The Nurse's Bodyguard. Melanie Mitchell
All eyes were on the huge man as he strode across the room. Claire saw appreciation in Luke’s face as he moved toward her, and her heart rate intensified. No man had ever looked at her that way before, with admiration tempered by respect.
“Are you ready to go?” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.
Her own smile was shy and a little uncertain. “Yes, I’m all checked out and charted.”
Luke walked very close to Claire as they crossed the lobby. It was nearing dinner time and the hospital was teeming with patients, family members and hospital staff.
Luke was both more and less imposing than before. Wearing his uniform, he’d been disconcerting, simply because the clothing conveyed such authority. The loose-fitting uniform shirt, however, had camouflaged his daunting size. Although Luke’s polo shirt was not tight, Claire couldn’t help but notice the bulk of the heavy muscles in his chest and arms and the thickness of his neck.
Luke’s size probably attracted attention back in the States, so in Korea, he was nothing short of a giant. As a result, his efforts to study the crowd—trying to spot anyone who seemed unduly interested in Claire—were hampered by the fact that pretty much everyone was staring at him. He didn’t seem too concerned, however. Perhaps because any potential assailants would be forestalled by his presence.
Initially both Luke and Claire were a little stilted. Luke tried to break the ice as they exited the building. “Thanks for coming with me like this. I know it’s short notice and all...”
Claire peered up at him and realized that he seemed to feel as self-conscious as she did. That such a self-assured man seemed nervous helped dispel some of her own anxiety. “Thanks for asking.” She smiled then glanced away. “I haven’t gotten out much since I’ve been in Seoul. It’ll be fun to go somewhere other than Jessica’s apartment and the medical center.”
The early awkwardness was starting to crack and Luke seemed more at ease. “Really? So, you haven’t had a chance to see much of Seoul?”
“No. I’ve worked nearly every day since I’ve been here. On Sundays I’ve gone to church with Jessica, but it’s a little daunting because she attends a Korean church and almost all of her friends and colleagues are Korean.”
He seemed to take her disclosure as a challenge. “Well, let’s see what we can do about that.”
Claire had to tamp down a twinge of fear as they entered the parking lot. Luke noticed her scouring the area. He didn’t comment, but lightly placed his hand on her arm. He led her to a nondescript beige Kia sedan and opened the passenger door, ushering her in. She couldn’t help a slight giggle as she saw him folding into the driver’s side a moment later. “Is this your car?”
“No, thankfully,” he said wryly. “It’s part of Yongsan’s non-official fleet. Base personnel can check out a car on a first-come-first-serve basis. Believe it or not, this is one of the larger vehicles.” He grinned at her. “The only cars I fit comfortably in are full-size pickups and SUVs—not these mini things. Of necessity I’ve learned to manage.” He started the engine. “Any preference on what you’d like for dinner?”
She smiled at him, realizing that sometime in the past few minutes, she’d lost her nervous edginess. “Actually anything that isn’t kimchi and doesn’t smell like fish sounds great... In other words, I’d love something remotely American.”
He grinned again. “Pizza?”
“Perfect.”
“I know just the place. There’s an Italian restaurant on Itaewon that does a terrific Chicago–style pizza.” He put the Kia into drive and headed toward the exit.
“I’ve not yet been to Itaewon,” Claire said.
Luke chuckled. “Well, there’s a first time for all of us. I’m sure you’ve heard about it. It’s kind of a cross between 5th Avenue in New York City and New Orleans’s Bourbon Street. Plus, it’s only a couple of miles from the Yongsan Army Base, so there are a lot of servicemen and a number of...not particularly reputable people.” He looked a little sheepish. “Well, you’ll see.”
Fifteen minutes later, Luke pulled into a parking spot in a very busy commercial area and Claire was able to take in the street first hand. She saw bustling department stores interspersed with classy restaurants and dives. Coffee shops were adjacent to small stores selling everything from T-shirts to leather goods to gold jewelry to knock-off purses and shoes. Street vendors sold CDs, DVDs and cigarettes, as well as an assortment of food items—most of which Claire didn’t recognize and didn’t find particularly appealing.
During the three-block walk to the Italian restaurant, Luke kept Claire closely at his side, with his hand on the small of her back. Instinctively, she leaned slightly toward him, enjoying the sensation of protection. He didn’t stand out nearly as much here, as at least one-third of the crowd were Westerners. Many of the men and women were obviously military, although only a few were in uniform.
The restaurant they entered could have been located in any city in the U.S. Although it was crowded at the dinner hour, they were quickly ushered into a booth. Settled into her spot, Claire studied her surroundings. The tables were covered in white cloths and graced with small vases of flowers and votive candles. The aroma of garlic, basil and tomatoes permeated the room. The patrons were a decided mix of locals and visitors, mostly dining in pairs and small groups. A waiter handed them each a menu and in passable English asked for drink orders.
“Would you like some wine?” Luke asked.
“No, thanks. I don’t drink much, but go ahead if you wish.”
“Can’t tonight. I’m actually ‘on call.’” Luke requested a soda from the waiter.
“I’ll have the same,” Claire said, and the server nodded, saying he’d be back shortly for their order.
“On call for what?” Claire asked. “Is it for the embassy?”
“No, it’s for my day job. Actually, day, night, whenever job. I don’t exactly keep regular hours. The embassy gig is necessary because I’m Navy and they don’t have enough Marine officers here to do weekend duty—long story—anyway, I’m glad now to have done it because that’s how I met you.” His quick smile was genuine, and Claire felt an odd flutter in her stomach. She blushed and glanced down to her menu.
“So, tell me about your ‘whenever job.’”
He shrugged. “I review surveillance feeds all day and write reports to send up the chain of command. Sometimes I go into the field to verify impressions...pretty routine stuff...”
Claire doubted that anything he did was routine, but he seemed hesitant to go deeper. “How long have you been here doing surveillance?”
“About a year. Before that, I was stationed in several places—mostly the Persian Gulf and the Middle East.” He’d been studying her face and abruptly changed the subject. “You have the most unusual eyes I’ve ever seen.” His voice was quiet, with a pensive quality, almost as if he’d spoken his thoughts out loud.
Claire glanced down at her napkin and then back up to catch his gaze. “Yes, uh...” She shifted awkwardly and pressed her lips together. “It’s called ‘sectoral heterochromia iridis’ if you want the technical name. Basically, it’s just an irregular pigmentation of the iris.” She took a breath. “I’ve had to respond to questions about it all my life...”
He looked sympathetic but didn’t drop the subject. “So you get a lot of people staring when they notice?” It was both question and comment. “I get the same reaction when anyone sees my feet.”
His offhand comment startled a giggle from Claire, and she couldn’t prevent a side glance to the floor to study his shoes. He hadn’t been joking. Luke’s eyes crinkled at the corners at her raised eyebrows.
In seconds, she grew serious again.