She’s the soldier

But he’s the only one who can protect her

When army nurse Grace Ann Riley is framed for a heinous crime, the shell-shocked major is unsure where to turn. Enter her no-strings-attached lover Derek Sayer, who resolves to help her disprove these allegations. Derek works to exonerate Grace Ann while trying—and failing—to keep his growing feelings at bay. He’ll do anything to keep her safe—even if that means risking his life.

REGAN BLACK, a USA TODAY bestselling author, writes award-winning, action-packed novels featuring kick-butt heroines and the sexy heroes who fall in love with them. Raised in the Midwest and California, she and her family, along with their adopted greyhound, two arrogant cats and a quirky finch, reside in the South Carolina Lowcountry, where the rich blend of legend, romance and history fuels her imagination.

Also By Regan Black

The Riley Code

A Soldier’s Honor

His Soldier Under Siege

The Coltons of Roaring Springs

Colton Family Showdown

Escape Club Heroes

Safe in His Sight

A Stranger She Can Trust

Protecting Her Secret Son

Braving the Heat

The Coltons of Shadow Creek

Killer Colton Christmas

“Special Agent Cowboy”

The Coltons of Red Ridge

Colton P.I. Protector

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

His Soldier Under Siege

Regan Black

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90498-2

HIS SOLDIER UNDER SIEGE

© 2020 Regan Black

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Note to Readers

This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:

 Change of font size and line height

 Change of background and font colours

 Change of font

 Change justification

 Text to speech

“Let him go.”

“He can’t get away with this.”

“He won’t.” Derek hoped his promise wouldn’t become a lie. “Let’s take a look at you.” He leaned back so he could look her over, but she turned abruptly into his embrace, her body quaking with shock as Uniform’s boots continued to pound against the stairs.

“We should call security.” He held her close, needing the assurance that she was alive and well. He kept breathing in the soft clove scent of her shampoo, imagining they were back at their last campsite, under the stars. Anything to block that moment when he was sure she was going over the rail.

“We should.” Grace Ann didn’t move, her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt as the sound of a door clanging open and closed echoed up the stairwell.

Would she be in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell if he hadn’t come along?

* * *

If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you think of Harlequin Romantic Suspense! #harlequinromsuspense

Dear Reader,

Army nurses have fascinated me since M*A*S*H was first on television, so I’m thrilled to introduce Grace Ann Riley. Following in her mother’s footsteps as a nurse with the US Army Nursing Corps, Major Riley knows all about service and sacrifice and she’s learned to handle life on her own terms.

She’s tough and resilient and the type of nurse we all hope for during challenging circumstances: competent, kind and dedicated. She’s also a woman you’d want to call a friend: someone who will be in your corner, ready to crack a joke or leap into action as necessary.

In Derek Sayer she’s found an easygoing friend who gives her space from the demands of military service. But when her life and career come under fire, Grace Ann must decide if she has the courage to open her heart and receive Derek’s help—and love: an offer that could make what she thought was a full life truly complete.

Live the adventure!

Regan

For all of our military heroes who give so much of themselves, at home and abroad, to protect our beliefs, freedoms and way of life.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

At the nurses’ station of the orthopedic post-op ward, US Army Major Grace Ann Riley peeked at the monitor showing the status of various ongoing procedures in the surgery suites. So far this morning there’d been no update on Kevin Sayer, the patient everyone in her unit was watching for. Coping with a seriously injured friend was proving to be one of the biggest challenges in her career.

It was too soon for updates, even without factoring in the notorious unpredictability of spinal surgeries. Deliberately, professionally, she shifted her focus to the busy day ahead. Brooding wouldn’t be any help to her or the patients under her care. She could indulge that need—and burn off any other stressors—after her shift.

Most days Grace Ann relished the demands of her current rotation here at Walter Reed. Each day posed new hurdles and new successes. She put her heart and mind into every shift, leaving pleasantly exhausted, but rewarded as well. Today couldn’t be different, couldn’t be less, not even with the distraction of a teammate in the operating room. The post-op patients under her care needed her full attention. What she did made a difference, in the lives of her patients and for the families waiting for them to come home whole. Or as whole as possible, in some cases.

Her father always said a good nurse could change a soldier’s world. Of course her father, the highly decorated and equally beloved General Benjamin Riley, had met an army nurse early in his career and been smart enough to marry her. Thinking of her parents eased some of the ache weighing on her heart today and put a little spring in her step. The rubber soles of her shoes squeaked against the flooring as she aimed her stride toward the room at the end of the hallway.

She checked the name on the chart: Trisha Jenkins. Pushing open the door, she smiled and introduced herself. “Good morning. I’m Grace Ann and I’ll be your nurse today.”

The woman lying in the bed gave a weak smile in return, squirming to sit up a bit more. “Trisha,” she rasped. “Your patient.”

“My mother is a Patricia. Occasionally a few people have shortened it to Tricia,” Grace Ann said, establishing common ground. “But it never caught on. I heard my dad call her Patty once and I thought she’d deck him.”

Trisha coughed out a little laugh. “My parents didn’t give anyone the option.”

“Smart.” Grace checked Trisha’s pulse first and then used her stethoscope to check heart and lung sounds. “My advice? Get as much mileage out of that sexy voice as possible,” Grace Ann teased while she noted the vital signs in the chart. “How is your knee feeling?”

“Like an overstuffed sausage,” Trisha replied.

“That sounds about right for the first day after an ACL repair.” She assessed the dressing and anti-inflammation protocol. Satisfied, she gave her patient a rundown of what to expect through the day. “The surgeon, or one of his associates, will probably come by in another hour or so. Physical therapy should be here by ten,” she explained. “Getting up will be an adventure, but worth it.”

“Adventure as in a water park vacation or adventure as in training to become a paratrooper at airborne school?” Trisha asked.

“Well, I suppose that depends on whether you’re more afraid of water or heights.” Hearing the raspy chuckle, she knew this soldier would be back on duty sooner rather than later. “Keep in mind, Rome wasn’t rebuilt in a day.”

“Got it.”

Grace Ann double-checked Trisha’s pain levels and medications. She listed the names of the care team for the day and encouraged Trisha to press the call button if she needed anything. At the sound of the cafeteria cart rattling down the hallway, Grace Ann stepped out to collect Trisha’s breakfast tray.

On a normal shift, concerns ran the gamut from pain management to mind-set and soothing anxious family members. Some patients pushed the envelope of recovery, getting up and out of bed too soon. She preferred that kind of trouble over the challenges of those emotionally crippled by their injuries. She put a little tag on Trisha’s chart so the team would watch out for the too-much-too-soon sort of problems there.

Continuing with her rounds, Grace Ann kept one eye on the clock, along with everyone else on duty. The orthopedic ward wasn’t the easiest of assignments and burnout was real. The wounded warriors they cared for put specific faces on the concepts of sacrifice and risks of a military career. But her sense of drive and commitment to helping others helped her, too. Whenever she saw hope or courage chase despair from the faces of recovering patients, it gave her positive ammunition against the ugly memories haunting her after her last deployment overseas.

