Читать книгу Married To A Marine - Cathie Linz - Страница 11

The kiss was divine. A warm masculine mouth tenderly parted her lips. Hands slipped over her willing body, caressing her with skill and passion. The moment had come. The waiting was over. This was it…

“Rise and shine!” a voice boomed over Kelly’s head.

Startled, she jerked awake and almost ended up rolling right off the couch in her sleeping bag.

“Hold on there.” Justice grabbed her with his good hand.

She’d been dreaming. Blinking rapidly, Kelly tried to take stock of her surroundings. But her immediate attention was focused on Justice.

He’d caught her, preventing her fall with his body. He was so close to her she could feel the warmth of his lean body, could almost hear his heartbeat. She could certainly feel her own heart beating wildly.

She could also feel every one of his fingers. He wasn’t holding her that tightly. She was just super-sensitized to his touch, deliciously rough against her soft skin. He had calluses. He smelled of soap and shaving cream. She was wildly tempted to sniff his cheek, to lean closer and fall into his incredibly blue eyes….

“Hey,” he said gruffly, “I thought you promised that you weren’t going to throw yourself at my feet.”

A bucket of cold water couldn’t have snapped her out of her momentary reverie faster. “I’d like to throw something, all right,” she muttered, shifting away from him on the couch. “And not at your feet. At your head. What time is it?”

“O-five hundred.”

“Five in the morning?” She hadn’t gotten to sleep until after one, tossing and turning on the couch. And that dream she was having was just getting really good. Not that she’d been dreaming about Justice. She hadn’t. She was sure that the man in her dreams bore a striking resemblance to the sexy actor Dylan McDermott. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

“Affirmative. Time to rise and shine and get this physical therapy thing going,” Justice stated. “The faster we get started, the faster we’ll be done, and then you can go your way and I can return to my tour of duty.”

“First I need to see your medical records.”

“I’ve got them here.” Using his left hand, he waved them in front of her sleepy face. “Had them faxed from the mainland.”

“Fine. I’ll read them.” She barely stifled a yawn. “But first I need coffee and a shower, in that order.”

“Go ahead, but be fast about it. No dawdling for an hour in the bathroom trying to make yourself beautiful.”

“I could stay in the bathroom for a week and I still wouldn’t be beautiful,” she wryly retorted. “I told you, I’m not my sister.”

“So I’m learning.”

“Oh, so you are capable of learning? That’s an encouraging sign.”

“You sure are a feisty little thing, aren’t you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh puhlease! For one thing, I’m not little. I’m five foot seven in my bare feet. For another I’m not feisty.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Yes, but then you’re a Marine, easy to fool.”

“You’re just saying that to get to me,” Justice calmly replied. “See? I am learning.”

“Yes, you are. And you’re blocking my way to my morning caffeine so move, or face my wrath.”

“Wrath, huh? Is that anything like trifling with a trouncing?”

“No, it’s much worse. Now move.”

“Not a morning person, are we?” At her fiery look, he backed up. “Okay, okay, I’m moving.”

Still bleary-eyed, she headed for the kitchen and the thermos of coffee she’d left there last night. Cold coffee was better than no coffee. It was actually still a little warm, and she felt the caffeine hit her system as she grabbed clean clothes from her backpack on her way to the bathroom.

A shower helped restore her. She dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Her hair was still damp as she returned to the kitchen to confront Justice.

Only now did she notice the shirt he was wearing, which was one of those brilliant multicolored Hawaiian designs. How could she have missed that before? “Nice shirt,” she noted.

“It’s not mine,” he growled. “My buddy Striker owns this beach house and a collection of gaudy Hawaiian shirts.”

Judging from Justice’s disgusted expression, she figured he hadn’t chosen to borrow his friend’s clothes out of a desire to make a fashion statement. No doubt his injury made getting in and out of a button-down shirt easier than a T-shirt like he’d been wearing last night. And no doubt Justice hadn’t brought any shirts of his own, or he’d be wearing them and not this tropical number. He hadn’t done up all the buttons, leaving a sexy amount of his chest bare.

Time to change the subject, she decided. “So what’s for breakfast?”

