The Captain's Lady (4 page)

From the small pile on the left edge of the desk, he snapped up a report awaiting his approval. He flipped impatiently through the pages of information. Sighing in frustration, he threw it down while berating himself for allowing Abby to distract him. If this were one of the crew, he would take them to task and give a stern lecture on his responsibilities.

Pushing himself out of the chair, Eric strode through the doorway without a second glance at the unattended reports, now scattered across the desk. He cursed under his breath. The only way to regain some sense of control was to get the answers he so desperately needed. With a determined stride, he silently dared anyone to get in his way.

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Chapter Four

Eric pushed open the sickbay door and strode inside, giving a silent nod of acknowledgement to the tall, lanky guard posted outside the door. He turned to walk over to Abby and froze at the sight of her nestled on her side in one of the bunks. She was propped up by pillows, one pushed up against her back, one between her knees, and another slightly elevating her right leg. Her right palm rested easily on the mattress. White tape covered the entire surface of her small hand, holding the plastic tube of the IV in place. In her sleep, she was the picture of innocence and peace.

Gail Carruthers, 2nd class hospital corpsman, was on duty. There was an air of disdain about her and Eric found himself merely tolerating the young, arrogant corpsman. There was no acknowledgment for his authority as Captain. In fact, she looked right at him, bold and unflinching. He was almost certain there was a flicker of defiance in her rounded eyes.
What is this,
he couldn't help wondering as his intuitive nerves flickered a subtle warning.

"Where's Lieutenant Saunders?"

"He went to the wardroom; he'll be back at 1200."

She turned her back on him, walking away as if dismissing his presence.

"Excuse me, just what do you think you're doing?” He surprised himself by his own self-control.

She merely turned her head as she shuffled through the records in the adjacent open cupboard. “I'm on duty and I need to currently update the medical records, maintain the accounts, and update the supply list for the upcoming shipment..."

He cut her off in the rehearsed spiel. “Whoa, stop. I'm not interested in a detailed description of your duties here. You will not disrespect me. Did you sleep through the entire basic training and completely miss the concept of protocols and authority, and how to conduct yourself in the presence of your commanding officer?"

Her mouth dropped open as a slight flush colored up her neck and cheeks. He studied the girl in her discomfiture with a honed icy censure that enabled him to see into the core of a man. He was aware it left many sailors subjected to it sweating and wishing he were anywhere instead of at the receiving end of this torment.

"Oh yes, sir, I am aware. I apologize, I'm sorry...” He held up the flat of his hand to stop her rambling. He crossed his arms as an odd sensation rekindled a vague memory of a disturbing rumor about her, but right at this moment, he was unable to conjure it up. “How's Miss Carlton?” He gestured at Abby with a subtle tilt of his head.

"Her vitals are stable, sir."

God, where had she gotten such a piercing voice? And why hadn't he noticed it before? He winced as Abby stirred, then dismissed the corpsman with a few cutting words. His internal radar continued to warn him—there was trouble brewing with this one. How had she managed to be posted on his ship? Her attitude was a liability to the department, if not to the crew and the entire ship. “That will be all, Carruthers."

A blank, puzzled confusion shadowed her face. The return of her attitude pushed Eric to the brink. “I said, that will be all."

She stood rooted to the spot, mouth gaping, eyes not acknowledging the abrupt dismissal. Finally, before he could stand no more of her insolence, he stabbed a fierce finger toward the door. “Get out of here, and go to the mess hall."

She fled, exiting the room with a sharp clank of the door, leaving some dark influence behind.

He inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled the bitterness, reining in the ardent need to go and give her the dressing down she so justly deserved. Instead, the warmth shimmering in Abby's eyes hooked him, pulling him to her. She was so warm and sleep-tousled. That startling innocence shone so openly in those blue eyes. The way she looked at him with a gentle mix of curiosity and hero worship, her long blonde tendrils in complete disarray, was definitely wreaking havoc on his hardened emotions.

He approached her side. “Hi, how are you feeling?” The softness in his tone surprised even him. Her smile cast a radiant warmth solely on him.

