Married To A Marine
Married To A Marine
Cathie Linz
OPERATION: HEAL A HEROSubject: Justice Wilder, a true American hero. Badly injured while saving a small child's life–and possibly facing the end of his military career.Mission: Track down this stubborn, combat-hardened Marine on the isolated island where he's shut himself away. Convince him to accept someone else's help–for the first time in his life.Complication: Kelly Hart's skill as a physical therapist would heal his wounds. But what happens when he discovers she used to love him–and she realizes she still does?Mission Success: Uncertain. When a man and a woman share a tiny little cabin–and a whole lot of history–anything can happen!
What was she doing kissing Justice Wilder, letting him kiss her?
This was exactly what she had to avoid.
She’d started this, and she had to end it, before she melted into his arms and things got completely out of control.
In the end, they both pulled back at the same moment.
Kelly pressed trembling fingers to her lips, as if to keep the memory of his kiss there forever.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure quite what it was she was apologizing for.
“Forget it,” Justice said, his voice as curt and unemotional as ever. “It won’t happen again.”
But Kelly knew she’d never forget that kiss, not if she lived to be a hundred and fifty years old….
Dear Reader,
Summer is over and it’s time to kick back into high gear. Just be sure to treat yourself with a luxuriant read or two (or, hey, all six) from Silhouette Romance. Remember—work hard, play harder!
Although October is officially Breast Cancer Awareness month, we’d like to invite you to start thinking about it now. In a wonderful, uplifting story, a rancher reluctantly agrees to model for a charity calendar to earn money for cancer research. At the back of that book, we’ve also included a guide for self-exams. Don’t miss Cara Colter’s must-read 9 Out of 10 Women Can’t Be Wrong (#1615).
Indulge yourself with megapopular author Karen Rose Smith and her CROWN AND GLORY series installment, Searching for Her Prince (#1612). A missing heir puts love on the line when he hides his identity from the woman assigned to track him down. The royal, brooding hero in Sandra Paul’s stormy Caught by Surprise (#1614), the latest in the A TALE OF THE SEA adventure, also has secrets—and intends to make his beautiful captor pay…by making her his wife!
Jesse Colton is a special agent forced to play pretend boyfriend to uncover dangerous truths in the fourth of THE COLTONS: COMANCHE BLOOD spinoff, The Raven’s Assignment (#1613), by bestselling author Kasey Michaels. And in Cathie Linz’s MEN OF HONOR title, Married to a Marine (#1616), combat-hardened Justice Wilder had shut himself away from the world—until his ex-wife’s younger sister comes knocking…. Finally, in Laurey Bright’s tender and true Life with Riley (#1617), free-spirited Riley Morrisset may not be the perfect society wife, but she’s exactly what her stiff-collared boss needs!
Happy reading—and please keep in touch.
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
Married to a Marine
Cathie Linz
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Julie Murphy, P.T., for answering my questions about physical therapists, and to Cleo Pappas from the Lisle Public Library. This book is dedicated to the families of the men and women in our armed forces.
Books by Cathie Linz
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* (#litres_trial_promo)Stranded with the Sergeant #1534
* (#litres_trial_promo)The Marine & the Princess #1561
A Prince at Last! #1594
* (#litres_trial_promo)Married to a Marine #1616
Silhouette Books
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“Baby Wanted”
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Change of Heart #408
A Friend in Need #443
As Good as Gold #484
Adam’s Way #519
Smiles #575
Handyman #616
Smooth Sailing #665
Flirting with Trouble #722
Male Ordered Bride #761
Escapades #804
Midnight Ice #846
Bridal Blues #894
A Wife in Time #958
† (#litres_trial_promo)Michael’s Baby #1023
† (#litres_trial_promo)Seducing Hunter #1029
† (#litres_trial_promo)Abbie and the Cowboy #1036
Husband Needed #1098
CATHIE LINZ
left her career in a university law library to become a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary romances. She is the recipient of the highly coveted Storyteller of the Year Award given by Romantic Times and was recently nominated for a Love and Laughter Career Achievement Award for the delightful humor in her books.
Although Cathie loves to travel, she is always glad to get back home to her family, her various cats, her trusty computer and her hidden cache of Oreo cookies!
Contents
Chapter One (#ua6a538a4-432d-5fc1-8bbd-f9094e2ae447)
Chapter Two (#u2c81fa36-14ec-5a95-ac7e-ed3b9c9033c1)
Chapter Three (#u4e646900-c1dd-5bba-b3d0-147c94444789)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Lightning flashed against the distant night sky and reflected on the dark water. “You sure you’re expected?”
Kelly Hart nodded at the fisherman she’d hired to take her from the small North Carolina coastal town out to the island known as Pirate’s Cove. The impending thunderstorm didn’t bother her. She doubted it could hold a candle to the storm of protest U.S. Marine Justice Wilder would generate when he saw her.
It was fitting that Justice had holed up on a place called Pirate’s Cove. There had always been something of a renegade about him, something dangerous and sexy.
“Don’t worry about me,” Kelly said. It was something she said often. At twenty-eight, she’d grown into the kind of woman who could take care of whatever came her way, even a furious Marine. “I’ll be fine.”
She repeated the words to herself as she hauled the provisions she’d brought with her the short distance from the beach to the only house visible from the boat dock. There was a single light on inside. Kelly heard the first distant boom of thunder as she pounded on the door.
It was yanked open a moment later.
And there he was. Justice Wilder. Looking none too pleased to see her. And looking far better than a man in his condition should look. But a second glance showed the paleness of his face, the lines of pain around his mouth, the cuts and bruises on his muscular legs, the sling holding his right arm.
His dark hair tumbled over his forehead. It was longer than when she’d seen him last. He was wearing military-green boxers and a T-shirt emblazoned with the USMC logo. He’d barely been twenty that last time she’d seen him. He’d made her heart pound then, and he had the same effect now.
She drank in the sight of him. His lean cheeks, his tempting mouth, his tall ranginess. The teenager had grown into a man—a man who still had the power to go straight to her heart. It was amazing. Even after all this time, even under these conditions, she still felt a zing.
He apparently did not. His blue eyes were dark with fury as he glared at her. “What the Sam Hill are you doing here?”
Marines don’t swear, he’d once told her. Swearing shows a lack of discipline.
His words snapped her out of her reverie. Making the most of the Southern accent she’d acquired during her time in Nashville, Kelly drawled, “I heard you were having a pity party for yourself and I decided to come join you.”
Justice appeared taken aback by her blunt reply.
Good. She wanted to jar him out of whatever idiocy was preventing him from taking care of himself and his injuries properly. He had no right to make his poor mother so frantic with worry. Not to mention that he had no right to look so sexy that her knees were mushy.
“Do I know you?” he demanded.
Okay, so the guy hadn’t seen her since she was an awkward teenager, and even then he’d barely noticed her. She just somehow hadn’t prepared herself for the possibility that he wouldn’t recognize her.
Did she look that disheveled? Sure the cargo pants she wore were wrinkled from the trip, but the lime-green T-shirt she’d teamed with them usually looked fine on her. Her light-brown hair was gathered up into a braid to avoid being messed up by the increasing wind. She didn’t have the kind of memorable looks that her sister possessed. She didn’t even have her sister’s gorgeous blue eyes. Instead Kelly had brown eyes.
But then, she hadn’t come here looking to win any beauty contests. She’d come here to help Mrs. Wilder by helping her oldest and most stubborn son.
Kelly hadn’t seen Justice in years. She wouldn’t be coming to see him now were it not for the desperate phone call she’d received from his mother yesterday morning. She replayed the conversation in her head.
“Kelly, I need your help. I wouldn’t ask if there was any other way…” The older woman’s voice had cracked with emotion.
“You know I’ll help you any way I can,” Kelly had assured her. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Justice,” Mrs. Wilder replied. “He’s hurt. He saved a little boy in a car accident but was badly injured in the process. It happened near the Marine base here in North Carolina a week ago. After staying overnight, Justice checked himself out of the hospital first thing this morning. I couldn’t stop him. But I made him tell me where he’s going. To a friend’s beach house. I want you to talk him into getting the physical therapy he needs. And I’ll be honest with you, Kelly, that may mean giving it to him yourself. I know this is an awkward situation…” Mrs. Wilder’s voice trailed off. They never really referred to it—the divorce between Kelly’s older sister, Barbie, and Mrs. Wilder’s oldest son, Justice—as anything other than the “awkward situation.”
Some might find it strange that Kelly had developed such a close relationship with Mrs. Wilder, a relationship that continued even after Barbie had dumped Justice. But they didn’t know the facts, or the emotions.
Kelly had only been thirteen when her mom died in a train accident and her older sister married Justice right out of high school. Mrs. Wilder had been a godsend to Kelly at that time, taking the gangly Kelly under her wing and mothering her with love and support.
The marriage between Barbie and Justice had only lasted two years, but the close bonds between Mrs. Wilder and Kelly had continued on for a decade and had strengthened. Mrs. Wilder had helped Kelly pick out a high school prom dress, had listened to her worries about attending an out-of-state college, had encouraged her to follow her dream of becoming a physical therapist, had agreed the job opportunity in Nashville was too good to let pass.
Mrs. Wilder had been there for Kelly at a time when she’d really needed a motherly influence, and she’d continued to be there for her throughout the years. Kelly would walk through fire for her.
“I hate to ask you,” Mrs. Wilder had said unsteadily. “But I don’t know what else to do.”
Kelly had known what to do. The right thing, the only thing to do. Help Mrs. Wilder any way she could.
And so here she was. Coming to the rescue. The question was how to do that? Justice didn’t recognize her. Should she let him know who she was right away? Her relationship to Barbie was hardly likely to put her on the top of his guest list.
She was considering her options when something clicked and Justice’s gaze hardened.
“I’m Kelly,” she said, even though she could tell he’d already gathered that much. “Kelly Hart. Your mother sent me.”
Justice looked as if he didn’t believe a word she was saying. Meanwhile the thunder was rumbling closer and closer. “Why would my mother do that?”
“Because she knows I’m a physical therapist.” Kelly was not about to reveal the ongoing friendship she had with Mrs. Wilder to Justice yet. She doubted he’d understand.
“Go away. I don’t want you here,” Justice growled.
“I did rather get that impression,” she noted wryly.
“You can’t stay here.”
“I can’t leave,” she said with gentle cheerfulness, even as she nudged the door open and maneuvered her way around him, away from the huge raindrops that had started falling outside. “There’s a storm coming and besides, the nice fisherman who brought me over in his powerboat has left already.” Her huge tote bag hung from her shoulder and threatened to slip off as she lifted the box she’d brought. “Where do you want me to put these?”
“Where do I want you to…?” Justice repeated in disbelief. “As far away from me as possible. Antarctica would do fine.” His voice held a military curtness and a drill inspector loudness.
Kelly didn’t flinch but instead allowed his anger and his words to roll off her like water off a duck. “That voice isn’t going to work on me, so you might as well save your energy and your vocal cords. You’re not going to scare me away.”
“Don’t be so sure of that, little girl.”
Okay, so now his voice held a dangerous edge that did make her a tad nervous. But she couldn’t afford to let that show. And she also couldn’t afford to let him know how glad she was to see him.
She’d only been thirteen the last time she’d seen him. He’d been marrying her older sister at the time. He’d looked so tall and heroic to her young eyes. He’d adored Barbie and had from the moment he’d met her three years earlier in high school.
Justice and Barbie had gotten married right after graduation. Two years later they’d gotten divorced.
“Why are you here?” Justice demanded. “Haven’t you Hart women messed up my life enough already? Have you come to gloat or something? To kick a guy when he’s down, is that it?”
Kelly set the heavy box on a nearby table before turning to face him. “I came here to help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Outside, skeletal veins of lightning flashed and flowed like rivers of light while thunder boomed, rattling the floor-to-ceiling windows in the beach house. Impressive. But the storm didn’t hold a candle to the fire in Justice’s eyes.
There was something more to his anger, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something else reflected in his gaze. Was it bitterness or despair? It was there and gone as fast as a flash of lightning. Maybe she’d imagined that flare of emotion, but there was no way she was ignoring it. “I’m a physical therapist, Justice. I can help you.”
“I don’t need your help,” he repeated, his voice gritty, a muscle in his jaw clenching. “I don’t need it and I don’t want it.”
“I know that’s what you think right now, but you’ll change your mind.”
“That’s what your sister, Barbie, thought. That she’d change my mind about being a Marine. That she’d change my mind about playing Ken to her Barbie-doll life. It ain’t gonna happen,” Justice drawled.
