The Man Behind the Badge (12 page)

‘
Tony
will see,’ he corrected.

She tipped her head in acknowledgement. ‘Tony will see. If it’s clear, you should take it easy for the rest of the day. No exertion. But you must come back or call an ambulance if you start having difficulty breathing, any headaches or nausea. Or if the hoarseness in your voice gets worse.’

‘Got it.’

She made notes on his record sheet. ‘Stay here. I’ll arrange the X-ray and then get Tony to come and have a word.’

‘Thanks, Kayla.’

She nodded and stepped out of the curtained cubicle. She straightened her shapeless hospital-issue white coat and took a deep breath. He was fine.

Fine
. There was no need to have him admitted and put under twenty-four-hour observation. It would be a waste of resources.

And he’d never agree.

The hospital would never agree to having him forcibly detained for his own good, either.

But it was what she wanted to do.

Tom watched the curtain close behind Kayla, then tipped his head back onto the pillow and shut his eyes.

The sounds of the emergency department filtered into his consciousness. The deep hacking cough of the man he’d rescued, the subdued murmur of staff. A beeper sounding.

Today’s Kayla was all business in her white coat of armour with her stethoscope and clinical detachment. The silver-grey eyes had been steady and assessing. Her touch gentle but impersonal. Hard to take when he yearned for so much more.

No sign of the woman whose lips had burned under his and shaken him to the core. No sign of the magical, fluid creature who’d been so sweetly responsive to his lead on the dance floor less than twenty-four hours ago.

He’d looked for a glimpse of caring, for something personal over and above her professional manner. But apart from that fleeting moment of dismay when she’d identified his old bullet wound and a couple of small slips where her irritation had showed, she’d been cool and efficient.

He’d been nothing more than a job to her.

Last night, she’d told him in no uncertain terms that he was wasting his time. But he’d still come away with her kisses on his lips and felt hopeful.

Now he just felt tired and battered. Dispirited. His ribs hurt, the skin over them stung—but worst of all was the ache in his heart.

Later in the morning, Kayla saw Tony at the desk.

‘Have you heard how our house-fire victims are?’ She picked up the results of the biochemistry work-up she’d requested on a diabetic patient.

‘Father and son both on ventilators but they’re stable.’

‘And Tom?’ She’d already checked his X-ray but perhaps Tony had picked up something she’d missed.

‘Tom?’ Tony sounded vague, his mind obviously on the file he was reading. ‘He’s fine. I discharged him after checking his X-ray.’

‘No problems, then?’

Her boss looked up from the folder in his hand, his shrewd eyes fixing on her. ‘Like what?’

‘Nothing in particular,’ she said, wishing she hadn’t persisted. ‘His rib was very tender, I just wondered.’

Tony shrugged and went back to his reading. ‘Heavy bruising. I went through his home care. Which I gather you’d already covered.’ He flipped the page. ‘And I told him to come back at the first sign of any problems—which you’d also covered.’

‘Good. Thanks.’

His lack of concern should have been reassuring. She didn’t need to follow up further, didn’t need to go out to Tom’s place to check up on him.

But she wanted to…

K
AYLA
slowed to a halt at the front of the burnt-out house, her stomach clenching. Tom had been in there while hungry flames wreaked their havoc. He’d gone in twice,
twice
, heedless of the risk to himself to pull out the occupants.

A cold chill shivered down her spine as she stared at the charred roof struts poking out of gaping holes where the roof tiles had fallen in. The front entrance was an open, smoke-stained mouth with broken windows like sightless eye sockets on either side. She could see all the way through the blackened interior of the house to the rose glow of sunset-etched plants in the back yard.

Jack had told Liz the smoke detectors hadn’t had batteries. The family was lucky to be alive.

And so was Tom.

She swallowed the nausea that threatened to rise up her throat.

Her pulse thumped in a quick rhythm. Each beat mocked her interest in the house as the procrastination it really was.

She was afraid.

Tom seemed so sure of what he wanted. Her stomach swooped sickeningly. He pushed her out of her comfort zone just by being himself. What if he expected more than she had to give, more than she was capable of?

She swallowed. She couldn’t let herself think about that now. Tonight she was here to check on his recovery, cook him dinner, make a gesture. Not seduce him.

He was right. She was in Dustin, she was involved with the town. With him. But she could choose the level of the involvement.

With one final look, she put the car in gear. Tom’s place was further along on the outer fringes of the township. She’d only been there the once, on Friday night…only a couple of days ago. But the way she felt, it could have been a lifetime ago with all that had happened since.

She parked on the gravel in front of Tom’s house and gathered the handles of the shopping bags with trembling fingers.

He’d said he liked steak so she’d bought eye fillet and vegetables. And sticky date pudding. She chewed her lip. Had she brought too much? Overdone it? She blew out an impatient breath and scrambled out of the car. The bags weren’t heavy but with each step closer to the house they seemed to gain unbelievable weight. If she kept this up, she was going to paralyse herself with doubt.

