‘HOW’RE YOU FEELING this morning, Reece?’ Madison read the chart from overnight. ‘Everything’s looking good.’
‘Fighting fit, Captain.’ It was said with a chuckle. ‘Captain Lowe says I can go on patrol this morning.’
Sam was here already? And she’d thought she was early, skipping breakfast in the hope of avoiding him for a little longer. Last night’s revelations on her part had been a little too close for comfort and she wasn’t ready to see that understanding in his eyes again. ‘Is that so?’
‘Just kidding, Captain.’
‘I believe Captain Lowe is taking a patrol out to that old police building again. I’ll see that you’re fixed to join them.’
The private’s face dropped. ‘If you say so, Captain.’
Madison laughed. ‘Just kidding, Private. Have you had breakfast?’
‘Yes. Though not enough. Could do with some more bacon and eggs.’
‘I bet you could.’ She headed for the door, calling over her shoulder, ‘That’s a no from me.’
‘What are you saying no to?’ Sam stood in front of her, hands in pockets, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
‘Reece wants a second breakfast.’ The way the top of Sam’s fatigues moulded to his chest, defining that amazing shape, had her nipples in tingling peaks. He looked good enough to eat. She was hungry after all. But suddenly not for toast.
‘You look like you could eat two as well.’
Rolling her head from side to side, she tried to negate the cravings swamping her. ‘I’m fine,’ she muttered.
Let me out of here before I touch him, run my hands over that divine body.
‘You haven’t eaten.’
Didn’t say I had, but I want to.
Sam hadn’t finished. ‘You finished your run at six hundred hours, less than thirty minutes ago. Time only for a shower and to tidy your room, wouldn’t you agree, Captain?’
More than enough time to try out that body, Captain. Voices came from behind her, snapping her out of her wishful thinking. ‘You had nothing better to do than see who was out on the track this morning?’
‘I was finishing my run as you began yours.’
Which meant he’d been outside some time around four a.m. ‘Trouble sleeping, Sam?’
‘About as much as you. If I’m not mistaken, your lights were on at that hour.’
He wasn’t mistaken. But he might not know they’d been on for hours before that. ‘I was messaging home.’ And beating up the pillow, guzzling water, pacing the ten strides from wall to wall over and over. And thinking about Sam. Mostly thinking about him. She might’ve left him in the mess last night but his questions had followed her into her room and right into the short sleep she’d managed before waking up completely around two. Those blasted questions had still been there, coated in the husky tones of Sam’s voice. Rough, sexy, annoying, caring. Yeah, that about summed him up.
‘Go to breakfast, Madison. You’re not putting in a full day without eating properly. The heat is debilitating without starving yourself.’
She huffed at him. ‘You’re not my keeper. If I’m not hungry then I’m not hungry.’ Even to her that sounded petulant. But the thought of food had nausea rising up to the back of her throat, while the lack of sleep made her feel like something the dog had chewed and left on the side of the road. ‘I don’t always have breakfast, okay?’ she added for good measure, because she knew she was wrong to go without food.
It didn’t work. ‘Out here you do. We never know what’s going down from one hour to the next and we have to be prepared. That means having regular meals.’ His hands were on his hips now, his fingers pressing deep as he leaned towards her. ‘Comprendo?’
Very nice hips. Shaped the perfect body outline. His torso was all muscle. Basically he was a lean machine. The youthful softness she vaguely remembered had gone from his face, replaced with lines and knowledge. A fighting man, prepared for battle, as all the soldiers on base were. As she was. And if she had to go into battle—please make that a skirmish—she needed to be fully ready. Which meant breakfast. ‘You win.’ She turned away, intent on getting back here as quickly as possible.
‘Madison,’ Sam called after her.
Ignore him. She paused, faced him. ‘Sam.’ Her heart went wild, beating a rhythm all of its own, not one she recognised. But, then, she wasn’t at all familiar with the reactions that pelted her body whenever Sam was around. Phew, but it was hot in here.
He stood in the doorway, his hands back in his pockets in that, oh, so nonchalant manner of his. Which meant he was about to say something she mightn’t like. ‘I wasn’t trying to score points off you, merely looking out for you.’