Score one for the Marine. Kelly was stung by the comparison to her sister. She and Barbie had little in common. Her older sister liked being surrounded by adoring men and needed love and plenty of male attention to feel fulfilled. Barbie wasn’t a bad person, she just had different priorities from Kelly’s.
At the moment, Kelly’s priority was dealing with Justice.
She busied herself opening the box. “I brought food. I wasn’t sure how many provisions you had here, so I thought it was better to be safe than sorry.”
“If you really thought that, then you’d never have come here in the first place.”
“You’ve got me there,” Kelly admitted with a grin. “So I don’t always play it safe, I admit it. Ah, I see the kitchen.” She made a beeline for it, bringing the box of food with her and leaving Justice to follow her.
She surreptitiously noted his awkward movement. He was still limping, but his mother had told Kelly that the doctors said that was due to the serious bruising and cuts on his leg. He also suffered a slight concussion. But it was his right arm and shoulder that were the real problem.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the increasing thunder, in addition to the banging of pots and pans as she searched for what she wanted.
“Making dinner,” Kelly replied. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t eaten since I had a burger along the interstate down from Nashville.”
Justice was tempted to ask her what she was doing in Nashville, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of showing any curiosity about her.
His ex-wife’s little sister had certainly grown up. She was wearing baggy cargo pants with flowers on the knees and a lime-green cropped T-shirt that showed the pale skin along the small of her back as she bent over to return the pile of pots to the cabinet. Her wavy, light-brown hair was gathered into a single braid held in place by some sort of flower twisty-thing. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry aside from a sensible watch and silly dangle earrings shaped like question marks.
Justice certainly had plenty of questions. “How did you know where I was?”
“Your mother told me,” Kelly replied. “She’s worried about you.”
“Why would my mother tell my ex-wife’s sister she was worried about me?”
“Ask her.”
“I’m asking you.”
“And I prefer that you ask her. You should call her, anyway, to let her know you’re okay.”
“She has no cause to be worried about me,” he said gruffly.
“Right,” she noted with a wry smile in his direction. “I can’t imagine why she was the teeniest bit concerned that her oldest son took off from the hospital against doctor’s orders to hide out on a practically deserted coastal island.”
“I am not hiding out,” he said in a gritty voice. “A Marine does not hide out.”
“Hey, fella, I’ll have you know that you’re not the first Marine I’ve treated,” she informed him before setting a saucepan on the stove and pouring in a batch of homemade soup from a plastic container she’d brought with her. “I know all about the Marine’s set of values. Honor, courage, commitment. Not stupidity, however. I saw no reference to stupidity.”
Justice couldn’t believe the way she’d barged into his domain and made herself at home. He was a member of the Marine Corps’ elite Force Recon, the best of the best. He could take out an enemy sniper before they knew what hit them.
Or he used to be able to do that. The docs had warned him that those days were gone now.
Justice couldn’t believe it—years of living on the edge, of making danger his friend, and he got hurt not on a mission but by driving in the States on a normal sunny day.
And now they hailed him as a hero. If they only knew….
The inner torment streaked through him, overshadowing the physical pain he’d been living with since the accident. Gritting his teeth, he battened down his emotions and blocked out the raw fear and guilty doubts that plagued him.
Lightning flashed overhead and thunder crashed a second later. Kelly didn’t even flinch as she added salt to the soup.
Her calmness irritated him even further.
His life was in a mess, and she was cooking soup.
Yeah, she might have grown up, but she was still as much a nuisance as ever. And he wasn’t about to let her into his life. No matter how good that darn soup was starting to smell.
First thing in the morning he would send her packing. But first he’d eat. He needed food to regain his strength, and there was no contest that what she was cooking had to be better than the stuff he’d been eating lately.
But she wasn’t staying. No way. He’d have her off-island on tomorrow’s every-other-day ferry to the mainland.
“So what’s the deal with you and my mother?” he demanded, carefully lowering himself into a straight-backed kitchen chair.
Kelly looked guilty. His eyes narrowed. Something was up here.
Kelly tried sidestepping the issue once again by repeating her earlier mantra. “Maybe you should ask her.”
“I’m asking you,” he said, grimacing as he removed the sling in order to use his right hand. He couldn’t afford to keep babying it. This was his shooting arm. He had to regain his mobility ASAP. Regardless of what the doctors said.
She placed a huge bowl of soup in front of him along with a few thick slices of what looked like homemade bread. “And I’m saying you should ask your mother. You have a cell phone with you, right? So you can call her and let her know you’re all right.”
“Why this sudden concern?”
“It’s not sudden,” she denied, putting her own bowl of soup on the table across from him.
“So you’ve been pining for me all these years?” he mocked, and was surprised by the flash of something in her eyes. Such big brown eyes for such a little thing. Well, maybe not such a little thing, he silently revised, remembering how the top of her head had brushed his chin as she’d slipped past him to get into the house.
“Yeah, I’ve been positively lovesick for years,” she mocked right back, even going so far as to bat her eyelashes at him with such outrageous excess that he would have smiled…if he’d been a smiling man. But he wasn’t.
He focused his attention on the soup. It was good. It wasn’t until he saw the satisfied grin on her face that he realized he’d just guzzled down his chow like a raw recruit at boot camp. He dropped his spoon so abruptly it clattered on the wooden table.
“Don’t get too comfy here,” he warned her. “You’re leaving first thing in the morning.”
His pronouncement was accentuated by a crack of thunder.
“Sounds like a doozy of a storm,” she noted a second before the lights flickered and went out. “Good thing I’m not afraid of the dark,” she calmly added. “How about you?”
“I’m a Marine. I live for the dark.”
That didn’t surprise Kelly. She’d sensed the darkness in him from the moment he’d opened the door. There was a new edge to him, a sharper dangerous edge that hadn’t been there before. Brought about by his years in the Marines or by his accident? Or a combination of both?
She could hear him breathing. There was something surprisingly sensual about being caught in the darkness with him, surrounded by velvety shadows illuminated by flashes of lightning. The harsh bursts of light captured the angles of his face, lending them new definition. It was the face of a man who wouldn’t step aside if trouble got in his way.
She reached for his empty bowl only to have her fingers collide with his. Heat shot through her, as powerful as a lightning strike. The storm outside dimmed as her senses shifted to the storm raging inside of her body. She could feel the excitement burning in her like a wild thing.
“There’s something I should warn you about this beach house,” Justice said, his voice silky soft. “There’s only one bed.”
Chapter Two
“Only one bed, huh?” Kelly frantically tried to hide the fact that her heart had just kicked into overdrive. She couldn’t afford to let Justice know that he was getting to her. That wouldn’t do at all.
For one thing, Justice clearly didn’t think of her that way. He viewed her as a nuisance. For another, she couldn’t get involved with him. He was a patient. Or about to become one. Not to mention that he was her sister’s ex-husband. A definite hornet’s nest there. Way too much baggage.
The lights came back on, and as they did, Kelly knew what she had to do. She had to be sensible here. She also had to keep her sense of humor. It had gotten her through in the past whenever things were tough.
With that in mind, she gave Justice a deliberately mocking look. “Well, I suppose I could arm wrestle you for the bed, but as it happens I brought a sleeping bag with me. And I noticed that your couch in the living room looked pretty comfy.”
“Comfy? Do not get comfy here,” Justice warned her. “You will not be staying.”
His irritated words rolled right off her back. She had her “sensible” coating on now, and nothing he could say should get to her now. The realization comforted her. So did the fact that her smile threw him as she patted his left, uninjured arm. “You know, it’s a good thing I’m not the sensitive kind or I’d be hurt by your eagerness to get rid of me. I know, however, what’s behind it.”
He gave her one of those aggravated looks men give women they don’t understand. “I’ll tell you what’s behind it, the fact that I want you out of here.”
“So you’ve said. We’ll talk about it in the morning, if you’d rather.” She started cleaning up after their meal, taking their dirty bowls to the kitchen sink and running the water.
“I’d rather you were gone.”
Thunder boomed one final time, rattling the windowpanes with its bass reverberations. Despite the rumblings, the storm was actually weakening. Just like Justice. He was rumbling like the thunder, but it was more bark than bite. “You’re starting to sound like a broken record, Justice.”
“I can’t figure out why you’d want to stay somewhere you’re not wanted.”
“Besides being a glutton for punishment, you mean?” She squirted dishwashing liquid into the sink. There was a dishwasher, but she felt the need to scrub. “I’ve already told you, your mother asked me to come check on you.”
“So now you’ve checked. I’m still alive.”
“Have you called her on your cell phone yet?”
“What are you, my keeper?” His voice was really irritated now.
She turned to face him directly as she issued her challenge. “I thought Marines didn’t need keepers.”
He automatically straightened. “We don’t.”
“Then act like it, and call your mother.”
Justice looked like he wanted to strangle her, before he pivoted and marched out of the room to what she presumed was the only bedroom. The fact that he didn’t slam the door but instead closed it with controlled precision didn’t fool her for one second. The man was furious with her.
Kelly paused in her nervous tidying to sink onto a nearby kitchen chair. Okay, so maybe Justice wasn’t weakening like the departing storm. Maybe she’d been a little overconfident thinking she had things under control.
Only one bed…
His words kept replaying in her mind as she quickly took stock of her surroundings. The living room she’d walked through had a gorgeous pine floor but little furniture aside from the neutral-colored couch. The kitchen was equally no-frill. There was no particular color scheme, the walls were white as was the woodwork. The bathroom was at the end of the hallway, right next to the bedroom with its one bed.
She could easily picture Justice on that bed, his lean fighter’s body tangled in satin sheets….
Rats. Only in the beach house for an hour and already she was having sexual fantasies about Justice. Not good.
Time to remind herself yet again why she was here. Because of Mrs. Wilder. Kelly would do anything for the older woman, including walking over fire. And it looked like dealing with Justice would come darn close to that fiery fate.
Kelly would manage. It’s what she did best. Her older sister, Barbie, looked gorgeous and Kelly…well, Kelly managed. Barbie brought men to their knees in adoration and Kelly managed not to care that she faded into the wallpaper whenever her sister was around.
“It’s a good thing you’re so smart,” their father had often told Kelly when she was growing up. “Because you’re not as beautiful as your sister, so you need something else to make things balance out.”
But things had never felt balanced to Kelly. Growing up, she’d often felt like a forgotten member of the family. Her mother, a beauty like Barbie, had referred to Kelly as her “foundling child” because she hadn’t inherited their blond-and-blue-eyed coloring and instead had taken after her father with brown hair and eyes.
When her mother died in an automobile accident, Kelly had been devastated. She’d despaired of ever being anything but the gangly, awkward thirteen-year-old she was, of ever showing her mother that she was her daughter and did belong.
And there was no depending on her sister during that time, because Barbie had spent every moment with Justice, accepting his marriage proposal only a few weeks after their mother’s death.
Justice and Barbie had been going together throughout high school, but even so, Kelly was surprised that Barbie had agreed to marry Justice. He’d already signed up to join the Marines after graduation. Barbie had told her that she was off to live an adventurous life.
Which left Kelly alone with her father, who tried unsuccessfully to hide how much he missed his wife and oldest daughter. He was proud of Kelly’s good grades and bragged about how smart she was, but he and Kelly never shared the special bond that he had with Barbie.
Mrs. Wilder had been a lifesaver during those difficult times, stepping into a maternal role with ease. Ever since then they’d continued to share a special bond, despite the divorce between Barbie and Justice.
Yes, Kelly would do anything for Mrs. Wilder. Even face a lion like Justice in his den.
She wondered if he knew that Barbie had recently gotten engaged to a wealthy Atlanta businessman? If so, did that knowledge contribute to his bad mood, to his coming to this island? He’d certainly still sounded bitter when he’d said, Haven’t you Hart women messed up my life enough already?
Kelly had anticipated that Justice might be angry at her sudden appearance, but she hadn’t expected her own response to him. Sure she’d had a teenage crush on him, but that had been ages ago. There hadn’t been any way for her to foresee the powerful physical effect he had on her now. And she’d only just arrived. There was bound to be more touching the more time she spent with him.
If she became his physical therapist, they’d be in close physical contact. She had to be prepared for that. But the one thing she wasn’t prepared to do was fall in love with Justice Wilder.
Justice was not having a good evening. He wasn’t getting any more information out of his mother than he’d gotten out of Kelly.
“You forget, Justice, I’ve been interrogated by the best—your father. You’re not going to get me to tell you anything I choose not to,” his mom told him. “It didn’t work when you were ten and trying to find out what I got you for your birthday and it’s not going to work now.”
“I’m injured, you shouldn’t be picking on me.”