Having one of their own in surgery for injuries sustained during a training exercise made each minute feel like an hour. There were risks in training, of course, but precautions as well. Drills and exercises weren’t supposed to be career-ending. Sure, accidents happened, but rarely enough in the current environment that most of them took fitness and wellness for granted.

Not anymore.

Like her, Kevin was a registered nurse; he was also currently a captain within their unit and a good friend. By some miracle, he’d survived a crash when the helicopter went down a few days ago in a crisis rescue training exercise staged in a remote part of Texas. His back broken, he’d somehow also managed to survive the transport to a local hospital for stabilization and another transport for reconstructive surgery here at the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Maryland.

Grace Ann believed—had to believe—he’d come through the operation with flying colors and eventually be cleared to get back on duty. Any other outcome was unthinkable.

Kevin wasn’t just a friend or an extended part of her army family. He was the younger brother of Derek Sayer, the man she’d been sleeping with for the past couple of years whenever their crazy schedules allowed. They’d kept their friends-with-benefits relationship a secret, but if Keven didn’t pull through, if this surgery ended his career, how would she ever look Derek in the eye again?

Guilt prickled at the back of her neck and she blinked away tears she couldn’t let fall. She’d been on the roster for that training exercise. At the last minute, her orders had been changed. She’d remained at the hospital and Kevin had been sent her place. Although she had zero evidence, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the crash had been an attempt on her own life rather than an unfortunate accident.

She passed the nurses’ station again for another glimpse at the screen that showed statuses for all orthopedic surgery patients. Kevin had not yet been moved to recovery.

“What do you think it means?” an aide asked, worrying her ID between her fingertips.

Grace Ann thought of Kevin’s irreverent sense of humor and managed a smile. “He probably asked for a little liposuction or a tummy tuck while they were in there.”

The aide chuckled in agreement as a patient call signal sounded at the desk, and they parted ways to return to their respective duties.

Grace Ann was grateful for the full roster of patients and demands today. Whenever she stopped moving, the stinging regret threatened to paralyze her. Kevin had only been on that helicopter because she’d been passed over due to security concerns. Someone from her father’s past had decided to target the Riley children in what investigators believed was a revenge effort designed to cause the general the most pain.

A few months ago, her oldest brother Matt, an army major currently stationed at the Pentagon, had barely escaped the elusive madman’s efforts. What had started with a vague “you will pay” threat had escalated as the man set out to expose and embarrass the family. His plans had nearly killed Matt. At the same time, her car had even been vandalized with the now-familiar “you will pay” message the jerk favored. Investigators had dubbed him the Riley Hunter and were scrambling to unravel more about his real identity, why he’d gone on the attack and how he hired the mercenaries who carried out his orders.

In light of the ongoing investigation and the aggressive nature of the man calling the shots, the military was keeping a close eye on the locations and assignments of Matt, Grace Ann and their three younger siblings who also served.

No matter how the five of them protested, the decision had been made by those higher up the chain of command. Training exercises and deployments had been frozen. Communications were monitored for any mention of the general, Grace Ann or her siblings. Extra eyes, electronic and human, were tasked with keeping tabs on all of them.

Wallowing in the frustration after the fact wouldn’t change a thing. It would ease her mind and the fraying edges of her soul if she knew that those higher-ups were looking for clues that would prove the helo accident had more sinister origins, but it wasn’t her place to ask.

“Woolgathering, Major Riley?”

Grace Ann flinched at the nasal voice of Hanson Bartles, their current executive officer and assistant to the commander. Everyone called him H.B. when they could get away with it. Basically a decent guy, his talents ran to administration rather than hands-on nursing care. She supposed someone needed to have admin skills. Although they would never be friends and frequently butted heads on the priorities and how-to of running a field hospital, they got the job done.

She pulled herself together before facing him. “Good morning, Major Bartles.” He preferred proper titles to friendliness. A slender man, edging toward skinny, he had stiff posture, which always reminded her of the rigors of basic training. Never a comforting thought. The discomfort was only compounded by his precise military haircut, deep-set mud-brown eyes and razor-thin nose.

“If you don’t have enough to do, I could use help with the filing.” It was an old, humorless joke that never earned a laugh. Still, he kept at it, apparently believing one day the result would change.

“If you don’t mind getting your hands dirty, we could use your help down here,” she countered as he fell into step beside her.

His narrow eyebrows lifted toward his hairline and then settled back into place. He might not be happy with her occasional sass, but she never gave him enough grief to take any action against her. “Any word on Captain Sayer?” he asked, pitching his voice too low to be overheard.

She shook her head. More guilt nipped at her heels. Of course H.B. had come down to check on Kevin. Everyone in their unit was on edge, and petty personality differences had to be pushed aside.

“I haven’t heard anything since the commander went down to the surgery waiting room to sit with his brother,” H.B. said. “David, right?”

“Derek,” she corrected automatically. Grace Ann had to work to keep her expression neutral as the warm, laughing eyes of Kevin’s older brother flashed through her mind. He would be too worried to laugh now. He hadn’t so much as sent her a text message since the accident. “That’s nice of her to wait with him,” she said of their commander, Lieutenant Colonel Molly Bingham.

Grace Ann had briefly considered going downstairs to check on Derek and managed to find every viable excuse to avoid that scene. Dodging him made her feel like a lousy person, a terrible friend with or without benefits, and added another layer to the guilt weighing her down. Eventually Derek would know she’d been on shift this morning. If she wasn’t careful, he’d learn she should have been on that helicopter instead of Kevin.

Probably a good thing he hadn’t reached out yet. What could she have said to ease his worry? Her more immediate concern was how she’d face Derek when his brother reached the post-op ward. Professionally, it was her job to be available to answer his questions, but she didn’t want to be professional with Derek. She wanted to lean on him, bare her soul and never stop apologizing. Another part, equally needy, craved distance from what was sure to be anger and resentment that his brother had taken her place and was now staring down a long tunnel of recovery.

She knew reality would fall somewhere in the middle.

The signal at the door between the surgical suite and her ward sounded and the wide doors parted. “You’ll excuse me, duty calls,” she said to H.B. without waiting for a response. Though she wished it was Kevin on that gurney—safely out of surgery—she was grateful to have a clear, valid reason to ditch H.B. and get back to work.

Once the recovery team had her newest patient settled in the bed, she took over. She was just charting the vitals on her initial assessment as the man’s mother and wife arrived. Both women were sniffling and dabbing at red-rimmed eyes. Having been through this scene frequently, Grace Ann asked and confirmed that this was the first time they’d seen their soldier in months. She offered upbeat reassurances and reviewed what they should expect in the next few hours. Recognizing the situation had the potential to get sticky, she smiled confidently and explained where they could find the family lounge before making a swift exit.

Never in her life had she felt like more of a coward, but getting snared in all that raw grief and angst would make the rest of her shift unbearable. She could go 24/7 for a patient, but her tolerance for family drama had changed. Today, she had to put Kevin’s situation first.

She was making another pass by the monitor to check his surgical status when a code alert sounded for a patient at the opposite end of the hallway. In a well-orchestrated flurry, every visible member of the staff leaped into motion. Grace Ann was a half step behind the crash cart as the emergency response team poured into the room, and she began carrying out orders as fast as they were given.