Knock me over. Did I hear that right? Did she like that? Oh, yeah. She did. Lots. She melted, a slow sensation of warmth trickling through her belly, over her skin, encompassing her heart. With this man at her back she didn’t have to worry about a thing. But the days were running out and soon she’d be back to looking out for herself. Dipping her chin, she acknowledged, ‘See you in a bit.’ He didn’t need to know how his statement made her feel, but she could enjoy the warmth that molten sensation brought.
‘Don’t take too long. I hear there’s already a queue forming to see the new doctor.’ He flicked her a grin before heading away. He’d got the last word in. Again.
She didn’t care. Especially when he grinned in a sexy way that stirred up all sorts of sensations in places she really should keep under lock and key. The man was almost too good to be true. But she was never going to find out how good he was. Hot as—Yeah, so was the air around here. And her blood. Phew. The back of her hand slid across her forehead. How had she not noticed all this before?
There was only one way to control herself. Remember Jason and how he’d switched off from her the moment he’d seen her scars. Sure, he’d hung around for six months before asking for a divorce, but during that time he’d slept in the spare room—so as not to disturb her sleep apparently—and he’d never held her close or kissed her, or said he loved her. It had taken one look at her body for him to leave her mentally.
Madison chewed toast thoughtfully. She could not afford to forget that lesson. Not even for an hour of bliss.
‘Eggs sunny side up.’ The cook slid a plate in front of her.
‘Ta muchly,’ she said. Her stomach was in turmoil now. Could it handle eggs on top of that little shock she’d given it? But she did need to eat. Sam had been right about that.
Sam. Sam this, Sam that. Her second full day here had barely started and already he was taking over every thought process.
Hurrying through her eggs and coffee—which did stay in place—she returned to the medical block. A few hours working alongside the man would soon have her brain back in sync. He’d annoy her to bits and she’d be thinking what a pain in the butt he was. Not what a gorgeous sexy man he was, one she’d like to take to her bed and learn more about?
Shut up, brain.
Wasn’t your brain talking, it was your hormones.
* * *
Thank goodness for long queues of bored soldiers needing vaccination updates. The hours flew past without Sam getting under Madison’s feet too often. ‘What’s on after lunch?’ she asked him as they wrapped up the morning.
‘The commander’s letting some of the locals in for us to treat. They’ll be brought across in batches of four or five, depending on who the patient is and who’s with them.’
‘As in children and their parents?’ Woo-hoo, she was going to see people who needed more from her than all the morning’s soldiers put together had. ‘What can we expect?’
‘I’ll tell you after you’ve eaten lunch.’ She couldn’t tell from his poker face if he was joking or warning that the afternoon wasn’t going to be pleasant.
She’d go for the joke, and hope she was right. ‘That good, huh?’
‘You’re not always easy to wind up.’ Sam laughed.
A deep-bellied sound that curled her toes, and had her trying to think up things to say just to evoke more laughter. Nothing came to mind. ‘I used to be. Guess I’ve changed.’
The laughter died in his eyes. ‘People do, Maddy.’ Somehow he’d moved right up to her without appearing to shift. And now his hand was on her chin, his thumb softly caressing her jawline, back and forth, oh, so gently. Don’t stop. ‘I think it’s called life.’
He didn’t know the half of it. Couldn’t. Not unless he’d emailed someone back home, and that was unlikely. From what she’d learned these past few days, if Sam wanted to know something he asked outright. Anyway, who would he ask about her? He hadn’t kept in touch with anyone she knew.
‘So I’ve heard,’ she choked around a huge dollop of lust. That, unusually, was the stronger of the emotions roiling through her. Sam’s thumb was magic, eliciting all sorts of sensations to spread out from her chin. She was leaning towards him, against his hand, afraid he’d stop.
Maddy took a big step backwards, disappointment rising as Sam’s hand slid away. If he had her in such a twist from a mere thumb rub, what would...? Don’t go there. You’re never going to find out. Understand? Oh, yeah, she understood all right. One look in the mirror at her abdomen would give her all the brakes she needed and more. Unless she made a blindfold for him. A sharp laugh huffed across her lips, bitter in its taste. Sam really had got to her if she was coming up with such ridiculous ideas. ‘Right, lunch.’ She strode away without looking at him, for fear of melting on the spot.
* * *
‘I want to kiss Maddy.’ Sam could not drag his eyes away from her as she crossed the parade ground, heading for the mess. That butt was doing manoeuvres in her fatigues that had nothing to do with soldiering. Moves that had his hormones in a spin.
