Читать книгу Redeeming Her Brooding Surgeon - Sue MacKay - Страница 12

‘KRIS, GOT A MINUTE? I’d like you to look at my patient.’

Kristina Morton ignored the man, even when his voice was like fingers picking at keys on a piano. Only that morning everyone had returned on board from a three-day break, and she’d missed him way too much for someone she wasn’t involved with.

‘Kris, over here,’ Chase called again, a little less friendly and a lot louder.

She continued walking through the overcrowded cabin towards the steps leading out on deck. About once a week he used the abridged version of her name, winding her up something awful. He hadn’t a clue to the depth of anger and hurt being called Kris caused her—neither was he about to.

‘Kristina, your attention now.’

Kristina’s back straightened, her chin jutted forward and her arm began lifting in a salute. Stop. You’re not in the army now. Being the person in charge of personnel on this ship didn’t give Chase the right to shout at her. Or shorten her name. But, she sighed, he had finally used the name she answered to. Slowly turning, she asked calmly, ‘Which patient do you want me to see?’

Determination radiated out of eyes that reminded her of an English forest on a damp day. Chase wasn’t used to being ignored. Everyone complied with his requests no questions asked, but then they weren’t usually delivered as abruptly. So it was her that got his boxers in a twist. Good. Because he certainly kept her panties in a knot. Those sparks she’d experienced on day one of this adventure hadn’t died down one bit. Instead, they’d got brighter, sharper, hotter during the weeks of working together. Neither of them had made a move to explore where that raw attraction might lead. She did her best not to be alone with Chase, and suspected he did the same, but the relentless ache was getting to her, and she spoke more abruptly than she’d intended. ‘Is it the pregnant lady needing help?’

‘Sorry I yelled,’ he growled around a wary smile. ‘You didn’t seem to be hearing me.’

‘Really?’ She tipped her head sideways, locked her gaze with his and tried to deny the surge of longing those eyes brought on. Another six weeks of working alongside him. Keep this up and she’d either dislike him intensely or have gone raving mad with desire by the time she left the ship for good. Somehow she doubted dislike would make it onto the ladder.

Chase blinked and his face relaxed some more. ‘Yes, that lady. She won’t let me near. No doubt because I’m male.’

‘You know that’s not uncommon.’ The pregnant women who arrived on the ship via the rescue efforts weren’t used to men pressing their bellies and listening to their unborn babies through stethoscopes.

‘I keep hoping for a different outcome.’ Chase smiled ruefully. She knew he ached for these people like she did. ‘This woman doesn’t speak English.’

‘I’ll find Zala and ask her to explain what we’re doing and if it’s all right to continue.’

Chase’s chin lifted a notch. ‘Zala?’

Kristina smiled to herself. Chase wasn’t the only one who got onside with the refugees effortlessly. He just thought he was. ‘She arrived yesterday. I overheard her asking for water in English.’ Not that it had been easy to understand her mangled pronunciation, but when she’d handed the girl a bottle of water she’d received the most beautiful smile imaginable and a garbled thank you. ‘I don’t know how much she understands but any is better than none.’

‘Agreed. Bring her in and see if we get any further with our patient.’

Kristina gasped. Why hadn’t her senses warned her Chase had moved closer? Suddenly her body was getting up to speed with the fact that this man was too near, sharing the same air as her. Damn the attraction for those arms and legs, for the flat stomach and strong jawline nailing her feet to the floor. She’d spent six long weeks trying to kill off the annoying magnetism Chase’s body had for her. Her mind had it worked out—he was not a man to get close to. He was self-contained in every aspect, appeared to work every hour day and night, was on a life mission to save people no matter where that took him—or so the gossip went. Gossip that fitted with what Libby had told her. She couldn’t risk falling for someone who couldn’t settle down in a place for more than one Christmas in a row. Because, while she wasn’t any better, she was at least working on it.

Time to try some other tactic for moving past the unusual longing to get to know this man who dominated her mind so much. He was all wrong for her, as she was for him. He didn’t have time for anyone who wasn’t a patient in need of his extraordinary medical skills, so she had to stop thinking about him in any role other than the director from whom she took orders. Instructions, not orders. Whichever.

Dreaming about his body and what she’d like to do with it didn’t change the fact she had no room for people who didn’t have time for her. There’d been enough already, starting with her parents. Adding someone else to the list was a recipe for disaster, especially when she had an uneasy feeling that she could get a weeny bit too intrigued by Chase.