Together they moved through each life-saving protocol with competent precision, the only goal to save the patient. And they lost both battle and war as the soldier’s body gave out in fits and starts. When the doctor pronounced time of death, there was a tangible sense of defeat choking the air as Grace Ann and the others cleared the room.

In a field hospital on the other side of the world, there might have been hugs or even a fair bit of cursing over the circumstances and failure. None of the people she worked with knew how to give up gracefully in the fight for life. Here, in this beautiful, state-of-the-art facility, with families present and watching, they were expected to maintain a standard of professionalism that bordered on superhuman.

Grace Ann lifted her chin, rolled her shoulders back and strode down the hallway away from the shadow of defeat and frustration. The patient hadn’t been under her care, but that didn’t lessen the sense of loss. They were a team, the concept drilled into them from day one of their basic training, all the way through nursing school and beyond. Although the human body was astounding and resilient and mysterious, sometimes the wounds were too severe or the will to survive too fragile. And yet they had to keep going, keep pressing on to save those they could.

Smothering reactions and distress were part of the job. This was merely the first time in the current hour she’d had to hide the emotions roiling inside. At home she could break down and have a glass—or a bottle—of wine with a frozen pizza and let the tears flow. She couldn’t wait.

In the process of locking down her grief, she smiled absently at the man who turned into the corridor without really seeing him.

“Grace Ann?” He shifted toward her, not quite blocking her path. He reached out before he caught himself and tucked his hand into his pocket. “I’m glad to see you.”

The voice cut through her haze of grief first. Derek. She looked up into his gentle blue eyes and saw a friend. The urge to lean on him grew like a giant bubble at a children’s party. He’d understand. He might even take comfort as he offered it.

Feeling weak and sad, she felt this was the worst time to bump into him. She held herself back, shoulders straight, hands shoved into her pockets. “Hello, Derek.” She squeezed out the greeting through the vise grip of emotions clamped on her throat. “How are you holding up?”

The tension churning deep inside her belly eased just being near him. The man was so easy on the eyes with his sandy-brown hair and vivid blue eyes. He hadn’t shaved and the burnished gold stubble emphasized his strong, square jawline.

She found him as attractive now, rumpled and exhausted, as she had when they’d first met at a family picnic for the unit. Today, his suit jacket was folded over his arm and his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his tie nowhere in sight. She imagined he’d driven straight to the hospital from the office when he’d gotten the call about Kevin’s injury and impending surgery. Under the sun-kissed skin of a man who loved the outdoors, his face was a little gray and his lips bracketed with worry lines.

When had he last eaten?

And just like that the day’s trouble and her lingering guilt faded to the background. Her mind soared well away from the hospital, back to the tent they’d shared on a kayaking trip six weeks ago. She opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. Clearly startled by her demonstration—no one knew they saw each other regularly—he hesitated before reciprocating the embrace. She couldn’t say which of them held on to the other as people and activity flowed around them.

Giving was simply the way Derek was built, as intrinsic as his lean muscles and bone structure. She knew they both benefited from the nurturing contact, though she tried not to take too much.

Reluctantly she stepped back. “Is Kevin out of surgery?” she queried as her guilt surged to the fore again. She hoped he was too distracted to notice.

“Yes,” Derek replied. “I just got word.” He pushed a hand through his hair, wrecking it more. “The surgeon told me he came through the procedure in great shape.”

The urge to pull him into another hug, to celebrate and let herself ride a wave of happiness for him and his brother, nearly overwhelmed her. She clutched her stethoscope with both hands until the feeling passed. Remorse and culpability were strange emotional burdens.

“That’s fantastic.” How long had they been working on the patient they’d lost? “Everyone in the unit will be so happy. Have you seen him yet?”

He nodded. “For maybe all of a minute in recovery.”

“That’s good. I know it doesn’t seem like much.” She wanted to reach up and soothe as the lingering distress rippled across his shoulders. “Have you eaten lately?”

“I’m fine.” He shifted his feet. “Just not a big fan of hospitals.”

“Who is?” she asked brightly. “We’re used to that completely natural bias around here.” She was fully aware he wasn’t a big fan of the army, either. To be in a place that combined both must be excruciating. As family went, Kevin and Derek only had each other. For a fleeting moment, she wanted to confess that it should’ve been her in that helicopter. But what good would it do to give him more what-ifs to think about right now?

“Do you know Kevin’s room number?” she asked.

“Not yet...” His voice trailed off as his gaze drifted over her face. “Are you okay?”

“Absolutely,” she lied. “Would you like me to look up the room number or show you around the floor?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Bingham just gave me the full tour. I know they have Kevin assigned to that wing.” Derek tilted his head toward the opposite end of the hallway.

She glanced in that direction. “He’ll have an excellent team.”

“Not you?”

Was that disappointment in his voice or only her wishful thinking? “Not me.” Medical crises could instigate all sorts of reactions, but she didn’t want this situation to alter the foundation of their friendship. At the core of it, they were good together because they didn’t have any expectations or pressures from external sources. “Don’t worry, everyone from the unit will make time to pop in and pester him until he’s on his feet again.”

One corner of Derek’s mouth curled into a hint of the smile she missed more and more between each of their meetups. “Kevin will appreciate that.”

“Probably not for long,” she teased. “I’ll check in on you both in a bit, okay?” She had to get back to her patients. Even with the lingering guilt, she’d have an easier time maintaining her positive, calm professionalism after these few minutes with Derek.

“Grace, one more second.” Derek smoothed the fabric of the suit coat draped over his forearm. “Can I buy you a coffee? After your shift, of course.”

An answer evaded her. Was the invitation an attempt to move their covert, casual relationship into something more public? Coffee was an activity friends or colleagues shared when they didn’t care who might see them together. A lonely butterfly flew a tight spiral in her belly before she grounded it. She was reading too much into it. Her arrangement with Derek was private. Sharing a conversation over coffee wouldn’t expose their secrets, even if someone from the unit happened to see them.

“We’ll see,” she hedged, needing time to sort out if her hesitation stemmed from guilt or something less easily defined. “I’ll stop by once Kevin’s settled in his room. We can decide then.” He might be too tired or too worried to leave his brother’s side.

A pucker appeared between his golden-brown eyebrows as he studied her. “Okay.”

She hurried away, the soles of her shoes squeaking rapidly in her wake. Her mind flickered back to Derek as she moved between patients and responsibilities. Did she want to have coffee with Derek? Oh, yeah. Especially if coffee was a euphemism for something far more physical, distracting and life affirming.

She had to get a grip. Biologically, she was well aware that sex was one of the most common coping mechanisms after a loss or in a crisis. And though hooking up with Derek had proved mutually beneficial, she didn’t feel fair connecting with him physically just to take her mind off her ever-expanding abyss of guilt over what happened to Kevin.

Of course, fairness wasn’t something life tossed out very often. Both she and Derek knew that firsthand. A cajoling, suggestive voice in her head reminded her that this affair had been his idea. And hadn’t she happily continued their casual hookups every three or four months for the better part of the past two years?

