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Officer, Surgeon...Gentleman!
Janice Lynn


When Dr Amelia Stockton sees dashing naval surgeon and old flame Cole Stanley on board her ship her heart calls mayday! Cole knows Amelia belongs in his arms – though getting her to admit to their explosive chemistry is difficult, especially given the Navy's ‘no relationship' policy!But when it comes to the beautiful Amelia, rules are made to be broken!









Officer, Surgeon…Gentleman!

Janice Lynn























www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover Page (#u79bc2bd7-67fb-5976-9338-93a4de86908a)

Title Page (#uf783f7e4-f04e-52c9-bb87-d68d267117d9)

About the Author (#u1fcdf593-4cb0-5676-a6ff-efe94574ead0)

Dear Reader (#u58e63cec-4b08-5783-8c57-92570445a17e)

Chapter One (#u479669eb-a8ce-5d47-8bcb-50bac2de4be7)

Chapter Two (#u3aa68f90-1f01-530a-9dc2-61c763aac0ed)

Chapter Three (#u8b42b320-db7e-5998-a021-1f0c1bfa6dfa)

Chapter Four (#uc288dedc-94fe-5c3d-b5f2-6334ad939b4b)

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)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


JANICE LYNN has a Masters in Nursing from Vanderbilt University, and works as a nurse practitioner in a family practice. She lives in the southern United States with her husband, their four children, their Jack Russell—appropriately named Trouble—and a lot of unnamed dust bunnies that have moved in since she started her writing career. To find out more about Janice and her writing, visit www.janicelynn.net

Dedication:



To Dr. Tamara Worlton Kindelan for inspiring my muse by just being herself, for her patience and generosity in answering my questions. To Teresa Rose Owens for her fabulous military knowledge. And to Terri Garey, my wig-wearing, fairy-winged partner in crime (aka cover model-stalking RT roomie), who believed I could and should write this story. You rock, ladies!

Any and all mistakes regarding military life are mine alone. Please forgive.


Dear Reader

Ever met someone and been fascinated by their life? That happened to me at the 2009 RT Book Reviews Booklovers’ Convention. I met a fascinating lady who worked as a ship surgeon on an aircraft carrier and my muse jumped into warp-drive, creating the Stockton family.

The Stocktons are true-blue military, serving their country with honour and pride. How can loner Dr Cole Stanley not want to be a part of their tightly knit family? Unfortunately, he met the wrong Stockton daughter first, and didn’t realise until almost too late. Now he’s a man on an impossible mission: to win Amelia’s love.

I hope you enjoy Cole and Amelia’s story. I love to hear from readers. Please e-mail me at Janice@janicelynn.net, or visit me at www.janicelynn.net to find out my latest news.



Janice




Chapter One


WHAT was he doing here?

Dr Amelia Stockton’s head spun at the sight of the uniformed naval officer crossing the sick bay of the USS Benjamin Franklin.

No way was Dr Cole Stanley really walking towards her.

And if that was Cole with the senior medical officer, well, she couldn’t consider what his presence on board her ship implied, what that would mean to her hard-won peace of mind.

“Wow, Dr Stockton,” Tracy whispered under her breath, nudging Amelia’s arm. “Is that the new ship’s surgeon? If so, sign me up for an elective procedure stat. Yum.”

Amelia didn’t turn to look at the petite blonde nurse, neither did she answer. She couldn’t even if she wanted to. Along with her spinning head, now her throat had swelled shut.

Cole really was on board her ship.

She’d known the aircraft carrier’s new surgeon would be arriving today. But Dr Evans’s replacement was supposed to be Dr Gerald Lewis, not Cole Stanley, military surgeon and heartbreaker extraordinaire. Just because she hadn’t seen him for two years, it didn’t mean she hadn’t instantly recognized that confident swagger, those piercing blue eyes, the crazy tune of her heart that had only ever played for him.

What was he doing here and why were her lungs crying for air?

From the overwhelming need to hit him for how he’d walked out on her and her family. That’s why her head spun, her throat swelled, and she couldn’t breathe. Her body functions hadn’t gone haywire because of Cole himself, just what he’d done. Really.

Certainly, her fluttery heart had nothing to do with the last time she’d seen him, the things they’d said, done. Dear sweet heavens above, the last time she’d set eyes on Cole he’d kissed her until her lungs had felt just like they did this very moment.

“Dr Stanley, welcome aboard, sir.” A corpsman saluted Cole, as did the physician’s assistant, acknowledging Cole’s higher military rank. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too, Richard. It’s been a while.”

He spoke with that voice. The one that haunted her sleep, her dreams. Nightmares, not dreams.

He shook both men’s hands, said something about the naval hospital he and Richard had worked at together, but Amelia’s ears roared, blocking out the details.

Cole. Was. On. Her. Ship.

No!

Oblivious to the turmoil he was creating in Amelia’s safe, tight-knit world, in her mind and entire body—just as he’d always done—he acknowledged Tracy.

The nurse practically fell over herself batting her lashes and blushing up a storm. Puh-leeze. Tracy could do so much better. Any woman could. Sure, Cole came in an eye-catching package—and how!—but so did most poisonous snakes.

Cole Stanley was a low-down, belly-crawling snake of the worst kind. Yes, Amelia had once thought he’d hung the moon and walked on water, but her eyes had been opened.

Lastly, he turned to her, acknowledging her salute. He hesitated only the slightest of seconds, making her wonder if perhaps she’d been wrong, if perhaps he did know how his being there affected her, that perhaps he was equally as affected by seeing her after all this time.

“Dr Stockton.” His gaze sought hers, searching, but for what she wasn’t sure. Did he expect her to welcome him? Not after what he’d done to her, to her sister, surely?

Still, her heart sped up and stalled all at once when their gazes tangled for the first time in two years. Memories from the past assailed her. Memories of her and Cole, laughing, working, devouring pizza while he quizzed her, caring for patients together during residency. Memories of Clara, Cole and herself spending hour after hour together back during Cole and her sister’s last year at medical school. They’d been two years ahead of her.