Out on deck Kristina made her way through the hordes of people waiting patiently in the shade provided by tarpaulins strung from bulkheads to railings to be seen by the medical staff. Her heart ached for them and made her grateful she could help with their untreated deep-tissue injuries, burns from fuel, malnourishment, infections. Thank goodness Claire had left the ship. Her pregnancy made her vulnerable to illnesses she wasn’t prepared for. Now, there was someone whose life had changed since coming on board the ship. Claire had found love and a wonderful future to look forward to with Ethan.

Kristina shoved aside her envy and focused on reality. ‘Zala,’ she called.

‘Hello?’ The girl glanced at her from under lowered eyebrows.

‘How are you?’ She spoke slowly in order to be understood.

‘All right.’

‘Good. You had food?’

‘Yes.’

Kristina again looked around at the people sprawled on the hard deck, hunger, fear, worry in every pair of eyes watching her. If only she could fix everything for all of them. Back to Zala. ‘Can you help me talk to a woman who needs a doctor to examine...? To look at her baby.’

‘I...’ Zala tapped her chest. ‘I say what you say my way?’

‘Yes.’ Kristina nodded. ‘I’ll keep it simple.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘That’s all right.’ She reached for the girl’s hand, hesitated. Touching didn’t always mean the same thing to people from the Sudan as it did to Westerners. Retracting her hand, she said, ‘Come with me.’

Back in the treatment room, persistent Chase had returned to his pregnant patient, holding out a water bottle and talking softly, even though not a word was being understood. Around here it was all about the tone of voice and not the words. ‘I think we’re in labour,’ he told Kristina.

‘How do you know?’

‘The way her body stiffens every three minutes.’

Yea, she got her first smile of the morning. He should do that more often, it lightened the green of his eyes to that of a summer’s day in the fields. And set her heart dancing. Damn.

‘She’s not going to want you here.’ Kristina focused on the woman, avoiding getting tangled up in Chase’s searching looks and that blood-warming smile. ‘Do we know of any problems that could make delivery difficult?’

The woman caught her breath and pushed around the tightening in her extended belly.

‘Minor fever. Exhaustion that’s probably due to the pregnancy.’

‘Fingers crossed the baby hasn’t been infected with anything.’ Kristina indicated to Zala to move closer. ‘This woman’s having a baby.’

Zala nodded as if to say, So what? Seeing a birth was probably part of everyday life for her. There’d be no racing off to a hospital or calling out the midwife where she came from.

‘I’m clearing all male staff to the other side of the room,’ Chase said. ‘Call me if you need anything.’

‘I don’t think I’ve got much of a role here either,’ she said, before turning to the woman Zala said was called Marjali. Light stretch marks on the skin covering the extended abdomen confirmed this was not her first pregnancy. ‘She’ll know what to do as much as I do.’ More than I do.

Sweat shone on the woman’s forehead as she pushed and groaned. Zala sat at her other side and chattered in short, sharp sentences before telling Kristina, ‘Four babies. Two alive. On boat with her and father.’

‘Are they all right?’ What had happened to the other children? Kristina’s heart squeezed. She’d never get used to the despair these people faced daily. There were times she felt so inadequate she wondered if it would be better to leave them to what they were used to and not offer promises through medicine. But she hadn’t become a doctor only to turn her back on anyone needing her skills.

When her twelve weeks with Medicine For All were up she’d head back to England. She wouldn’t do another stint on the ship. It was too distressing. Many of the medical people who worked in the organisation coped well with—or managed to hide—their emotions. She struggled to do either.

A sharp cry brought Kristina back to the marvel that lay before her. The baby’s head was crowning while Zala chattered, excitement filling her dark eyes.

Kristina smiled as she watched the baby inching its way into the world. What was it like to give birth? To have a baby of your own? To hold him or her in your arms for the first time? She never gave much thought to it, afraid she wasn’t capable of being a good mother. Her own mother had taken her to Los Angeles when she’d left her father, but had been quick to hand her back when the new man in her life said he’d marry her as long as Kris wasn’t part of the package.

The man’s wealth spoke strongly to her mother’s lifelong fear of ever being poor again, and Kristina had been returned to England and her other parent, who’d immediately deposited her in boarding school because he’d been too busy to be there for her.

A sharp cry from Marjali and a tiny new life with the cutest face and a smattering of tight curls was delivered with one final push.