"Better. Thank you ... for everything.” A blush swept across her face, probably embarrassment at the vulnerability of her position. Abby tried to sit up, wincing and sucking in a short breath. She froze suddenly mid-motion as some sort of pain erupted inside her.

Eric put a warm hand on her shoulder. In a smooth quick motion, he guided her to lie back down. “No, don't move. Just stay there."

Hearing voices out in the passageway, he turned toward the door just as it popped open, admitting a surprised Lieutenant Larry Saunders carrying a tray laden with lunch.

Eric would have been a fool to miss the sharp questioning gaze Larry shot at him, the eyes sweeping round from the door to him. His expression asked,
Why isn't there a guard at the door?

"Captain.” Larry greeted him and placed the tray on the counter along the wall with the wide lip tilted up. He flashed a quick glance around sickbay and frowned. “Where's the corpsman?"

"I sent her to the mess hall. She'll be lucky if that's all I do."

Larry cringed. Eric nodded. “How do you put up with her insolence?"

The tension in the air seemed to multiply tenfold. The velvety pull of Abby's aura drew his attention; he spun on a heel and was struck by the confused and concerned look in her doe-like eyes. Eric gestured toward the tray on the side counter, meeting the doc's troubled gaze. The mundaneness stirred him from his thoughts of punishing Gail Carruthers.

"Abby,” Larry said, drawing their gazes apart, “I brought you some soup and a sandwich. Do you think you can eat something for me?” Larry helped her sit up by firmly gripping her arm and helping slide her legs over the side of the bed.

Eric retrieved the small table beside the bed. Larry set the tray on it.

"It smells good,” she said. “I didn't realize how hungry I was."

She looked up at Eric and smiled. It was a crooked smile that tilted to one side as she tucked the long strands of blonde hair behind her ears. Self-consciously she ran her fingers through the tangled hair, pulling slightly to disengage the knots.

Sensing her obvious physical discomfort, Eric sought to reassure and distract her. “Eat your lunch. After you're done, I'm sure the doc here can get someone to scrounge up a brush for your hair."

Surprise etched her features and she self-consciously lowered her eyes. “Thank you. That would be nice."

She unrolled the napkin from around the utensils and, with some hesitancy, began to eat the rich soup. Glancing up at the captain and doctor through lowered lashes, she watched them move to a pair of chairs near the wall. Then the captain turned slightly. Was he deliberately watching her? What did he think she'd do, spill her soup? His penetrating gaze followed her every move. Now she'd surely spill something, she thought, realizing his silent message wasn't cautious or worried at all. It was loaded with sensual overtones. So unnerving. He sat.

Heat suffused her cheeks, and not from the hot liquid. She felt exposed beneath that all-knowing gaze, naked. But at the same time infuriated at feeling so self-conscious. It was embarrassing to be the focus of all this attention. The men spoke in low tones that came to her only as murmurs. They were talking about her. The knowledge gave her a feeling of powerlessness that was extremely disconcerting.

His steady gaze met hers anew. This time it bore another message: he was now her protector. She was stunned by the power of this; it was almost magical, the intoxicating effect that drew her to him and, god help her,
oh how she wanted him to touch her.
Trembling from the brief contact of several moments before, she lowered her head to continue eating.

Closing her eyes tightly, she forced herself to concentrate on the rich vegetable soup, all the while encouraging herself,
eat your lunch, get a grip.
The emotions surging through her seemed to be thickening the air the in sickbay. She wondered if the men could see it too. It hung in the room like cotton batting.

What made him care so much about her? Was he just that type of person? Though Abby had never met one, she knew there were people whose entire lives were spent serving. Yes, that must be it. She'd about convinced herself of his altruistic nature, when he turned and gazed at her again. No, selflessness wasn't his goal. He cared for her. How? They'd just met. Had barely carried on a conversation. Yet the emotion was as palpable as—well, as the baby kicking inside her.

Struck by this revelation, Abby sucked in her breath and covered the sound with the napkin pressed to her mouth. The movement also served to steady her trembling hands. She set the napkin on her plate, clasped her hands together and lowered them to her lap.