“That’s right, you’re injured and you shouldn’t be giving me white hair by taking off from the hospital against doctor’s orders.”
So much for trying the sympathy routine. “I’m fine,” he said impatiently.
“We both know that’s not true.” His mother’s voice was quiet but firm. She’d never been one to take any guff. As the only female in a household of five men—her husband and four strapping sons—she couldn’t afford to be a pushover.
“So you sent little Kelly here to take care of me?”
“She’s good at what she does, Justice. Let her help you.”
“I don’t need any help.”
“You can always tell a Marine, but you can’t tell them much,” she muttered before growling, “Don’t be such an idiot.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom.”
“I mean it, Justice.” She was using her sternest voice. “You be nice to Kelly. I sent her there. It wasn’t her idea to go.”
“I’m a grown man, I don’t need my mother sending anyone to help me. I’ve faced plenty of danger on my own.”
“I know that,” she said quietly. “And I know the nickname you earned in your squad because of it. Invincible. Able to do the impossible. It’s almost as if you were tempting the fates to do something to you. If there was a dangerous mission, you were on it.”
“It’s what I do.” Or what he used to do. Who knew what his future held now? He glared down at his injured shoulder and tried to ball his right hand into a fist and raise his arm. It was a pitiful effort.
“And worrying about you and taking care of you is what I do,” his mother countered. “I’ve let you do your job all these years, now let me do mine. Just give physical therapy a try with Kelly and see how things turn out.”
“I don’t want her here.”
“You can’t throw her out.” His mother sounded panicked, which made him feel guilty.
“I won’t throw her out,” he said gruffly. “It’s storming outside.” Lightning flashed again. “I wouldn’t turn a dog out in this kind of weather.”
“How kind of you to liken Kelly to a dog,” she noted wryly.
“Okay, so I don’t have my brother’s charming ways with women,” Justice retorted.
“I’m not asking you to be charming, just to be nice. Think you can do that? I’m only nagging you because I love you.”
His throat suddenly clenched. “I know that. Listen, I’ve got to go, Mom. I only called you to let you know I’m okay.”
He quickly ended the call and tossed his cell phone onto the night table. He’d lied to his mom. He wouldn’t be okay until he’d recovered. He was Invincible once. He needed to be Invincible again. Or die trying.
“My mom told me to be nice to you,” Justice drawled a few minutes later as he watched Kelly wipe down the stove.
“And you told her you’ve been the perfect host, right?” she drawled right back.
“I told her I wouldn’t toss you out on your keister in a storm.” A boom of thunder crashed as if to emphasize his statement. Noting her startled jump, he said, “Are you afraid?”
She tossed the sponge back into the sink before turning to face him again. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no, I’m not afraid of storms. Actually I think they’re kind of neat. And pretty amazing. Did you know that lightning bolts are rarely thicker than a common pencil?”
“You’re just a fountain of information, aren’t you?”
“I’m a smart woman.”
“Not smart enough to stay away from me.”
She sighed. “What is it going to take to convince you that I can help you?”
“A miracle?”
“How about a game of poker?”
He narrowed his blue eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”
“If I beat you, then you’ll stop being such a baby about my being your physical therapist.”
Justice stared at her in amazement. Did she have any idea who she was speaking to here? He was a member of the Marine Corps’ most elite Force Recon. He knew twenty ways to disable an enemy in the blink of an eye. He’d used deadly force. And she was calling him a baby and challenging him to a poker game? She clearly wasn’t as smart as she claimed to be.
“What happens when I win?” he countered.
“Then I’ll leave on the next ferry.”
He found that hard to believe. Not when she’d been so adamant about staying. She didn’t appear to be the type to give up easily if at all. Stubborn. Just like his ex-wife. Definitely another troublemaking Hart woman—the last thing he needed in his life. “What’s the catch?” he demanded.
“No catch. I happen to have a deck of cards with me.”
“I’m sure you do.” He didn’t trust her for one minute. The woman was up to something. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to let her get away with it. “And I’m sure you won’t mind if I examine them first.”
“Afraid I’m going to cheat the big bad Marine?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if you tried. After all, you are Barbie’s sister.”
“I’m nothing like my sister.”
“No, you’re not, are you.”
His comment stung for some reason. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, as if dismissing her.
Okay, so she wasn’t gorgeous like Barbie. That didn’t mean she didn’t have other redeeming characteristics.
Like being smart? an inner voice mocked.
Like being strong, she silently countered. And making the most of what she had. And being independent. Unlike Barbie, she didn’t need outside reinforcement to feel complete. She didn’t need constant reassurance and male adoration.
Kelly narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a don’t-mess-with-me look. “No, I’m not my sister. I’m something even better.”
“Really. And what’s that?”
“A woman not to be trifled with.”
He raised one dark eyebrow. “Trifled with, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You do that.” She walked over to her backpack and reached into an outside pocket. “Here are the cards.” She handed them to him. “Check them out. Then prepare for a trouncing.”
“First trifle now trouncing.” His voice was mocking.
So was hers. “What’s wrong, is my vocabulary too big for you?”
“I’ll try and keep up.”
“I hope it isn’t too much of a strain for you.”
“I think I can handle it.” And you. The look he gave her made that much clear.
She’d forgotten how blue his eyes were. It was like being bathed in the deep ocean, his gaze washing over her.
“We’ll have to see,” she replied, backing away from him…and temptation.
“Want me to deal?”
“No, I’ll deal. I feel it only fair to warn you that when I play cards with my nursing buddies, I often end up winning.”
“I’m shaking in my boots.”
Actually he was barefoot. He had nicely formed feet leading up to muscular calves and thighs. Don’t go there, she sternly warned herself, tearing her gaze away.
“I feel it only fair to warn you that when I play cards with my Force Recon buddies, I always win,” Justice said.
“Then we’ve both been warned.” She sat down at the table where they’d recently eaten and waited patiently for Justice to join her before adding, “May the best woman win.”
Kelly didn’t feel one iota of guilt for not informing him of the summer she spent working at an Atlantic City casino and learning card tricks from a seventy-year-old gentleman gambler named Diamond Mick. She deliberately dealt the cards a tad awkwardly, not like a complete novice but not like one confident of winning. She didn’t want to overplay her hand here. Let Justice think she was a bit nervous.
The truth was she never cheated when playing gin rummy with her nursing buddies. But poker was another thing. She rarely got the chance to practice what Diamond Mick had taught her, other than practicing in front of a mirror to make sure she hadn’t lost her touch.
They only played one hand. As it turned out she didn’t have to cheat, she was dealt a fantastic set.
The problem was that Justice looked equally thrilled with whatever he had. What if he cheated?
She’d have to count on a Marine’s code of honor preventing him from doing that. Maybe his confidence was his way of trying to bluff her into folding. That wasn’t going to happen.
She called his bet. Justice set down his cards, spreading them out with a confident grin. “Read ’em and weep. Four of a kind.”
“Very impressive. But I believe a straight flush beats four of a kind every time.” And she set down her own cards.
“I don’t believe this.”
“I didn’t cheat.”
“I know you didn’t, I was watching you like a hawk.”
Kelly was relieved that she hadn’t had to practice her card trick skills after all. She’d forgotten that as a Force Recon Marine, Justice had unusually acute powers of observation.
“So we’re agreed. I stay on as your physical therapist. Good.” Kelly didn’t even wait for him to reply. “That’s all settled, then. Well, it’s getting late and I’ve had a full day. I think I’ll turn in.”
“Go right ahead.” His look dared her to get ready for bed in front of him.
She had no such qualms. Once her sleeping bag was comfortably arranged on the couch, she tugged on a huge sleepshirt over her head and upper torso. Under cover of the thick cotton material she expertly wiggled and maneuvered her T-shirt and bra right off, tugging them out the armhole and into her backpack in one deft operation.
Justice appeared stunned by her behavior. Good. She liked to keep him on his toes. She was not about to retreat into the bathroom to get ready for bed like some shy miss. She could adopt as much of a don’t-mess-with-me stance as any Marine. It was all about attitude with a capital A.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” Justice asked.
“My co-ed college dorm. Were you suitably impressed?”
“Were you trying to impress me?”
She shook her head.
“Good.” His voice was curt. “Because I don’t need you going all goofy over me like you did as a teenager.”
Kelly wanted to disappear into the floorboards. She hadn’t realized he’d noticed her crush. He’d never said anything at the time. Probably because he’d been too nice. He wasn’t nice any longer. That much was clear.
She couldn’t let him know he’d bothered her. Tucking her “sensible” facade around her once more, she managed a brilliant smile. “Jeez, Justice, that was ages ago. Get over yourself, would you? The bottom line is that you can relax because overbearing Marines aren’t my type,” she assured him. “I promise not to go all goofy over you. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”
The question was, would she be safe with him?
Chapter Three
The kiss was divine. A warm masculine mouth tenderly parted her lips. Hands slipped over her willing body, caressing her with skill and passion. The moment had come. The waiting was over. This was it…
“Rise and shine!” a voice boomed over Kelly’s head.
Startled, she jerked awake and almost ended up rolling right off the couch in her sleeping bag.
“Hold on there.” Justice grabbed her with his good hand.
She’d been dreaming. Blinking rapidly, Kelly tried to take stock of her surroundings. But her immediate attention was focused on Justice.
He’d caught her, preventing her fall with his body. He was so close to her she could feel the warmth of his lean body, could almost hear his heartbeat. She could certainly feel her own heart beating wildly.
She could also feel every one of his fingers. He wasn’t holding her that tightly. She was just super-sensitized to his touch, deliciously rough against her soft skin. He had calluses. He smelled of soap and shaving cream. She was wildly tempted to sniff his cheek, to lean closer and fall into his incredibly blue eyes….
“Hey,” he said gruffly, “I thought you promised that you weren’t going to throw yourself at my feet.”
A bucket of cold water couldn’t have snapped her out of her momentary reverie faster. “I’d like to throw something, all right,” she muttered, shifting away from him on the couch. “And not at your feet. At your head. What time is it?”
“O-five hundred.”
“Five in the morning?” She hadn’t gotten to sleep until after one, tossing and turning on the couch. And that dream she was having was just getting really good. Not that she’d been dreaming about Justice. She hadn’t. She was sure that the man in her dreams bore a striking resemblance to the sexy actor Dylan McDermott. That was her story and she was sticking to it.
“Affirmative. Time to rise and shine and get this physical therapy thing going,” Justice stated. “The faster we get started, the faster we’ll be done, and then you can go your way and I can return to my tour of duty.”
“First I need to see your medical records.”
“I’ve got them here.” Using his left hand, he waved them in front of her sleepy face. “Had them faxed from the mainland.”
“Fine. I’ll read them.” She barely stifled a yawn. “But first I need coffee and a shower, in that order.”
“Go ahead, but be fast about it. No dawdling for an hour in the bathroom trying to make yourself beautiful.”
“I could stay in the bathroom for a week and I still wouldn’t be beautiful,” she wryly retorted. “I told you, I’m not my sister.”
“So I’m learning.”
“Oh, so you are capable of learning? That’s an encouraging sign.”
“You sure are a feisty little thing, aren’t you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh puhlease! For one thing, I’m not little. I’m five foot seven in my bare feet. For another I’m not feisty.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Yes, but then you’re a Marine, easy to fool.”
“You’re just saying that to get to me,” Justice calmly replied. “See? I am learning.”
“Yes, you are. And you’re blocking my way to my morning caffeine so move, or face my wrath.”
“Wrath, huh? Is that anything like trifling with a trouncing?”
“No, it’s much worse. Now move.”
“Not a morning person, are we?” At her fiery look, he backed up. “Okay, okay, I’m moving.”
Still bleary-eyed, she headed for the kitchen and the thermos of coffee she’d left there last night. Cold coffee was better than no coffee. It was actually still a little warm, and she felt the caffeine hit her system as she grabbed clean clothes from her backpack on her way to the bathroom.
A shower helped restore her. She dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Her hair was still damp as she returned to the kitchen to confront Justice.
Only now did she notice the shirt he was wearing, which was one of those brilliant multicolored Hawaiian designs. How could she have missed that before? “Nice shirt,” she noted.
“It’s not mine,” he growled. “My buddy Striker owns this beach house and a collection of gaudy Hawaiian shirts.”
Judging from Justice’s disgusted expression, she figured he hadn’t chosen to borrow his friend’s clothes out of a desire to make a fashion statement. No doubt his injury made getting in and out of a button-down shirt easier than a T-shirt like he’d been wearing last night. And no doubt Justice hadn’t brought any shirts of his own, or he’d be wearing them and not this tropical number. He hadn’t done up all the buttons, leaving a sexy amount of his chest bare.
