A Darker Shade of Dead (7 page)

“I'm all right, doctor.” His lips thinned and tightened. She took that as a sign he was lying—or at least minimizing the problem.

“It's okay, Commander. I can help, if you'll let me. You don't have to suffer in silence, and I won't report any minor treatment I may give you. I won't get you in trouble with the personnel office if your injury is worse than you want them to believe.”

He stopped short on the path and turned to look at her. His expression was hard to read.

“You'd lie for me?”

He seemed to be testing her, and she didn't like it. A shiver ran down her spine.

“I wouldn't lie. But I also am under no obligation to report casual treatment of personnel not directly related to the contagion. If I gave any of the non-immune personnel an aspirin for a headache, I wouldn't have to report it. Same goes here. If you need some therapeutic massage to ease the pain in your spine, I see no reason to have to report it. On the other hand, if I discover you've done serious damage to yourself, I would strongly advise you to seek your orthopedist, which would put you back in proper military channels. No harm, no foul.”

He seemed to consider her words, his eyes narrowing and his expression unreadable.

“Neat and tidy.” He stared at her for a moment longer before beginning to walk again, this time at a slower pace. “All right. I'll let you examine my back, but that's all. It's been worse than usual of late, and it would be reassuring to know what's going on back there, but you were correct to assume I didn't want to take the chance of being put out of commission because of my injury while all this is going on.” He sighed heavily. “If it put the mission in danger, I'd take myself out of the picture in a heartbeat, but I'm riding a desk now. I can't see how a bad back would make a difference in how I perform my current assignment.”

“That's reasonable,” she allowed. “And for what it's worth, I agree. You're needed here, Commander. You're the glue that makes this whole weird team stick together and work. I can't envision anyone else in charge of this mission.”

“Me neither.” He smiled for the first time, just a slight hint of a grin at one corner of his mouth as he slanted a look down at her. “So where do you want to do this?”

“My lab? I have diagnostic equipment there we could use if we need it, and nobody gets in without me letting them in. We'll have privacy.”

Matt nodded. “Okay, but I'm on a schedule. About how long do you think it'll take?”

“An examination shouldn't take more than fifteen or twenty minutes. Treatment will depend on what I find.”

“Fair enough.”

He turned with her toward the walk that led directly to her lab rather than staying on the main path. Within minutes they entered her laboratory.

 

“There's a cot in back here you can use.” She tossed her jacket on the lab bench and motioned for him to follow her toward the back room.

“I wondered why that was there when I inspected the place prior to your arrival.”

“Experiments can't tell time. Sometimes an incubation phase will run into the night and someone has to be here to take the samples off the heat, or to add a reagent at a particular time, or whatever else needs to be done. If you miss that window of opportunity, days' worth of work could be ruined. Better to catch forty winks in the lab with multiple timers to wake you than to chance getting snug in your bed somewhere else and sleeping through the critical moments.”

“Makes sense.” Matt looked around the small room at the back of the lab. There was an even smaller attached bathroom. The bedroom—if it could be called that—had just enough space for a twin-size bed and a small dresser complete with mirror.

“Take off your shirt.”

Matt jumped a little at the blunt request but quickly covered his surprise. He shouldn't have taken such simple words as some kind of sexual invitation. She was a doctor. She needed to see his back in order to assess the damage. It was a logical request. Too bad his body had gone into overdrive at the mere idea of getting even partially naked in front of her.

Because thoughts of taking off his clothes inevitably led to thoughts of her doing the same. Man, he had it bad. He wanted to see her creamy skin and learn if that dusting of faint freckles on her cheeks could be found in other interesting places on her luscious body. He wanted to learn the color of her nipples, their shape and taste, and if she was as sensitive to his touch as he hoped. He wanted to feel her softness under his hands and against his body. He wanted to drive into her so that she would never forget the merging of their two bodies into one.

He wanted…the impossible.

“Don't be shy, Commander. I'm a doctor.” She gave him a teasing smile as she turned away, and he realized he'd been standing there, mute, as she bustled around the room, bringing in basic supplies from just outside the door. “I'm going to get the ultrasound machine. Take off your shirt and lie face down on the bed. I'll be back in a minute.”

Left alone, Matt shook his head at his unreasonable reaction. The forced intimacy of working together on the mats must have sent his libido into overdrive. She was the most attractive woman he'd ever met, but he really had to get himself under control.

So deciding, he shrugged out of his shirt and placed it neatly on the dresser next to…a bottle of lube?

Damn. There went his mind again, straight into the gutter. He'd better get face down on the bed before she saw the way his erection tented his pants.

He scrambled for the cot as she rolled a boxy piece of equipment into the small room. She squeezed between it and the bed as he watched.

“Scoot over a bit, if you can. I'll have to sit on the side of the bed to make this work. There's not enough room in here. Sorry.”

She sounded enticingly apologetic as he moved to the far edge of the bed. He felt the other side dip when she sat beside him, their hips connecting, sharing warmth on the small bed.

“How many surgeries did you have?” Her offhand question was the only warning he got before her fingers landed on his skin.

He had scars. He knew they were there. Enough doctors had looked at them over the years since his injury and subsequent treatment. But he'd never felt anything like this. Sandra's touch sent fire through him. A cleansing, burning flame of desire that went straight to his cock.

“Matt?” Her soft voice called him back. “I can see at least three separate surgical scars here. It must've been bad. Did you have only the three surgeries, or more?”

“Just three,” he managed to choke out as her fingers traced lightly along the edges of scar tissue. He couldn't feel everything because of the puckered, damaged flesh, but he certainly felt enough. He did his best not to squirm as she examined his scars.

“How did this happen?” She must have bent closer because he could feel her breath wafting across his skin as she spoke.