She’d felt more than a passing interest spark when she’d been introduced to him at a gathering for families prior to Kevin’s first deployment with the unit. Those sparks had fired a bit stronger at the homecoming picnic that wrapped up that particular tour.

Her lips tingled, as they did every time she recalled their first kiss. A rushed moment, stolen in the shadows as the sun set on a full and happy day, it had been a kiss full of tantalizing promises. Promises they’d kept to each other through various camping trips and outdoor excursions no one else knew about.

His friendship was priceless. He was so different from the men and women who made up the rest of her world. Though they didn’t see each other on a regular basis, he’d become her haven in a world that could turn from beauty to frightful on a whim. On rough days, her stolen time with Derek buoyed her spirits and gave her something positive to look forward to.

She didn’t want to lose that or hurt him with might-have-beens. She had to tell him it should’ve been her on that helicopter, even if it meant the end of their friendship.

Derek craved a breath of fresh air. The odor of hospital and antiseptic was embedded in his clothes. He could feel it seeping into his skin. And he was doing what he always did in hospitals—overreacting. He closed his eyes and focused on that sweet feeling of Grace Ann’s hug. The one she’d given him in public, at her workplace. Marveling over the gesture calmed him enough to take another deep breath. To stay put. He hoped that hug would be enough to carry him through the challenging moments to come.

By the time they had his brother settled in the hospital room, Derek found his second wind, or maybe it was the third or fourth. He’d lost count of how many times he’d fought back from the undertow of exhaustion and panic since the unit had notified him about the crash.

Unfortunately, he was pretty sure one more adrenaline spike was the last thing he needed. Steady as he’d been through all the waiting, the familiar mixture of worry for his brother and aggravation with essentially feeling helpless was creeping in. It put an edgy buzz in his ears, under his skin, that he couldn’t shake off.

From the moment Kevin had announced his intent to join the army, a piece of Derek had been waiting, braced for “the call.” The call that would make him the last Sayer on his family tree.

He dropped into the bedside chair. He should be used to this weight on his shoulders, having become Kevin’s emergency contact at the age of eighteen when their parents had been killed in a car crash. Grief and the sudden onset of responsibility had changed everything about him. He’d willingly stepped into the breach—would do so again now—but the carefree teenager he’d been occasionally wanted to act out at the unfairness of it all.

Anger swelled at the sight of his brother in the hospital bed, tethered to several machines monitoring who knew what. Derek reeled in his temper. Negativity wouldn’t help. Kevin wasn’t on life support and he would make a full recovery, eventually.

After he’d waited out the surgery with Kevin’s commanding officer, seeing Grace Ann had steadied him. Their brief conversation had been a spark of hope. And that hug... He’d nearly buried his head in the sweet-scented softness where her neck curved into her shoulder. Hardly fair and nowhere close to appropriate, considering their personal relationship was top secret. No one even knew they were more than acquaintances.

He liked it that way. The setup worked for both of them. No pressure, no questions, no conversations about what might come next. She must still approve, as well, or she would’ve stopped meeting up with him on the random weekends when their schedules meshed. On occasion, he’d debated the wisdom of the casual, no-responsibility thing they had going and couldn’t manage any shame. They had mutual interests and were definitely compatible and so far, neither of them had met anyone worth making a change to an arrangement they both enjoyed.

“Knock, knock.” Grace Ann’s quiet voice preceded the sight of her face peering around the door. “Can I come in?”

“Please,” he managed, practically jumping to his feet. He should keep his distance, especially here. This was her place of business, the unit her second family, yet he couldn’t resist the appeal and comfort of having her near.

Her relaxed, easy smile as she walked into the room was reminiscent of early mornings on their many camping trips. Under a clear sunrise, her cap of short dark hair gleamed and her soft fair skin and deep brown eyes radiated warmth. He never tired of seeing her in those remote, solitary settings, knowing the moments they shared were only for the two of them.

Selfish? Maybe. He cataloged it as self-preservation. Other women eventually expected more than he could give. Grace Ann, raised in a boisterous and busy military family, was too independent to make demands on him.

Today, with the whir and beeps of machines and the cold, clinical smells surrounding them, their backdrop was a far cry from the pace and peace of nature. Here, dressed in her scrubs, her stethoscope in her pocket and a bulky watch on her wrist, she was a professional, though he desperately wanted to lean on her as a friend without fear of being caught in the act.

“How’s he doing?” She stopped at the foot of the bed, adjusting the blanket tucked around Kevin’s feet.

“You probably know better than I do.” Derek winced at the hard edge in his voice. He hated hospitals almost as much as he hated standing by, helplessly waiting. He held up his hands, surrendering. “Sorry. Apparently I’m too tired to be civil.”

“That’s to be expected,” she murmured.

In the privacy of the room, with Kevin unconscious, her lips curved into one of those smiles he enjoyed only when they were alone. Her eyes warmed with compassion, chasing away the persistent chill he’d been fighting since walking into this building.

“Has he been awake at all?” she asked, turning her focus to one of the monitors.

Derek shuffled his feet and stuffed his hands into his pockets, uncomfortable with the needs at war inside him. He could handle this, had handled worse in the past. “A minute or two,” he replied. “Long enough to tell me to lighten up.”

“That’s his special skill around here,” she said, patting Kevin’s shoulder. “He keeps all of us from taking ourselves too seriously.” Sadness drifted over her like a fog, first shadowing her eyes, then flowing down over the rest of her in those shapeless scrubs. Was she afraid for Kevin? Were they keeping some dreadful detail from him? Curious and concerned, he studied her while she watched his brother’s monitors.

“Well?” he asked.

She swiveled around as if she’d forgotten he was there. “Pardon me?”

He nodded to the various machines emitting periodic beeps. “What’s your assessment?” Waiting for the answer, he watched her reclaim her composure, though the signs of a rough day lingered in her rigid shoulders and the way she gripped her stethoscope.

“He appears comfortable,” she said. “You, not so much.”

They stared at each other over the bed. The silence stretched between them, a wire ready to snap. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to yell at her or kiss her or beg her to get him out of here. “I’m not myself,” he muttered, turning toward the safer view outside the window.

“Did you get something to eat?”

“No.” The idea of food made his stomach turn over.

“You should grab something,” she suggested. “I’ll wait here if you don’t want him to be alone.”

Her calm, professional demeanor was taking over. Was it too much to ask to keep Grace Ann, friend and lover, in this room instead of the experienced RN?

He stalked back and dropped into the chair by the bed. “I need to stay.” Being there for Kevin had become his role the moment their parents died. It didn’t matter where “here” was. He wasn’t perfect, but whatever support Kevin needed—emotional, financial or physical—Derek did his best to provide.

“All right. Tell me what sounds good and I’ll go get that for you.”

Her completely rational tone grated on his nerves. “You’re not a waitress.” He had to get control of this nasty attitude. No one deserved this surliness, but especially not her. Not when he claimed to be her friend.

She angled her head, a grin teasing the corner of her mouth. “Well, I have been. It’s just like riding a bike,” she said. “What’ll it be? Downstairs, they had burgers and pasta marinara on the line today.”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m being an idiot.”

“No, Derek.” She stepped closer, her gaze earnest. “You’re being a concerned brother. I have a few, so I know firsthand what it looks like.”

