before you took a posting in Okinawa prefect, then.”

Erica snorted. “I did my research, I just somehow missed that.”

“Okay, what do you know?”

She looked at him strangely. “Are you testing me?”

Thorne shrugged. “Why not? You said you studied.”

Erica shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “What part of ‘pain in my butt’ didn’t you get?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of a pub quiz before?”

“Really?”

Thorne chuckled. “Okay, fine. Although the prize would’ve been totally worth it.”

“Prize?” Erica asked. “Now I’m intrigued. What would be my prize?”

He grinned. “Play and find out.”

Just walk away.

The prize was probably something not worth it. Or something totally inappropriate—not that she would mind being inappropriate with Thorne, if he hadn’t been her commanding officer; if they didn’t have a history as surgeon and patient. Yet here she was, falling into this sweet trap again.

He’s not Seaton. They’re not all Seaton.

Which was true, but after a couple of drinks she was willing to let her guard down.
It’s the booze.

And maybe it was completely innocuous. Perhaps he was just being kind and just trying to get her mind off the fact that they’d lost someone today. Someone who shouldn’t have died.

Since when has Captain Wilder ever been nice to you?

That was the truth. He hadn’t been overly friendly or warm since she’d arrived at the base. Even when he’d been her patient he’d called her names and told her not to take his leg.

He didn’t have the sunniest disposition.

“Like an angel.”

That blasted moment again, sneaking into her mind, making her thoughts all jumbled and confused. She should just walk away, but she was too intrigued not to find out what the prize was. Besides, when was the last time she’d backed away from a challenge? If it was something inappropriate she could tell him where to go; they were off duty.

Still, she wasn’t here because of a lark.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate.”

“Because of Corporal Ryder?” Thorne asked.

“Yeah. Maybe I should just call it a night.” She got up to leave, but he reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her from leaving.

“Don’t go,” he said.

Erica sat down. “Okay, but I have to say I’m not in much of a jovial mood. Prize or not.”

Thorne chuckled. “Tell you what, you’ll still get your prize.”

“And what would that be?”

“A tour around Ginowan and the countryside. You could test your knowledge.”

Erica couldn’t help but smile. When Thorne wanted to be, he was charming. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Why?”

She didn’t know how to answer that truthfully.

Because I don’t want to be alone with you. Because my career is more important.

Because I’m weak.

“I don’t think that’s wise. You’re my commanding officer.”

Thorne’s face remained expressionless. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.”

Even though he didn’t show any sign of anger, there was tension in his voice and possibly a sense of rejection. She knew that tone well enough from other guys she’d turned down, because there just wasn’t time for romance.

And because you’re frightened.

Erica stood. “I should go. Good night, Captain Wilder.”

Thorne nodded but didn’t look at her. “I’ll see you in the morning, Commander Griffin.”

* * *

Thorne watched her leave the bar; even though he shouldn’t, he did. It was good that she’d turned him down. He didn’t know what had come over him.

Probably the beer.

“You’re looking for trouble with that one,” Scooby said.

Thorne snorted. “I’m not looking for trouble.”

“Good, because that one is strong willed. Why did you tell her I can’t speak English?”

Thorne chuckled. “I was playing with her.”

“Ay-ay-ay. Perhaps I should warn her off of you, Captain Wilder. Perhaps you’re nothing but trouble.” Scooby smiled and set another bottle of beer down on the counter. “I’m sorry to hear about the corporal. He was a good man.”

“He was.”

“I would like to send something to his family.” Scooby reached behind the bar and pulled out a picture. “This was from last month. Corporal Ryder led our bowling team to victory.”

Thorne smiled at the picture of Scooby, Corporal Ryder and some other officers in horrific bright-orange bowling shirts holding up matching color marble balls.

“I’m sure they’d like that.”

Scooby nodded and walked away. Thorne carefully placed the framed picture down and then set the shark tooth on top of it.

Damn you, Ryder.

“You hold on, Liam. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“It’s not as bad as you think. You can live.”

Liam shook his head. “No, little brother.”

“Stop calling me little. I’m three minutes younger than you.”

Liam chuckled, his pupils dilating, his breathing shallow. “You’ll always be my little brother, Thorne. ­Remember that.”

Thorne cursed under his breath and finished off his beer. He didn’t want to think about Liam right now.

When do you ever?

It was true. Since Liam had died in his arms, he didn’t like to think about him.

But then, who would want to think about a loved one they couldn’t save?

One who could’ve been saved.

One that would still have been alive if he hadn’t made such a foolish mistake.