Taming Her Navy Doc (10 page)

S
HE DIDN’T KNOW
he was watching her and Thorne didn’t really know why he was watching her. From the research room, he could see out onto the trauma floor. After the trawler accident he’d put her back on some night shifts just so he could get some space from her.

With the
Hope
coming into port, well, it reminded him of when she’d taken his leg. It reminded him of his pain, of his vulnerability, and that she had seen him so exposed.

It was an easy way out, but he hadn’t seen her in a week.

Erica had the next two days off while the
Hope
was docked in port.

Still, he didn’t know why he remained after hours to do research.

So you could see her. Who are you kidding?
He liked to torture himself, apparently.

The research room had a one-way window. You could see out, but not in. He’d re
ally intended to catch up on some work, but the trauma floor was quiet tonight and she was spending a lot of time working on charts at the nurses’ station. Again he acted irrationally and avoided her. It was easier than dealing with the emotion she was stirring inside him.

He knew that she was breaking down his walls, ones he’d had up for ten years since Liam had died. He didn’t deserve to be happy again. He’d been the foolish one who’d cost his brother his life.

So he hated himself for wanting Erica, for enjoying the time they spent together. He hadn’t realized he was so lonely.

Focus.

Thorne tore his gaze from her and returned to his work. There was a knock at the door.

“Come.”

The door opened and Captain Dayton of the USNV
Hope
opened the door.

Thorne stood, saluting the other captain. “Captain Dayton, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“We got in a bit early and I wanted to check in at the hospital and visit with an old colleague of mine.”

“Commander Griffin?” Thorne asked.

Captain Dayton smiled. “Yes. She was a for
midable surgeon. I took her under my wing, thought of her like a daughter.”

Thorne nodded toward the trauma floor. “She’s out there charting if you want to speak with her. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you.”

Captain Dayton smiled. “I will. Thank you. And thank you for accommodating some of my nurses and surgeons. It’s very important we have this simulation training to keep us up to date. After this we head back to San Diego to get some retrofits and some much-needed shore leave.”

“No problem, Captain Dayton. Your staff has free run of facilities here.”

“My thanks, Captain Wilder.”

“I hope your staff can have a bit of off-time here in Okinawa. There is a lot to offer.”

Captain Dayton cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yes. In fact, I know Admiral Greer was planning on throwing a bit of a social while the
Hope
is in port. Though that’s supposed to be a secret.”

Captain Dayton laughed. “I’ll keep that secret safe. That sounds like fun. Well, after my crew completes their simulation training, I think they’ll have earned the right for a bit of rest and relaxation before heading to San Diego.
I’m very much looking forward to your simulation course, Captain Wilder.”

Captain Dayton extended his hand and Thorne shook it.

“I look forward to presenting it.”

“I think I’ll go visit with my former prized officer.”

Thorne sat back down as Captain Dayton left the research lab and headed over to Erica. He tried to look away, to give them their privacy, but he couldn’t. Something compelled him to watch.

When Erica saw Captain Dayton her face lit up as she saluted him and then embraced him, kissing his cheek. A surge of jealousy flared deep inside him as he watched Erica being so intimate with another man. His jealousy was misplaced. He had no right to feel this way.

He had no claim.

Erica wasn’t his.

She could be.

He cursed under his breath and turned back to the computer, but his curiosity got the better of him. Even though he knew he should keep away from Erica, he couldn’t help himself.

Despite the warnings he watched the interplay ­between the two. Captain Dayton was old enough to be Erica’s father, but what did that matter? Age was meaningless.

As she talked to her former commanding officer Thorne saw her eyes twinkle. Her smile was genuine and as they talked she reached out and touched him.

When Thorne and Erica talked there was no touching. When they were together it often felt tense at best because Thorne was too busy trying to keep Erica out.

Thorne sighed. His leg was aching. It was time to get back home, have something to eat, a shower and then bed.

He didn’t have time to worry about Commander Griffin. There wasn’t enough emotion in him to invest in her.

At least, that was what he kept trying to tell himself.

He went to log off when the door to the research lab opened again.

“Captain! I’m sorry I didn’t know you were in here.” Erica’s face flushed pink, but only for a moment.

“I was just leaving for the night, Commander.”

She nodded and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. “Are you prepping your simulation for the crew of the
Hope
?”