Clara.

Amelia sank her teeth into the soft flesh of her lower lip, welcoming the pain, the metallic tang of blood.

A tentative smile cut dimples into Cole’s cheeks. “It’s been a while since our paths have crossed, too.”

Not long enough. Not nearly long enough. Oh, Cole, what are you doing here?

His eyes were still bluer than the sea. His light brown hair still streaked with gold, as if the sun hadn’t been able to resist reaching out and touching him. Clara had called him Dr Delicious. Amelia and Josie had agreed when they’d met Cole. After all was said and done, though, they’d dubbed him Dr Disastrous.

Cole was here. On board her ship. In the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Tainting her first real deployment.

Oh, yeah, Dr Disastrous fit and she suspected she was headed for the biggest disaster of her life. The Titanic of disasters. Especially since she wavered between wanting to punch his handsome face and…she wasn’t sure what the other emotion battling for pole position was, but either way she didn’t like the uneasy fluttering in her chest.

“You know him?” Tracy asked from beside her, nudging her again, much to Cole’s obvious amusement. “You never said anything about knowing Dr Evans’s replacement.”

Taking a deep breath and reminding herself she was a lieutenant in the United States Navy, the middle daughter of Admiral John Stockton and a force to be reckoned with under any set of circumstances, Amelia shifted her gaze to her nurse.

“Dr Stanley graduated from Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences with my oldest sister, Clara, two years ahead of me.” She kept her face stoic, kept her tone even, emotionless. “With the last names so close, they were constantly thrown together and became acquainted. I met him during that time.”

“Oh,” Tracy said, her curious gaze going back and forth between them. “I see. Thrown together. Acquainted.”

Cole’s eyes flashed, hinting at the fire that burned beneath the surface, at the fact he’d known he’d be seeing her even if she hadn’t known of his arrival.

“How is Clara?”

Despite the tight rein she always held on her emotions, Amelia’s eyes narrowed. How could he ask that question? She wanted to scream, wanted to rip out his hair and kick him in the solar plexus. He’d been her big brother, her friend, her biggest crush, her sister’s fiancé.

And then he’d walked away.

“She’s fine.” Not really, but I’d never let you know how you hurt her, how you hurt me! Oh, God, why was breathing so difficult? “She’s serving as a flight surgeon with an air wing unit in the Middle East and has been commissioned there for about three months.”

He studied her much as she scanned a blood smear beneath her microscope, looking at each individual cell, searching for anything outside the norm. “I’d heard that.”

Did you hear how she went a little crazy after you left her? How she volunteered for the most dangerous assignments? How I’ve wondered if I played a role in my sister’s unhappiness and have had to live with that guilt?

“Josie and Robert? Are they well?”

As if he really cared how her vivacious younger sister and daredevil brother were. Oh, please. Why was he making the conversation between them so personal when the crew watched? Did he know that if they were alone she’d give him a piece of her mind? That she’d tell him where he could go and she’d happily buy him a one-way ticket? Her family had taken him in as one of their own and all he’d left them with was fragmented relationships and hearts.

She despised Cole for what he’d done to her family.

Except that he was her superior officer and as such she had to pay him respect, whether she felt one iota of it or not.

Life could be so unfair.

“Robert is serving on board the USS George Washington as the senior medical officer and Josie is doing field training exercises at a combat support hospital. She earned her nursing degree. They’re both fine. They’re Stocktons.”

His smile deepened at her last comment. It was a given all four Stockton children would succeed in life and medicine. Even when jerks like Cole came along and pulled the rug out from under their feet.

After her experience with Cole, Amelia had vowed never to give her heart to any man. Never did she want to feel the pain her devastated sister still hadn’t recovered from.

Just look at how much she had been hurt, too, and she had simply had a hero-worship crush on Cole, not been in love with him. Thank goodness.

When a Stockton gave their heart, they gave it forever.

“I’m glad to hear they’re doing well,” Cole said, pulling Amelia back to the present, moving closer to where she and Tracy stood.

Although she couldn’t possibly really smell him, she’d swear her nostrils filled with the musky scent of his skin, a scent once so familiar to her that, again, she was swamped by unwanted memories of when he’d starred in a daily role in her life.

“Your parents must be proud.”

Amelia didn’t answer. All four Stockton children had been raised to never show weakness to the enemy. Clara had put on a good front when Cole had dumped her, but privately her overachieving sister hadn’t been able to “Suck it up and move on,” as their father advised in any given situation. If she had, she’d have moved on, dated. Clara hadn’t. There’d been no one since Cole. Amelia’s heart ached at the enormity of her sister’s pain, and her role in it. At her own pain. All at the mercy of this man’s careless hand.

The others in the sick ward eyed them as if observing a ping-pong match. Cole’s gaze bore into Amelia, waiting, but for what she didn’t have a clue. For her to melt under his intense blue laser vision? For her to tense to the point she cracked into a thousand pieces?

Ha, he could wait until hell froze over.

She’d had enough.

“We’ve patients to see,” she reminded the crew. “A full schedule this morning.” She turned to the corpsman who eyed Cole with a bit of hero-worship. She recalled the look well. “Richard, since you and Dr Stanley are acquainted, why don’t you show him the surgery suite? I’m sure it’s similar to ones he’s worked from in the past, but he’ll want to familiarize himself with his new workstation and our equipment before getting started in the morning.”

Cole’s gaze lingered on her, but Amelia refused to meet his eyes again. Later, no doubt, they’d talk. Not that she wanted to talk to him. But how would they avoid doing so when they’d be forced to work together for the length of their deployment?

How would she deal with him at such close quarters? Although there were five thousand crew members aboard the aircraft carrier when the air wing was on board, she wouldn’t be able to keep from interacting with Cole. Not in the medical ward.

What were the odds of being stuck in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with the last man on earth she’d ever wanted to see again?

And yet, even with that thought, she couldn’t deny that she’d always known their paths would cross again.

How could it not when they’d left so much unfinished business between them?