Eric watched Abby eat, noticing her discomfort and the shy awkward glances. When their eyes met, the timid smile she bestowed on him was intoxicating, as was the innocence and exposed honesty in her face as she meekly lowered her head to eat. How refreshing it was that she wore her emotions openly. S
he's not capable of playing coy. What you see is what you get with her.

Eric folded his arms, legs extended and crossed out in front of him. He listened with intent as the doctor spoke, all the while keeping his eyes on Abby. He knew it was disconcerting to her, but could do nothing to stop himself. He simply could not remove his gaze.

"So, may I ask what Carruthers did to be sent away?"

Wrenching his eyes back to his friend, Eric scowled at the bitter reminder of Gail Carruthers.

Eric's negative opinion on the role of women, especially in the military, was common knowledge, probably spoken about in all venues from the rec room to the showers. He'd openly voiced his views on that subject and others. What it boiled down to: he wasn't interested in playing the game as many men did; saying one thing, but meaning another.

Larry did not share his views on women, but said he understood Eric's concerns. As the born peacemaker, he'd taken it upon himself to keep female officers well away from the captain. Though Larry tried to hide it, Eric was well aware of what he was doing.

"She's a stupid twit, lacking all common sense,” Eric finally said. “The last thing I wanted was for her to upset Abby and, frankly, her clumsiness makes me wonder what the hell she's doing here in the first place."

Larry raised an eyebrow at the crude definition of his corpsman. “Could you try and cut her some slack? You should know by now, you make her nervous. She knows you don't like her, she's voiced her concern to me a few times. And that makes her drop things, stumble. She's fine around me, and others."

Eric gave an abrupt wave of his hand to signal this was the end of the discussion about Gail. He glanced over at Abby. The bruises were purple with shadows of green and yellow. How could anyone have hit her? “How is she?” he asked.

"Actually she's doing pretty good, considering what she's been through. Her blood pressure's stable. We've managed to get her re-hydrated. In her advanced state of pregnancy, with those bruised ribs, she has to be extremely uncomfortable every time the baby kicks. She hasn't complained once. I've given her something for the pain. Unfortunately, she'll have some discomfort for a while yet."

Larry tapped Eric on the knee. “Are you listening? You seem to be in another world."

Eric started and looked him in the eye. “Is there anything else, Doc?"

Larry didn't react to Eric's brusque reply. “Joe told me you don't want her moved. For what it's worth, I actually meant to suggest it to you. With what she's been through, it would be an added stress on her and the baby I would rather avoid right now.” Feeling restless, he crossed then re-crossed his arms in front of him. “She needs to take it easy for the next several days. She has a mild sprain in her right ankle. She'll need to stay off it."

"Are you saying it wouldn't be safe to move her now?"

"In my opinion, she's too far along to be putting her on a chopper. The stress might trigger early labor. Near as we can tell—remember, I'm not an obstetrician—"

"No kidding!"

"Near as I can determine ... the baby still has another three weeks until term. It's wise not to mess with Mother Nature."

Eric kept his eyes glued to Larry, scrutinizing everything he said.

"We could probably move her to the base hospital in Bahrain in a few days or a week, at the latest.” Larry paused for just a moment, and then looked over at Abby. “Keep in mind, Captain, she was worked over pretty good."

Stretching his arms, he locked his hands behind his head, and then lowered his voice. A hazy foreboding lingered in the back of his mind, a gentle reminder of the talk they still needed to have. After everything she'd been through, Eric wondered how to make her feel secure enough to confide in him. “I need to talk to her. Do you think she's up to it?"

Standing sharply, Larry walked over to the steel counter along the wall beside the exam table. He unlatched a secured drawer, pulled out a stethoscope, and turned back to the captain. “Let me do a quick exam, but I think it should be fine.” He clutched the stethoscope and pursed his thin lips before continuing. “I feel I need to warn you to take care and not get her worked up."

Eric softened his expression, giving a quick nod to the doctor before standing and towering over him. “The last thing I want to do is upset her."

"I presume you probably want me to leave?"