Her gracious understanding did nothing to settle this prickling under his skin. Surely she saw plenty of people at their worst every day. He didn’t care to be lumped into that group.

“You and I are so different,” he said. Not the first time he’d thought it, though it was the first time he’d dared to say it aloud. The cornerstone of their weekend getaways had been the avoidance of deeper topics and connections. Better, they’d decided early on, to keep the focus on their common interests. Love of the outdoors, new adventures and sex. Excellent sex.

She waited for him to gather his thoughts without saying a word.

He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been so patient. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d argued with a girlfriend. Because he didn’t. And she wasn’t. He was a short-term kind of guy who knew when to make a quick or graceful exit. The randomness of their hookups had to be why things still worked with Grace Ann.

“Kevin’s more like you,” he continued. “Those days after the accident, when Dad didn’t pull through, I never wanted to see a hospital, nurse or doctor again. Kevin set his mind on a medical career. Took me a long time to accept that.”

He wasn’t sure he’d accepted it yet.

“Kevin’s going to make a full recovery,” she said. Her quiet confidence was a cool balm to his ragged emotional wounds. “There will be hard days. He’s going to need your legendary support in the weeks to come.”

“Legendary?”

Her lips parted but her cell phone chimed, distracting her before she could explain. Frowning at the device, she excused herself and stepped into the hallway.

Legendary support? That had to be sarcasm. Derek had stumbled many a time, trying to raise a heartbroken little brother. They’d fought bitterly along the way and he’d been particularly unenthused about his little brother’s career decisions. He reached for Kevin’s hand, careful to avoid the bruising that mottled his skin from the helicopter crash.

Grace Ann came back in. “That was my boss,” she explained, holding up her cell phone. “I can’t pick up anything for you, but I asked the cafeteria to send something up.”

“That was...” Just about the nicest thing anyone had done for him in years. “Thoughtful,” he finished. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Everyone wants to pitch in and help both of you through this.”

He nodded. His voice wasn’t trustworthy.

“Promise me,” she pressed.

She’d never demanded a promise or anything else from him before. He found himself giving it easily. “I promise.”

As she darted away, he felt the change. Lighter, hopeful again. It seemed a few minutes in her company had cut his burden in half. Should he chalk that up to her professional skill or their unique friendship?

It bothered him more than a little that he couldn’t be sure.

Chapter 2

Being called to the commander’s office wasn’t completely out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t an event Grace Ann categorized as fun. Hugging Derek in the hallway couldn’t have raised any eyebrows. As Kevin’s brother, he was unit family and offering him support or comfort was completely normal under the circumstances.

Maybe the Lieutenant Colonel wanted to put her on a new assignment or a special project. She was always up for a change of professional scenery and she’d happily dive into a task that would fill the hours between shifts and keep her mind off those relentless ghosts haunting her and the madman hunting her siblings. Only one way to find out. In the elevator, she took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts, prepared to give an update on her patients, as well as Kevin.

H.B. was shutting down his computer for the day when she walked into the suite of administration offices. “Go on in,” he said. “She’s ready for you.”

“Thanks.” She tried to pick up a clue about this meeting from his expression, but he might as well have been playing poker. Rapping on the door, she announced herself.

“Come on in.” Lieutenant Colonel Bingham waved her forward. “Have a seat,” she said. “It’s been a long day for all of us.”

“It has,” Grace Ann agreed. The pleasantries did nothing to settle her nerves. There was a hard gleam in the commander’s usually kind brown eyes. “I just came from Kevin’s room. He’s resting comfortably.”

“That’s good news.” Bingham’s gaze raked over a paper on her desktop before she looked up. “There is no easy way to say this,” she began. “I just received notice you’re under investigation for misappropriation of Department of Defense medical supplies.”

The absurdity of the statement left denials and protests tangled up between Grace Ann’s brain and her mouth, making her momentarily mute. There had to be some awkward, horrible mistake. She’d been stateside for two years, serving with her unit here at Walter Reed day in and day out. The only exceptions had been temporary assignments for training exercises elsewhere. Until the Riley Hunter’s actions prevented her participation.

“I beg your pardon?” she managed. “I would never—”

“Of course, I don’t believe it for a minute,” Bingham said. “I do, however, have to take appropriate action. The report claims you broke the rules during outreach efforts on your last deployment.”

Who would start pointing fingers now over a deployment two years done and gone? “The school,” she murmured as the devastating memories burst free of the boxes where she tried to keep them.

The ghosts took shape, flowing around her, the happy faces of children she’d come to know and love a little. She wasn’t in the office. Not even in the States. She was back in that dusty village where boys and girls, eyes sparkling with life and energy, would dance and sing and giggle during the team’s visits. One by one those faces withered, the eyes staring into nothing, all that life snuffed out.

“Major?”

Grief was an open, festering wound. Her mouth went dry, recalling the dust that coated everything and everyone. Her heart seemed to stall in her chest, aching more with every beat, her ears ringing as they had in the aftermath. Wouldn’t it be nice to curl up and turn her back on the world with all its horrors?

She yanked herself back to the present before the past dragged her under permanently. “Yes, pardon me.” Slowly she opened her hands, stretching her fingers, which had balled up in defense.

Bingham hadn’t been their commander on that tour and Grace Ann wasn’t sure what she might or might not know about the incident. When she had control of her voice, she explained, “We regularly conducted wellness visits at the village school. It was a high point in the tour for all of us. Until it was bombed.”

Legally, DOD supplies could be used to treat locals in cases of blindness, loss of limbs, or life-threatening trauma. On the day of the bombing, she and the team had gone out to conduct routine checkups with the schoolchildren. There hadn’t been any trauma supplies on hand to be used, appropriately or not.

Someone must have misinterpreted the team’s actions in that crisis. Why pin it all on her? Needing information, she forced herself to ask questions. “Is that the incident being investigated? Who accused me?”

“The whistleblower’s name is redacted in my report,” Bingham said. “As well as specifics.”

The name wasn’t important. Grace Ann was confident she’d guessed right. “That has to be it,” Grace Ann murmured to herself. “The school was the biggest, most publicized community outreach effort in our area,” she explained. “I suppose our time there, the improvements we were making, turned the village into an irresistible target for terrorists.”

“You know better than that,” Bingham said. “It had nothing to do with us. Terrorists habitually go for the jugular in a community. Positive growth isn’t tolerated.”

Bingham was right, but Grace Ann couldn’t shrug off the weight of blame. She’d come home, debriefed and reestablished a healthy work-life routine. And still when she closed her eyes to sleep, the children who would never grow up were with her.

“I don’t like this, Major Riley.” The commander glared down at the paper again, closed the folder with a snap. “However, my responsibility is to cooperate for the integrity of the investigation, regardless of how ridiculous it is. To that end, your security clearance has been suspended—”

“Pardon me?”

“—and your access to medications and controlled substances is revoked. Due to those status changes, you’ve been removed from the schedule until the investigation runs its course and you’re cleared.”

“Ma’am?” Grace Ann stared at her commander, dumfounded. The words wouldn’t fall into any sensible order. How would she fill the hours without her work? “I didn’t do anything wrong over there.” Who had she offended so badly that they’d file a false report?