Amelia Stockton in the flesh shamed Cole’s memory of John Stockton’s middle daughter. How had he forgotten how her melted-chocolate eyes sparkled with intelligence? How her high cheekbones accented her heart-shaped face? How her dark hair beckoned his fingers to free the upswept locks? How just being near her turned his insides outward?

No, he hadn’t forgotten that. Neither had he forgotten how fiercely loyal the Stockton siblings were, how they’d been trained to be soldier tough from the time they’d worn diapers. Although Amelia’s father had been civil when their paths had crossed recently, Cole suspected the majority of the Stocktons despised him.

All but Clara.

Then again, his former fiancée was the only one who knew the truth of what had transpired between them.

Cole stepped into the privacy of the surgical suite just off the sick ward, wondering if he’d really known what he was getting himself into when he’d finagled the assignment on board the USS Benjamin Franklin. He’d thought he had, but now, after seeing Amelia again, he had to wonder at his logic. Had he made a horrible miscalculation?

“I thought that went surprisingly well, considering.”

He glanced at the corpsman serving as his guide. “Considering?”

Had word already gotten out? The military community, especially the military medical community, was small, but surely his and Clara’s wedding fiasco hadn’t been such a hot topic that two years later folks were still talking about it?

“Considering you obviously upset Dr Stockton in a former life.”

“Obviously,” Cole muttered, knowing exactly what he’d done that had upset the lovely Dr Stockton and wishing circumstances had been different, that their relationship hadn’t taken the disastrous course it had. Tagging along with him and Clara, frequently working beside him during residency, she’d been like the kid sister he’d never had. Only, his feelings for his fiancée’s little sister had developed into something much more intense than those of a big brother.

Something so intense that no matter how he’d tried fighting those feelings, how long he’d denied them, he’d had to face facts. He had been engaged to the wrong Stockton daughter. He’d wanted Amelia. Deep down, all-consuming, wanted her with a passion he’d never felt before or since.

“She’s usually even-keeled,” Richard continued, looking intrigued. He crossed his arms, leaning against the bulkhead. “I’ve never seen her lose her cool, or even come close as she almost did when you walked into the sick bay. Honestly, I didn’t think anyone could rattle her infamous Stockton stoicism. What happened?”

“Between Dr Stockton and I? Nothing.” Cole took in his shipmate’s “yeah, right” expression and clarified. Better to get his version of the truth out before the rumor mill started something nasty that would add fire to Amelia’s hatred toward him.

“I was engaged to her older sister. It didn’t work out.”

Didn’t work out. Such an understatement, but what had happened between Clara and himself wasn’t his secret to tell. He’d promised he’d never reveal that she’d been the one to call off their wedding. Yes, only because she’d beaten him to it, but she had spoken up before he had. She’d also sworn him to secrecy. Cole hadn’t told a soul. Not even Amelia when he’d gone to her that night, desperately wanting to explain, to beg her to forgive him.

“You were engaged to Clara Stockton?” Richard whistled, looking impressed. “How come I never knew that?”

Cole shrugged.

“I met her, when I was inland. She was stationed nearby and joined several of us for drinks.” He whistled again. “She’s a looker.”

“Yes,” he agreed. Clara was a beautiful woman. On the day they’d met, she’d charmed him with her smile, her intelligence, her inherent toughness that was so in contradiction of her beauty-queen looks. She’d had a passion for medicine that matched his own and had professed to want the same things out of life. For the first time, he’d connected—really connected—with a woman.

For the first time, he’d felt a part of a family.

A wonderful, admirable family that would take on the world to protect each other.

Or to keep from disappointing each other.

Cole had longed for such a family his whole life. To be a part of something so strong.

He and Clara had studied together, worked together, laughed together. On the occasions they’d visited with her family, the Stocktons had welcomed him into their ranks with open arms. During their second year, asking her to marry him had seemed the logical thing to do. Becoming a real, permanent part of the Stockton family had seemed the most desirable thing he could imagine. He’d loved the time spent with them. With Clara. And Amelia.

Especially Amelia, he’d realized too late.

All the Stockton children were close, but Clara and Amelia shared a special bond, more best friends than sisters. Cole had spent as much if not more time with Amelia than he had Clara after Amelia had started medical school. Had gone from treating her as a kid sister to looking at her and seeing a woman who inspired fantasies.

“What happened?” Richard prompted when Cole stayed lost in his thoughts too long.

Cole inwardly sighed, but kept his shoulders square. He’d known coming aboard this ship would open old wounds. Wasn’t that one of the reasons he’d come? To open those wounds so they could finally properly heal? “Clara and I realized we’d made a mistake in becoming engaged and broke things off. I’ve not seen her since.”

Because Clara had completely changed her life plans and signed up to serve as a flight surgeon, going to helicopter flight school rather than a military hospital or aircraft carrier medical unit. They e-mailed on the rare occasion, but even that had grown further and further apart.

Richard’s brows rose. “That would have been, what? Two? Three years ago?”

“Yes.” Two long and torturous years where a single weekend had forever changed the course of his life. Two long and torturous years in which he’d tried to forget the Stocktons. Yet here he was, seeking out the Stockton he couldn’t forget. He glanced around the surgical suite, taking in the neutral tones of the room. Dull gray bulkheads and metal cabinets of sturdy construction. “Tell me, where are the laparoscopic instruments? I’ll put together a laparoscopic appendectomy set to my preferences. Then I want to go through and make sure the staples match the handles and check out the rest of the equipment so I don’t run into any surprises midprocedure.”

Accurately sensing Cole’s desire to change the subject, the corpsman explained the day-to-day basics in the surgical ward.

Not much different from what he’d expected, even better equipped than some of the sites he’d worked at prior to being deployed. Yet he couldn’t recall his palms sweating and his heart racing at any other new assignment.

He knew the reason why.

The same reason he’d finagled his assignment on board this ship when doing so could cost him everything.

Amelia Stockton.




Chapter Two


LATER that morning, Amelia grimaced at the oozing wound on Corporal Wright’s left inner thigh. “How long has the area looked like this?”

He shrugged his brawny shoulders. “Yesterday the spot was a little red. Today it looks like I got shot and the place festered all to hell.”