“Toasted physical therapists,” he drawled.

Kelly cracked up. “I don’t believe it. The brooding Justice Wilder actually made a joke. This has got to be a first.”

“Who said it was a joke?”

“I’m tougher than I look. You don’t want to dine on me, believe me.” She opened the fridge and pulled out the fresh eggs in the box of provisions she’d brought with her yesterday. “How do scrambled eggs sound?”

His growling stomach was answer enough. Hers quickly followed suit. “Okay.” She reached for a frying pan. “A big rasher of scrambled eggs coming right up.”

Justice surreptitiously watched her as she moved around the kitchen with a speedy efficiency. She was into multitasking—beating the eggs with a fork in one hand while she popped pieces of bread into the toaster with the other. She seemed to have recovered from her earlier grouchiness.

Today she was wearing a pair of khaki walking shorts and a plain pink T-shirt. The sandals she wore displayed her feet and the neon pink nail polish on her toenails. Her question mark earrings once again dangled in her ears. Her damp hair was gathered up in one of those plastic clip things to keep it out of her way. She didn’t look particularly gorgeous but he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her.

Maybe it was her can-do attitude, or her off-key humming of a Faith Hill country song. She wasn’t her sister. She hadn’t spent a lot of time in the bathroom messing with makeup. In fact, he doubted she was wearing any. But as she passed by his seat at the small dining table, he noted that she smelled really good. Not all perfumy, but fresh and sexy.

Sexy? Dismiss that thought. This was his ex-wife’s baby sister here. Okay, so she was only five years younger than Barbie, which also made her five years younger than he was. Not a big deal. Age wasn’t the issue here. Family connections were.

She was here for one purpose, or so she said. To increase his chances of recovering the full use of his right arm. His shooting arm. He’d been one of the best sharpshooters Force Recon had ever seen. And now he sat here barely able to pick up a damn cup of coffee.

“What makes you think you can do anything to help me recover the mobility in my arm?” he abruptly demanded.

“The fact that I’m good at what I do. But I need to review your medical records before I can tell you anything definite, read the doctor’s orders for your treatment.”

“It’s all right here.” He impatiently shoved the file across the table, wanting those incriminating papers away from him. He already knew what they said by heart. Prognosis: unknown. Critical ligament damage…full recovery of mobility unlikely.

Well, Justice had dealt with “unlikely” and “unknown” before. More times than he could count, in fact. It had been unlikely that he would survive that last mission in a certain Middle Eastern country rumored to harbor terrorists.

But he had survived. Only to come back to the States to get injured.

“I forgot to ask you last night, how does it feel to be hailed a hero for rescuing that little boy from that burning car?” She placed a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs in front of him.

“It stinks.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad a cook,” she protested. “So I overcooked the eggs a little.”

“I meant that stupid hero thing. It’s not true.”

“It’s not true that you rescued a toddler from the back seat of a burning car after you witnessed a car accident near Camp Lejeune?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Justice growled.

“Fine.” She shrugged and sat down across from him, digging into her own breakfast. “We can discuss something else. Like how much you love my gourmet cooking.”

“The eggs are good,” he grudgingly admitted.

“Oh, my! I do declare that such flowery praise will surely go to my head.” She dramatically placed the back of her hand across her forehead in the manner of a swooning Southern miss.

Instead of acknowledging her mocking comment, he said, “How long will it take you to review my medical records?”

“Not long. I’m a fast reader.”

“Good. Because I want to get started on this op as soon as possible.”

“Op?”

“This operation, this mission.”

“I see. So you’re considering your recovery as you would any mission assigned to you? That’s a good thing, I suppose.”

“A Marine never fails.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“If you’re referring to my failed marriage to your sister—”

“I wasn’t,” she quickly interrupted him. “I meant that no one can guarantee a 100 percent success rate at anything.”

“No excuses, no exceptions.”

“Seems like a pretty tough philosophy to maintain.”

“The Marine Corps is supposed to be tough. It’s not a place for wimps.”

“Yeah, physical therapy is like that. Not a place for wimps. Oh, I almost forgot…” She returned to the counter to hand him the special concoction she’d mixed up in the blender. It did not escape his notice that she’d only poured one glass, not two. One glass, just for him. “Here, drink this.”