‘Oh, he’s beautiful.’ Kristina’s eyes moistened as she cut the cord and took the baby to check his temperature and general appearance before placing him on the scales attached to the nearby wall. Back home, with a weight of two kilograms, he’d have been admitted to the neonatal unit. Here all they could do was get nutrients into him so he might put on a gram or two before leaving. It could’ve been worse given the circumstances. Laying baby across his mother’s tummy, she said, ‘You made it look easy.’

Zala looked perplexed. ‘Women have babies. It’s normal.’

‘You’re right.’ Again she wondered about the odds of having her own baby. Strange how she was thinking about this. She hadn’t found a man to love her no matter what, let alone have a baby with, a man who wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself while he went off to follow his own dreams. That should be enough to knock her attraction to Chase out of the paddock. Since joining this ship she’d seen him playing with some of the youngsters who came on board, laughing with them, chasing a football and making sure each kid had a turn at scoring a goal. He understood them, enjoyed them, so why not want a family?

Crossing to a cupboard for cloths to clean Marjali, she passed Chase. ‘All done. One new little man has arrived in the world.’

‘That was fast. Does the baby appear healthy? In as much as you can tell without doing tests?’

‘A bit underweight.’

‘We’ll keep an eye on him while he’s with us.’ That was Chase-speak for making sure there were extra rations for Marjali over the coming days. What happened after she left the ship was out of their hands. Their job was to deal with these people for the time they were in their care, and then move on to the next intake.

‘Life’s so complex, yet Marjali makes this seem simple,’ she sighed, watching the woman cradling her son. Zala sat cross-legged, still talking non-stop, reaching out to touch the tiny bundle pushing into his mother’s breast, not knowing what to do when he found a nipple. But his mother did. Soon he was suckling. Whether he was getting anything nutritious was unlikely given Marjali’s malnourished condition.

‘Very unlucky for some,’ Chase said. Then looked directly at her, stealing her breath. ‘Sorry if that sounds simplistic.’

‘A lot of how our lives turn out comes down to where we are born, doesn’t it?’ There were the wild cards that life dealt when a person wasn’t looking but luck did contribute to how and where he or she sorted out those problems.

‘You think?’ His eyes sparkled and his mouth lifted into a weary smile.

‘I do.’ She smiled back, enjoying the connection without her hormones doing their dance. Then her back gave a stab of pain, and she tightened up, held still.

‘Hey, you okay?’ His instant concern could undo her resolve not to give in to the attraction between them. ‘You seem to be hurting more than usual.’

He noticed that pain struck her sometimes? ‘I’m good. An injury I received in the army is playing up, that’s all.’ She gasped. She never, ever mentioned that, not even light-heartedly.

His concern deepened. ‘Are you serious? Is that why you got out?’

She shook her head, wanting to deny the truth. But she couldn’t lie. ‘I took an honourable discharge. My back acquired a dislike to humping around overweight packs and war gear.’ She’d tried for light and friendly, thought she’d succeeded until she saw something in Chase’s steady gaze that said he wasn’t fooled. Something that drew her to tell him, ‘I took a severe wound to my thigh and twisted my back. It’s taking time but I’m coming right.’ She turned towards her patient, needing to shut down this conversation.

Chase said softly, ‘Glad to hear that, Kris.’

Her eyes closed and her head dipped. ‘Kristina.’

He chuckled. ‘Kristina.’

‘You...’ she spluttered as she turned back to him. ‘You’re deliberately winding me up.’ She laughed, for real this time.

‘Worth it to see your eyes widen as though I’d swiped one of your chocolate biscuits when you weren’t looking.’

Which he had a penchant for.

As Kristina absorbed Chase’s presence, her feet once again glued to the floor, the sparks that had flickered on and off between them since they’d met over Antoine suddenly became a raging fire in her veins. Worse, Chase was recognising her reaction.

Definitely time to put any dumb ideas about letting this attraction rule her head into the recycle bin. The only way to do that was to front up and explain she wasn’t interested. In other words, lie her heart out. Tonight she’d do something about it, despite Chase never acknowledging the magnetism hovering between them. There were moments when he looked at her as though he wanted her. That was when her body really hummed; and her mind argued with it. Tonight she would not go to her bunk the moment she’d eaten dinner to get some sleep before the next draining shift began. No, she’d face up to Chase and deal with this annoying interference that crossed her day too often, sending her into an uncontrollable tailspin.

* * *

‘Hey, Reid, how’s things?’ Chase settled his butt against the bulkhead of his private corner and stared out to sea, the phone hard against his ear.