“I know this comes as a shock,” Bingham continued gently. “Your first call should be to the JAG office. After that, I recommend you take a real vacation. According to your personnel record, you haven’t taken much more than a long weekend since your return from Afghanistan.”

“There was a week in Key West,” she said absently. She could hardly mention her secret trips with Derek every few months. “We all met down there to celebrate when my parents picked up their boat.”

Most of the time she filled her days off between short jaunts to the Rileys’ new beach house in North Carolina or rambling through nearby state and national parks with Derek. Surrounding herself with activity was the only way she’d found to mute the agony of that day and keep those vicious memories locked down.

“Your scattered days here and there aren’t nearly enough downtime to balance how much you give us here, Major Riley,” Bingham said. “Consider the extended time off a silver lining to this frustrating and inconvenient situation.”

“How long?” She blurted out the question before she had control of herself. “I mean, yes ma’am.”

Bingham narrowed her gaze. “If you want my opinion, no one who knows you is putting any stock in this. Still, the investigators are obligated to follow through.”

“Of course.” Transparency and accountability were the catchphrases these days. That logic was no comfort to her while her career deflated like a popped balloon and her heart cowered in her chest.

“I did try to keep you on the rotation,” Bingham said. “They wouldn’t have it. I anticipate you’ll be cleared and back with us just as soon as the initial interviews are over.”

Her head pounded. They were conducting interviews already. On a violent incident that had taken place on the other side of the world. She couldn’t think of a single person who would set her up this way or a single witness who might verify this outrageous claim.

“I’m free to go?” She should feel lucky she wasn’t in handcuffs.

Bingham nodded in the affirmative. “Major Riley. Grace Ann. You are a trusted, valued member of the Army Nurse Corps. I do not believe there is anything credible in this accusation. Take some time to yourself and let the system sort it out.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” It meant a great deal to be trusted, to hear that she was valued.

Unfortunately, the confidence and compliments wouldn’t change the sudden abundance of free time looming in front of her. Hours and hours with no distractions, no work to exhaust her physically or mentally, posed a terrifying and untenable prospect.

She couldn’t even invite Derek for a quick weekend away. He needed to be here with his brother.

Guilt and grief tied knots in her belly. She should be the one recuperating from spinal surgery—would have been if the Riley Hunter’s antics hadn’t kept her off that exercise. Now another storm cloud was throwing random lightning bolts into her life, threatening her career. She had no idea who she was without the army, without nursing.

Derek rubbed his palms together briskly, determined to stay awake. Overtired, now that he had a decent meal in his belly it was hard to keep his eyes open. He could sleep later. With so many things that could, and often did, go wrong in a hospital he was driven to keep watch over Kevin.

He and his brother held vastly different memories of the days their dad lingered in ICU after the car crash. Kevin had been old enough to understand the concept of serious complications but still young enough that Derek sheltered him as much as possible from the increasingly grim updates.

Yes, Kevin’s situation was different. Medicine had made huge advancements since they were kids. And unlike their father, Kevin had squeezed his hand once during Derek’s brief visit to the recovery area and periodically roused enough to remind Derek he’d be fine. Now, while Kevin slept, Derek had only his thoughts and the incessant beeping of various monitors for company.

The television had been more annoyance than diversion. He’d called his office in Baltimore and updated his assistant that Kevin would recover fully, explaining it would be a few weeks yet before he could manage day-to-day tasks on his own. She’d promised to pass the information along as needed and keep him up-to-date on issues at the office. He was in-house counsel for a medical supply company, so there weren’t any pressing cases to juggle.

Though it was selfish, he wished Grace Ann would come back. Her confidence in Kevin’s recovery made it easier to believe life would return to normal again someday. Just knowing she was in the building gave him something positive to think about when the clinical sounds and smells overwhelmed him.

Eighteen years ago Derek had changed up his life and adjusted his personal plans to stay home and get Kevin through high school. The few weeks or months ahead of them were simply another drop in the bucket. Derek would telecommute or...

His thoughts evaporated when he caught a glimpse of Grace Ann hurrying by the open doorway. He’d expected her to pop in again after she dealt with whatever had called her away, had been counting on her return. He started to stand up and follow her and forced himself to stay put. Though Kevin didn’t need him right now, he didn’t have to trail after her like a lost puppy.

He pushed to his feet again. He should apologize for being rude when she’d been trying to help. An apology was a valid, mature reason to interrupt her and it had nothing to do with wanting to spend another few minutes in her company to store up that soft scent of her skin. She was intelligent, witty and kind and she’d managed to make this never-ending day almost tolerable.

Although, as he hustled down the hallway, he had to concede everyone here had been nicer than expected. The weight on his shoulders lifted with the silent admission. Kevin frequently joked about Derek’s colossal bias against the military. His prejudice wasn’t even based on his own experiences or an inherent philosophy. No, Derek’s problem boiled down to a pervasive unease about Kevin’s inevitable deployments to dangerous and remote locations.

His little brother had no idea how much Derek didn’t want to be the last Sayer on their family tree.

At the intersection of two hallways, he looked around, having momentarily lost sight of Grace Ann. She was a little taller than average, a fact he appreciated whenever they kissed and when he spotted her dark head moving against the sea of scrubs. He almost called out her name before he remembered where he was and that shouting wasn’t a smart idea.

He rushed forward, determined to catch her before she reached the employees-only doorway. He skidded to a stop as someone wearing a combat uniform—he couldn’t be sure if it was a man or a woman—rounded the corner, grabbed her and shoved her into the stairwell.

What the hell?

Catching a glimpse of the shock on her face, he moved on instinct and bolted after them. Through the narrow window in the heavy door, he saw the uniform held Grace Ann in a chokehold, pressing her back over the railing. She fought back, twisting and straining to break the grip, while keeping one foot hooked around the back of the attacker’s knee for leverage. Or balance.

Derek’s heart slammed into his rib cage. He couldn’t lose her. Soldier or not, she wouldn’t deal with this alone—he wouldn’t let her. Shouting for help, Derek surged forward and grabbed Uniform’s collar and hauled him back.

The person under that boxy uniform put up quite a fight. Closer now, Derek could see it was a man by the big hands dusted with hair wrapped around Grace Ann’s neck. The edge of a tattoo on his inner right wrist peeked from under a sleeve. Derek struggled, pushing and shoving, determined to get the man off her.

She continued to scrape and grapple, using the distraction and shifting momentum to break the chokehold at last. In a lightning-quick maneuver, she pinned Uniform’s hands helplessly to his side and struck the man hard on the jaw with her elbow.

Uniform’s head snapped back, but he didn’t give up. Backpedaling, he thumped Derek into the wall with his body and lunged for Grace Ann again. The element of surprise gone now, she smoothly ducked under the attempt to corral her at the railing and raised her leg, tripping Uniform. He pitched forward, tumbling down the slope of concrete steps.

Uniform hit the first landing with a thud and a low groan before he scrambled to his feet and kept running, pinballing between the wall and the rail in his haste to escape. When Grace Ann moved to follow, Derek caught her, holding her back. “Let him go.”

“He can’t get away with this.”