He grabbed her wrist. “What did you put in here?”

Startled, she tried to pull away.

“Answer me. What did you put in here?”

“Wheat germ, a banana, some strawberries, orange juice, a little vitamin B.”

“And what else?”

“Nothing else.”

“Do you swear on my mother’s life?”

His expression made her shiver. “Yes.”

He abruptly released her wrist.

“Why?” Her voice was husky with emotion. “What did you think I’d put in there?”

“My pain medication.”

She stared at him in amazement. “You thought I was trying to drug you against your will?”

“That thought did cross my mind, yes.”

“You clearly have a suspicious mind.”

“It’s kept me alive more times than I can count.”

“We’re not in a battle zone here.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s an ingrained part of my training, thinking of scenarios and outcomes, thinking of everything as a weapon, even this fork.” He used the utensil to eat the last bite of scrambled eggs. “You call it being suspicious, I call it being alert, never letting down my defenses.”

She realized then how deep his distrust truly ran—not just of her but of everyone and everything around him.

“If I gave you my word that I won’t drug you, that it’s completely unethical for me to do so, would that make you feel better? If I swore on your mother’s life, as you put it, would that make you feel better?”

“The only thing that will make me feel better is regaining complete mobility of my arm and rejoining my squadron. Anything less than that is unacceptable.”

Kelly had worked with patients before who’d been unable to accept their injuries and the limitations that had subsequently been placed on them. Inevitably it made their recoveries slower. But there was no speeding up the acceptance process. Each individual had to get there at their own rate, in their own time, in their own way. She had a feeling that Justice’s way would be the hard way. He wasn’t a man to take the easy route.

She didn’t even realize that she was absently rubbing her wrist until he spoke.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t trust me,” she replied. “That’s bound to make this process more difficult.”

“I told you, I don’t trust anyone.”

“Not even your own family?”

“Of course I trust them.”

“Then trust that your mother knew what she was doing when she sent me to you.”

“I trust her, not her judgment about everything.”

“Oh, so you think I conned your mother into sending me here?” Kelly asked mockingly. “Sure, I can understand that. After all, she’s such a gullible lady. Very naive. Easy to fool. Nothing to pull the wool over her eyes. An easy mark. A real bubblehead.”

“Hey, nobody calls my mom a bubblehead,” Justice growled.

“My point exactly. She’s one of the sharpest women I’ve ever met.”

“Okay, okay, so my mother is not easily fooled. Point taken.”

“I hope so. I’d rather not have this conversation every time I offer you a drink. Think of all the energy you’re expending on that distrust.”

“It’s not wasted energy.”

“Yes, it is. That mind-set may be useful during one of your covert special ops, as you called them, but you don’t need that kind of defense mechanism in this situation. You’re safe here.”

Didn’t she understand that he wasn’t safe anywhere? He’d let down his guard when he’d rushed in to save that toddler, and look where it had gotten him. If he’d been more alert, he might have fallen differently. He’d been trained to drop and roll and had avoided injury so many times in the past. It was one of the reasons he’d gotten his nickname.

No, he definitely was not safe, not from the nightmares about the car bursting into flames, not about the doubts that he refused to even acknowledge.

He had no room in his life for such things.

Kelly claimed she could help him, fine. Here was her chance to prove it. He’d always been a man who believed more in actions than in words.

That didn’t mean he trusted Kelly, or her motives. Bottom line was that she was still his ex-wife’s sister and his divorce had not exactly been an amicable one. Kelly might still have some sort of hidden agenda for coming here. Which meant he’d have one, too.

Point, counterpoint, strike, counterstrike. It’s what he did, how he thought. Trust was not a requirement for getting the use of his arm back.

“You’d better start reviewing my medical report so we can get this op under way.” He impatiently waited while she read through the file. “Well? What’s the plan? You do have a plan, right?”

“Give me a minute here.”

“Because planning plays as important a role in the preparation of battle as in the conduct of battle.”

“Which is all very well and good but we’re not talking about a battle here.”