The abscess looked nothing like a real gunshot wound, but she didn’t bother explaining that to the eighteen-year-old. She hoped he never had reason to learn otherwise.

She turned to the cabinet that contained the appropriate supplies, pulled out a bottle of one percent Xylocaine, and drew up a syringe full of the numbing agent. “Are you allergic to any medicines?”

“I’m not allergic to anything.” He shook his head, eyeing the syringe with pale-faced dread but trying not to show his dislike of needles. “What are you planning to do, Doc?”

“I’m going to open the area, drain the abscess, then pack the wound with special sterile packing gauze that will stay in the opened area for a few days.”

The corporal swallowed, his gaze lingering on the syringe. “Will it hurt?”

Amelia could laugh at the irony of his question. The men she dealt with had been through so much with their training, could endure great hardships, yet wave a needle and syringe in front of the biggest, baddest of the lot and he just might turn green in the face.

“Just a stick and some burn when the numbing agent is injected. After the medication, you shouldn’t feel a thing,” she explained.

She swabbed the area with an antiseptic solution then stuck the needle bevel up into the raised red area, numbing the overlying skin. Once she’d finished injecting the area, she dropped the used syringe into a sharps container then smiled at her still-pale patient.

“While the numbing agent is taking effect, my nurse, Tracy, is going to set up a surgical tray so I can open the area and drain the abscess. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and we’ll get this taken care of.”

Tossing her protective gloves into the appropriate waste receptacle, she left the small exam area and went into the room that served as the medical office.

Her gaze went to the computer on her desk and she winced.

Unless her sister was out in the field, she’d have an e-mail from Clara. She didn’t want to tell her sister that her runaway groom was on board, that for the next few months Amelia would be working alongside him, spending more time with him than she’d like.

Than she’d like?

She didn’t want to spend any time with Cole.

None. Never again.

If she’d never met the blasted man that would have been just fine.

Better than fine.

Her life would have been better. Less haunted by twinkling blue eyes and a sexily timbred voice that belonged to a man she’d once idolized. How could fate have been so cruel as to assign him to serve on the same ship?

“Need help?”

She spun, coming face-to-face with the source of her agitation. “Not from you.”

His brow arched.

“Sir,” she added, in deference to his higher rank.

Cole’s gaze narrowed. “That’s not what I was getting at.”

“No? Not tossing around your weight, sir?”

“No.” He said the word slowly, studying her.

Hello, she was not a bug under a magnifying glass and could he please just go jump overboard? Anything, just so long as she didn’t have to look at him, didn’t have to remember.

Her fingers clenched into tight fists. “Then what were you getting at, Dr Stanley?”

He crammed his hands into his pants pockets. “I suppose asking you to call me Cole would be useless?”

“You suppose correctly, sir.”

Her eyes had to be tiny slits of disdain because she was holding back none of her anger, none of her frustration. However, she desperately held back all of her hurt, all of the pain she’d felt at his sudden absence from her life two years ago when he’d been such an integral part of her very being for the majority of her university days. God, how she’d hurt, ached to her very core.

“Amelia.”

“I did not give you permission to call me Amelia.” She did not want to hear her name on his lips. Memories of another time, another place, of him whispering her name echoed through her mind, twisting her insides with feelings she’d denied for so long, feelings she didn’t want. Not then. Certainly not now.

“Actually, you did,” he reminded her, his gaze not leaving hers, pinning her beneath intense blue. “Just because time has passed, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten.”

That she understood. Two years certainly hadn’t been enough time for her to forget a single thing about Cole. Sometimes she wondered if forever would be long enough or if she was doomed to spend eternity remembering every detail about the man looking so intently at her.

“We were friends once.” The color of his eyes darkened to a deep blue. “Good friends.”

Gritting her teeth, forcing her breathing to remain even, calm, she busied herself picking up a stack of papers from her desk and thumbing through them, reminding herself that she’d likely be thrown in the brig if she didn’t get her emotions under control. How could he say that after…after…?

“Well, I have forgotten,” she lied for pure self-preservation. “We were never friends. You’re just some joker who had a laugh at my sister’s and my expense and walked away from my family without a backward glance.”

“Amelia,” he began, then sighed, glanced over his shoulders down the narrow corridor leading off the sick ward to the office. When his gaze met hers next, steely determination had settled in. “We need to talk.”

She crossed her arms, glared. He wasn’t going to intimidate her if that’s what he was trying to do. “Was the surgical suite not to your satisfaction?”

“I haven’t been satisfied in years, Amelia.”

“Call me Dr Stockton.” She emphasized each word. “And I fail to see what your lack of satisfaction has to do with me.”

“Don’t you?” he asked softly, laughing with more than a hint of irony.

“Go away.” She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. How dared he bring that up, that crazy night, weeks after the non-wedding, when he’d come to see her and she’d eventually sent him packing? Besides, if he was trying to tell her he hadn’t been with anyone for two years, she’d never believe him. Not in a million years. Which meant he was trying to play her for a fool. Again. She touched the desk, running her fingers over the smooth surface, collecting her wits before glancing up. “I never wanted to see you again.”

“You made that obvious.”

“Yet here you stand,” she needlessly pointed out, riffling through papers as if she was bored with their conversation. Truth was, she needed to get away from him, needed to breathe. She couldn’t breathe with Cole standing so close, with him eyeing her with such intensity.

“Unless orders come stating otherwise, I’m here for the full deployment. Dr Lewis has been assigned landside.”

Six months. That was the usual duration of a surgeon on board a ship. Anything longer than that and their surgical skills might become rusty. Their usual days consisted of elective procedures such as vasectomies or ingrown toenail extractions, with the occasional gallbladder and appendix removal thrown in for good measure. Usually nothing as intense as working in a hospital setting like Cole must be used to.

“Good for you.” She kept her tone level but, as she had for much of the day, inside she screamed. Loud and fierce and full of frustration.

Six months she was stuck working with him. Six whole months. Fine. She could do anything for six months. She was a Stockton.

