you could have been languishing in a Demerol daze as we speak. But, nope. You had to play the tough guy.”
“Doc, your bedside manner sucks.”
Her smile tightened. “Chalk it up to sleep deprivation. Two house calls in less than twelve hours qualifies as more TLC than you’re issued, soldier. In the civilian world I could have financed a summer home with the overtime you’re demanding.”
He might as well have been a freshman again, pumping push-ups over some infraction. She wasn’t going to cut him any slack. “And you’ve opted to take it out of my hide, instead.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” She smoothed her already immaculate hair. No sneaky strands slipping loose today, her red mane was swept back into her traditional French braid with the short tail secured under.
Tanner frowned. When had he started noticing how she styled her hair? She’d kept it cropped at the Academy, he remembered that much. Until he’d seen it loose on the flight line, he hadn’t given much thought to its longer length hidden inside that braid.
Now he couldn’t think of anything but wild red strands wind-whipped around her composed face.
Kathleen uncrossed her feet and flicked on the overhead light. “While the conversation is positively stimulating, I’ve got other patients to see. Ones who want to get well. Sit up and let’s take a look.”
“Might as well get it over with.” Contracting his stomach muscles toppled a domino effect to his back that left Tanner straining not to whimper like a kid. And now he couldn’t get his arm from behind his head.
“Bennett?” Compassion darkened her blue eyes. “You can’t sit up, can you?”
He offered silence and no movement as his answer, all the concession his pride would allow. As much as he wanted to snap at her, he couldn’t. His innate sense of fair play insisted he’d brought this on himself.
“Time to call for a stretcher.” She turned on her heel, her tennis shoes squeaking against the tile.
“No!” Tanner arched up. And promptly fell back, his hoarse groan echoing.
Kathleen closed the space to the bed in three quick steps. “Deep breaths. Look at me, Bennett. Focus and breathe until it passes. Try to relax or you’ll make it worse. No need to fight everything in this world, hotshot. There you go, in and out. Breathe.”
Her voice talked him down, like flying by instinct when the instruments were shot and he couldn’t see beyond the clouds. He locked on the timbre of her throaty voice and let it work through the fog of agony.
“Better?”
“Yes.” He offered the clipped word rather than risk even a nod.
She braced her hand on the headboard and sighed. “I’m not going to be able to talk you into a stretcher, am I?”
“No.”
“Even if I tell you walking out of here could delay your recovery?”
Man, she fought dirty. Lose air time or lose face. Hell or Hades. Same thing.
Almost.
He could grit his way through recovery. Regaining face…
Tanner opened his eyes, wasn’t sure when he’d closed them, and allowed himself to gaze straight up into her blue eyes, eyes as clear as an ocean sky. “I can’t roll out of here on a stretcher, Doc. I have to fly with these guys again. Trust in the air is everything, could make the difference in a split decision that costs somebody’s life.” Frustration snapped his restraint. “O’Connell, come on….”
“Okay.”
Shock immobilized him as much as his back. “What?”
“If we can haul you out of this bed, and if you can put one foot in front of the other, I’ll allow you to walk out of here under your own power. No doubt that flyer ego can manage more miracles than modern medicine.”
He searched for sarcasm in her words, in her eyes.
Better not look at her eyes.
Back to her voice. Not a note of sarcasm, just resigned logic.
“Thank you.” Gratitude mixed with respect. He understood how difficult backing down could be.
Then he realized he owed her, an uncomfortable thought at best. He would have shrugged it off if he could lift his shoulders. He joked instead, a safe barrier against free-falling into her eyes. “Do you think we could act like I’ve got some shrapnel in my butt? It would make for better stories around the Officer’s Club.”
Her laugh, low, throaty and her one unreserved trait, filled his senses. Like a drag of one hundred percent oxygen from his face mask, it invigorated him, left him slightly dizzy.
She chuckled again, dipping her head until he could see every tuck of her braid. Each perfectly spaced weave called to his fingers. He wanted to untwine that restrained fire until it poured over his hands.
Silken fire. He wanted it with a pulsing force that threatened stirrings within him farther south.
And he didn’t have anything more than a thin bedspread between his naked body and total exposure.
Kathleen gazed down at the 238 pounds of bare-chested man under the rose-colored spread and wondered if she would ever understand Tanner Bennett. Or her own reaction to him.
It went against every principle ingrained in her to let him walk out under his own compromised power. She told herself it was part of treating the ego as well as the man. Keeping the big picture in mind. A really big picture.
But she knew that wasn’t her real reason.
She kept remembering the Academy doolie. She’d given him hell as his training officer. No sports jock would warrant special treatment from her, just as she accepted no special treatment for being a woman.
He’d never caved.
Even if she didn’t agree with his tactics, she had to admire his warrior spirit. To crush that would be to the detriment of the Air Force.
So her decision was for the Air Force. Right? Not because he looked up at her with those sapphire eyes in which mingled determination and boyish charm.
She extended her hand. “Maybe you can try sitting now.”
“Sure.” He waved away her hand and inched up on his elbows, paling to match the bleached sheets.
“If you can.”
“Of course I can.”
More spirit than sense.
“Come on, Bennett. You need help getting up. There’s nothing wrong with admitting it’s too hard. Here, let me give you a hand.” She reached for his arm.
He pressed back into his pillow. “Doc!”
“What?”
Tanner