Time to change the subject, she decided. “So what’s for breakfast?”
“Toasted physical therapists,” he drawled.
Kelly cracked up. “I don’t believe it. The brooding Justice Wilder actually made a joke. This has got to be a first.”
“Who said it was a joke?”
“I’m tougher than I look. You don’t want to dine on me, believe me.” She opened the fridge and pulled out the fresh eggs in the box of provisions she’d brought with her yesterday. “How do scrambled eggs sound?”
His growling stomach was answer enough. Hers quickly followed suit. “Okay.” She reached for a frying pan. “A big rasher of scrambled eggs coming right up.”
Justice surreptitiously watched her as she moved around the kitchen with a speedy efficiency. She was into multitasking—beating the eggs with a fork in one hand while she popped pieces of bread into the toaster with the other. She seemed to have recovered from her earlier grouchiness.
Today she was wearing a pair of khaki walking shorts and a plain pink T-shirt. The sandals she wore displayed her feet and the neon pink nail polish on her toenails. Her question mark earrings once again dangled in her ears. Her damp hair was gathered up in one of those plastic clip things to keep it out of her way. She didn’t look particularly gorgeous but he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her.
Maybe it was her can-do attitude, or her off-key humming of a Faith Hill country song. She wasn’t her sister. She hadn’t spent a lot of time in the bathroom messing with makeup. In fact, he doubted she was wearing any. But as she passed by his seat at the small dining table, he noted that she smelled really good. Not all perfumy, but fresh and sexy.
Sexy? Dismiss that thought. This was his ex-wife’s baby sister here. Okay, so she was only five years younger than Barbie, which also made her five years younger than he was. Not a big deal. Age wasn’t the issue here. Family connections were.
She was here for one purpose, or so she said. To increase his chances of recovering the full use of his right arm. His shooting arm. He’d been one of the best sharpshooters Force Recon had ever seen. And now he sat here barely able to pick up a damn cup of coffee.
“What makes you think you can do anything to help me recover the mobility in my arm?” he abruptly demanded.
“The fact that I’m good at what I do. But I need to review your medical records before I can tell you anything definite, read the doctor’s orders for your treatment.”
“It’s all right here.” He impatiently shoved the file across the table, wanting those incriminating papers away from him. He already knew what they said by heart. Prognosis: unknown. Critical ligament damage…full recovery of mobility unlikely.
Well, Justice had dealt with “unlikely” and “unknown” before. More times than he could count, in fact. It had been unlikely that he would survive that last mission in a certain Middle Eastern country rumored to harbor terrorists.
But he had survived. Only to come back to the States to get injured.
“I forgot to ask you last night, how does it feel to be hailed a hero for rescuing that little boy from that burning car?” She placed a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs in front of him.
“It stinks.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad a cook,” she protested. “So I overcooked the eggs a little.”
“I meant that stupid hero thing. It’s not true.”
“It’s not true that you rescued a toddler from the back seat of a burning car after you witnessed a car accident near Camp Lejeune?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Justice growled.
“Fine.” She shrugged and sat down across from him, digging into her own breakfast. “We can discuss something else. Like how much you love my gourmet cooking.”
“The eggs are good,” he grudgingly admitted.
“Oh, my! I do declare that such flowery praise will surely go to my head.” She dramatically placed the back of her hand across her forehead in the manner of a swooning Southern miss.
Instead of acknowledging her mocking comment, he said, “How long will it take you to review my medical records?”
“Not long. I’m a fast reader.”
“Good. Because I want to get started on this op as soon as possible.”
“Op?”
“This operation, this mission.”
“I see. So you’re considering your recovery as you would any mission assigned to you? That’s a good thing, I suppose.”
“A Marine never fails.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“If you’re referring to my failed marriage to your sister—”
“I wasn’t,” she quickly interrupted him. “I meant that no one can guarantee a 100 percent success rate at anything.”
“No excuses, no exceptions.”
“Seems like a pretty tough philosophy to maintain.”
“The Marine Corps is supposed to be tough. It’s not a place for wimps.”
“Yeah, physical therapy is like that. Not a place for wimps. Oh, I almost forgot…” She returned to the counter to hand him the special concoction she’d mixed up in the blender. It did not escape his notice that she’d only poured one glass, not two. One glass, just for him. “Here, drink this.”
He grabbed her wrist. “What did you put in here?”
Startled, she tried to pull away.
“Answer me. What did you put in here?”
“Wheat germ, a banana, some strawberries, orange juice, a little vitamin B.”
“And what else?”
“Nothing else.”
“Do you swear on my mother’s life?”
His expression made her shiver. “Yes.”
He abruptly released her wrist.
“Why?” Her voice was husky with emotion. “What did you think I’d put in there?”
“My pain medication.”
She stared at him in amazement. “You thought I was trying to drug you against your will?”
“That thought did cross my mind, yes.”
“You clearly have a suspicious mind.”
“It’s kept me alive more times than I can count.”
“We’re not in a battle zone here.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s an ingrained part of my training, thinking of scenarios and outcomes, thinking of everything as a weapon, even this fork.” He used the utensil to eat the last bite of scrambled eggs. “You call it being suspicious, I call it being alert, never letting down my defenses.”
She realized then how deep his distrust truly ran—not just of her but of everyone and everything around him.
“If I gave you my word that I won’t drug you, that it’s completely unethical for me to do so, would that make you feel better? If I swore on your mother’s life, as you put it, would that make you feel better?”
“The only thing that will make me feel better is regaining complete mobility of my arm and rejoining my squadron. Anything less than that is unacceptable.”
Kelly had worked with patients before who’d been unable to accept their injuries and the limitations that had subsequently been placed on them. Inevitably it made their recoveries slower. But there was no speeding up the acceptance process. Each individual had to get there at their own rate, in their own time, in their own way. She had a feeling that Justice’s way would be the hard way. He wasn’t a man to take the easy route.
She didn’t even realize that she was absently rubbing her wrist until he spoke.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t trust me,” she replied. “That’s bound to make this process more difficult.”
“I told you, I don’t trust anyone.”
“Not even your own family?”
“Of course I trust them.”
“Then trust that your mother knew what she was doing when she sent me to you.”
“I trust her, not her judgment about everything.”
“Oh, so you think I conned your mother into sending me here?” Kelly asked mockingly. “Sure, I can understand that. After all, she’s such a gullible lady. Very naive. Easy to fool. Nothing to pull the wool over her eyes. An easy mark. A real bubblehead.”
“Hey, nobody calls my mom a bubblehead,” Justice growled.
“My point exactly. She’s one of the sharpest women I’ve ever met.”
“Okay, okay, so my mother is not easily fooled. Point taken.”
“I hope so. I’d rather not have this conversation every time I offer you a drink. Think of all the energy you’re expending on that distrust.”
“It’s not wasted energy.”
“Yes, it is. That mind-set may be useful during one of your covert special ops, as you called them, but you don’t need that kind of defense mechanism in this situation. You’re safe here.”
Didn’t she understand that he wasn’t safe anywhere? He’d let down his guard when he’d rushed in to save that toddler, and look where it had gotten him. If he’d been more alert, he might have fallen differently. He’d been trained to drop and roll and had avoided injury so many times in the past. It was one of the reasons he’d gotten his nickname.
No, he definitely was not safe, not from the nightmares about the car bursting into flames, not about the doubts that he refused to even acknowledge.
He had no room in his life for such things.
Kelly claimed she could help him, fine. Here was her chance to prove it. He’d always been a man who believed more in actions than in words.
That didn’t mean he trusted Kelly, or her motives. Bottom line was that she was still his ex-wife’s sister and his divorce had not exactly been an amicable one. Kelly might still have some sort of hidden agenda for coming here. Which meant he’d have one, too.
Point, counterpoint, strike, counterstrike. It’s what he did, how he thought. Trust was not a requirement for getting the use of his arm back.
“You’d better start reviewing my medical report so we can get this op under way.” He impatiently waited while she read through the file. “Well? What’s the plan? You do have a plan, right?”
“Give me a minute here.”
“Because planning plays as important a role in the preparation of battle as in the conduct of battle.”
“Which is all very well and good but we’re not talking about a battle here.”
“Yes, we are. I’m not stupid enough to think otherwise. It’s going to be a battle to get my strength back.”
“There’s no guarantee your arm will recover fully, but you have a much better chance of increasing your range of mobility with physical therapy and time.”
“I don’t have much time and I’m not interested in merely increasing my range of mobility. I want my arm back the way it was before.”
“I can’t guarantee that will happen, Justice,” she said quietly.
“No excuses, no exceptions.”
“And no false promises of a miracle cure. We can just take this one step at a time and see how things progress. Deal?”
She held out her hand.
He reluctantly took it in his. His fingers were warm against her skin as he gingerly wrapped them around her hand. Even something as simple as a handshake proved difficult. Gritting his teeth, he silently railed against his own weakness.
“Don’t push yourself to do too much too soon, that will do more damage than good,” she warned him.
“Have you always been this bossy?”
“No, I think I’ve become bossier with age and now I’m getting pretty darn good at it. Which is a good thing considering that you’re used to drill instructors screaming orders at you. But don’t worry, I’ll try not to be too hard on you. No marching orders, none of that ‘right face’ or ‘forward march’ stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Not the appropriate military terminology? Sorry about that. Medical terminology is more my thing. For example, antibodies. Everyone knows that antibodies are against everyone. And that an enema is not a friend. Hey, was that a smile I saw there, soldier?”
“I’m a Marine, not a soldier.”
“Sorry, I’ll repeat the question. Was that a smile I saw there, Mr. Big Bad Marine?”
“It was gas.”
“Listen, buddy, any more jabs at my cooking and you’ll be pulling kitchen duty. And don’t even think about calling me a feisty little thing again.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
“I’m still waiting to hear your plan.”
“Okay, then. Here it is. We start out nice and easy…” Kelly began when he immediately interrupted her.
“I don’t like that plan.”
She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Maybe this should be the part where I point out that I’m the one with the training and you’re the one who is supposed to be heeding my advice.”
“I don’t do nice and easy,” Justice informed her.
She was not impressed. “Then it’s about time you learned. Just pretend you’re back in boot camp.”
Now he looked insulted. “There’s nothing nice or easy about boot camp. It’s twelve weeks of grueling and exhausting work meant to separate the cream of the crop from the rest.”
“You didn’t let me finish. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, just pretend you’re back in boot camp, only this time instead of your goal being to become a Marine, your goal is to increase your mobility. You’re very lucky that overall you’re in such good physical shape.”
“Lucky?”
She noted the bitterness in his voice. “Yes, lucky. I’ve dealt with patients who have terminal illnesses, patients who have been paralyzed by car accidents. Compared to them, you’re sitting pretty.”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here.” His curt words were like bullets. “I’m a member of the Marine Corps’ most elite force, which means I have to be at the top of my game. I have to pass stringent physical exams to return to my squad. These are men who can drop and do a few hundred one-handed push-ups without even breaking a sweat. My injury may seem measly to you…”
“It’s not measly, Justice. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. The bruising and lacerations on your legs will heal with time. And your concussion was slight, although you should have rested and not been traveling out here. But the damage to your shoulder is very serious indeed. I wasn’t trying to belittle your injury or the effect it’s had on your life. I’m just saying that in the whole spectrum of things, it could have been much worse. You could have been paralyzed or killed when that car exploded.”
Justice didn’t tell her how he felt, that he might as well have been killed if his future as a member of Force Recon was gone. She wouldn’t understand, she couldn’t know how much who he was involved what he did. The definition of invincible was “incapable of being overcome or defeated.” That was no longer true. Which left Justice feeling incapable, period.
“I realize that a brush with death makes most people question things in their lives…” Kelly began when he interrupted her again.
“Marines aren’t most people. And this certainly wasn’t the first time I’ve had a brush with death.”
His words chilled her. She’d known his work as a Marine meant he was exposed to danger, but she’d somehow never considered the fact that he might actually die serving his country.
She had to take a sip of freshly brewed coffee before going on. She steadied her trembling fingers by wrapping them around her coffee mug. “Why do you do it? Why do you put your life at risk?”
“Because my country needs me. It’s what I do and what I’m good at doing.”
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Cathie Linz
OPERATION: HEAL A HEROSubject: Justice Wilder, a true American hero. Badly injured while saving a small child's life–and possibly facing the end of his military career.Mission: Track down this stubborn, combat-hardened Marine on the isolated island where he's shut himself away. Convince him to accept someone else's help–for the first time in his life.Complication: Kelly Hart's skill as a physical therapist would heal his wounds. But what happens when he discovers she used to love him–and she realizes she still does?Mission Success: Uncertain. When a man and a woman share a tiny little cabin–and a whole lot of history–anything can happen!