‘I’m good. You?’

Chase let out a long, satisfying breath. ‘Another day almost done; more people helped, saved, fixed.’ The relief was immense. He could rest easy—until the next day got under way. Ethan would understand where he was coming from. ‘Not sure you’re aware you left your tablet on board. I can send it out on the helicopter and have them courier it to you.’

‘Keep it there till I come back. I don’t need it for the next couple of weeks. Claire doesn’t leave me time for reading.’ Ethan chuckled.

‘Glad to hear she’s keeping you on your toes.’ Chase grinned, and couldn’t deny the envy sweeping through him. ‘You decided where you’re going to look for work after you finish with us?’

‘I’ve been talking to the local refugee centre. If there’s a vacancy coming up in Marseille then I want my name on it.’ Ethan filled him in on what he’d been doing since he and Claire had left SOS Poseidon.

Chase listened avidly, enjoying the camaraderie—something he hadn’t known since he’d withdrawn from getting close to people after the loss of Nick. He was still hesitant about letting loose and talking about anything and everything, but every day over the past six weeks when Ethan had worked on board they’d inched closer and the tension had eased somewhat. He still wasn’t ready to let go the guilt about not saving Nick. And until he did that Reid would never get close.

For a span of time, standing here in his own small zone, letting Reid in, he could almost accept he’d made up for the past, could almost believe he deserved a chance at a future. Almost. Until he hit the pillow and the memories came knocking, and Nick appeared in his head. Then he’d have to get out of bed to start over.

‘Anyone special in your life?’ Ethan asked. When Chase growled, he added sadly, ‘Just learning about you. You know?’

Yeah, he knew. There was so much between them, and yet even more they hadn’t a clue about. ‘The answer to that should be obvious. There’s no one for a very good reason.’ Chase ignored the flare of pain. And the image of Kristina Morton that flashed into his mind. She might be as sexy as anything, but there was something about her that said don’t touch unless you’re serious. He was serious about having sex with her, but nothing more.

‘So you’re not interested in Kristina?’

Silence. He couldn’t lie. Neither would he give Reid ammunition to give him a hard time.

Ethan sighed. ‘She makes you laugh when no one else does. As for the sparks between the two of you, they had me looking for the fire extinguisher.’

Again Chase ignored him. Those comments were too close for comfort. If this was what having a friend was like, he didn’t need one. Except over the previous six weeks he had begun to look forward to moments talking with Ethan. ‘Nothing’s going to come of those sparks. I’m all work and no play.’ He already had parents and a sister who loved him and who he couldn’t risk letting down—like he believed he had Nick even knowing he couldn’t have changed a thing. The guilt did that to him. This getting a little friendlier with Reid didn’t mean he was capable of allowing a woman close.

The breeze moved around him, fanning his face. ‘Got to go. Talk to you again.’

Kristina slipped up beside him. Apparently she had no qualms about intruding into his private spot out here. From the first trip of the summer it had got around that this particular corner was his, and no one encroached. No one until tonight. Sure, he’d rung Ethan, and been relaxed about talking to him here, because it had been his choice. But... ‘Kristina?’

The breeze also held that scent of pine and flowers. That sweet and spicy aroma went with her all over the ship. Sometimes it followed him into sleep at night. Those were the times he woke restless and in need of a cold shower.

Why did she invade his privacy like she had a right to? Funny how he couldn’t find it in him to care. Instead, he felt unusually happy she’d joined him, a feeling he couldn’t explain, neither was he about to try. It didn’t mean he was letting her close. He hadn’t lost all his faculties. They might’ve locked eyes over breakfast, sending the temperature in the room off the scale, but he’d had to deny the need boiling in his gut. Had to. How they’d walked away from each other was a mystery. So send her away before it happened again.

‘Please, don’t call me Kris.’

‘Kristina. Got it.’ That morning he’d kept crossing paths with her as they’d gone about their patients, and the tension in his body had wound tighter and tighter. Calling her Kris had been a deliberate wind-up. He’d thought she’d be angry, but instead she’d made him laugh.

‘Good.’

‘Other people must shorten your name.’ There had to be a reason Kris upset her. She wasn’t the type to be precious about her name. She carried herself with confidence and the upright stance common to military personnel. That poise kept everyone on their toes, including him, until one day on the last trip he’d seen a wealth of pain glittering in her eyes as they’d watched a child being buried at sea. Her tiny heart had given up within hours of coming on board—lack of food, too much sun, and who knew what else had taken the ultimate toll. It had been personally painful for him. Failing to save that girl despite doing everything possible and then some to bring her back to life had pained him.