“Which means we need to work through your anger for me.”

She glanced up, met his gaze. “There’s nothing to work through.”

“You don’t hate me?” He didn’t look convinced. “Because I’m picking up pretty strong vibes that you’d like to dump me overboard.”

He was picking up on that, was he? Good, maybe he’d take the hint.

“You don’t rate that much of my thoughts.” Liar, liar, pants on fire, but she couldn’t admit that she’d thought of him often during the past two years.

Way too often.

“You’ve forgiven me?” He looked skeptical.

“For breaking my sister’s heart and making a mockery of her the night before her wedding?” she asked, laughing cynically. For making me look at you with stars in my eyes and breaking my heart right along with Clara’s? Never. “One thing you should know about us Stocktons, we’re a loyal bunch. We look after our own and don’t take kindly to anyone who messes with our family.”

“I remember. You have an exceptional family.” He smiled as if from fond memories. “Your father is one of the greatest men I’ve ever met.”

“Yes, he is.” No one was more dependable or loyal than her father and Amelia loved him with her whole heart. He deserved her love because a finer man had never lived. John Stockton ruled with an iron fist and expected everyone to jump to his tune. Everyone did, all the Stockton children included. “He thinks you’re a piece of no-good trash.”

Cole flinched, but she felt no pleasure that her barb had hit home. She should be pleased, should want him to feel as much pain and remorse as humanly possible for the cruel way he’d treated her family.

Yet all she felt was the desire to be far away from him, to actually still be in her bunk, fast asleep, to wake up and find Cole’s presence on board to be a horrible nightmare rather than her current reality.

Tiring of whatever game he played, she took a deep breath. “What is it you want, Dr Stanley?”



You, Cole thought, reeling at how forcefully the thought hit him.

He had always wanted Amelia.

For two years she’d haunted him, showing up in his thoughts, featuring in his dreams. Knowing that at their last meeting she’d professed to hate him until the day he died, well, Cole had tried to forget her.

After all, even if she didn’t hate his guts, it wasn’t as if they could have a relationship. He’d been less than twenty-four hours from getting married to her sister and her family thought he was a heel.

Perhaps he was. Because when he’d watched Maid of Honor Amelia walk down the aisle during his wedding rehearsal, he’d wished he was marrying her, not Clara. For months, he’d tried to tell himself he was only have pre-wedding jitters, that he was being a fool, but when their eyes had met, his heart had gone into a mimicry of atrial fibrillation, fluttering like crazy and making him feel light-headed.

When the rehearsal had ended he’d gone outdoors, had had to have a moment to himself, to breathe, to process his thoughts, to figure out how he was going to tell Clara that he couldn’t marry her, that he loved her, but not in the way he should, not with passion.

Amelia had followed him.

“Cole? Are you okay?”

He’d wanted to touch her. To pull her to him and let her heat warm him. He’d closed his eyes, fisted his fingers and nodded.

When he’d opened his eyes, she’d moved closer.

“Go back inside, Amelia.”

But she hadn’t. She’d lifted her hand, run her fingers across his cheek, slowly, tenderly. He’d trembled. Trembled like a schoolboy being touched by a goddess.

“Tell me what just happened,” she’d prompted, her palm caressing his face.

Cole swallowed, reminding himself that he had to break things off with Clara, that as much as he wanted this moment, he couldn’t grab it. Not until he’d told Clara the truth. That he couldn’t marry her.

“We had the wedding rehearsal.”

She studied him with those adorable chocolate eyes he loved to see dance with laughter. They weren’t laughing now. No, they were staring up at him with great emotion shining in their depths. Emotion for him. “Are you having second thoughts about tomorrow, Cole?”

God, she was fearless, plunged ahead into dark waters without the slightest hesitation, knowing it was her Godgiven right as a Stockton to conquer the world.

“We shouldn’t be having this conversation.” Not yet.

“Why not?”

Had she moved closer or had he? Either way, mere millimeters separated their mouths. Her warm breath brushed his lips and need, hot and heavy, consumed him.

Need that he was tired of denying, tired of fighting.

“Because of this.” He’d foolishly closed the minuscule distance, devoured her mouth with his, held on to her as if she were his only lifeline.

In that moment, she was the heat that warmed the cold numbness in his veins. Time had stopped and all that existed was the two of them.

Unfortunately, the moment ended all too quickly. Ended when Amelia pulled back, stared up at him with wonder and shock in her eyes. “Cole?”

“That shouldn’t have happened.” Not before he had the chance to break things off with Clara. “I need to talk to your sister.”

He’d stepped back, determined to go find Clara, to put a stop to the events unfolding, then paused at the horrified look on Amelia’s face.

“But, Cole, I…” She hesitated. “You…” Her fingers closed on his biceps, clamping down as if for support. “You can’t, Cole. You kissed me. Me.”

“Amelia.” He raked his fingers through his hair, searching for the right words to tell her that somewhere along the line he’d fallen for her, but had denied his feelings even to himself for far too long. “This is complicated.” Such an understatement. “Wait for me. Let me talk to Clara and wait for me.”

Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth. “Are you getting married tomorrow, Cole? Tell me.”

“No, I’m not getting married tomorrow.” He’d tipped her chin toward him, pressed another kiss to her upturned lips. “Promise me that you’ll wait. I’ll explain everything.”

Because he’d had to talk to Clara first, to put a stop to their wedding, to be free to tell Amelia that it was her smile that warmed his soul.

Only, when he found Clara, she was crying, something he’d never seen her do. Never seen any Stockton do. He was hit with horrendous guilt, thinking she’d seen him and Amelia, had overheard what he’d said. She hadn’t.

Instead, she’d had similar realizations to his own and didn’t want to get married any more than he did. It seemed they’d both been hanging on to something that hadn’t existed, something neither of them had wanted, but each hadn’t wanted to hurt the other because they truly did love one another—just not in the way a man and woman should love the person they were going to marry.

He hadn’t been able to refuse her one request, to leave immediately without explaining to anyone why they’d decided to call the wedding off. But that one request had cost him more than Clara could imagine.