“I am. It’s how to deal with some common medical issues and emergencies Special Ops have to face. Wounds…infections.”

Erica sat down at the computer next to him. “Infections like yours?”

“And more. Communicable diseases as well.”

“Sounds like a potpourri of fun that you have planned.”

He chuckled. “I try my best. I see Captain Dayton found you.”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “He was a good commanding officer, but a bit suffocating.”

Now he was intrigued. “Suffocating? You looked pleased to see him.”

“Were you watching me?”

“For a moment.”

“For someone who has been ignoring me the last week and giving me endless night shifts again, you’re very observant about who I associate with.”

“Is this how you usually talk to your commanding officer?”

“No.” She grinned. “Just you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks. I do appreciate that, Commander Griffin.”

“So, you wanted to know how he suffocated me— well, he wouldn’t let me do anything without clearing it with him first. At least, for the first year I served under him.”

“Everything?”

“Everything. I have to say it’s a nice change being under your command, Captain.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, secretly pleased to hear it.

“You let me do my work.”

“I expect nothing less from members of my surgical trauma team. I pick the best of the best.”

She blushed. “And I’m the best?”

“One of.” He had to get out of here. When he’d moved Erica to some night shifts it was to get some distance between the two of them. This was not distancing himself from her, but Erica had this way of drawing him in.

He both loved and hated that.

“I better go. My shift ended hours ago.” He stood. “Have a good night, Commander.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

* * *

Erica had seen many men turn tail and run from an uncomfortable social situation. Usually she thought it looked a bit ridiculous. So much so that it amused her. But this actually made her feel a bit of hope again.

Hope that maybe Thorne hadn’t completely washed his hands of her. That maybe, just maybe, he would tear down his walls to let her in.

You’re not tearing down any walls.

Which was true.

She wasn’t exactly an open book either.

Scooby had called them both stubborn and thought that Thorne and her together would be volatile. She thought maybe Scooby was right in this instance.

Still, she was drawn to him.

She was attracted to him.

She wanted him.

Get a grip on yourself.

She couldn’t want him. She couldn’t have him.

Keep lying to yourself.

Erica didn’t know he was still in the hospital. She’d come in early to see if she could catch a glimpse of him, but he’d stayed holed up in his office for the entire week. She had heard from some of the nurses that he was dealing with the aftermath of the trawler explosion with the authorities as well as protecting those who were on board the ship and were innocent.

Like the burn victim, Drajat.

He was only eighteen and had had no idea that his uncle, the patient Erica had saved who’d had part of the engine in his abdomen, was drug running.

Drajat had told the authorities that he thought they were actually on a fishing trip. He thought he was earning money so he could attend school; the trace amount of methamphetamines in his system was equal to that of an innocent
bystander being around the drugs, but not using them.

Meth was easily absorbed into the skin.

As soon as Drajat was stable enough he would be flown back to Jakarta.

As for Drajat’s uncle… He was progressing well, but was still in ICU. Once he was able to be interrogated, well, Erica wasn’t sure what the Okinawan police would do with him. This was an international issue as the trawler had crossed into Japanese waters.

“Commander?”

Erica turned in the swivel chair to see that Thorne had returned.

“Yes, Captain? Is there something I can help you with?”

He opened his mouth but then shook his head. “No. It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously something. I thought you were leaving for the night.”

Thorne scrubbed his hand over his face. He looked tired and she didn’t blame him in the least. There was also pain behind those eyes. His whole body was clenched tight, taut like a bowstring. It was the leg again.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, Commander. It’s nothing.” He turned to leave, but hissed through his teeth and reached down.

The last time she’d seen him suffering like
this had been when she’d first arrived at the base. When she’d tried to help him he’d bit back at her, lashing out in anger and humiliation.

“You’re in pain.”

“I’ve been here too long. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” She stood and went to the research lab door. Locked it.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“You’re going to sit down and I’m going to massage your leg.”

“I don’t think so,” Thorne snapped. “That’s highly inappropriate.”

“Do you have a massage therapist who does it for you? Or how about physical therapy?”

Thorne glared at her. “I don’t need either. I’ve been managing well with this prosthesis for some time now.”

Erica rolled her eyes. “Sit down, Captain, and that’s an order.”

“You’re ordering me now?”