“Yes, we are. I’m not stupid enough to think otherwise. It’s going to be a battle to get my strength back.”

“There’s no guarantee your arm will recover fully, but you have a much better chance of increasing your range of mobility with physical therapy and time.”

“I don’t have much time and I’m not interested in merely increasing my range of mobility. I want my arm back the way it was before.”

“I can’t guarantee that will happen, Justice,” she said quietly.

“No excuses, no exceptions.”

“And no false promises of a miracle cure. We can just take this one step at a time and see how things progress. Deal?”

She held out her hand.

He reluctantly took it in his. His fingers were warm against her skin as he gingerly wrapped them around her hand. Even something as simple as a handshake proved difficult. Gritting his teeth, he silently railed against his own weakness.

“Don’t push yourself to do too much too soon, that will do more damage than good,” she warned him.

“Have you always been this bossy?”

“No, I think I’ve become bossier with age and now I’m getting pretty darn good at it. Which is a good thing considering that you’re used to drill instructors screaming orders at you. But don’t worry, I’ll try not to be too hard on you. No marching orders, none of that ‘right face’ or ‘forward march’ stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Not the appropriate military terminology? Sorry about that. Medical terminology is more my thing. For example, antibodies. Everyone knows that antibodies are against everyone. And that an enema is not a friend. Hey, was that a smile I saw there, soldier?”

“I’m a Marine, not a soldier.”

“Sorry, I’ll repeat the question. Was that a smile I saw there, Mr. Big Bad Marine?”

“It was gas.”

“Listen, buddy, any more jabs at my cooking and you’ll be pulling kitchen duty. And don’t even think about calling me a feisty little thing again.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“I’m still waiting to hear your plan.”

“Okay, then. Here it is. We start out nice and easy…” Kelly began when he immediately interrupted her.

“I don’t like that plan.”

She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Maybe this should be the part where I point out that I’m the one with the training and you’re the one who is supposed to be heeding my advice.”

“I don’t do nice and easy,” Justice informed her.

She was not impressed. “Then it’s about time you learned. Just pretend you’re back in boot camp.”

Now he looked insulted. “There’s nothing nice or easy about boot camp. It’s twelve weeks of grueling and exhausting work meant to separate the cream of the crop from the rest.”

“You didn’t let me finish. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, just pretend you’re back in boot camp, only this time instead of your goal being to become a Marine, your goal is to increase your mobility. You’re very lucky that overall you’re in such good physical shape.”

“Lucky?”

She noted the bitterness in his voice. “Yes, lucky. I’ve dealt with patients who have terminal illnesses, patients who have been paralyzed by car accidents. Compared to them, you’re sitting pretty.”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here.” His curt words were like bullets. “I’m a member of the Marine Corps’ most elite force, which means I have to be at the top of my game. I have to pass stringent physical exams to return to my squad. These are men who can drop and do a few hundred one-handed push-ups without even breaking a sweat. My injury may seem measly to you…”

“It’s not measly, Justice. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. The bruising and lacerations on your legs will heal with time. And your concussion was slight, although you should have rested and not been traveling out here. But the damage to your shoulder is very serious indeed. I wasn’t trying to belittle your injury or the effect it’s had on your life. I’m just saying that in the whole spectrum of things, it could have been much worse. You could have been paralyzed or killed when that car exploded.”

Justice didn’t tell her how he felt, that he might as well have been killed if his future as a member of Force Recon was gone. She wouldn’t understand, she couldn’t know how much who he was involved what he did. The definition of invincible was “incapable of being overcome or defeated.” That was no longer true. Which left Justice feeling incapable, period.

“I realize that a brush with death makes most people question things in their lives…” Kelly began when he interrupted her again.

“Marines aren’t most people. And this certainly wasn’t the first time I’ve had a brush with death.”

His words chilled her. She’d known his work as a Marine meant he was exposed to danger, but she’d somehow never considered the fact that he might actually die serving his country.

She had to take a sip of freshly brewed coffee before going on. She steadied her trembling fingers by wrapping them around her coffee mug. “Why do you do it? Why do you put your life at risk?”

“Because my country needs me. It’s what I do and what I’m good at doing.”