She marched up the steps to knock on the front door before she could change her mind.

Keep it light. Keep it light. Keep it—

The door opened and suddenly Tom was there.

Her heart ricocheted around her ribcage before lodging in her throat as she stared at him. Powerful shoulders and arms were left bare by the navy singlet that moulded to his torso. She could see the outline of the dressing she’d applied to his ribs earlier. Faded blue jeans rode low on his hips.

‘Kayla.’ His voice, still slightly hoarse from the smoke he’d inhaled, was flat.

She jerked her eyes back up to meet his narrow-eyed stare. He looked moody and his mouth had firmed to a thin uncompromising line.

She swallowed. He was fine, more than fine.

But he was far from pleased to see her. She hadn’t really expected that. An unpleasant band tightened around her heart. Perhaps she should have called first.

‘I came to see how you were.’ If anything, he looked even grimmer.
Keep it light
. She held up her shopping bags as though they were offerings to appease. ‘And I brought dinner. You cooked for me the other night—I thought I’d return the favour tonight.’

He moved aside silently.

She walked into the foyer and waited while he closed the door. His face was unreadable as he held out his hands for the bags.

‘Oh, no. They’re not heavy,’ she said, clutching the handles. Her smile felt uncomfortable; a desperate, flimsy disguise for her fear of rejection. ‘I’ll…take them through to the kitchen if that’s okay?’

‘Sure. Why not?’

Her smile faltered. So far from the welcome she’d hoped for but at least he’d let her in. The temptation to turn tail in the face of his gruffness was nearly overwhelming. He didn’t want her there—he couldn’t be any clearer. She would make him dinner and leave as quickly as possible.

‘Right.’ She turned and began to walk.

Although he moved silently, she was aware of him every step of her journey along the wide hall. She knew the moment he stopped at the kitchen doorway while she continued across the room.

She moved behind the island bench. Having Tom nearby seemed more manageable now that she had the barrier between them. She lifted the bags on the bench and pulled out the carrots, greens and onions. ‘You said you preferred steak so that’s what I’ve brought. Do you have a barbecue?’ She glanced over to where he stood with his thumbs hooked into the belt band of his jeans. ‘Or should I do it under the griller?’

‘I’ve got a barbecue.’

‘Well, don’t light it yet.’ Not that he’d offered. Unhappiness knotted her stomach as she looked down at the vegetables on the bench. The sooner she got on with this the sooner she could go. She squared her shoulders and, with determined brightness she said, ‘I’ve gone for comfort food.’ She looked around while she spoke then glanced at him. ‘Is it okay if I raid your drawers for a peeler?’

He shrugged, looking cool and disinterested. ‘Raid them for whatever you like.’

She found a small peeler then set to work on a carrot. The silence was unbearable. She had to fill it—even if it was with ramblings. ‘I’m going to make a stir-fry. I hope you like asparagus. I couldn’t resist it. The supermarket had a fresh batch.’

The flow of words took on a life of their own now that she’d started. She shrugged mentally as she heard herself start about the sticky date pudding for desert. If he wasn’t going to contribute or deflect her ramblings then he’d just have to make of it whatever he liked.

She paused for a breath, searching for another topic.

‘Why are you here, Kayla?’ He sounded tired.

Her heart lurched. She should have known once he did break his silence, he’d cut straight to the chase. He was going to make her work for this. She could feel her courage slipping away.

‘I told you, I came to see how you are.’ She flashed him a quick smile. Desperate to keep working with her hands, she twisted around to rummage in the drawer for a knife. ‘So how are you?’

She straightened and turned. A small gasp locked in her throat. Tom stood a scant foot from her. Her fingers clenched around the handle of the utensil she held.

His darkly lashed eyes moved over her face then slipped downwards. She followed his line of vision to the paring knife she held in front of her as though she was preparing to defend her honour. He reached out to unfurl her fingers.

With the blade safely on the bench, he folded his arms. ‘Are you asking me as a doctor? Or a friend? Or something else?’

‘A f-friend.’

Tom clenched his jaw to stop the pithy word that sprang to his tongue.

She was here as a friend with her food and succour and medical expertise.

All he wanted was her.

Just her. Plain and simple.

And so bloody complex.

He curled his fingers into fists. ‘Well,
friend
, you didn’t pick a great time. I’m not feeling all that…friendly at the moment.’

She winced and looked away. A flash of vulnerability in her eyes cut straight to his heart and he regretted his sharp tone.

‘Then…how about as a woman who h-has changed her mind?’

His unruly heart skipped a beat before common sense insisted he was probably misunderstanding her. ‘Changed her mind about what?’ he asked evenly.

‘Getting involved.’ Her words came out haltingly as though she was forcing each one off her tongue. ‘With. You.’

His whole body shook with the need to reach out to grab her. Jerking away, he stalked across the room. Hell. The woman he craved was standing here in his kitchen, apparently offering herself to him on a platter.
But why now?
He didn’t like the answer that presented itself.