She crossed her arms. “I am. You should have weekly massage therapy or physio appointments for your leg. It might have been five years since you lost it, but a prosthetic leg can be hard on the muscle. It’s painful.”

“I know it is,” he growled.

“Thorne, I can help relieve some of your pain. You can barely move, so I can’t even begin to imagine how you’ll get back home.”

She stared him down.

With a grunt of resignation he sat down in an office chair. “So how are you going to help me? Are you going to give me a shot of morphine or some other analgesics?”

“No, I’m going to massage you myself.” She slipped off her lab coat and set her phone down on the counter with her stethoscope.

“You’re…what?”

“I’m going to massage you. Drop your pants, Captain Wilder.”

T
HERE HAD BEEN
many
times since he’d first met Erica when he’d pictured her telling him to drop his pants and in all those scenarios it involved her in a bed, underneath him.

Not once had he ever fantasized about being locked in the research lab, in pain and having her ordering him to take his pants off so she could rub his stump. This was not perfection at all. This was far from it. He didn’t want her seeing him like this.

In pain.

Exposed.

“I don’t think I heard you correctly, Commander ­Griffin. You want me to take off my pants?”

She nodded. “Yes. You’re wearing suit trousers; it’ll be impossible to roll up the leg of said trousers over your prosthetic. Besides, you need to remove your prosthetic so I can massage where it hurts.”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.” He tried to move away, but she blocked him.

“With all due respect, Captain Wilder, I’ve seen that leg before. I know that leg. I know what was done to it and I know how to relieve your pain.”

Though he didn’t want to, Thorne took a deep breath and then stood, unbuckling his pants and slipping them off. He tried not to let it bug him that she was seeing him like this: vulnerable. He didn’t let any woman see him with his pants off. He didn’t let any woman see him with just his prosthetic, let alone the remains of his leg.

Erica did have a point, though. She was the one who’d performed the surgery. She was the one who’d removed his leg, fashioned the stump which had left minimal scarring and a good socket to work a prosthetic in.

The surgeon side of him knew it was a damn good amputation.

The other side of him saw it was a fault. An imperfection. The absence of his leg reminded him that a piece of him was missing and how was that desirable to any woman?

What does it matter? She’s off-limits.

And that was why he did as she asked.

He sat down and unhooked the prosthetic, embarrassed that she was there. Their eyes met as she knelt down in front of him, helping him
remove the prosthetic and the wrappings underneath, which helped prevent the chaffing.

Her touch was gentle as she ran her hand over his thigh. The simple touch made him grit his teeth as he held back the intense pleasure he was feeling. Her hands on him made his blood burn with need.

It had been so long since he’d been with a woman, but this was not how he’d pictured it. Not even close. The way he fantasized about Erica had nothing to do with his stump, of massaging the knots out of his muscles.

“It healed nicely,” she remarked, which kind of shattered the illusion.

“What?” he asked.

“The wound healed really nice. Barely any visible scarring.”

“It did. It was a good job.”

“I didn’t know. You were taken out of my care hours after surgery and then I never knew what became of you. You had no name, no record.”

Thorne shrugged. “Special Ops.”

“I know.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you have a lot of chaffing?”

“Only when I work long hours. Lanolin helps.”

She nodded. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. Let me know if I hurt you.”

“It’ll hurt no matter what you do, but I’m sure it will feel good after a while. It always does.”

“I thought you didn’t get a regular massage?”

“I don’t—well, not by someone else. I usually handle it on my own.”

Erica glanced up. “You should have someone else do it.”

“Don’t have time for that.” He winced as she touched him.

“Am I hurting you?”

Far from it.
He loved her touching him.

“Get on with it,” he snapped.

“Just try and relax.” She began to rub the muscle in his thigh, which was hard as a rock and tense from the pain.

He let out a string of curses.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

“No. It does feel good.”

“Your muscles are so knotted.”

He nodded and tried not to think about the fact that Erica was kneeling on the floor between his legs, touching him. If he thought about that, then he wouldn’t be able to hide anything from her.

So he focused on the pain, but that made it worse.

“Thorne, are you okay?”

“Fine,” he lied.

She deepened the massage and beads of
sweat broke across his brow. His mind began to wander to that moment when Tyler had been lying in a pool of dirty water. The bullet had grazed him, but Thorne’s leg was on fire.