‘I’d wait until lights are out,’ Jock drawled from somewhere behind him.
Sam swore. Did I speak aloud? Take that as yes. ‘Shut up, Jock.’
‘Just saying.’ He nodded. ‘You going to tell Maddy what you just told the whole medic unit?’
‘What?’ Sam scanned the room. They were alone.
‘You’re running out of days to make good on your wish.’
‘That’s got to be a plus.’ Kissing Maddy would not be wise. Getting all wound up in knots of need would only make for a very uncomfortable flight back home. Not that there’d be any kissing. She wasn’t going to allow him close enough. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to stop at that. And he had to. No. He had to stop this daydreaming before acting on it. Not after.
Jock rubbed his belly. ‘Let’s go eat, man. We’ve got a fair whack of patients this afternoon and you know how frustrating that’s going to be.’
Wrong word, buddy. I’m frustrated already, and it has nothing to do with patients.
‘What made the boss agree to letting more people in today? It’s not like we haven’t fulfilled our quota for the week.’
The commander stuck to the rules when it came to allowing locals onto the base, even those with serious medical conditions. Something both Sam and Jock disagreed with. Helping those in need was integral with being doctors, but try explaining that to the commander and they’d find themselves doing more patrols than usual. The commander was the guy who’d take the fallout if anything went wrong, though.
‘No idea, and I’m not asking. He’s just as likely to change his mind.’
‘True.’ Sam sure as hell didn’t want those cute little kids missing out on treatment because he’d said something out of order. ‘Wonder how Maddy will cope with the clinic?’
‘You really have to ask that?’
‘No.’ Just making conversation. Of course her name had popped up unbidden. It seemed nothing he did banished her from his mind. She hadn’t crept in. She’d bashed her way into his mind, his dreams, his body. A groan escaped him. ‘Four days to go.’ And counting. Could he get beyond them without following through on the driving need turning him in an ever-decreasing circle? Without dealing to the almost overwhelming need to kiss her?
Only time would answer that one. Four days and counting.
* * *
‘They don’t cry when I touch their broken arms or infected sores.’ Madison was in shock. She’d seen children as young as two this afternoon and their stoic little faces had cut into her heart, making her want to wrap them up and take them home.
‘It has you wondering what else they’ve endured, doesn’t it?’ Sam held up an X-ray taken of a six-year-old boy’s arm Madison had handed him. ‘Both the ulna and radius are broken. Looks like blunt force trauma to me.’
‘His mother said he fell off the roof of their dwelling.’
‘His mother? Or the interpreter?’ Sam shrugged. ‘Remember, what’s most important is getting those bones set and on their way to mending. It’s all we can do.’
‘You’re right.’ But she didn’t have to like it. ‘You want a hand putting a cast on?’
‘Come and work your charm while I try not to hurt the poor little blighter.’ Sam nodded. ‘We’ll give him something for the pain first. Can’t stand to inflict any more than he’s already dealing with.’
Straightening those bones before applying a cast was going to be awful for the lad. And for them. ‘I think he’s underweight for his age, but I’m not sure what’s normal here.’
‘He very well could be. Any fever, cough, breathlessness?’
‘Not that I’ve noticed.’ And she would’ve. She’d done all the obs, and more. The boy had barely stirred as she’d poked and prodded as gently as possible. The only sign he was in distress was his big black eyes getting larger.
‘Let’s get this over so the wee guy can go home with his mum.’
‘How did they get here?’ She hadn’t seen any vehicles outside the camp since she’d arrived.
‘They walked.’ Sam held up his hand in a stop sign. ‘Don’t even say it. We are not allowed to give them a lift back to town, but sometimes it so happens a truck needs to go for some supplies just as people are trudging away from seeing us.’
‘Cool.’ Madison picked up the equipment to make a cast and followed Sam over to their patient, who lay curled up beside his mum. ‘We have to give Khalid an injection,’ she told the interpreter.
When the boy heard that from the interpreter he pushed harder against his mother but didn’t utter a sound. ‘I’ll try not to hurt you,’ Madison said in as soothing a voice as she could manage. Rubbing Khalid’s arm with her palm, she felt him tense, so continued to rub until he slowly relaxed. When she finally slid the needle into his muscle he didn’t blink, but who knew if that was because he hadn’t felt the prick or not.
Sam opened the top drawer of a cabinet by the bed. ‘Here you go, young man. A lollipop for being so brave.’