“He won’t.” Derek hoped his promise wouldn’t become a lie. “Let’s take a look at you.” He leaned back so he could look her over but she turned abruptly into his embrace, her body quaking with shock as Uniform’s boots continued to pound against the stairs.

“We should call security.” He held her close, needing the assurance that she was alive and well. He kept breathing in the soft clove scent of her shampoo, imagining they were back at their last campsite, under the stars. Anything to block that moment when he was sure she was going over the rail.

“We should.” She didn’t move, her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt as the sound of a door clanging open and closed echoed up the stairwell.

Would she now be in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell if he hadn’t come along? Jerking his gaze away from the unforgiving concrete at the bottom of the stairwell, he shifted them closer to the door and safety as the tremors rolling through both of them subsided.

“Thanks,” she said, stepping out of his embrace. “I’m better now.”

He wanted to believe her. His gaze fixed on the red marks circling her throat above the neckline of her scrub top and his heart lodged in his throat. “You sure?”

She suddenly bent over, her hands braced on her knees, and sucked in slow, measured breaths. “Just need a minute.”

“Take your time.” He stroked her back with his palm, soothing, willing her to be okay. “Did you recognize him?”

Still doubled over, she shook her head. “The name on the uniform was Smith. The rank was PFC—private first class. That’s all I got.” She coughed, the rough sound making him wince.

“He had a tattoo on one wrist.” Straightening, she arched an eyebrow. “I only caught the ink,” he explained. “Not enough to identify an image.”

“So he might as well be invisible,” she said, then fell into another spate of coughing.

“We need to call security,” he repeated. He patted his pockets, couldn’t find his cell phone. “They can pull more information from video feed.” He’d spotted surveillance cameras above the stairwell door and high in the corner. “And you need a doctor.”

“I’m fine.” She handed him her cell phone and rasped out the code for security. “I should have known this kind of thing was coming,” she muttered.

“What are you talking about?” he asked while he waited for someone at the security desk to pick up. If someone was harassing her, the hospital, with all of the protective measures, identity checks and people coming and going, seemed like an audacious place to launch an attack.

She reached for the door, held it for him. “It’s a long story.”

“Good thing I have plenty of time on my hands,” he said. “Which way to the base security office?” he asked as the phone kept ringing.

Her reply was interrupted by the person who’d finally answered his call. In low tones, he gave an explanation of the incident and promised they would both head straight over to give a full report.

“You need to stay with Kevin,” she said when he returned her phone. “I’ll go over and handle the report. If they have questions for you, I can share your cell number with them. Assuming that’s all right.”

Let her out of his sight after that? Not a chance. “You’re not going anywhere alone,” he told her. His heart hadn’t yet returned to a normal rhythm.

“But—”

He cut her off with a look. “Wait here. Please,” he added as he ducked into the room. Returning after grabbing his cell phone and jacket, he was glad to see she hadn’t left without him.

“This is silly. You know I can handle myself.” Her chin lifted in defiance, making the red marks on the delicate skin of her throat stand out in stark relief.

“You can,” he admitted. She probably would have hog-tied the assailant with her stethoscope and dragged him down to security by his bootlaces if Derek hadn’t interfered. Instead, he’d jumped in and the guy escaped. “You can,” he repeated. “But you don’t need to.”

“Derek.” Clearly exasperated, she made his name sound like an oath.

“You’ve said it yourself,” he pressed. “Kevin just needs time to recover. No one’s attacking him.” He leaned close. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you need me more than he does right now.”

“Fine.”

Relieved it hadn’t required more of an argument, he followed her to the employee area for her floor, waiting outside the door. She returned within a minute or two, a tote over her shoulder and a jacket zipped up to cover the marks on her neck. It only sent more questions rolling through his mind, but he held them all back for a later time. She was clearly irritable and he didn’t want to stress her voice any more than necessary.

“I wish you’d let a doctor look you over.”

She glared at him and shook her head. Her phone chimed with an alert and she checked the smartwatch on her wrist. The glare turned into a fierce scowl.

Whatever the message was didn’t improve her mood. “Problem?”

“My brother,” she replied with a dismissive shrug. “He’s mad I refused a formal protective detail.”

“More of that long story?”

“Yes,” she replied with a grimace.

At the security desk, a base police officer took their detailed statements of the incident in the stairwell. Though she refused medical evaluation, they swabbed her throat for any possible DNA from her attacker and took several pictures of the marks left behind. Before they left, the officer assisting them pulled up the video from the nearest cameras and promised to try to track down the soldier who had attacked her.

On the surface Grace Ann appeared satisfied, but Derek’s gut instinct told him there was something more going on. On their private trips, he’d learned to read her pretty well. The tension was there in the way she kept nipping at her lip and working her thumb over her index finger. Those little habits would fade during their time together, only to resurface when she had to head home.

Maybe the two of them should have been sharing more than superficial, steamy outdoor getaways these last couple of years. He’d kept secrets for both of them. Didn’t she know she could trust him with anything?

“What next?” he asked.

“I’m going home,” she said. “Hot tea and an ice pack.”

Whether he blamed it on the traumas past or present, he couldn’t bear the idea of her heading home alone. What happened if the anonymous soldier returned? “Let me help. At least until you’re settled.” He intended to stick close until he got the whole story out of her.

She shook her head. “That’s overkill.”

“Maybe I could use a friend,” he suggested. He’d been running on fumes before witnessing her attack. Time outside the hospital with her would be a welcome change of scenery.

“Uh-huh.” She rolled those big brown eyes and he could tell she was close to giving in. “You’d do better with a friend who isn’t in trouble.”

What kind of trouble? He’d been around the unit long enough to know that time and again she put others ahead of herself. It had been obvious from their first introduction when she’d left her meal unfinished to take over in the serving line so another soldier could eat with his parents. “Probably,” he said. “But you’re right here.”

“Convenient.” Her lips twitched into a shadow of a smile. “For both of us.”

Pouncing on the opportunity, he convinced her to let him drive her home. They took the base shuttle to his car and she programmed her address into his navigation app. During the short drive to her house, she sipped on a water bottle she’d pulled from her tote, staring at the neighborhood passing by.

He appreciated the silence as his thoughts were swirling with doubts and nerves about this move. Since agreeing to explore the potential of their first kiss, they’d deliberately avoided crossing the line between neutral-territory casual hookups and personal space.

Living in separate cities, about an hour away from each other, helped. Although they’d agreed dating other people was okay and that either one of them could bow out gracefully if a date took a serious turn, here they were. He hadn’t dated anyone else in over a year. So he kept circling back to her, and her to him, every few months for a long weekend of hiking or rafting or some other outdoor adventure. It was the perfect solution.

No one else captivated him the way Grace Ann did and few had shared his interests with the same intensity. Unique, confident and strong, she was practical with an unexpected side of whimsy that cropped up at the oddest times. Despite the inherent risks of her career choice, she lived life large. He admired that, though he couldn’t cope with it day-to-day over the long-term. On the rare occasions when he pictured his future wife, she didn’t wear camouflage or follow orders to assist in a crisis overseas.