He hadn’t asked Kristina what was behind her agony. Things like that were too private to share. Hell, he was still getting used to the idea of him and Reid talking about the avalanche that had altered their lives for ever, and how Ethan had said they both had to learn to let go and move on. As if it was that easy. It could be. Oh, sure.

Leaning her elbows on the rail, Kristina stared out over the moonlit Mediterranean and breathed deeply, saying nothing.

A female who didn’t talk the lid off a pot? Nothing like Libby, then. His sister never knew when to stop gabbing at him about why he should stop wandering the world and return home to be near the family. Chase sighed. He came out here for solitude while he went through his day and gave himself a pat on the back if he’d saved anyone. But right now he craved to hear Kristina’s voice, couldn’t bear this silence between them. He went with something innocuous. ‘So you and Libby got on okay?’

‘She makes the best blueberry muffins ever.’ Kristina’s head bobbed, and hair fell across her cheek. It was rare for her to let it free from the severe ponytail that was her signature style. Army style?

Many times over the past weeks he’d itched to flick the thick rope that fell down her back, pull away the band holding it in place to run his fingers through the golden waves. Shoving his fists deep into his pockets, he trawled his mind for something safe to say. ‘What did you think of Merrywood?’

Kristina turned so the small of her back rested against the rail and a soft chuckle winded him with its warmth. ‘I loved it. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming, I wanted to stay on.’ Her fingers intertwined across her belly, tightening his gut further.

So much for playing safe. ‘It can become claustrophobic, though. Especially when you’re a teenager and don’t want your parents finding out you’ve been smoking down by the river with your pals.’

There was a wistfulness in her eyes as she said, ‘Surely that’s part of belonging somewhere?’

Yep, and it tied a person to everyone so that when things went wrong they all were affected. Chase watched her hands making slow circular movements over her abdomen. Was she aware she did that whenever she went all thoughtful?

This time the urge to make her talk, to break down her barriers didn’t bat him around the ears. Instead he relaxed, leaned against the rail, and went with being beside her, trying to accept this was as intimate as they should get. He had nothing to offer her other than a quick romp in the sack and they weren’t doing that. He didn’t trust this thing gripping him to let him go afterwards.

But Kristina was unlike any other woman who’d pressed his buttons. She pressed them hard. Could that be the reason for his restlessness? He wasn’t in the market for a partner. Not when he had to be finding more people to save, trying to redeem himself for Nick. How many more lives would it take to be free of the guilt?

Chase pushed the past aside, took a deep breath. The air was soft and warm, not cooling as the sun dropped below the horizon. Summer warmed his skin and his soul. There’d been a year when he’d followed summer around the world, working in countries where snow and ice were alien, because he’d known how snow could destroy a person and he would never put himself in that position again.

But it hadn’t been enough so he’d enrolled in med school to learn in earnest how to save people. London winters were cold but his heart had coped, had borne the pain that came with memories of a colder, icier, crueller place he’d never returned to. Not once. Never would. He couldn’t. It wasn’t in him to go there and bury the ghosts. They would never let him get away a second time. Except these past weeks, spending time with Reid, tentatively touching on what had happened, he’d begun looking at things in a different light. Would it be possible to put it all behind him one day?

Kristina’s soft voice snagged him. ‘I was called Kris in the army. When I wasn’t sir or captain.’ A tightness had crept into her tone.

‘You let them?’

‘Regardless of what the recruitment officers say, the military is still a masculine world. To fit in I was Kris. But I’ve objected to being called it since I was ten.’

‘Am I allowed to ask why?’

‘No big deal,’ she answered in a harsh tone, suggesting it was. ‘When my parents split up, my mother took me to LA with her where she met a man she was very keen on. When he proposed he told her in no uncertain terms that Kris was not part of the deal. The way he called me Kris was derogatory. I loathed it.’

Chase leaned closer, breathed deeply of her scent. He’d never call her Kris again. Not even as a tease. ‘Did your mother tell him where to go?’

‘No. I returned to England soon after.’

‘To live with your father?’

‘Dad was working twenty-four, seven trying to recoup the fortune he’d lost. I was sent to boarding school.’