“I’m busy,” Amelia practically growled, making Cole refocus on the present, on the fact he stood on the USS Benjamin Franklin wanting to finish what he and Amelia had started years ago, wanting the fulfillment of the promises in her eyes when she’d looked at him that night. “So if there’s something you want…”

He itched to reach out, to brush his fingers over her sleeked-back hair, to loosen the long silky strands from the tight bun at the base of her head. He wanted to know if she’d thought of him during the time since they’d last seen each other, if she remembered all the hours they’d spent together as friends, if she remembered the passion of their kisses.

“I want to put the past behind us.” He couldn’t have spoken truer words had he searched the Holy Scriptures.

“Fine, you want to put the past behind us.” Her melted-chocolate eyes narrowed with growing irritation. “But why would I want to do that? Why would I even care?”

Because not a day has gone by since I last saw you that you haven’t crossed my mind. For two years he’d waited, hoping she’d forgive him, hoping time would heal the rift, but she hadn’t forgiven him and he’d gotten tired of waiting.

He’d done what he’d said he wouldn’t do, what she’d asked him not to do before she’d kicked him out of her dorm. He’d come for her. This time, he wouldn’t let her push him away. Not when there were unresolved feelings between them. One way or another, they would deal with the chemistry between them.

“We’re going to be working closely together for the next few months, Amelia.”

Her upper lip rose in an almost snarl at his use of her first name. He should call her Dr Stockton, but changing how he thought of her wasn’t going to be easy.

“If we don’t come to some sort of understanding, it’ll affect our jobs,” he told her honestly, knowing they did have to come to an understanding until they dealt with the past and appealing to her professionalism. “Neither of us wants that.”

“You’re the ship’s surgeon. I’m the general medical officer. You stay in your surgical suite, and I’ll stay in my sick ward.” Her gaze burned into him, searing him with her hatred.

Hatred he deserved in her eyes.

“Our paths don’t have to meet often,” she continued. “When they do, we’ll pretend we don’t see each other. No big deal.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to pretend he didn’t see her.

He wanted to see her. Lots of her. All of her.

Every delectable inch of her. Right here. Right now.

Wrong. He couldn’t do that even if she begged him to. He couldn’t kill his career. Sexual relations were strictly forbidden aboard ship and most often punished with a dishonorable discharge.

Hadn’t he wanted time for him and Amelia to get to know each other outside the parameters of their former relationship? Hadn’t he wanted time to win her trust before they acted on the physical chemistry? Wasn’t that why he was here? He needed to focus on the here and now. On work. On building bridges with Amelia, not getting her into bed.

“I’ll expect to consult with you on cases, Dr Stockton. I’ll expect to help when the sick ward is busy, and I’m not in surgery. Don’t be naïve in thinking we can easily avoid each other,” he warned. “Our paths are going to meet often.”

He’d see to it.

Her lips pursed in displeasure. “As I said, we’ll just pretend not to see each other.”

Frustration surged through him.

“No.” Hell, no. Seeing Amelia was why he was here.

Her brow quirked upward. “No?”

“Under the senior medical officer, I’ll be next in command in the medical division,” he pointed out. “I won’t have the GMO pretending not to see me. How would that look?”

“Who cares?”

“I care.” Cole’s comment stemmed from professionalism as much as personal desire.

“Afraid it might hurt your precious career?”

His career? Yes, suddenly he was afraid that being here, with her, might hurt his career. They needed forced time together, but just being near her again made reason fly out the door.

“I did mention that our not working as a cohesive team could hurt our careers,” he reminded her. “Mine and yours. But I’m more afraid not working together will compromise our patients’ health and the working environment of our colleagues.”

True, but not the whole truth.

Her full lips compressed into a defensive bow. “I would never purposely compromise one of my patients or my crew.”

“If you’re unwilling to discuss cases with me because of the past, you might make the wrong choice regarding whether or not a person needs a surgical consult.”

“Were you not listening? I just said that I wouldn’t compromise my patients’ health. If a patient needs a surgical consult, I’ll send him or her to you.” Her gaze narrowed, nonverbally telling him where he could go and that she’d love to shove him down the elevator shaft to take him there. “Got it?”

“Amelia—” At her glare, he sighed. “Dr Stockton,” he began again, wishing he knew what to say to mend the bridges he’d had to burn. He hadn’t had a choice.

“For whatever it’s worth.” He kept his voice steady, held her gaze even though looking away would have been easier than seeing the contempt burning in her brown eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened with Clara. I never meant to hurt her.”

Amelia’s pupils dilated and she failed to hide the pain that flashed across her face.

Pain that he’d caused.

Almost immediately a frigid glare replaced her hurt.

“And what you did to me?” she asked, studying him with eyes he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in. She would likely never forgive him, never let her guard down. “Are you sorry for that, too, Dr Stanley?”

“More than I can say.”

Maybe, just maybe, a six-month stint with her would give him the chance to put right a few wrongs from his past.




Chapter Three


“Wow, you’re really working up a sweat today,” Suzie, one of the two on board dentists and Amelia’s bunk mate, commented when she climbed onto the elliptical machine next to Amelia.

“You’ve no idea,” she mumbled, knowing she’d already beaten her best time on the exercise equipment by several minutes, yet still she pushed on. Faster and faster, drops of moisture running down her face, between her breasts, causing her sports bra to stick to her like a damp second skin.

Truth was, even if she weren’t on a stationary machine, all her efforts would be for naught.

Some things couldn’t be run away from.

Like Cole.

From the time she could walk, Amelia had faced life head-on. With one exception. Cole. Until the night before her sister’s wedding. As the maid of honor, she’d walked up the aisle toward him and been filled with longing. Longing she’d had no right to feel. Longing that had almost stopped her in mid-step.

She’d always been a bit in love with her sister’s perfect fiancé, had always hoped to meet a man like Cole someday. But during the rehearsal, when their eyes had met, she’d seen something she’d only caught glimmers of previously.