What was she doing kissing Justice Wilder, letting him kiss her?
This was exactly what she had to avoid.
She’d started this, and she had to end it, before she melted into his arms and things got completely out of control.
In the end, they both pulled back at the same moment.
Kelly pressed trembling fingers to her lips, as if to keep the memory of his kiss there forever.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure quite what it was she was apologizing for.
“Forget it,” Justice said, his voice as curt and unemotional as ever. “It won’t happen again.”
But Kelly knew she’d never forget that kiss, not if she lived to be a hundred and fifty years old….
Dear Reader,
Summer is over and it’s time to kick back into high gear. Just be sure to treat yourself with a luxuriant read or two (or, hey, all six) from Silhouette Romance. Remember—work hard, play harder!
Although October is officially Breast Cancer Awareness month, we’d like to invite you to start thinking about it now. In a wonderful, uplifting story, a rancher reluctantly agrees to model for a charity calendar to earn money for cancer research. At the back of that book, we’ve also included a guide for self-exams. Don’t miss Cara Colter’s must-read 9 Out of 10 Women Can’t Be Wrong (#1615).
Indulge yourself with megapopular author Karen Rose Smith and her CROWN AND GLORY series installment, Searching for Her Prince (#1612). A missing heir puts love on the line when he hides his identity from the woman assigned to track him down. The royal, brooding hero in Sandra Paul’s stormy Caught by Surprise (#1614), the latest in the A TALE OF THE SEA adventure, also has secrets—and intends to make his beautiful captor pay…by making her his wife!
Jesse Colton is a special agent forced to play pretend boyfriend to uncover dangerous truths in the fourth of THE COLTONS: COMANCHE BLOOD spinoff, The Raven’s Assignment (#1613), by bestselling author Kasey Michaels. And in Cathie Linz’s MEN OF HONOR title, Married to a Marine (#1616), combat-hardened Justice Wilder had shut himself away from the world—until his ex-wife’s younger sister comes knocking…. Finally, in Laurey Bright’s tender and true Life with Riley (#1617), free-spirited Riley Morrisset may not be the perfect society wife, but she’s exactly what her stiff-collared boss needs!
Happy reading—and please keep in touch.
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
Married to a Marine
Cathie Linz
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Julie Murphy, P.T., for answering my questions about physical therapists, and to Cleo Pappas from the Lisle Public Library. This book is dedicated to the families of the men and women in our armed forces.
Books by Cathie Linz
Silhouette Romance
One of a Kind Marriage #1032
* (#litres_trial_promo)Daddy in Dress Blues #1470
* (#litres_trial_promo)Stranded with the Sergeant #1534
* (#litres_trial_promo)The Marine & the Princess #1561
A Prince at Last! #1594
* (#litres_trial_promo)Married to a Marine #1616
Silhouette Books
Montana Mavericks
“Baby Wanted”
Silhouette Desire
Change of Heart #408
A Friend in Need #443
As Good as Gold #484
Adam’s Way #519
Smiles #575
Handyman #616
Smooth Sailing #665
Flirting with Trouble #722
Male Ordered Bride #761
Escapades #804
Midnight Ice #846
Bridal Blues #894
A Wife in Time #958
† (#litres_trial_promo)Michael’s Baby #1023
† (#litres_trial_promo)Seducing Hunter #1029
† (#litres_trial_promo)Abbie and the Cowboy #1036
Husband Needed #1098
CATHIE LINZ
left her career in a university law library to become a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary romances. She is the recipient of the highly coveted Storyteller of the Year Award given by Romantic Times and was recently nominated for a Love and Laughter Career Achievement Award for the delightful humor in her books.
Although Cathie loves to travel, she is always glad to get back home to her family, her various cats, her trusty computer and her hidden cache of Oreo cookies!
Contents
Chapter One (#ua6a538a4-432d-5fc1-8bbd-f9094e2ae447)
Chapter Two (#u2c81fa36-14ec-5a95-ac7e-ed3b9c9033c1)
Chapter Three (#u4e646900-c1dd-5bba-b3d0-147c94444789)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Lightning flashed against the distant night sky and reflected on the dark water. “You sure you’re expected?”
Kelly Hart nodded at the fisherman she’d hired to take her from the small North Carolina coastal town out to the island known as Pirate’s Cove. The impending thunderstorm didn’t bother her. She doubted it could hold a candle to the storm of protest U.S. Marine Justice Wilder would generate when he saw her.
It was fitting that Justice had holed up on a place called Pirate’s Cove. There had always been something of a renegade about him, something dangerous and sexy.
“Don’t worry about me,” Kelly said. It was something she said often. At twenty-eight, she’d grown into the kind of woman who could take care of whatever came her way, even a furious Marine. “I’ll be fine.”
She repeated the words to herself as she hauled the provisions she’d brought with her the short distance from the beach to the only house visible from the boat dock. There was a single light on inside. Kelly heard the first distant boom of thunder as she pounded on the door.
It was yanked open a moment later.
And there he was. Justice Wilder. Looking none too pleased to see her. And looking far better than a man in his condition should look. But a second glance showed the paleness of his face, the lines of pain around his mouth, the cuts and bruises on his muscular legs, the sling holding his right arm.
His dark hair tumbled over his forehead. It was longer than when she’d seen him last. He was wearing military-green boxers and a T-shirt emblazoned with the USMC logo. He’d barely been twenty that last time she’d seen him. He’d made her heart pound then, and he had the same effect now.
She drank in the sight of him. His lean cheeks, his tempting mouth, his tall ranginess. The teenager had grown into a man—a man who still had the power to go straight to her heart. It was amazing. Even after all this time, even under these conditions, she still felt a zing.
He apparently did not. His blue eyes were dark with fury as he glared at her. “What the Sam Hill are you doing here?”
Marines don’t swear, he’d once told her. Swearing shows a lack of discipline.
His words snapped her out of her reverie. Making the most of the Southern accent she’d acquired during her time in Nashville, Kelly drawled, “I heard you were having a pity party for yourself and I decided to come join you.”
Justice appeared taken aback by her blunt reply.
Good. She wanted to jar him out of whatever idiocy was preventing him from taking care of himself and his injuries properly. He had no right to make his poor mother so frantic with worry. Not to mention that he had no right to look so sexy that her knees were mushy.
“Do I know you?” he demanded.
Okay, so the guy hadn’t seen her since she was an awkward teenager, and even then he’d barely noticed her. She just somehow hadn’t prepared herself for the possibility that he wouldn’t recognize her.
Did she look that disheveled? Sure the cargo pants she wore were wrinkled from the trip, but the lime-green T-shirt she’d teamed with them usually looked fine on her. Her light-brown hair was gathered up into a braid to avoid being messed up by the increasing wind. She didn’t have the kind of memorable looks that her sister possessed. She didn’t even have her sister’s gorgeous blue eyes. Instead Kelly had brown eyes.
But then, she hadn’t come here looking to win any beauty contests. She’d come here to help Mrs. Wilder by helping her oldest and most stubborn son.
Kelly hadn’t seen Justice in years. She wouldn’t be coming to see him now were it not for the desperate phone call she’d received from his mother yesterday morning. She replayed the conversation in her head.
“Kelly, I need your help. I wouldn’t ask if there was any other way…” The older woman’s voice had cracked with emotion.
“You know I’ll help you any way I can,” Kelly had assured her. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Justice,” Mrs. Wilder replied. “He’s hurt. He saved a little boy in a car accident but was badly injured in the process. It happened near the Marine base here in North Carolina a week ago. After staying overnight, Justice checked himself out of the hospital first thing this morning. I couldn’t stop him. But I made him tell me where he’s going. To a friend’s beach house. I want you to talk him into getting the physical therapy he needs. And I’ll be honest with you, Kelly, that may mean giving it to him yourself. I know this is an awkward situation…” Mrs. Wilder’s voice trailed off. They never really referred to it—the divorce between Kelly’s older sister, Barbie, and Mrs. Wilder’s oldest son, Justice—as anything other than the “awkward situation.”
Some might find it strange that Kelly had developed such a close relationship with Mrs. Wilder, a relationship that continued even after Barbie had dumped Justice. But they didn’t know the facts, or the emotions.
Kelly had only been thirteen when her mom died in a train accident and her older sister married Justice right out of high school. Mrs. Wilder had been a godsend to Kelly at that time, taking the gangly Kelly under her wing and mothering her with love and support.
The marriage between Barbie and Justice had only lasted two years, but the close bonds between Mrs. Wilder and Kelly had continued on for a decade and had strengthened. Mrs. Wilder had helped Kelly pick out a high school prom dress, had listened to her worries about attending an out-of-state college, had encouraged her to follow her dream of becoming a physical therapist, had agreed the job opportunity in Nashville was too good to let pass.
Mrs. Wilder had been there for Kelly at a time when she’d really needed a motherly influence, and she’d continued to be there for her throughout the years. Kelly would walk through fire for her.
“I hate to ask you,” Mrs. Wilder had said unsteadily. “But I don’t know what else to do.”
Kelly had known what to do. The right thing, the only thing to do. Help Mrs. Wilder any way she could.
And so here she was. Coming to the rescue. The question was how to do that? Justice didn’t recognize her. Should she let him know who she was right away? Her relationship to Barbie was hardly likely to put her on the top of his guest list.
She was considering her options when something clicked and Justice’s gaze hardened.
“I’m Kelly,” she said, even though she could tell he’d already gathered that much. “Kelly Hart. Your mother sent me.”
Justice looked as if he didn’t believe a word she was saying. Meanwhile the thunder was rumbling closer and closer. “Why would my mother do that?”
“Because she knows I’m a physical therapist.” Kelly was not about to reveal the ongoing friendship she had with Mrs. Wilder to Justice yet. She doubted he’d understand.
“Go away. I don’t want you here,” Justice growled.
“I did rather get that impression,” she noted wryly.
“You can’t stay here.”
“I can’t leave,” she said with gentle cheerfulness, even as she nudged the door open and maneuvered her way around him, away from the huge raindrops that had started falling outside. “There’s a storm coming and besides, the nice fisherman who brought me over in his powerboat has left already.” Her huge tote bag hung from her shoulder and threatened to slip off as she lifted the box she’d brought. “Where do you want me to put these?”
“Where do I want you to…?” Justice repeated in disbelief. “As far away from me as possible. Antarctica would do fine.” His voice held a military curtness and a drill inspector loudness.
Kelly didn’t flinch but instead allowed his anger and his words to roll off her like water off a duck. “That voice isn’t going to work on me, so you might as well save your energy and your vocal cords. You’re not going to scare me away.”
“Don’t be so sure of that, little girl.”
Okay, so now his voice held a dangerous edge that did make her a tad nervous. But she couldn’t afford to let that show. And she also couldn’t afford to let him know how glad she was to see him.
She’d only been thirteen the last time she’d seen him. He’d been marrying her older sister at the time. He’d looked so tall and heroic to her young eyes. He’d adored Barbie and had from the moment he’d met her three years earlier in high school.
Justice and Barbie had gotten married right after graduation. Two years later they’d gotten divorced.
“Why are you here?” Justice demanded. “Haven’t you Hart women messed up my life enough already? Have you come to gloat or something? To kick a guy when he’s down, is that it?”
Kelly set the heavy box on a nearby table before turning to face him. “I came here to help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Outside, skeletal veins of lightning flashed and flowed like rivers of light while thunder boomed, rattling the floor-to-ceiling windows in the beach house. Impressive. But the storm didn’t hold a candle to the fire in Justice’s eyes.
There was something more to his anger, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something else reflected in his gaze. Was it bitterness or despair? It was there and gone as fast as a flash of lightning. Maybe she’d imagined that flare of emotion, but there was no way she was ignoring it. “I’m a physical therapist, Justice. I can help you.”
“I don’t need your help,” he repeated, his voice gritty, a muscle in his jaw clenching. “I don’t need it and I don’t want it.”
“I know that’s what you think right now, but you’ll change your mind.”
“That’s what your sister, Barbie, thought. That she’d change my mind about being a Marine. That she’d change my mind about playing Ken to her Barbie-doll life. It ain’t gonna happen,” Justice drawled.
Score one for the Marine. Kelly was stung by the comparison to her sister. She and Barbie had little in common. Her older sister liked being surrounded by adoring men and needed love and plenty of male attention to feel fulfilled. Barbie wasn’t a bad person, she just had different priorities from Kelly’s.
