Locked Down With The Army Doc. Susan Carlisle
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They were genuine and steady.
She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, so many thoughts flooding into her mind. Her brain was such a mess. All she could concentrate on was the feel of his hands on the tops of her arms and the gentle way his forehead pressed against hers. His warm breath danced across her skin. Her gaze was naturally lowered and she could see the rise and fall of his chest.
He was a doctor. The type of guy she’d spent most of her life trying to avoid any romantic entanglements with. And this was crazy. She’d already seen a flash of something in him that reminded her of the focused way her father used to be.
So, if she already had alarm bells flashing in her head, why wasn’t she running for the hills? She could pretend it was the hurricane. That the only reason she wasn’t moving was because she was stuck here.
But that wasn’t what was anchoring her feet firmly to the ground.
That wasn’t what was letting the heat from the palms of his hands slowly permeate through her jacket and trickle its way through her body. Her last few boyfriends had been as far removed from medicine as possible—a landscape gardener, then a chef. But somehow she hadn’t felt this. This connection.
And she couldn’t understand it. She’d only met Jack last night. And yes, they’d clicked. There was no doubt the man was attractive. There was no doubt her mind was imagining so many other places they could go.
But the timing wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all. Her mother’s face flashed into her head. The tired, weary look that had always been visible. The sadness when she’d glanced at a clock and realized Amber’s father wouldn’t be home that night. The endless amount of wasted dinners scraped into a trash can. The times when Amber had sat at the dinner table, desperate to tell her father about her day, and he could barely pay attention—talking over her as he launched into yet another story about work, or surgery, or research. Or when he left the table again as soon as the phone had begun to ring with another call from the hospital.
She’d spent her whole life feeling like an unimportant spare part. Constantly trying to earn the approval of a man who barely knew she existed. When Jack had spoken on the stage earlier on today, he’d had the same conviction, the same passion and dedication as her father.
She sucked in a breath as she realized the similarities between them both.
Having any kind of relationship with Jack Campbell was a complete nonstarter. She’d already lived part of her life being second best in someone’s life. She was determined never to allow herself to be in that position again.
She wanted to step away. She should step away.
But for the briefest of seconds her eyes just fixated on the rise and fall of Jack Campbell’s chest under his fatigues. She tried to focus. She had a purpose. She was a physician. She was here as the representative of her agency. She had a job to do. She could continue to monitor Zane and Aaron to try and keep them stable. To chart the progress of the infection and its reaction to treatments. Information like this was vital right now—nearly as vital as stopping the potential of any spread.
Aaron’s parents might be on the road here and in the path of the hurricane. Her skin prickled. The logical part of her brain told her that these people were Hawaiians. They would know all the emergency plans for hurricanes. They would know how to keep safe. But would they follow their heads or their hearts?
Two years ago she’d had to make a heartbreaking call to another parent. She’d been called to an ER overwhelmed with flu patients. A small child had been admitted straight from school with a history of asthma, difficulty breathing and a high temperature. She’d called the parents and told them they should attend as quickly as possible. They never got there. In their sense of panic they’d been involved in a car accident and it had etched a permanent memory in Amber’s brain and a scar in her heart. If she’d said something different, maybe if she hadn’t let them know the urgency that she was feeling, they might have taken more care.
But the truth was, in the midst of a chaotic ER, she’d held that little girl’s hand—angry that the parents hadn’t got there in time—and tried to assist as they’d attempted to resuscitate her. They’d failed. And then she’d got the news about the parents.
No one had blamed her. No one had needed to. She’d blamed herself.
There were always going to be tough times being a doctor. She knew that. She expected that. But this one had hit her harder than others.
And it had affected her more than she’d realized. Her confidence at work and around others was mainly just bravado. It also helped her erect a shield around herself.
Her heart wasn’t safe. She didn’t feel in a position to form relationships. Not while she felt like this. Not when she couldn’t open herself up to others. It was safer to be single. Safer to surround herself with colleagues who didn’t seem to recognize her detachment, but, instead, thought of it as self-assuredness and confidence.
She told them she didn’t date colleagues and let them think that her life was full of a hundred other potential suitors at any time of the day.
She didn’t tell them that she’d run out of series to watch on her paid Internet TV.
For the briefest of seconds earlier today she’d thought she’d recognized something on Jack’s face.
That expression. That look. A flashback—a haunting. It was momentary. Only lasting a few seconds.
But it made her feel something. A connection.
And even though there was a hurricane outside, that scared her more than anything. So she turned on her heel and walked away.
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