The small mouth slowly expanded into a smile as Khalid snatched his treasure from Sam’s fingers. His mother said something and the boy nodded at Sam.
‘I’m picking that’s thank you in Khalid-speak.’ Sam grinned briefly before working quickly to align the radius at the break.
‘Right, now for the messy bit.’ Madison spread a plastic cover over the bed and began to apply the cast. She wanted to work fast so Khalid would soon be out of his misery, but she also didn’t want to make the cast too tight or too loose, so he’d have to come back for a second attempt. ‘I can’t remember the last time I did one of these.’
‘Back to basics, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, and you know what? I’m enjoying it.’ Sometimes it was easy to forget the simple stuff, hand it over to a nurse and move on to the next surgery.
Sam said, ‘I’ve been watching you. You’ve enjoyed helping these people.’
‘I have.’
‘Don’t get too involved, Maddy. They’re not why we’re here. You’ve got to remember that. If you don’t you could find yourself in a dangerous position one day. Not everyone is as they seem out here.’
Go and spoil the moment, why don’t you? Even if you are right.
For a moment there she’d forgotten the military side of being here, had become lost in the medical world that was her first love. Swallowing the flare of annoyance his words had caused, she acquiesced. ‘You warned me of that the day I arrived.’
‘Think of Porky and his foot. That’s why we’re here. Not to get blown up but to defend the innocent. As an aside, we do what we can for the locals if time and safety permit.’ Serious Sam was as mesmerising as the other versions. Then his face softened and he totally had her attention. ‘I don’t ever want to hear that you’ve been injured while here, Maddy.’
Moisture filled her eyes. That had to be the nicest, kindest thing anyone had said to her in a long time. Her family had learned to keep those thoughts to themselves after she’d broken down one day saying they were undermining her efforts to be strong and capable alone. That had hurt them but since then they’d all tried hard to follow her wishes. Now, after a simple comment from Sam, nearly a stranger, she understood she’d been wrong. ‘I’ll be doing my damnedest to keep anyone, especially my family, from hearing any such news.’ Suddenly she missed her mum and dad, her sister and those nieces so much her arms ached to hold them and her heart slowed with sadness.
‘You’d better.’ Sam’s voice had become gruff, deeper and darker, full of an emotion she didn’t recognise. Maybe he cared more about what happened to people than he’d admit.
‘Sam?’
‘Better get on with the last patient.’ He quickly turned to snatch up a piece of paper from the nearest desk and headed to a man and his son, waiting quietly.
Sam was in a right old pickle. That page he’d grabbed was the score sheet from last night’s medics’ snooker contest, not notes about any patient. Maddy chuckled. Sam in a stew was like a small boy trying to decide which flavour ice cream he was going to have.
* * *
Downing his water, Sam nodded to the sergeant behind the bar. ‘Another thanks, Randy.’ No such thing as drinking too much water out here.
At long last the day was over, and unless, touch wood, there were any incidents during the night, he was free to do as he pleased. That did not include kissing Maddy, something that was becoming a bit of an obsession since the idea had first struck. No, he needed to find another way of letting his hair down and eliminating the pent-up needs keeping him on tenterhooks since he’d gone and told Madison he’d be worrying about her.
‘Up to some rock?’ Jock leaned a hip against the bar.
‘Exactly what I need.’ An hour getting lost in the guitar with the band would knock him into mental shape. ‘Boyse and Carter around somewhere?’ The drummer and xylophonist were integral to their band.
Jock, the voice and other guitarist, nodded. ‘They’re on their way over.’
‘Show time, then.’ Sam stood up. Friday nights in the officers’ mess were his favourite. He’d play his guitar and try to get lost in the music, something not always possible since the quality of music depended on who was stationed on base at the time. There’d been some clangers in the past all right but tonight he’d have no trouble getting immersed in the music.
As he settled on a stool and picked at the guitar strings, tightening two, he glanced across to the corner of the room where a group had gathered with Madison in the centre. Of course. Not that she looked overly comfortable, wasn’t putting on the charm or being too friendly with any of the men. When she glanced his way and met his gaze she nodded and gave him a knowing smile.
Knowing what? Racking his brain didn’t toss up any ideas of what that had been about.
‘You joining us?’ Jock nudged him.