At the moment, Kelly’s priority was dealing with Justice.
She busied herself opening the box. “I brought food. I wasn’t sure how many provisions you had here, so I thought it was better to be safe than sorry.”
“If you really thought that, then you’d never have come here in the first place.”
“You’ve got me there,” Kelly admitted with a grin. “So I don’t always play it safe, I admit it. Ah, I see the kitchen.” She made a beeline for it, bringing the box of food with her and leaving Justice to follow her.
She surreptitiously noted his awkward movement. He was still limping, but his mother had told Kelly that the doctors said that was due to the serious bruising and cuts on his leg. He also suffered a slight concussion. But it was his right arm and shoulder that were the real problem.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the increasing thunder, in addition to the banging of pots and pans as she searched for what she wanted.
“Making dinner,” Kelly replied. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t eaten since I had a burger along the interstate down from Nashville.”
Justice was tempted to ask her what she was doing in Nashville, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of showing any curiosity about her.
His ex-wife’s little sister had certainly grown up. She was wearing baggy cargo pants with flowers on the knees and a lime-green cropped T-shirt that showed the pale skin along the small of her back as she bent over to return the pile of pots to the cabinet. Her wavy, light-brown hair was gathered into a single braid held in place by some sort of flower twisty-thing. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry aside from a sensible watch and silly dangle earrings shaped like question marks.
Justice certainly had plenty of questions. “How did you know where I was?”
“Your mother told me,” Kelly replied. “She’s worried about you.”
“Why would my mother tell my ex-wife’s sister she was worried about me?”
“Ask her.”
“I’m asking you.”
“And I prefer that you ask her. You should call her, anyway, to let her know you’re okay.”
“She has no cause to be worried about me,” he said gruffly.
“Right,” she noted with a wry smile in his direction. “I can’t imagine why she was the teeniest bit concerned that her oldest son took off from the hospital against doctor’s orders to hide out on a practically deserted coastal island.”
“I am not hiding out,” he said in a gritty voice. “A Marine does not hide out.”
“Hey, fella, I’ll have you know that you’re not the first Marine I’ve treated,” she informed him before setting a saucepan on the stove and pouring in a batch of homemade soup from a plastic container she’d brought with her. “I know all about the Marine’s set of values. Honor, courage, commitment. Not stupidity, however. I saw no reference to stupidity.”
Justice couldn’t believe the way she’d barged into his domain and made herself at home. He was a member of the Marine Corps’ elite Force Recon, the best of the best. He could take out an enemy sniper before they knew what hit them.
Or he used to be able to do that. The docs had warned him that those days were gone now.
Justice couldn’t believe it—years of living on the edge, of making danger his friend, and he got hurt not on a mission but by driving in the States on a normal sunny day.
And now they hailed him as a hero. If they only knew….
The inner torment streaked through him, overshadowing the physical pain he’d been living with since the accident. Gritting his teeth, he battened down his emotions and blocked out the raw fear and guilty doubts that plagued him.
Lightning flashed overhead and thunder crashed a second later. Kelly didn’t even flinch as she added salt to the soup.
Her calmness irritated him even further.
His life was in a mess, and she was cooking soup.
Yeah, she might have grown up, but she was still as much a nuisance as ever. And he wasn’t about to let her into his life. No matter how good that darn soup was starting to smell.
First thing in the morning he would send her packing. But first he’d eat. He needed food to regain his strength, and there was no contest that what she was cooking had to be better than the stuff he’d been eating lately.
But she wasn’t staying. No way. He’d have her off-island on tomorrow’s every-other-day ferry to the mainland.
“So what’s the deal with you and my mother?” he demanded, carefully lowering himself into a straight-backed kitchen chair.
Kelly looked guilty. His eyes narrowed. Something was up here.
Kelly tried sidestepping the issue once again by repeating her earlier mantra. “Maybe you should ask her.”
“I’m asking you,” he said, grimacing as he removed the sling in order to use his right hand. He couldn’t afford to keep babying it. This was his shooting arm. He had to regain his mobility ASAP. Regardless of what the doctors said.
She placed a huge bowl of soup in front of him along with a few thick slices of what looked like homemade bread. “And I’m saying you should ask your mother. You have a cell phone with you, right? So you can call her and let her know you’re all right.”
“Why this sudden concern?”
“It’s not sudden,” she denied, putting her own bowl of soup on the table across from him.
“So you’ve been pining for me all these years?” he mocked, and was surprised by the flash of something in her eyes. Such big brown eyes for such a little thing. Well, maybe not such a little thing, he silently revised, remembering how the top of her head had brushed his chin as she’d slipped past him to get into the house.
“Yeah, I’ve been positively lovesick for years,” she mocked right back, even going so far as to bat her eyelashes at him with such outrageous excess that he would have smiled…if he’d been a smiling man. But he wasn’t.
He focused his attention on the soup. It was good. It wasn’t until he saw the satisfied grin on her face that he realized he’d just guzzled down his chow like a raw recruit at boot camp. He dropped his spoon so abruptly it clattered on the wooden table.
“Don’t get too comfy here,” he warned her. “You’re leaving first thing in the morning.”
His pronouncement was accentuated by a crack of thunder.
“Sounds like a doozy of a storm,” she noted a second before the lights flickered and went out. “Good thing I’m not afraid of the dark,” she calmly added. “How about you?”
“I’m a Marine. I live for the dark.”
That didn’t surprise Kelly. She’d sensed the darkness in him from the moment he’d opened the door. There was a new edge to him, a sharper dangerous edge that hadn’t been there before. Brought about by his years in the Marines or by his accident? Or a combination of both?
She could hear him breathing. There was something surprisingly sensual about being caught in the darkness with him, surrounded by velvety shadows illuminated by flashes of lightning. The harsh bursts of light captured the angles of his face, lending them new definition. It was the face of a man who wouldn’t step aside if trouble got in his way.
She reached for his empty bowl only to have her fingers collide with his. Heat shot through her, as powerful as a lightning strike. The storm outside dimmed as her senses shifted to the storm raging inside of her body. She could feel the excitement burning in her like a wild thing.
“There’s something I should warn you about this beach house,” Justice said, his voice silky soft. “There’s only one bed.”
Chapter Two
“Only one bed, huh?” Kelly frantically tried to hide the fact that her heart had just kicked into overdrive. She couldn’t afford to let Justice know that he was getting to her. That wouldn’t do at all.
For one thing, Justice clearly didn’t think of her that way. He viewed her as a nuisance. For another, she couldn’t get involved with him. He was a patient. Or about to become one. Not to mention that he was her sister’s ex-husband. A definite hornet’s nest there. Way too much baggage.
The lights came back on, and as they did, Kelly knew what she had to do. She had to be sensible here. She also had to keep her sense of humor. It had gotten her through in the past whenever things were tough.
With that in mind, she gave Justice a deliberately mocking look. “Well, I suppose I could arm wrestle you for the bed, but as it happens I brought a sleeping bag with me. And I noticed that your couch in the living room looked pretty comfy.”
“Comfy? Do not get comfy here,” Justice warned her. “You will not be staying.”
His irritated words rolled right off her back. She had her “sensible” coating on now, and nothing he could say should get to her now. The realization comforted her. So did the fact that her smile threw him as she patted his left, uninjured arm. “You know, it’s a good thing I’m not the sensitive kind or I’d be hurt by your eagerness to get rid of me. I know, however, what’s behind it.”
He gave her one of those aggravated looks men give women they don’t understand. “I’ll tell you what’s behind it, the fact that I want you out of here.”
“So you’ve said. We’ll talk about it in the morning, if you’d rather.” She started cleaning up after their meal, taking their dirty bowls to the kitchen sink and running the water.
“I’d rather you were gone.”
Thunder boomed one final time, rattling the windowpanes with its bass reverberations. Despite the rumblings, the storm was actually weakening. Just like Justice. He was rumbling like the thunder, but it was more bark than bite. “You’re starting to sound like a broken record, Justice.”
“I can’t figure out why you’d want to stay somewhere you’re not wanted.”
“Besides being a glutton for punishment, you mean?” She squirted dishwashing liquid into the sink. There was a dishwasher, but she felt the need to scrub. “I’ve already told you, your mother asked me to come check on you.”
“So now you’ve checked. I’m still alive.”
“Have you called her on your cell phone yet?”
“What are you, my keeper?” His voice was really irritated now.
She turned to face him directly as she issued her challenge. “I thought Marines didn’t need keepers.”
He automatically straightened. “We don’t.”
“Then act like it, and call your mother.”
Justice looked like he wanted to strangle her, before he pivoted and marched out of the room to what she presumed was the only bedroom. The fact that he didn’t slam the door but instead closed it with controlled precision didn’t fool her for one second. The man was furious with her.
Kelly paused in her nervous tidying to sink onto a nearby kitchen chair. Okay, so maybe Justice wasn’t weakening like the departing storm. Maybe she’d been a little overconfident thinking she had things under control.
Only one bed…
His words kept replaying in her mind as she quickly took stock of her surroundings. The living room she’d walked through had a gorgeous pine floor but little furniture aside from the neutral-colored couch. The kitchen was equally no-frill. There was no particular color scheme, the walls were white as was the woodwork. The bathroom was at the end of the hallway, right next to the bedroom with its one bed.
She could easily picture Justice on that bed, his lean fighter’s body tangled in satin sheets….
Rats. Only in the beach house for an hour and already she was having sexual fantasies about Justice. Not good.
Time to remind herself yet again why she was here. Because of Mrs. Wilder. Kelly would do anything for the older woman, including walking over fire. And it looked like dealing with Justice would come darn close to that fiery fate.
Kelly would manage. It’s what she did best. Her older sister, Barbie, looked gorgeous and Kelly…well, Kelly managed. Barbie brought men to their knees in adoration and Kelly managed not to care that she faded into the wallpaper whenever her sister was around.
“It’s a good thing you’re so smart,” their father had often told Kelly when she was growing up. “Because you’re not as beautiful as your sister, so you need something else to make things balance out.”
But things had never felt balanced to Kelly. Growing up, she’d often felt like a forgotten member of the family. Her mother, a beauty like Barbie, had referred to Kelly as her “foundling child” because she hadn’t inherited their blond-and-blue-eyed coloring and instead had taken after her father with brown hair and eyes.
When her mother died in an automobile accident, Kelly had been devastated. She’d despaired of ever being anything but the gangly, awkward thirteen-year-old she was, of ever showing her mother that she was her daughter and did belong.
And there was no depending on her sister during that time, because Barbie had spent every moment with Justice, accepting his marriage proposal only a few weeks after their mother’s death.
Justice and Barbie had been going together throughout high school, but even so, Kelly was surprised that Barbie had agreed to marry Justice. He’d already signed up to join the Marines after graduation. Barbie had told her that she was off to live an adventurous life.
Which left Kelly alone with her father, who tried unsuccessfully to hide how much he missed his wife and oldest daughter. He was proud of Kelly’s good grades and bragged about how smart she was, but he and Kelly never shared the special bond that he had with Barbie.
Mrs. Wilder had been a lifesaver during those difficult times, stepping into a maternal role with ease. Ever since then they’d continued to share a special bond, despite the divorce between Barbie and Justice.
Yes, Kelly would do anything for Mrs. Wilder. Even face a lion like Justice in his den.
She wondered if he knew that Barbie had recently gotten engaged to a wealthy Atlanta businessman? If so, did that knowledge contribute to his bad mood, to his coming to this island? He’d certainly still sounded bitter when he’d said, Haven’t you Hart women messed up my life enough already?
Kelly had anticipated that Justice might be angry at her sudden appearance, but she hadn’t expected her own response to him. Sure she’d had a teenage crush on him, but that had been ages ago. There hadn’t been any way for her to foresee the powerful physical effect he had on her now. And she’d only just arrived. There was bound to be more touching the more time she spent with him.
If she became his physical therapist, they’d be in close physical contact. She had to be prepared for that. But the one thing she wasn’t prepared to do was fall in love with Justice Wilder.
Justice was not having a good evening. He wasn’t getting any more information out of his mother than he’d gotten out of Kelly.
“You forget, Justice, I’ve been interrogated by the best—your father. You’re not going to get me to tell you anything I choose not to,” his mom told him. “It didn’t work when you were ten and trying to find out what I got you for your birthday and it’s not going to work now.”
“I’m injured, you shouldn’t be picking on me.”
“That’s right, you’re injured and you shouldn’t be giving me white hair by taking off from the hospital against doctor’s orders.”
So much for trying the sympathy routine. “I’m fine,” he said impatiently.