Still, he was the unit’s doctor first and foremost. He’d done his duty to make sure Tyler survived.

“You’re bleeding, man,” Tyler had said as he’d knelt down to tie a tourniquet around his leg.

“I’m fine,” Thorne had said. “It didn’t nick the artery. Just a bit of bleeding. It’ll be fine.”

“It’s an open wound in the sewer, Wilder.”

“I have antibiotics.” Thorne had dug through his first aid kit and pulled out a syringe of morphine and a needle and thread.

“What the heck are you doing, Wilder?” Tyler had asked in trepidation.

“Stitching. We still have to swim out to the sub waiting for us. It’s shark-infested water. I’m closing up the open wound now.”

“It’ll get infected that way.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll get back to the submarine and it’ll be fine. You’ll see, Tyler.”

Thorne had injected the painkiller and then threaded the needle…

He relaxed, as the pain from his stump seemed to be dissipating. He looked down at Erica working the muscle in his thigh and rub
bing around his socket. It was a firm touch, but soft. Her hands were incredibly soft.

Don’t think about that.

“Tell me about the surgery,” he demanded.

“What surgery?”

“Mine,” he said. “Tell me about it. How bad was the leg?”

“Didn’t you read your report?”

“There wasn’t a lot of information. So tell me. How bad was it?”

“Bad. I won’t lie. Your leg was highly infected.”

Thorne nodded. “It went down to the bone?”

“Into the tissue,” she said. “You did a good repair job on yourself, but…”

“You don’t have to say it. I was trapped in an old sewer system for days. If we had been able to get out of there faster and get back to the sub I wouldn’t have lost it. I would’ve been able to stop the spread of the infection.”

“Yes. Most likely you could’ve.”

Silence fell between them. It all came back to that moment. She was the one who’d taken his leg and he’d lost it.

“I don’t blame you.”

She snorted. “Really?”

“I did maybe at first, just a bit.”

“You had some pretty choice words for me when you heard me talking about taking it.”

“I was a bit fevered by then. My apologies.”

“I’m glad to hear you don’t blame me. I was worried you did,” she admitted, not looking at him, but he could see the pink rise in her cheeks.

“No. If the roles were reversed, and I was given no choice but to amputate or let you die, I would’ve done the same.”

“Does that help?” she asked gently as her ministrations softened.

“It does.”

She smiled. “I can tell. Your muscle isn’t so knotted. It’s relaxing.”

“You’re good with your hands,” he murmured and then gasped when he realized what he’d said. “Erica… I didn’t mean…”

Erica was stifling back a giggle and then he couldn’t help but laugh as well. It broke the tension that had fallen between them.

Smooth move.

“Well, I suppose I was due for something like that. I did order you to take off your pants.” She wiped a tear from her eyes and then stood. “I would hate for someone with a key to open that door and see me kneeling between your thighs without your pants on.”

“Good point.” He reached over and began to put on his prosthetic.

“No, let it breathe for a moment. Wearing
your prosthetic for so long without a break is why your muscles were so tense.”

“So you want me to sit here in the research lab without pants.”

Erica grinned, her eyes twinkling. “For another ten minutes and then you can make yourself respectable and head for home. You need rest.”

“You do too.”

Her smile wobbled and she ran her fingers through her hair. “I have another eight hours on this shift and somehow during my day off I have to study for your intensive simulation.”

“You’re attending my simulation? I gave you two days off.”

“I’m not missing a chance to train with a former Special Ops Navy SEAL. Especially one who performed first aid on himself in the field.”

“That was nothing. That was survival.”

“I know.”

They smiled at each other. It was nice. He’d forgotten how much he missed being around her. His stupid avoiding tactic had cost him.

“Why don’t you find a nice on-call room and crash?”

“I think I’ll do that. I’ll leave you to put your pants on by yourself.”

“One leg at a time… Right—I only have one.” He winked at her.

“That’s a terrible joke.”

“I have more.” He grabbed his prosthetic. “Go. Rest. You have to rest while you can when you’re doing these long shifts.”

“I will, but promise me you’ll head for home and do the same. I am your second in command here; I can relieve you of your duty.”

“Would you get out of here?”

She smiled, grabbed her things and left. Thorne leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes.

