Resisting Her Commander Hero. Lucy Ryder
“Want to call Security, Francis?” he drawled with a hint of amusement that did nothing but raise her blood pressure. And not in a good way.
“No,” she snapped, because he had awesome SEAL skills no security team could match. “I don’t want any witnesses when I use a scalpel.” Her unspoken, on you, hung in the air between them.
It had genuine amusement lighting his eyes and curling his mouth in a smile that had her gritting her teeth in aggravation. Arrogant BAB, she snarled inwardly, using the acronym she and Paige had thought of one night when they’d been a little tipsy. But “badass boy” fitted Nate like a pair of snug boxer briefs. Except seeing him now, it was clear he was no longer a boy.
“You thinking of taking me on, Francis?” he drawled smoothly, his gaze hot and intense one moment, dark and unreadable the next. The lightning-fast changes left her confused and more than a little irritated.
“You think I can’t?” she challenged, furious with the shiver crawling up her spine that had nothing to do with Paige using alcohol swabs on her scrapes and cuts.
Besides, taking him on while she was tired and hurting wouldn’t be smart. Not to her pride and certainly not to her heart.
She glared at him. Why couldn’t he take his sexy self off and leave her alone?
“You can try.” He smirked with typical male arrogance that had Frankie barely restraining herself from snarling.
Casually propping his shoulder against the door frame as though he had every right to be there, Nate locked his dark brooding eyes on his hapless target—her—his sensual mouth an uncompromising and disapproving line. All humor had gone.
Frankie shivered. Yeesh. She’d forgotten that about him, about his ability to focus so intently on a person they felt like the most important person in the world. Like they were under a microscope.
She turned away to stare at a wall chart without seeing a thing. But her body, the traitor, was locked like a tractor beam on him. And then...and then her nipples tightened and tingles spread across her skin like a heat rash that she blamed on the fact that she was cold and wet.
“Excuse me, Doctor,” she drawled, ignoring the hunk in the doorway. “But isn’t there a rule that says only family members are allowed in an ER room?”
Paige sent Nate a quick look and muttered something that sounded like, “Don’t pull me into whatever is between you two.”
Frankie felt guilty for about two seconds. She didn’t want to involve Paige but she wasn’t above using her friend as a buffer either. Especially when it came to Commander Cool.
“There isn’t anything to get between,” she said smoothly, ignoring Nate and mentally celebrating the complete disinterest in her tone.
“Frankie.” Paige protested her rudeness, but Frankie ignored the rebuke, watching Nate out of the corners of her eyes while pretending to ignore him too. For long moments he studied her until she was ready to start squirming.
Finally, with a casual roll of his shoulder, he pushed away from the door frame.
“It’s all right, Doc. I’ll go.” A big hand landed palm flat against the door in preparation of pushing it open. He paused and with a hard look at Frankie said to Paige, “For you.”
Meaning he’d never do it for Frankie. The notion stung, and before she could stop it, hurt sliced through her. Quickly squelching it with the full force of her will, she reminded herself that getting her feelings hurt by Nate’s attitude would not only be stupid but self-defeating. Besides, she was over her silly adolescent infatuation and the last thing she needed or wanted was someone with a hero complex.
She turned and locked gazes with him just as he pushed open the door. His mouth twisted with faint irony and the next instant he was gone.
Heavy silence descended on the room but Frankie could literally feel her friend vibrating with questions and maybe a bit of exasperation. She slid a sidelong look at her and caught Paige chewing on her lip. She could practically see the wheels spinning away in the brunette’s head and counted the seconds until the other woman cracked.
She reached nine.
“Seriously, Frankie?” Paige finally burst out. “You blew him off? Are you sick, dumb or just insane? And what the heck is going on between you two anyway?” she continued, without waiting for a reply.
“Nothing.” Frankie sighed, tension draining abruptly and leaving her beyond exhausted. “Nothing I want to talk about anyway. But I am confused about why everyone keeps referring to Nathan as Sammy.”
Paige was silent for a couple of beats as she studied Frankie. She must have decided not to probe because all she said was, “It’s his coastie handle.”
“Handle?”
Paige rolled her eyes. “His nickname, his moniker.”
“I know what a handle is, Dr. Cutie,” Frankie said, because she knew that moniker irritated Paige. Besides, why should she be the only frustrated person in the room? “I’m just not sure I understand this one.”
Paige shrugged and swabbed a particularly tender spot that had Frankie sucking in a sharp breath.
“I’m guessing it might have something to do with him transferring from the SEALs.” She sprayed her back with iodine. “Lie down, will you? I need to put in a few stitches.”
Frankie’s gut clenched. “Can’t you just glue them or something?”
“No. I can’t.”
“But—”
“I know you, Francis,” Paige briskly interrupted when Frankie opened her mouth to argue. “The first thing you’re going to do when you get home is ignore doctor’s orders and shower. Next thing you know you’re back here with an infection. Besides, I’ll make sure they’re small and won’t leave any scars.”
Her mouth snapped shut. Okay, so maybe Paige did know her. “Fine.” She lay facedown on the bed and propped her chin on her stacked hands. At some point she must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, Paige was tapping her arm.
“All done, sleeping beauty,” she said cheerfully, “and before you object, I’ve booked you off for a few days. Now go home and get some sleep. No picking up heavy objects or taking flying leaps off ledges. And absolutely no physical activity or you’ll undo all my hard work.”
Frankie sat up with a yawn and twisted to see Paige’s handiwork but her back was a patchwork of waterproof dressings. She tentatively rolled her shoulders to test her flexibility and was pleasantly surprised to discover that, though it pulled a little, it didn’t hurt.
“While you were snoring, I gave you a shot of pain meds and antibiotics,” Paige said, clearing up the mystery. “You should be good till the morning.”
“Which is in about an hour,” Frankie said, sliding off the bed and blinking blearily at her wristwatch. “How long was I out?”
“About twenty minutes.” Paige helped Frankie pull her jumpsuit up her arms and over her shoulders. “I’d let you sleep but Andrews is in charge tonight.”
Frankie brushed her hands away.
“I can dress myself, Mom, thanks.”
Paige backed off with a snicker and picked up a clipboard. She scribbled something then looked up. “Are your tet shots up to date?” Frankie grunted out a reply that the doctor must have understood because she tore a sheet off a pad and held it out. “I’ve prescribed antibiotics and pain meds. Get them. With all that bruising, you’re going to be sore in the morning.”
Frankie mustered a snappy salute. “Thanks, Doc,” she said, and with a quick hug headed stiffly for the door. “You’re the best.”
“Yes, I am.” Paige chuckled. “Just be sure to put that in the patient