‘Geez.’ She hadn’t known the loving family environment he’d grown up with, had taken for granted, and now struggled not to put in danger by being near them. Lightly dropping his arm over her shoulders, Chase tucked her close. ‘That’s lousy.’ A damned sight worse. His parents had stood by him through the days and years following the avalanche and still did. There’d been times they’d been so near he’d not been able to breathe, but he wouldn’t have swapped that for what Kristina had missed out on. Yes, he was incredibly lucky to have such a loving, caring family.

‘Yeah, it was.’

He daren’t delve deeper, afraid she might sprint away, regret telling him in the first place. He didn’t want her leaving his side, not until the tension in her stance softened and a smile returned to her eyes.

The silence returned, comfortable in an intimate way. Another first for him. The more he learned about this strong woman the more he wanted to know. Things like why she’d joined the army in the first place. Had she needed to belong to something, somewhere, to replace the lack of having a loving family around her? ‘Were you ever deployed overseas?’ He hadn’t been going to ask any more questions so his words surprised him.

‘I served in Brunei, where there are jungle warfare courses going on all the time.’

‘I can’t imagine being a soldier, charging around learning to kill people.’ He shuddered. ‘Not when my whole focus is on saving them.’ Hell, she had him talking, wanting to tell her what made him tick. This was his time out, yet Kristina had sauntered into his space and he started gabbing on like he’d been on a desert island for months.

‘It’s not quite like that. I was a medic first and foremost. But sometimes I found myself questioning why I was there.’

‘I’d be hopeless. Can’t take orders from anyone.’ Not since the day his skiing coach had dropped the ball when he’d been needed most. Coach Wheeler had phoned parents, tried to keep him from returning into the wrecked chalet, but he hadn’t rushed in to help pull Nick free.

She turned under his arm and smiled up at him. ‘Now, there’s a surprise.’

He laughed, a belly-deep reaction that spread throughout his psyche. ‘I know. Pig-headed is another term for the way I get things done.’ Studying the sea, he asked, ‘Do you miss the military life?’

‘Not at all.’ Her smile switched off. ‘It wasn’t what I wanted after all.’ A little shiver and, ‘See you in the morning.’ Then she was gone, striding across the deck in that sharp, exact way of hers, heading for the hub of what went on day after day. Her leg left pulled a fraction higher on the upward movement. He’d noticed weeks ago how some days were worse than others, and how she sometimes winced or rubbed her lower back when she thought no one was looking. She wasn’t one to complain or talk about her aches and pains.

She was back, a light smile on her face that heartened him. ‘By the way, you’d make a lousy commanding officer.’ Straightening, she mimicked him. ‘Kristina, your attention—now.’ This time she did leave him, flipping her hand over her shoulder on the way.

She left him chuckling yet bereft of company when he’d never before wanted anyone sharing this precious hour away from the cries and arguments and chatter that filled the ship twenty-four seven. Sometimes his head would be splitting apart with everyone’s pain, his own grief and guilt working its way into the centre of it all, reminding him why he was there, and stressing that he’d never be able to escape to a normal life back in England close to his family. He had to continue moving, keep finding more people to save. Working for MFA did that by bringing him and those people together. Day after day, week after week. There was no end to it. And not likely to be for the rest of his life. Which suited him perfectly.

Except Kristina didn’t recognise his barriers, or ignored them, relentlessly chipping away, making him feel a little happier with life. Hell, he’d put his arm around her to give her warmth and support. Something more than her beauty, her confidence, her quietness, her heat-provoking body got to him—come on, it was a combination of all those.

Yeah, but there was an indefinable something else he couldn’t put his finger on. When she’d told him about her name he’d known instantly she didn’t talk about that to anyone, yet she’d told him. Not to shut him up, or at least not to let him think it was on a whim, but because she’d wanted him to understand there were heartfelt reasons behind her need to be called Kristina. She’d even told him those. Information he didn’t want because it made him care. From now on he was done talking to her about anything deep. He had to be or he was doomed.

Chase tried to connect the dots between the doctor and her role as a soldier. Though the circumstances were poles apart, the requirements for patience and tolerance would be the same, yet he couldn’t quite imagine Kristina issuing orders. Around here other medics did her bidding without question, her manner friendly and relaxed while underscored with determination, but a military officer would have to be sharp and firm. Bet she filled out the uniform perfectly.

Hell, he was in need of some diversion. Last time he’d got like this a nurse had spent a night with him on their three-day leave from the ship. Eight months ago, at the end of last summer. That was the last time he’d had sex? So it wasn’t sleep he needed, was it?