“I fell off a building and landed on my ass in the dirt.” He didn't go into detail about which particular Middle Eastern hellhole that damned domed building had been in, and luckily she didn't ask. Even after all this time, details about most of his prior missions were still top secret.

“Fractured vertebra or ruptured disk?”

“Both.” He grunted as she probed with her fingers in a sensitive place. “Lucky me.”

“Sorry.” She eased the pressure. “How many guys did it take to carry you out of there?”

“None. The situation was hot. I shuffled out on my own. To be honest, the adrenaline blocked the pain till we were back on the boat.”

“Ooh rah,” she said quietly, as if distracted by her examination. “Brace yourself. I'm going to squirt some gel on the small of your back for the ultrasound. It will probably feel chilly at first. Sorry.”

That was all the warning he got before a line of cold lube was laid down on his flesh. Now the bottle that had sent his mind into the gutter made sense. A moment later, the broad head of the ultrasound wand was pressed into his back, spreading the lube out and around the site of his old surgeries.

“I can't see too much with this tool, but some of the soft tissue damage should be apparent. I'd need an MRI to know more.”

“It's just a little residual pain. Nothing I haven't felt before. I don't think I need an MRI.” The last thing he wanted to do was get the attention of the docs who'd have to report changes in his condition.

“Let me be the judge of that, okay?” She continued to move the wand around on his back. He looked over his shoulder to see her watching the little screen on the machine next to his bed.

She hit a few of the buttons every few seconds and made some prints of certain areas. He couldn't see much more than a black and gray blur on the screen, but she seemed to find it fascinating. After a few minutes she gave a satisfied sigh and shut down the machine. She took a moment to wipe the residual lube off his skin before sitting back.

He rolled carefully to his side to look up at her, propping his head on one hand. “So what's the verdict?”

“It doesn't look too bad. I don't see any evidence of further rupture in the same area. On a scale of one to ten, what level is the pain you're experiencing?”

“Minimal. Maybe a two or three,” he answered at once. She didn't look like she believed him. “Okay, maybe a little higher when I bend the wrong way.” She still didn't seem satisfied with his answer, so he rolled and sat up in the bed, bringing himself awfully close to her.

Her eyes widened and zeroed in on his abdomen. She looked panicked, and he realized with a little thrill of masculine ego that she wasn't as unaffected by him as he'd thought. He'd done his best to keep the washboard abs of his youth, and he swore the flush on her pretty cheeks was a sign she'd noticed. Damn.

How was he supposed to resist her if she wasn't as immune to him as he'd believed? What if she welcomed his advances? What if she was as hungry for him as he was for her?

Damn it all to hell and back. He was about to find out.

Leaning in, he watched her reactions closely. Her breathing sped up, the blush on her cheeks increased, and she didn't meet his eyes. She also didn't move. As he invaded her personal space, she remained still as a statue…waiting.

“Look at me, doc,” he whispered, nudging her chin gently upward with one knuckle.

Her green eyes were mysterious as she raised her gaze to meet his.

“What do you want me to say?”

Confrontation. He hadn't expected that. She took the bull by the horns and faced him head on. He liked her spirit.

“Just tell me the truth, Sandra. Are you feeling this, too?”

She seemed to consider her options. He could see the idea of flight flash through her mind only to be negated by something softer and more daring.

“I feel it,” she whispered.

He felt as if they were on a precipice. One false step and they'd both be lost. He wouldn't let that happen. He wanted her to want the same things he did. He wanted her to be lost to the same madness he was feeling. He shouldn't. He knew damn well he shouldn't. But it was already too late. This train was racing down the track. Destination unknown.

“Well then.” He moved his hand from under her chin to cup her cheek. “I guess the only question then is, what do we do about it?”

“Who says we have to do anything about it?” She didn't move away, but she didn't move closer, either, much to his frustration.

Her challenging words brought out the warrior in him. He didn't want to let her escape. Not when he was so close to discovering something vital. He didn't know what, but he felt in his bones that whatever it was, it could be key to his very existence. He couldn't let her go now.

“No way, sweetheart. I'm not letting you out of this that easy. Despite all the reasons I thought I had for ignoring this…thing…between us, I can't. Not now. Not when you've admitted you feel it, too. I don't know exactly what it is or where it will lead, but I can't let it go now.”

“Then you've answered your own question.” He read acceptance in her eyes. He wasn't thrilled with the lukewarm response, but he'd take it if that was all he could get.

Dammit. She wasn't going to get away with it. Not if he had anything to say about it. He was about to force her hand when she pulled away from him.

 

Sandra had to make a hard decision. Either go with the incredible feelings Matt stirred in her or reject them and stick to her plan. Such as it was.

It really was a stupid plan. What sort of red-blooded female would pass up the opportunity to be with an incredible guy like Matt, even if only for a short time? A crazy one, that's who. Certifiably insane. There was no doubt about it.

She was going to do it. She was going to reject him. It was probably the most foolish thing she'd ever done, but damn if she wasn't going to do it.

“I'm not comfortable with this, Matt.” She stood abruptly.

He backed off. “What exactly are you uncomfortable with? Is it me?”

She was tempted to say yes, but that wasn't right.

“It's not you. It's more who you are.” She squirmed under his scrutiny. “You're my boss.”

He flopped onto his back, sighing heavily as he stared up at the ceiling.

“I'm almost afraid to ask.” He looked from the ceiling to her. “Have you been hassled by men you worked with before? Because in no way do I want to hassle you, Sandra. Ever. That's not what this is about.”

“I'm flattered, Matt. Really.” She stood, pausing by the door. She couldn't do this anymore. One more minute in his presence and she'd give in—to hell with the consequences. “I need some space.”

She stepped through the door, but Matt's hand on her arm made her pause. His touch was gentle, but it stopped her in her tracks.

“I apologize if I misread anything—”