She’d seen matching attraction. Cole had wanted her. And not in a way a soon-to-be married man should want another woman, especially his bride-to-be’s little sister. He’d looked at her the way some dark, secret, forbidden part of her had always wanted him to look at her. He’d looked at her as if she were the most desirable woman in the world and he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to stand in her presence, to see her walking down the aisle toward him.

Which was ridiculous.

She wasn’t his bride-to-be, wasn’t desirable. But even now she could recall the way he’d stared at her, and the way her heart had pounded in response to his burning blue gaze.

“Um, Amelia.” Suzie interrupted her thoughts. “You want to talk about whatever’s eating you before that machine starts smoking?”

Amelia slowed her pace a few notches, dragged air into her protesting lungs and shrugged. Her bunk mate would prise the truth out of her eventually. By being up-front, perhaps she’d waylay her friend’s naturally suspicious nature and avoid questions she didn’t have answers to. “My sister’s ex-fiancé is the new surgeon. I don’t like him.”

Two simple sentences that held a world of complexity and heartache.

Suzie programmed her stair machine to her preferred workout routine. “Ouch. That sucks.” Her gaze flickered past Amelia to the workout area entrance. “Is he really, really drop-dead gorgeous?”

Amelia glared. “What do you mean, is he drop-dead gorgeous? What does it matter what he looks like? He’s a creep who broke my sister’s heart.”

Who broke my heart.

“Never mind. He is or you’d have said so.” Her friend’s lips curled into a smile that flashed pearly whites that would make all her dental professors proud, her gaze still focused beyond Amelia toward the entranceway. “Besides, I see for myself, and I agree. He is really, really drop-dead gorgeous. Amazing eyes and that body—oh, my. Somebody should slap a warning label on that man’s forehead because just looking at him may send me into cardiac arrest.”

Amelia battled to keep from looking toward the door. Cole was there? In the workout room? Why? Well, she knew why. A man didn’t have a body like his without being active.

“I might not have guessed it was him except he’s new. No way would I not have noticed if Tall, Dark and Yummy had ever been in this room before.” Suzie gave a smug smile, gliding back and forth on her elliptical machine with practiced ease. “Plus, he walked in, scanned the room and paused when his gaze settled on my very own Little Miss Sunshine.”

Cole was looking at her? Why? Ready for round two? Or was it three? Please don’t let him be looking, because even after two years and a million attempts to compartmentalize what had happened between them, she still felt ill prepared on how to deal with Cole. Was he still looking? She was not going to check. She wasn’t. She didn’t even want to.

Much.

And then only to glare.

“He’s still looking, by the way.” Suzie’s voice held a teasing quality. “Just in case you were wondering.”

The heat spreading across her cheeks had nothing to do with her friend’s knowing snicker. Overdoing it on the elliptical was why her face burned. Really.

“Don’t stare,” she ordered in the sternest tone she could manage, trying to keep her pace on the stair machine casual rather than returning to her frantic break-neck speed on a new wave of adrenaline. Why the heck had she pushed herself to the point her limbs were water? To the point her black gym clothes clung to her body? To the point her face was on fire? “He might think we’re talking about him.”

“Honey,” Suzie said, her eyes still eating Cole up, “he’s used to women talking about him. Has to be. That is one fine specimen of man. Looking at him makes my tongue want to wag and I’m not ashamed to say so.”

“Hello. The man broke my sister’s heart into a billion pieces,” Amelia reminded her, not mentioning her own billion-pieced heart.

Suzie’s gaze reluctantly returned to Amelia. “What happened? Give me the gory details so I can look beyond his lip-smacking exterior to the disgusting bastard filling.”

The gory details? That might be a bit of a problem. Amelia didn’t know the specifics. Even in the midst of a crying jag, Clara hadn’t offered the whole story. Afraid of what her sister might say as to the reasons Cole had called off the wedding, Amelia hadn’t pushed for the full details.

“They were engaged to be married. Following their rehearsal, he decided he didn’t want to be married after all and left.” How could her words sound so calm? So just stating the facts? She was talking about an event that had forever changed her sister’s life. He’d made Clara weak. Her, too. “Clara was devastated.”

Amelia had been, too. And guilty. Had her questioning him on the way he’d looked at her when she’d walked up the aisle, their amazing kiss that shouldn’t have happened, played a role in Cole calling off his wedding? Of course it had. She’d unwittingly sabotaged her sister’s happiness. Oh, yeah, she’d lived with guilt.

“I see why.” As if she couldn’t resist, Suzie’s eyes shifted toward where Cole warmed up by stretching his long limbs.

Amelia’s traitorous gaze played follow the leader to Cole, not content to only see him in her peripheral vision.

He wore gray cotton gym shorts that loosely hung to mid-thigh, riding up to reveal well-defined quads when he touched the tips of his tennis shoes. A white cotton T-shirt with “NAVY” emblazoned across the front caressed his thick chest. He straightened, reached high over his head, his shirt hem riding up to reveal a sliver of toned abdomen.

Suzie sighed with great appreciation. “If I’d thought I was going to spend the rest of my life curled up in bed next to that and suddenly found out I wasn’t, I’d be devastated, too.”

“Be serious,” Amelia snapped, wanting to physically drag her friend’s eyeballs away from Cole, practically having to do the same to keep her own gaze from bouncing around like an overeager puppy wanting another glimpse of tanned flesh. Did he know they were talking about him? “There’s more to a man than the way he looks.”

“Yeah, but when a man looks like he does, a girl can forgive a lot of flaws.” Suzie sighed, moving her arms back and forth in motion with the handlebars, her workout making her sound slightly breathless.

Or maybe it was Cole making her friend breathless.

“I can’t forgive his flaws.” Amelia refused to be so superficial. She’d once been fooled by his in-your-face male magnetism and charm. Never again would a man weaken her that way.

“Yeah.” Her friend nodded in agreement. “But you’re made of fortified Stockton steel and only have an Achilles’ heel for stray kittens.”

“Stray kittens?” Amelia scowled. “I do not.”

“Sure, you don’t,” Suzie teased, knowing Amelia well enough, unfortunately, to push her buttons. “If you lived inland you’d have a yard full of fuzz-balls, and you know it.”

