Officer, Surgeon…Gentleman!. Janice Lynn

Officer, Surgeon…Gentleman! - Janice Lynn


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voice warning that she protested too much, that hate was a strong emotion and she should be careful: the opposite of hate was love.

      That was one emotion she could never feel for Cole.

      Great. Cole sighed in frustration at Amelia’s narroweyed rejection of his smiled peace offering. Right back to square one.

      For just a millisecond when their gazes had met, before the anger had slid into place, he’d glimpsed the same curiosity that burned in his soul. A curiosity that made him long to open Pandora’s box and dive into the unknown depths of whatever mysteries lay between them.

      He cursed that her anger had quickly bubbled to the surface and drowned out all other emotions. Amelia hated him for what she believed he’d done to Clara and she wasn’t going to forgive him any time soon. If ever.

      Damn it. He wanted her forgiveness. Now. Yesterday. Two years ago.

      Patience had never been one of his virtues, but surely he didn’t expect her to welcome him on his first day aboard ship?

      No, Amelia Stockton was like a wild mustang. To gain her trust would require endurance, fortitude, strength of mind, diligence.

      Why Amelia? Why Clara’s sister? He’d asked himself why a thousand times. More. But he never came up with a satisfying answer.

      Satisfying. A wry smile twitched at his lips. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Amelia he hadn’t been satisfied in years.

      He hadn’t. Amelia had bewitched him and he simply didn’t want anyone other than her. No doubt that played into his current level of frustration, but sex for the sake of sex had been a poor substitute. After a few failed attempts to forget Amelia, he hadn’t been willing to settle for that.

      He still wasn’t, which explained the insanity of his request to serve on the USS Benjamin Franklin.

      Amelia’s glossy dark hair was swept back in a ponytail, swishing to and fro with each movement of her tight body. Her legs pumped the elliptical machine back and forth, her arms making a rapid ski motion while she stared straight ahead as if she couldn’t see him, as if he no longer existed. Was that what she’d done? Written him out of her life as if they’d never shared kisses that had set his insides aflame?

      Cole bit back an appreciative groan. He wasn’t the type who ogled women at the gym. Usually. Today, he was thankful his gym shorts were loose. Otherwise he’d find himself in an embarrassing predicament. She was hot—and not just because sweat glistened on her skin, dampened her hair.

      He wanted to step into her fire and go up in smoke. Rich, deep, satisfied smoke.

      “Ame—Dr Stockton,” he recalled just in time, climbing onto the elliptical on the opposite side of her, reminding himself to take baby steps, not to push too much too soon or his hopes for the future would be what went up in smoke.

      Without glancing toward him, a scowl was her only response.

      Cole reminded himself not to jump the gun. Eventually, Amelia would come around, would see that he was the same old Cole who had once been such an integral part of her life. He hoped. He desperately wanted that position back. But this time he didn’t want her to see him as her sister’s fiancé and he sure didn’t want her feeling like his baby sister.

      Not that he believed she’d kissed him that way. No, Amelia had wanted him the way a woman wanted a man when the chemistry is crackling.

      They’d crackled.

      “Hi,” a pretty Asian woman on Amelia’s right called, leaning forward. “Amelia was just telling me you’re the new surgeon.” The woman ignored the I’m-going-to-kill-you glare coming her way from Amelia and gave him a welcoming nod without missing a beat on her machine. “I’m Suzie Long, one of the two dentists. Welcome aboard.”

      Grateful for a friendly face in enemy territory, he flashed a smile. “Nice to meet you, Suzie. Or should I say Dr Long?”

      Blowing out an exasperated huff, Amelia muttered something unintelligible under her breath.

      “Unless I’m telling you to open wide,” the petite woman flirted, giving him a friendly smile, “it’s Suzie.”

      Liking her, Cole laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

      In between them, Amelia stopped exercising, waited for inertia to catch up with her machine. The moment the movement stilled enough for safe dismount, she climbed off. Without a word to him and only a glare at the woman she’d been chatting with until he’d joined them, she walked off. Picking up a gym bag, she took out a sports bottle and took a long drink.

      Cole tried not to watch. But he did. When it came to Amelia he couldn’t help but watch. His throat grew dry, withering him with thirst. A thirst he desperately wanted to quench, but which only her lips could quell.

      Medical school had trained him to do without sleep. The navy had trained him to do without basic life necessities. Neither had prepared him for denying his need for Amelia.

      “You’re so barking up the wrong tree,” the dentist advised, following his gaze to where Amelia tightened the lid and dropped the water bottle back into her bag. “Not meaning to be blunt, but she can’t stand you.”

      “I know.” He sighed. “She has reason.”

      “She told me.”

      Cole cut his gaze to her. “She told you?”

      “About her sister and you? Yep.”

      That surprised him.

      Apparently reading his mind, the woman went on. “I doubt she’s told anyone else you were a runaway groom, though. Shame on you for that, by the way!” Her smile softened her reprimand. “Amelia and I are bunk mates.”

      Runaway groom? He cringed at the description. Yes, he supposed that’s how Amelia saw him. He glanced toward the woman two machines down. “You’re Amelia’s bunk mate? That’s good to know.”

      Her expression was positively wicked. “In case you ever want to visit?”

      “In case I ever want to visit,” he repeated, his gaze going back to where Amelia lifted a dumbbell from its rack. Her toned flesh flexed as she extended the weight, muscles shifting temptingly with her movements, making Cole think of other ways her muscles would shift with movement.

      Snorting, Suzie’s gaze followed his. “Yeah, right. She would have you court-martialed if you so much as made a pass at her. Even if she didn’t think you were the scum stuck to the bottom of the boat, she wouldn’t be interested in an on board romance. Her career means too much to her for that.”

      Not that on board sexual activities didn’t occur, but one could lose everything if caught. Much better to take their time aboard ship to reestablish their friendship and earn her trust, as planned. Not destroy his career as well.

      Besides, the only reason his request to serve aboard Amelia’s ship had been granted was that they both valued their careers enough not to put them as risk. Of that, he had no doubt. When they were at port call, off ship, well, all was fair in lust and war, but Cole hadn’t pointed that out.

      Suzie eyed him expectantly, waiting for his comeback, waiting for him to tell her what she wanted to know. What she already knew because she could see his interest in Amelia as plain as the nose on his face.

      If he played his cards right, she might just be on his side. An ally behind enemy lines. Something he hadn’t counted on. Not beyond the person who’d helped him get on board.

      A slow smile spread across his face. “What I want to know is whether or not you think I’m the scum on the bottom of the boat, too?”

      Obviously pleased by his response, the woman laughed. “I think you’re far worse than the scum on the bottom of the boat, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to like you, anyway.”

      His gaze went back again to where Amelia curled a free weight,


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