He was relaxed for the first time in a long time. When he’d been at the San Diego hospital recovering in a private ward until he’d been able to be debriefed he’d balked at the idea of physiotherapy and massage therapy.

He was made of tougher mettle than that. He only did what was necessary to survive and any physiotherapist who got in his way didn’t last long. When he’d lost his leg, he hadn’t wanted anyone touching it. The pain was penance.

Erica was right. He needed more help. He needed someone who knew how to massage an amputee. He needed pain relief that wasn’t in the form of a pill.

He needed to learn how to manage his pain.

He wrapped his stump, put on his prosthetic, then pulled on his pants, making sure everything was presentable. When he put weight
down on his legs, they ached, but they weren’t as bad.

A nice, hot shower and bed would help.

He left the research lab and, as he passed an on-call room, he saw Erica was passed out on a cot. She was lying on her side, with her hands curled up under her head. She looked like an angel.

Heck, she was an angel, and he was the very devil himself, because he wanted to join her. He wanted to curl up beside her, wrap his arms around her and lose himself. Only he didn’t deserve happiness. One wrong move had cost him his brother. Since he’d cost his brother a life of happiness, he couldn’t have what he’d taken from him.

He was unworthy.

You deserve it. It wasn’t your fault.

He ignored that voice.

He shut the door to the on-call room and headed out to his car, trying not to think about her between his legs, her hands on a part of him no one had seen in a very long time. He tried not to think about
her
.

Only, that was foolish.

He was a doomed man.

After her shift Erica showered, changed into some casual, comfortable clothes and headed
down to the docks. The white hospital ship could be seen blocks away and she couldn’t help but grin when she saw it.

She’d served on the USNV
Hope
for so long it was home to her. It felt like she was going home and as she approached the docks, crew members and staff were filtering down the steps off the ship for a brief shore leave before the simulations started tomorrow.

Erica waited on the other side of the barricade, anxiously scanning the crowd for Regina. Of course, her people-watching was constantly interrupted by other colleagues and former crew members who were happy to see her.

When she’d served her time on the
Hope
she’d flown out of Sydney, Australia.
Hope
had been returning out to sea to start a three-month voyage of the South Seas and aid a tsunami disaster.

She hadn’t gotten a chance to give a lot of people a proper goodbye. Including Regina, who was very angry that Erica had left in such a rush, but when you were called by the Home Office there was little chance to say proper farewells. There were no gold watch ceremonies in the Navy. One day you were here, the next you could be reassigned and off somewhere else.

Regina was a nurse, but she wasn’t part of
the Navy, and didn’t quite get all the nuances or strict rules which Erica was bound by.

“Erica!”

Erica turned and saw a short, ebony-haired girl pushing her way through the throng of people toward the barricade.

Erica waved at her friend and waited while the Master of Arms cleared Regina for entrance. It only took a few minutes and then that ball of energy was running toward her and throwing her arms around her.

“Oh, my goodness. I’ve missed you, you crazy lady,” Regina said, shaking Erica slightly. “Why the heck did you have to go and get reassigned, and to Okinawa of all places?”

Erica chuckled. “It’s good to see you too, Regina. And for your information I quite like Okinawa Prefecture. It’s very laid-back here.”

“A Naval base laid-back?” Regina asked in disbelief. “I find that laughable.”

“Okay, the base may not be laid-back, but the feeling around the island certainly is. Wait until you meet Scooby. He runs the Pineapple Face.”

Regina wrinkled her nose. “Please tell me that’s a bar?”

“Yes. It’s awesome. It’s like something out of old sixties sitcom reruns, and the proprietor Scooby is a huge Elvis fan. Huge.”

“Oh, I like him already!” Regina slipped an
arm through hers and they walked away from the docks. “So I’m being put up in your quarters, eh?”

“Yes. I hope you don’t mind that I made those arrangements.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I don’t. My new bunk mate on the
Hope
is a bit loony and she snores. Loudly.”

“Sorry to hear that, but I talk in my sleep. You used to complain about that.”

“I’d rather hear you spout off about elves, turkeys and whatever other nonsense you’re dreaming about than Matilda’s snore conversations with herself. It’s horrible. I suggested she hit the hospital and the sleep apnea clinic. Seriously, there were a few times I thought she was going to inhale her pillow.”