Would she? Amelia rarely thought of what her life would be like if she weren’t in the military. Not that she’d ever considered doing anything other than military medicine. She hadn’t. It’s what their family did. Her father had been a surgeon with the navy, her mother an air force nurse.

“I don’t even like cats,” she protested half under her breath. She’d actually never had a pet to know if she’d like a cat or not. Growing up in a military family where they’d lived either on base or with whatever relative could look after them while their parents served their country, they’d moved too often to accumulate pets. Or close friends. Was that why she’d latched onto Cole? Had treasured their friendship so much?

“Don’t look now, but something else you don’t like is headed this way.” Suzie slid a sly look her way. “Or should I say someone?”

Before she could stop, Amelia glanced toward where Cole had been stretching. Her gaze collided with his vivid blue eyes. His lips curved upward in an amiable, hopeful smile and her breath caught in a way no exercise equipment could ever induce.

In a way that was pure Cole Stanley breathless.

She almost agreed with Suzie. A woman could forgive a multitude of sins when a man looked like Cole. It would be easy to get caught in his charm, in the warmth of his smile, the intensity of his azure eyes, the lure of his friendly demeanor. He wasn’t her friend, though.

In that moment, Amelia hated Cole. Hated him for hurting her family, hated him for whatever it was that seeing him did to her insides, hated him for turning her brain to mush by merely slanting his gorgeous mouth upwards.

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

That was one emotion she could never feel for Cole.



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They’d crackled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She told me.”

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

“About her sister and you? Yep.”

That surprised him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His gaze went back again to where Amelia curled a free weight, her muscles flexing beneath her sleek skin.

“At least that’ll be one person in your room who likes me.”

But if the way Amelia kept casting surreptitious glances toward him was anything to go on, she felt the chemistry between them that hadn’t let up with time and distance.

He understood she was confused. Understood her dislike of him. Understood she was going to combat the underlying attraction between them.

Cole was ready for the fight of his lifetime and when all was said and done, he’d win Amelia’s forgiveness.

The stakes were too high not to win.




Chapter Four


COLE had been on board the USS Benjamin Franklin for two weeks and had fallen into a routine. He scheduled procedures early morning, finished in the surgery suite on most days by ten, and then hung out in the sick ward “helping” until all patients had been examined.

Amelia could do without his kind of help.

His kind of help distracted her.

Made her feel as if she were in need of a doctor herself.

Tachycardia, shortness of breath, dizziness, flushing, mental cloudiness, thick tongue, tingling breasts.

Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic that he was having such an effect on her body. Her breasts did not tingle. It was more like an itch. And not the kind she needed scratched. At least, not that kind of scratching. No, it was more the allergic-to-jerks, stay-away-from-me type of itch. A reaction one had when something was harmful to their health. Yeah, right.

“I heard Dr Carter—” the other medical doctor on board “—wasn’t feeling well and you’re by yourself. Need my help?”

Think of the devil and there he was, looking way too handsome in his scrubs. His stethoscope dangled around his neck and he looked the picture of good health. Not like he’d barely slept for the past two weeks because of a disturbing presence from his past. Irritated that she was the one looking like the walking dead, she gritted her teeth.

“No.” What she needed was him off her ship so she could get back to her regularly scheduled life program.

“Fine.” His smile never faltered.

No matter how many times she cut him off, he just kept smiling, kept being nice, kept coming back for more. He was driving her crazy, making her remember too many of the reasons she’d fallen under his spell to begin with.

“I’ll see who’s in triage and take care of whoever I can.”

During his short time on board, Cole had gained the respect of the medical crew by jumping in to help wherever needed. He triaged patients, took blood pressures, gave shots, whatever.

Not only had he gained the crew’s respect, he’d gained their friendship. Everyone liked him. Except Amelia.

“Hey, Dr Stockton, is it okay if Dr Stanley uses bay two? He’s going to repack an abscess.”

Cole stepped back into the sick bay, holding a triage sheet. Having heard Richard’s question, he glanced at her, seemingly waiting for her approval. As if what she said made any difference whatsoever. Along with Richard and the rest of the crew, the senior medical officer thought Cole was the greatest thing since butter on toast.

Amelia had thought the same once upon a time. During medical school she’d idolized him, had viewed Cole as the perfect man. Funny, generous, intelligent, handsome, charming, compassionate. Had she not loved Clara so much she might have resented her sister’s perfect life. Beautiful inside and out, Clara had held Cole’s heart from nearly the moment they’d met. Only, in the end, Cole had kissed Amelia and walked away from both women.

“If that’s okay?” he added to the corporal’s request.

“Fine.” She turned away, knowing she was unnecessarily brusque yet unable to bring herself to show any grace. If she gave Cole an inch, he’d take a foot. She had to keep her distance for her own peace of mind, from loyalty to her sister.

Clara, whom she hadn’t been able to tell that Cole was on her ship despite their e-mails. Clara, who had volunteered for yet another crazy assignment. Clara, whose notes sounded so unlike the woman she’d once been while engaged to Cole.

Oh! She despised what he’d done to her big sister and she clung to that like a drowning woman clutching a life preserver.

“There’s a positive strep throat in bay one,” Tracy said, snagging Amelia’s thoughts back to where she was washing her hands.

She’d scrubbed so hard she was surprised to still see skin.

Drying her hands, she nodded at the nurse. “Thanks.”

Tracy’s face twisted in thought then she pulled Amelia aside. Under her breath, she quickly spoke. “I wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t your friend, but the whole crew has picked up on your…not hostility but a definite lack of friendliness toward Dr Stanley.”

“And?” Amelia fought to keep her face emotionless. As she’d told Cole on that first day, she wouldn’t let her animosity toward him interfere with the care of her patients. In her mind, she’d stuck to that. She may not like him, but she was doing her best to be professional. She’d even set up several patients to see him during his stint thus far. Obviously, however, she hadn’t done such a great job of hiding her feelings from the crew, which truly did affect both their jobs.




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