Officer, Surgeon...Gentleman!. Janice Lynn
what she’d asked him not to do before she’d kicked him out of her dorm. He’d come for her. This time, he wouldn’t let her push him away. Not when there were unresolved feelings between them. One way or another, they would deal with the chemistry between them.
“We’re going to be working closely together for the next few months, Amelia.”
Her upper lip rose in an almost snarl at his use of her first name. He should call her Dr Stockton, but changing how he thought of her wasn’t going to be easy.
“If we don’t come to some sort of understanding, it’ll affect our jobs,” he told her honestly, knowing they did have to come to an understanding until they dealt with the past and appealing to her professionalism. “Neither of us wants that.”
“You’re the ship’s surgeon. I’m the general medical officer. You stay in your surgical suite, and I’ll stay in my sick ward.” Her gaze burned into him, searing him with her hatred.
Hatred he deserved in her eyes.
“Our paths don’t have to meet often,” she continued. “When they do, we’ll pretend we don’t see each other. No big deal.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to pretend he didn’t see her.
He wanted to see her. Lots of her. All of her.
Every delectable inch of her. Right here. Right now.
Wrong. He couldn’t do that even if she begged him to. He couldn’t kill his career. Sexual relations were strictly forbidden aboard ship and most often punished with a dishonorable discharge.
Hadn’t he wanted time for him and Amelia to get to know each other outside the parameters of their former relationship? Hadn’t he wanted time to win her trust before they acted on the physical chemistry? Wasn’t that why he was here? He needed to focus on the here and now. On work. On building bridges with Amelia, not getting her into bed.
“I’ll expect to consult with you on cases, Dr Stockton. I’ll expect to help when the sick ward is busy, and I’m not in surgery. Don’t be naïve in thinking we can easily avoid each other,” he warned. “Our paths are going to meet often.”
He’d see to it.
Her lips pursed in displeasure. “As I said, we’ll just pretend not to see each other.”
Frustration surged through him.
“No.” Hell, no. Seeing Amelia was why he was here.
Her brow quirked upward. “No?”
“Under the senior medical officer, I’ll be next in command in the medical division,” he pointed out. “I won’t have the GMO pretending not to see me. How would that look?”
“Who cares?”
“I care.” Cole’s comment stemmed from professionalism as much as personal desire.
“Afraid it might hurt your precious career?”
His career? Yes, suddenly he was afraid that being here, with her, might hurt his career. They needed forced time together, but just being near her again made reason fly out the door.
“I did mention that our not working as a cohesive team could hurt our careers,” he reminded her. “Mine and yours. But I’m more afraid not working together will compromise our patients’ health and the working environment of our colleagues.”
True, but not the whole truth.
Her full lips compressed into a defensive bow. “I would never purposely compromise one of my patients or my crew.”
“If you’re unwilling to discuss cases with me because of the past, you might make the wrong choice regarding whether or not a person needs a surgical consult.”
“Were you not listening? I just said that I wouldn’t compromise my patients’ health. If a patient needs a surgical consult, I’ll send him or her to you.” Her gaze narrowed, nonverbally telling him where he could go and that she’d love to shove him down the elevator shaft to take him there. “Got it?”
“Amelia—” At her glare, he sighed. “Dr Stockton,” he began again, wishing he knew what to say to mend the bridges he’d had to burn. He hadn’t had a choice.
“For whatever it’s worth.” He kept his voice steady, held her gaze even though looking away would have been easier than seeing the contempt burning in her brown eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened with Clara. I never meant to hurt her.”
Amelia’s pupils dilated and she failed to hide the pain that flashed across her face.
Pain that he’d caused.
Almost immediately a frigid glare replaced her hurt.
“And what you did to me?” she asked, studying him with eyes he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in. She would likely never forgive him, never let her guard down. “Are you sorry for that, too, Dr Stanley?”
“More than I can say.”
Maybe, just maybe, a six-month stint with her would give him the chance to put right a few wrongs from his past.
Chapter Three
“Wow, you’re really working up a sweat today,” Suzie, one of the two on board dentists and Amelia’s bunk mate, commented when she climbed onto the elliptical machine next to Amelia.
“You’ve no idea,” she mumbled, knowing she’d already beaten her best time on the exercise equipment by several minutes, yet still she pushed on. Faster and faster, drops of moisture running down her face, between her breasts, causing her sports bra to stick to her like a damp second skin.
Truth was, even if she weren’t on a stationary machine, all her efforts would be for naught.
Some things couldn’t be run away from.
Like Cole.
From the time she could walk, Amelia had faced life head-on. With one exception. Cole. Until the night before her sister’s wedding. As the maid of honor, she’d walked up the aisle toward him and been filled with longing. Longing she’d had no right to feel. Longing that had almost stopped her in mid-step.
She’d always been a bit in love with her sister’s perfect fiancé, had always hoped to meet a man like Cole someday. But during the rehearsal, when their eyes had met, she’d seen something she’d only caught glimmers of previously.
She’d seen matching attraction. Cole had wanted her. And not in a way a soon-to-be married man should want another woman, especially his bride-to-be’s little sister. He’d looked at her the way some dark, secret, forbidden part of her had always wanted him to look at her. He’d looked at her as if she were the most desirable woman in the world and he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to stand in her presence, to see her walking down the aisle toward him.
Which was ridiculous.
She wasn’t his bride-to-be, wasn’t desirable. But even now she could recall the way he’d stared at her, and the way her heart had pounded in response to his burning blue gaze.
“Um, Amelia.” Suzie interrupted her thoughts. “You want to talk about whatever’s eating you before that machine starts smoking?”
Amelia slowed her pace a few notches, dragged air into her protesting lungs and shrugged. Her bunk mate would prise the truth out of her eventually. By being up-front, perhaps she’d waylay her friend’s naturally suspicious nature and avoid questions she didn’t have answers to. “My sister’s ex-fiancé is the new surgeon. I don’t like him.”
Two simple sentences that held a world of complexity and heartache.
Suzie programmed her stair machine to her preferred workout routine. “Ouch. That sucks.” Her gaze flickered