He turned back to face her. ‘Is this some sort of warped hero-worship thing?’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘No! Of course not.’ She made a small negative movement with her hands then clasped them in front of her. ‘I mean you are a hero but that’s not why I’m here.’

He watched her, not trusting himself to get closer. ‘Then why now?’

‘You’re not going to make this easy, are you?’ She put her hands on the bench behind her as though to steady herself. He could see her tension in the way each finger gripped, her skin stretched white across each knuckle. She stared at the floor, gnawing at her bottom lip as though to gather courage.

He ran a hand over his face—he wanted her but he didn’t want her coming to him as some sort of misguided self-sacrifice. It wouldn’t be right. Besides, he wanted her to want
him
. Just him, not some heroic version she thought he was.

‘All right.’ As though she’d made a decision, she looked up. Grey eyes burned into his with a dark intensity that took his breath away. ‘Right from the first time I laid eyes on you, you scared me to death. I’m afraid of the way you make me feel.’

He could feel the heat burning in his face. This was the third time she’d made him blush. ‘How do I make you feel?’

‘As though I’m out of control.’ The tip of her tongue made a quick, nervous sweep of her lips and he felt his system jolt. ‘You’re larger than life and I…don’t know if I can handle you.’

‘Handle me?’

Her eyes clung to his. ‘I’ve never felt anything like this and it terrifies me. Y-you terrify me.’

‘God, Kayla,’ he groaned. He was torn. Half of him wanted to take her in his arms, reassure her, seduce her until she accepted the magic of the chemistry between them. The other half of him wondered if his long-term plans would be better served by halting her flow of words until he had the composure to deal with her confession. ‘What am I going to do with you?’

The colour came and went in her face. ‘Nothing, by the sounds of it.’ She huffed out a small self-mocking laugh that ended in a hiccup. ‘You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?’

‘Changed my mind? No, I haven’t changed my mind,’ he rasped. ‘I’ve been frustrated for the entire two months, three weeks and roughly six days since you arrived in Dustin.’

She blinked. ‘R-really?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ He smiled ruefully, still not trusting himself to go near her.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. ‘W-well, where does that leave us, then?’

‘I know what I want.’ He speared his fingers through his hair, continuing the thrust until his hand reached the back of his neck. ‘I don’t know what you want and I’m worried you don’t know, either. I know I suggested I could become part of your rebellion. But you refused me last night, Kayla. The only thing that’s happened since then is the fire.’

‘I know.’ She looked at him steadily. ‘Finding out you were in the emergency department this morning gave me a shock. Made me realise how fragile life is.’ Her throat moved in a swallow. ‘How important you are. And how right you were last night. I am involved here in Dustin.’

‘But I—’

She held her hand up. ‘Please, Tom, let me finish. I want to be braver. I want to take some chances, do some things spontaneously.’ She looked at him, her eyes dark pewter with emotion. ‘I want…you.’

For a second he was frozen, his body paralysed by the intensity of his emotion. Then, in four strides, he was across the kitchen to scoop her face into his hands. ‘I don’t know if is the right thing but, heaven help me, I can’t resist you.’

Her breathing changed, a tiny hitch…the most sexy thing. ‘I’m glad. I’ve never thrown myself at a man before.’

‘Is that what you’re doing?’ He kissed the corner of her mouth. ‘Then I’m glad, too.’ Another small peck in the centre of her mouth. ‘A smart man would catch you and keep you.’ Tom nibbled the cushion of her lower lip. He pulled back and looked down into her shining quicksilver eyes. ‘I’m a smart man, Kayla.’

‘Please. Kiss me again.’ Her voice was a husky murmur, entrancing. Her lashes lowered as her eyes drifted down to his mouth. As potent as a touch. ‘Let’s worry about right now.’

Alarm bells jangled but not enough to still the need rising through him with a savagery he’d never felt before. He couldn’t help himself. She was here, saying the things he wanted to hear. He couldn’t say no. Couldn’t.

Her hands clutched at his waist, then burrowed under his singlet to slide up. The feeling of her fingers on his skin was bliss.

He sucked in a deep breath and she stilled. ‘Oh, your rib. Did that hurt?’

He could have laughed. Was she serious? ‘Honey, trust me when I tell you that I’m feeling no pain right now.’

‘Yes, but as your doctor—’ He pressed his thumbs gently to her mouth, refusing to let her finish that sentence. He wanted her to see him as a man, not a patient. The soft, warm lips yielded beneath his touch.

‘Not my doctor,’ he said hoarsely as the tip of her tongue touched the sensitive pads of his fingers.

She smiled slowly and gave him a knowing look. ‘Then as your lover-to-be, who happens to be a doctor, I feel honour-bound to point out that you’re full of dopamine and other feel-good chemicals. You might be sorry you exerted yourself later.’

‘I’ll never regret this.’ He touched his lips to hers. ‘Never.’