“We both know that’s not true.” His mother’s voice was quiet but firm. She’d never been one to take any guff. As the only female in a household of five men—her husband and four strapping sons—she couldn’t afford to be a pushover.
“So you sent little Kelly here to take care of me?”
“She’s good at what she does, Justice. Let her help you.”
“I don’t need any help.”
“You can always tell a Marine, but you can’t tell them much,” she muttered before growling, “Don’t be such an idiot.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom.”
“I mean it, Justice.” She was using her sternest voice. “You be nice to Kelly. I sent her there. It wasn’t her idea to go.”
“I’m a grown man, I don’t need my mother sending anyone to help me. I’ve faced plenty of danger on my own.”
“I know that,” she said quietly. “And I know the nickname you earned in your squad because of it. Invincible. Able to do the impossible. It’s almost as if you were tempting the fates to do something to you. If there was a dangerous mission, you were on it.”
“It’s what I do.” Or what he used to do. Who knew what his future held now? He glared down at his injured shoulder and tried to ball his right hand into a fist and raise his arm. It was a pitiful effort.
“And worrying about you and taking care of you is what I do,” his mother countered. “I’ve let you do your job all these years, now let me do mine. Just give physical therapy a try with Kelly and see how things turn out.”
“I don’t want her here.”
“You can’t throw her out.” His mother sounded panicked, which made him feel guilty.
“I won’t throw her out,” he said gruffly. “It’s storming outside.” Lightning flashed again. “I wouldn’t turn a dog out in this kind of weather.”
“How kind of you to liken Kelly to a dog,” she noted wryly.
“Okay, so I don’t have my brother’s charming ways with women,” Justice retorted.
“I’m not asking you to be charming, just to be nice. Think you can do that? I’m only nagging you because I love you.”
His throat suddenly clenched. “I know that. Listen, I’ve got to go, Mom. I only called you to let you know I’m okay.”
He quickly ended the call and tossed his cell phone onto the night table. He’d lied to his mom. He wouldn’t be okay until he’d recovered. He was Invincible once. He needed to be Invincible again. Or die trying.
“My mom told me to be nice to you,” Justice drawled a few minutes later as he watched Kelly wipe down the stove.
“And you told her you’ve been the perfect host, right?” she drawled right back.
“I told her I wouldn’t toss you out on your keister in a storm.” A boom of thunder crashed as if to emphasize his statement. Noting her startled jump, he said, “Are you afraid?”
She tossed the sponge back into the sink before turning to face him again. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no, I’m not afraid of storms. Actually I think they’re kind of neat. And pretty amazing. Did you know that lightning bolts are rarely thicker than a common pencil?”
“You’re just a fountain of information, aren’t you?”
“I’m a smart woman.”
“Not smart enough to stay away from me.”
She sighed. “What is it going to take to convince you that I can help you?”
“A miracle?”
“How about a game of poker?”
He narrowed his blue eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”
“If I beat you, then you’ll stop being such a baby about my being your physical therapist.”
Justice stared at her in amazement. Did she have any idea who she was speaking to here? He was a member of the Marine Corps’ most elite Force Recon. He knew twenty ways to disable an enemy in the blink of an eye. He’d used deadly force. And she was calling him a baby and challenging him to a poker game? She clearly wasn’t as smart as she claimed to be.
“What happens when I win?” he countered.
“Then I’ll leave on the next ferry.”
He found that hard to believe. Not when she’d been so adamant about staying. She didn’t appear to be the type to give up easily if at all. Stubborn. Just like his ex-wife. Definitely another troublemaking Hart woman—the last thing he needed in his life. “What’s the catch?” he demanded.
“No catch. I happen to have a deck of cards with me.”
“I’m sure you do.” He didn’t trust her for one minute. The woman was up to something. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to let her get away with it. “And I’m sure you won’t mind if I examine them first.”
“Afraid I’m going to cheat the big bad Marine?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if you tried. After all, you are Barbie’s sister.”
“I’m nothing like my sister.”
“No, you’re not, are you.”
His comment stung for some reason. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, as if dismissing her.
Okay, so she wasn’t gorgeous like Barbie. That didn’t mean she didn’t have other redeeming characteristics.
Like being smart? an inner voice mocked.
Like being strong, she silently countered. And making the most of what she had. And being independent. Unlike Barbie, she didn’t need outside reinforcement to feel complete. She didn’t need constant reassurance and male adoration.
Kelly narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a don’t-mess-with-me look. “No, I’m not my sister. I’m something even better.”
“Really. And what’s that?”
“A woman not to be trifled with.”
He raised one dark eyebrow. “Trifled with, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You do that.” She walked over to her backpack and reached into an outside pocket. “Here are the cards.” She handed them to him. “Check them out. Then prepare for a trouncing.”
“First trifle now trouncing.” His voice was mocking.
So was hers. “What’s wrong, is my vocabulary too big for you?”
“I’ll try and keep up.”
“I hope it isn’t too much of a strain for you.”
“I think I can handle it.” And you. The look he gave her made that much clear.
She’d forgotten how blue his eyes were. It was like being bathed in the deep ocean, his gaze washing over her.
“We’ll have to see,” she replied, backing away from him…and temptation.
“Want me to deal?”
“No, I’ll deal. I feel it only fair to warn you that when I play cards with my nursing buddies, I often end up winning.”
“I’m shaking in my boots.”
Actually he was barefoot. He had nicely formed feet leading up to muscular calves and thighs. Don’t go there, she sternly warned herself, tearing her gaze away.
“I feel it only fair to warn you that when I play cards with my Force Recon buddies, I always win,” Justice said.
“Then we’ve both been warned.” She sat down at the table where they’d recently eaten and waited patiently for Justice to join her before adding, “May the best woman win.”
Kelly didn’t feel one iota of guilt for not informing him of the summer she spent working at an Atlantic City casino and learning card tricks from a seventy-year-old gentleman gambler named Diamond Mick. She deliberately dealt the cards a tad awkwardly, not like a complete novice but not like one confident of winning. She didn’t want to overplay her hand here. Let Justice think she was a bit nervous.
The truth was she never cheated when playing gin rummy with her nursing buddies. But poker was another thing. She rarely got the chance to practice what Diamond Mick had taught her, other than practicing in front of a mirror to make sure she hadn’t lost her touch.
They only played one hand. As it turned out she didn’t have to cheat, she was dealt a fantastic set.
The problem was that Justice looked equally thrilled with whatever he had. What if he cheated?
She’d have to count on a Marine’s code of honor preventing him from doing that. Maybe his confidence was his way of trying to bluff her into folding. That wasn’t going to happen.
She called his bet. Justice set down his cards, spreading them out with a confident grin. “Read ’em and weep. Four of a kind.”
“Very impressive. But I believe a straight flush beats four of a kind every time.” And she set down her own cards.
“I don’t believe this.”
“I didn’t cheat.”
“I know you didn’t, I was watching you like a hawk.”
Kelly was relieved that she hadn’t had to practice her card trick skills after all. She’d forgotten that as a Force Recon Marine, Justice had unusually acute powers of observation.
“So we’re agreed. I stay on as your physical therapist. Good.” Kelly didn’t even wait for him to reply. “That’s all settled, then. Well, it’s getting late and I’ve had a full day. I think I’ll turn in.”
“Go right ahead.” His look dared her to get ready for bed in front of him.
She had no such qualms. Once her sleeping bag was comfortably arranged on the couch, she tugged on a huge sleepshirt over her head and upper torso. Under cover of the thick cotton material she expertly wiggled and maneuvered her T-shirt and bra right off, tugging them out the armhole and into her backpack in one deft operation.
Justice appeared stunned by her behavior. Good. She liked to keep him on his toes. She was not about to retreat into the bathroom to get ready for bed like some shy miss. She could adopt as much of a don’t-mess-with-me stance as any Marine. It was all about attitude with a capital A.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” Justice asked.
“My co-ed college dorm. Were you suitably impressed?”
“Were you trying to impress me?”
She shook her head.
“Good.” His voice was curt. “Because I don’t need you going all goofy over me like you did as a teenager.”
Kelly wanted to disappear into the floorboards. She hadn’t realized he’d noticed her crush. He’d never said anything at the time. Probably because he’d been too nice. He wasn’t nice any longer. That much was clear.
She couldn’t let him know he’d bothered her. Tucking her “sensible” facade around her once more, she managed a brilliant smile. “Jeez, Justice, that was ages ago. Get over yourself, would you? The bottom line is that you can relax because overbearing Marines aren’t my type,” she assured him. “I promise not to go all goofy over you. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”
The question was, would she be safe with him?
Chapter Three
The kiss was divine. A warm masculine mouth tenderly parted her lips. Hands slipped over her willing body, caressing her with skill and passion. The moment had come. The waiting was over. This was it…
“Rise and shine!” a voice boomed over Kelly’s head.
Startled, she jerked awake and almost ended up rolling right off the couch in her sleeping bag.
“Hold on there.” Justice grabbed her with his good hand.
She’d been dreaming. Blinking rapidly, Kelly tried to take stock of her surroundings. But her immediate attention was focused on Justice.
He’d caught her, preventing her fall with his body. He was so close to her she could feel the warmth of his lean body, could almost hear his heartbeat. She could certainly feel her own heart beating wildly.
She could also feel every one of his fingers. He wasn’t holding her that tightly. She was just super-sensitized to his touch, deliciously rough against her soft skin. He had calluses. He smelled of soap and shaving cream. She was wildly tempted to sniff his cheek, to lean closer and fall into his incredibly blue eyes….
“Hey,” he said gruffly, “I thought you promised that you weren’t going to throw yourself at my feet.”
A bucket of cold water couldn’t have snapped her out of her momentary reverie faster. “I’d like to throw something, all right,” she muttered, shifting away from him on the couch. “And not at your feet. At your head. What time is it?”
“O-five hundred.”
“Five in the morning?” She hadn’t gotten to sleep until after one, tossing and turning on the couch. And that dream she was having was just getting really good. Not that she’d been dreaming about Justice. She hadn’t. She was sure that the man in her dreams bore a striking resemblance to the sexy actor Dylan McDermott. That was her story and she was sticking to it.
“Affirmative. Time to rise and shine and get this physical therapy thing going,” Justice stated. “The faster we get started, the faster we’ll be done, and then you can go your way and I can return to my tour of duty.”
“First I need to see your medical records.”
“I’ve got them here.” Using his left hand, he waved them in front of her sleepy face. “Had them faxed from the mainland.”
“Fine. I’ll read them.” She barely stifled a yawn. “But first I need coffee and a shower, in that order.”
“Go ahead, but be fast about it. No dawdling for an hour in the bathroom trying to make yourself beautiful.”
“I could stay in the bathroom for a week and I still wouldn’t be beautiful,” she wryly retorted. “I told you, I’m not my sister.”
“So I’m learning.”
“Oh, so you are capable of learning? That’s an encouraging sign.”
“You sure are a feisty little thing, aren’t you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh puhlease! For one thing, I’m not little. I’m five foot seven in my bare feet. For another I’m not feisty.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Yes, but then you’re a Marine, easy to fool.”
“You’re just saying that to get to me,” Justice calmly replied. “See? I am learning.”
“Yes, you are. And you’re blocking my way to my morning caffeine so move, or face my wrath.”
“Wrath, huh? Is that anything like trifling with a trouncing?”
“No, it’s much worse. Now move.”
“Not a morning person, are we?” At her fiery look, he backed up. “Okay, okay, I’m moving.”
Still bleary-eyed, she headed for the kitchen and the thermos of coffee she’d left there last night. Cold coffee was better than no coffee. It was actually still a little warm, and she felt the caffeine hit her system as she grabbed clean clothes from her backpack on her way to the bathroom.
A shower helped restore her. She dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Her hair was still damp as she returned to the kitchen to confront Justice.
Only now did she notice the shirt he was wearing, which was one of those brilliant multicolored Hawaiian designs. How could she have missed that before? “Nice shirt,” she noted.
“It’s not mine,” he growled. “My buddy Striker owns this beach house and a collection of gaudy Hawaiian shirts.”
Judging from Justice’s disgusted expression, she figured he hadn’t chosen to borrow his friend’s clothes out of a desire to make a fashion statement. No doubt his injury made getting in and out of a button-down shirt easier than a T-shirt like he’d been wearing last night. And no doubt Justice hadn’t brought any shirts of his own, or he’d be wearing them and not this tropical number. He hadn’t done up all the buttons, leaving a sexy amount of his chest bare.
Time to change the subject, she decided. “So what’s for breakfast?”
“Toasted physical therapists,” he drawled.