‘Try and stop me.’ For the next half-hour Sam played whatever tune the other band members started, letting himself go in the rhythms of rock music. His mind was blank apart from the keys he played, the strings he strummed and picked. The music flowed over him, eased the tension he’d been carrying since Madison’s arrival on base.
Ah, Madison. Snap. The tension was back. He scanned the room. There. Parked on a stool, a soda in one hand, her feet tapping in time to the music, and a smile of pure happiness lightening her face. For the first time she appeared to have no worries in the world. Then she looked his way and stood up with a determined expression and placed her drink on the counter.
Now he remembered. ‘Hide the microphones.’ Last year at school. The senior’s social, Maddy and her pals on stage.
‘She can’t sing?’ Jock asked into the silence that came with the end of their current song.
Her voice had been strong, alluring, sweet, but having her up here beside him...? Not happening.
‘She doesn’t know a C scale from a fish scale.’
Don’t drop a bomb on me tomorrow for lying. If Maddy picked up a microphone he was leaving. One guitar down wouldn’t matter, the other guys could make great music without his input, while having her standing beside him, belting out words in a voice made for an angel, would stir him up even more. Wouldn’t matter if she was in tune or not.
‘Let’s do something heavier,’ Jock said, and started banging out another rock song.
Maddy’s face lit up some more, and that smile would now blind a city with its intensity. Her feet were done with tapping; now she was moving on the spot, her hips swaying and her arms moving above her head in time to the music.
Sam needed a drink—fast. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, his throat so dry he couldn’t even squawk along with Boyse’s singing. Just as well. The guys would fire him on the spot.
‘Get that down your throat.’ A can appeared in his line of vision.
He nodded thanks to Jock. Still couldn’t talk. How was it his mate seemed to know what was going on in his head almost as soon as he did? Damn but that cold liquid was good. Wet in the right places, cooled the heat in his throat, even tasted wonderful. Did absolutely nothing to chill down the heat tightening his groin.
‘Can I join in?’ Madison stood in front of him, that supple body the only thing his eyes could see.
Of course he nodded agreement; of course he did. Damn it.
Boyse called out the next song, and began the beat. Not a tune Sam had been expecting, but with a bit of luck it would be beyond Maddy. She’d sung the light girl band music that got everyone up dancing. He began playing his guitar, refusing to watch as she stepped between the guys to stand legs wide, head back and a microphone to her mouth. He did not see her lips almost swallow the mouthpiece. He did not feel apprehension and awe alternatively cool and heat his skin. No, not at all.
And then the first words came out of her mouth and Sam forgot to play, forgot where he was, forgot everything but Madison.
So much for thinking she couldn’t sing rock. She was rock. She owned the song, took it from ordinary to sensational. She moved with it, became it, striding, swaying, dancing from one edge of the band to the other and back again, her head tipped so far back it seemed impossible she wouldn’t crash into something or someone. Where was her long hair when he needed it to be hanging behind her?
He knew his mouth had fallen open and his eyes were wide, felt his lungs stall, his stomach sit still in shock, and the beat of his heart was so out of whack with the song it was awful.
What happened to sweet? What was spilling out of Maddy’s mouth was raw emotion. Deep, husky notes that played his senses like a bow on violin strings, that lifted goose bumps on his skin and sent prickles of heat down his spine. This was nothing like her speaking voice. She’d stepped into the song as though she’d experienced what was behind the words. Maybe she had. Maybe they’d hit on the one song she could relate to so deeply.
And then—And then she took it up a level. Sam’s gut tightened. Where did that come from? The drama behind the words filled the air, stopped everyone except the band in their tracks, drinks frozen in hands on tables or halfway to mouths. Sam’s guitar rested on his thighs, his fingers slack against the strings. He was beyond playing, had lost the ability to pick a tune. This was not a one off—Madison would sing every song as though she’d lived it.
As she proved again and again over the next thirty minutes. She had the room mesmerised. The guy behind the counter was out of a job while she sang. Sam reckoned every male fell in love with her during those loud, emotional, magical minutes.
But not him. Of course not. Somehow he finally managed to play his guitar, keep in tune and not look like a three-year-old with a plastic toy. Somehow he didn’t give Jock an elbow when he cocked a knowing eye at him and said, ‘If that’s not knowing her scales, what is it?’
Sam didn’t have an answer. What could he say that wouldn’t dig a bigger hole for him to fall into?
Four days and counting.