Kelly cracked up. “I don’t believe it. The brooding Justice Wilder actually made a joke. This has got to be a first.”
“Who said it was a joke?”
“I’m tougher than I look. You don’t want to dine on me, believe me.” She opened the fridge and pulled out the fresh eggs in the box of provisions she’d brought with her yesterday. “How do scrambled eggs sound?”
His growling stomach was answer enough. Hers quickly followed suit. “Okay.” She reached for a frying pan. “A big rasher of scrambled eggs coming right up.”
Justice surreptitiously watched her as she moved around the kitchen with a speedy efficiency. She was into multitasking—beating the eggs with a fork in one hand while she popped pieces of bread into the toaster with the other. She seemed to have recovered from her earlier grouchiness.
Today she was wearing a pair of khaki walking shorts and a plain pink T-shirt. The sandals she wore displayed her feet and the neon pink nail polish on her toenails. Her question mark earrings once again dangled in her ears. Her damp hair was gathered up in one of those plastic clip things to keep it out of her way. She didn’t look particularly gorgeous but he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her.
Maybe it was her can-do attitude, or her off-key humming of a Faith Hill country song. She wasn’t her sister. She hadn’t spent a lot of time in the bathroom messing with makeup. In fact, he doubted she was wearing any. But as she passed by his seat at the small dining table, he noted that she smelled really good. Not all perfumy, but fresh and sexy.
Sexy? Dismiss that thought. This was his ex-wife’s baby sister here. Okay, so she was only five years younger than Barbie, which also made her five years younger than he was. Not a big deal. Age wasn’t the issue here. Family connections were.
She was here for one purpose, or so she said. To increase his chances of recovering the full use of his right arm. His shooting arm. He’d been one of the best sharpshooters Force Recon had ever seen. And now he sat here barely able to pick up a damn cup of coffee.
“What makes you think you can do anything to help me recover the mobility in my arm?” he abruptly demanded.
“The fact that I’m good at what I do. But I need to review your medical records before I can tell you anything definite, read the doctor’s orders for your treatment.”
“It’s all right here.” He impatiently shoved the file across the table, wanting those incriminating papers away from him. He already knew what they said by heart. Prognosis: unknown. Critical ligament damage…full recovery of mobility unlikely.
Well, Justice had dealt with “unlikely” and “unknown” before. More times than he could count, in fact. It had been unlikely that he would survive that last mission in a certain Middle Eastern country rumored to harbor terrorists.
But he had survived. Only to come back to the States to get injured.
“I forgot to ask you last night, how does it feel to be hailed a hero for rescuing that little boy from that burning car?” She placed a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs in front of him.
“It stinks.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad a cook,” she protested. “So I overcooked the eggs a little.”
“I meant that stupid hero thing. It’s not true.”
“It’s not true that you rescued a toddler from the back seat of a burning car after you witnessed a car accident near Camp Lejeune?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Justice growled.
“Fine.” She shrugged and sat down across from him, digging into her own breakfast. “We can discuss something else. Like how much you love my gourmet cooking.”
“The eggs are good,” he grudgingly admitted.
“Oh, my! I do declare that such flowery praise will surely go to my head.” She dramatically placed the back of her hand across her forehead in the manner of a swooning Southern miss.
Instead of acknowledging her mocking comment, he said, “How long will it take you to review my medical records?”
“Not long. I’m a fast reader.”
“Good. Because I want to get started on this op as soon as possible.”
“Op?”
“This operation, this mission.”
“I see. So you’re considering your recovery as you would any mission assigned to you? That’s a good thing, I suppose.”
“A Marine never fails.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“If you’re referring to my failed marriage to your sister—”
“I wasn’t,” she quickly interrupted him. “I meant that no one can guarantee a 100 percent success rate at anything.”
“No excuses, no exceptions.”
“Seems like a pretty tough philosophy to maintain.”
“The Marine Corps is supposed to be tough. It’s not a place for wimps.”
“Yeah, physical therapy is like that. Not a place for wimps. Oh, I almost forgot…” She returned to the counter to hand him the special concoction she’d mixed up in the blender. It did not escape his notice that she’d only poured one glass, not two. One glass, just for him. “Here, drink this.”
He grabbed her wrist. “What did you put in here?”
Startled, she tried to pull away.
“Answer me. What did you put in here?”
“Wheat germ, a banana, some strawberries, orange juice, a little vitamin B.”
“And what else?”
“Nothing else.”
“Do you swear on my mother’s life?”
His expression made her shiver. “Yes.”
He abruptly released her wrist.
“Why?” Her voice was husky with emotion. “What did you think I’d put in there?”
“My pain medication.”
She stared at him in amazement. “You thought I was trying to drug you against your will?”
“That thought did cross my mind, yes.”
“You clearly have a suspicious mind.”
“It’s kept me alive more times than I can count.”
“We’re not in a battle zone here.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s an ingrained part of my training, thinking of scenarios and outcomes, thinking of everything as a weapon, even this fork.” He used the utensil to eat the last bite of scrambled eggs. “You call it being suspicious, I call it being alert, never letting down my defenses.”
She realized then how deep his distrust truly ran—not just of her but of everyone and everything around him.
“If I gave you my word that I won’t drug you, that it’s completely unethical for me to do so, would that make you feel better? If I swore on your mother’s life, as you put it, would that make you feel better?”
“The only thing that will make me feel better is regaining complete mobility of my arm and rejoining my squadron. Anything less than that is unacceptable.”
Kelly had worked with patients before who’d been unable to accept their injuries and the limitations that had subsequently been placed on them. Inevitably it made their recoveries slower. But there was no speeding up the acceptance process. Each individual had to get there at their own rate, in their own time, in their own way. She had a feeling that Justice’s way would be the hard way. He wasn’t a man to take the easy route.
She didn’t even realize that she was absently rubbing her wrist until he spoke.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t trust me,” she replied. “That’s bound to make this process more difficult.”
“I told you, I don’t trust anyone.”
“Not even your own family?”
“Of course I trust them.”
“Then trust that your mother knew what she was doing when she sent me to you.”
“I trust her, not her judgment about everything.”
“Oh, so you think I conned your mother into sending me here?” Kelly asked mockingly. “Sure, I can understand that. After all, she’s such a gullible lady. Very naive. Easy to fool. Nothing to pull the wool over her eyes. An easy mark. A real bubblehead.”
“Hey, nobody calls my mom a bubblehead,” Justice growled.
“My point exactly. She’s one of the sharpest women I’ve ever met.”
“Okay, okay, so my mother is not easily fooled. Point taken.”
“I hope so. I’d rather not have this conversation every time I offer you a drink. Think of all the energy you’re expending on that distrust.”
“It’s not wasted energy.”
“Yes, it is. That mind-set may be useful during one of your covert special ops, as you called them, but you don’t need that kind of defense mechanism in this situation. You’re safe here.”
Didn’t she understand that he wasn’t safe anywhere? He’d let down his guard when he’d rushed in to save that toddler, and look where it had gotten him. If he’d been more alert, he might have fallen differently. He’d been trained to drop and roll and had avoided injury so many times in the past. It was one of the reasons he’d gotten his nickname.
No, he definitely was not safe, not from the nightmares about the car bursting into flames, not about the doubts that he refused to even acknowledge.
He had no room in his life for such things.
Kelly claimed she could help him, fine. Here was her chance to prove it. He’d always been a man who believed more in actions than in words.
That didn’t mean he trusted Kelly, or her motives. Bottom line was that she was still his ex-wife’s sister and his divorce had not exactly been an amicable one. Kelly might still have some sort of hidden agenda for coming here. Which meant he’d have one, too.
Point, counterpoint, strike, counterstrike. It’s what he did, how he thought. Trust was not a requirement for getting the use of his arm back.
“You’d better start reviewing my medical report so we can get this op under way.” He impatiently waited while she read through the file. “Well? What’s the plan? You do have a plan, right?”
“Give me a minute here.”
“Because planning plays as important a role in the preparation of battle as in the conduct of battle.”
“Which is all very well and good but we’re not talking about a battle here.”
“Yes, we are. I’m not stupid enough to think otherwise. It’s going to be a battle to get my strength back.”
“There’s no guarantee your arm will recover fully, but you have a much better chance of increasing your range of mobility with physical therapy and time.”
“I don’t have much time and I’m not interested in merely increasing my range of mobility. I want my arm back the way it was before.”
“I can’t guarantee that will happen, Justice,” she said quietly.
“No excuses, no exceptions.”
“And no false promises of a miracle cure. We can just take this one step at a time and see how things progress. Deal?”
She held out her hand.
He reluctantly took it in his. His fingers were warm against her skin as he gingerly wrapped them around her hand. Even something as simple as a handshake proved difficult. Gritting his teeth, he silently railed against his own weakness.
“Don’t push yourself to do too much too soon, that will do more damage than good,” she warned him.
“Have you always been this bossy?”
“No, I think I’ve become bossier with age and now I’m getting pretty darn good at it. Which is a good thing considering that you’re used to drill instructors screaming orders at you. But don’t worry, I’ll try not to be too hard on you. No marching orders, none of that ‘right face’ or ‘forward march’ stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Not the appropriate military terminology? Sorry about that. Medical terminology is more my thing. For example, antibodies. Everyone knows that antibodies are against everyone. And that an enema is not a friend. Hey, was that a smile I saw there, soldier?”
“I’m a Marine, not a soldier.”
“Sorry, I’ll repeat the question. Was that a smile I saw there, Mr. Big Bad Marine?”
“It was gas.”
“Listen, buddy, any more jabs at my cooking and you’ll be pulling kitchen duty. And don’t even think about calling me a feisty little thing again.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
“I’m still waiting to hear your plan.”
“Okay, then. Here it is. We start out nice and easy…” Kelly began when he immediately interrupted her.
“I don’t like that plan.”
She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Maybe this should be the part where I point out that I’m the one with the training and you’re the one who is supposed to be heeding my advice.”
“I don’t do nice and easy,” Justice informed her.
She was not impressed. “Then it’s about time you learned. Just pretend you’re back in boot camp.”
Now he looked insulted. “There’s nothing nice or easy about boot camp. It’s twelve weeks of grueling and exhausting work meant to separate the cream of the crop from the rest.”
“You didn’t let me finish. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, just pretend you’re back in boot camp, only this time instead of your goal being to become a Marine, your goal is to increase your mobility. You’re very lucky that overall you’re in such good physical shape.”
“Lucky?”
She noted the bitterness in his voice. “Yes, lucky. I’ve dealt with patients who have terminal illnesses, patients who have been paralyzed by car accidents. Compared to them, you’re sitting pretty.”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here.” His curt words were like bullets. “I’m a member of the Marine Corps’ most elite force, which means I have to be at the top of my game. I have to pass stringent physical exams to return to my squad. These are men who can drop and do a few hundred one-handed push-ups without even breaking a sweat. My injury may seem measly to you…”
“It’s not measly, Justice. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. The bruising and lacerations on your legs will heal with time. And your concussion was slight, although you should have rested and not been traveling out here. But the damage to your shoulder is very serious indeed. I wasn’t trying to belittle your injury or the effect it’s had on your life. I’m just saying that in the whole spectrum of things, it could have been much worse. You could have been paralyzed or killed when that car exploded.”
Justice didn’t tell her how he felt, that he might as well have been killed if his future as a member of Force Recon was gone. She wouldn’t understand, she couldn’t know how much who he was involved what he did. The definition of invincible was “incapable of being overcome or defeated.” That was no longer true. Which left Justice feeling incapable, period.
“I realize that a brush with death makes most people question things in their lives…” Kelly began when he interrupted her again.
“Marines aren’t most people. And this certainly wasn’t the first time I’ve had a brush with death.”
His words chilled her. She’d known his work as a Marine meant he was exposed to danger, but she’d somehow never considered the fact that he might actually die serving his country.
She had to take a sip of freshly brewed coffee before going on. She steadied her trembling fingers by wrapping them around her coffee mug. “Why do you do it? Why do you put your life at risk?”
“Because my country needs me. It’s what I do and what I’m good at doing.”
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Cathie Linz
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: OPERATION: HEAL A HEROSubject: Justice Wilder, a true American hero. Badly injured while saving a small child′s life–and possibly facing the end of his military career.Mission: Track down this stubborn, combat-hardened Marine on the isolated island where he′s shut himself away. Convince him to accept someone else′s help–for the first time in his life.Complication: Kelly Hart′s skill as a physical therapist would heal his wounds. But what happens when he discovers she used to love him–and she realizes she still does?Mission Success: Uncertain. When a man and a woman share a tiny little cabin–and a whole lot of history–anything can happen!