Pulling into the last driveway on her block, he studied the clean lines of the redbrick house on the corner lot with a one-car garage and a cherry tree in the front yard. He wondered if she had help with the well-kept lawn. As long as they had been together, he should know if she enjoyed yard work.

“Nice place,” he said.

“Thanks. I’ll get the garage door so you can pull in.” She opened the door and slid out of the passenger seat, tote slung over her shoulder.

She punched a code into a keypad beside the door and a moment later the garage door rolled up. He put the car in Drive, but she didn’t move. He couldn’t pull in without hitting her and the garage interior was too dim for him to see beyond her. Turning off the engine, he climbed out of the car and walked up to stand beside her.

Shards of glass were scattered across the cement floor. His gaze followed the glinting trail to a broken window in the back corner. He reached for his cell phone, but he’d left it in the car. “Call the police,” he said quietly.

“No.” She swallowed. “It was just wind.” She dropped her tote bag to the floor. “I didn’t get the tree branches trimmed back when I should have.”

He hadn’t heard anything about damaging winds, having been indoors for the majority of the past two days. “You sure?”

“What else?” Moving forward with stilted motions that bore no resemblance to what he remembered as the fluid, energetic woman he’d gone kayaking with a few weeks ago, she walked over to the wall-mounted pegboard and pulled down a broom.

“Hold up.” Derek stepped into her path, noticed her eyes had glazed over and her knuckles were white where she gripped the broom handle. With a gentle shake of her shoulders, he broke through the strange haze. “Grace Ann, you need to call the police. Now, honey.”

A shiver rippled through her and her big brown eyes brimmed with tears. She blinked rapidly before they could spill over. “Why? I can’t tell them anything.”

Derek had never before felt this drive, this need to rescue a woman. Being there for Kevin had been his primary focus and he studiously avoided drama and troubling entanglements. Whatever Grace Ann was facing, he was determined to help.

“I’ll make the call,” he said. “We’ll report this as a possible break-in.” Thank goodness he’d insisted on bringing her home. “Take a look around,” he said, using her phone to look up the nonemergency number for the local police department. “Is anything missing?”

She was so obviously overwhelmed he wanted to cuddle her close and assure her it was just another lousy moment in a bad day. His mind on the attacker who’d escaped, he couldn’t help wondering if both instances were related. Briefly, he considered closing the garage door and taking her to a hotel. Preferably a hotel on the other side of the country.

Instead, he called the police department, gave her address and explained what they’d found. While she looked around, Derek took stock as well. There were a few items of value, but nothing other than the window seemed to be disturbed or vandalized. He glanced to the steps leading to the house, wondering if someone might be hiding inside. Although the hole in the window wasn’t big enough for a person to fit though, he wasn’t taking any more chances.

“Come on, we’ll wait in the car.”

She aimed a watery smile at him. “You should go. To your hotel or back to the hospital. I’ll be fine.”

Like hell he’d leave her to handle this alone. “Sure, I’ll go. Is there a neighbor you’d like to come over to wait with you?” he asked innocently.

“Just go.” Temper flared in her eyes. “I’m a big girl, Derek.” She paused to clear her throat. “This isn’t the first bad day I’ve had.”

He’d bet good money it was among the worst she’d had in a long time. At least he hoped days like this weren’t the norm. He moved her tote aside and tugged her down to sit on the steps with him.

“You might not have heard, but I’m coming off a pretty bad day myself,” he said, keeping his voice light. “The experts promised that my worst nightmare isn’t going to strike this time. Which gives me time to help you out.”

“What’s your worst nightmare?” she asked, pressing her hands together between her knees.

“Being alone.” It wasn’t a fear he’d ever confessed or tackled head-on. When had he come to trust Grace Ann so much? “I don’t dwell on it,” he added. He lived his life, managed his career and kept himself distracted with hobbies.

“Ah.”

“Ah?” he echoed. “Meaning?”

She exhaled, her breath fluffing her bangs away from her forehead. “You know I’m second of five kids,” she reminded him. “An army brat. My family seems to grow a little more every year through military connections alone. I’m not sure I have a grasp of the kind of loneliness you’re afraid of.”

Her answer painted a clear picture of how little he knew about her and filled him with a strange urgency to learn more. “Do you have a roommate?”

“No. I enjoy living by myself.” A wry smile curved her lips. “Of course there’s always a sibling or friend I can call, to vent or lean on when needed.”

He supposed that’s where he fit into her life. Someone she called when she needed a break from solitude or work. “Why don’t you call your family now?”

“I should.” Elbows propped on her knees, she rested her head on her hands. “I will once the police are done. No sense worrying everyone until we have more facts.”

“You’ll tell them about the attack in the stairwell, too?”

She rubbed her temples. “I hate to worry the family but I will tell them all of it,” she muttered.

“What else are you dealing with?” He smoothed a hand across the bunched muscles of her shoulders.

“Stupidity.” She picked up her cell phone, turning it around in her hands, lips pursed. “I got suspended today,” she said. “Someone reported me for misuse of Defense Department supplies and my security clearance is suspended while they investigate.”

Whoa. Work was everything for Grace Ann. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She picked at the knees of her scrubs. “Some guy was strangling me.”

“Your family can help with this, right?” She was the daughter of a highly decorated general. Surely he still had connections.

“They shouldn’t.”

He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “You have to tell them.”

“I will.” She leaned into him. “Again, better to have all the facts,” she said.

“Do you need an attorney?” He didn’t have the right legal expertise, but he had friends in all areas of law practice.

She frowned. “I didn’t think you took private clients.”

“I can help you find someone,” he replied. He didn’t even have to think about it, though it meant calling in a favor with a friend or two with more experience in military law.

She pushed up from the stairs, arms folded over her middle as she paced the width of the garage. “You’re too generous,” she said.

It didn’t sound like a compliment. “You’d change your mind if I sent you a bill.”

In the glare of the overhead light, he saw that her rusty laugh didn’t quite reach her eyes. He really should have a ready solution—other than sex—to help ease her distress.

What began on a whim at his first family picnic with Kevin’s unit could have been a sturdy foundation. In that soft evening light, away from the noise of so many happy, reunited families, he’d found contentment. Her wide, accepting smile and her doe eyes framed by long dark eyelashes drew things out of him too easily. With her, on that secluded path, all of his wishes and dreams were possible.

That one kiss had led to...nothing. Not right away. They’d exchanged numbers and after some careful planning, they’d spent a weekend hiking the gorgeous trails in the Shenandoah National Park. There, they’d developed a no-strings, friends-with-benefits arrangement that was the best of both worlds.

Now he felt as if they’d shortchanged all that early potential.

“I appreciate the offer,” she was saying. “The accusation is bogus and the investigation will bear that out soon enough. I won’t be out of work long.”

He heard the faintly hopeful note in her statement and kept his opinion to himself. Waiting out bogus accusations was one thing, but adding in the attack at work and now the vandalism to her home, his uneasiness cranked up. “You think these are all just unrelated, unfortunate incidents?”

“Yes.”

Her fierce, whispered reply wasn’t convincing. He couldn’t challenge her or ask for more details because the police cruiser pulled up, parking on the street.

“You can leave,” she said as the officers approached. “I’ll be fine.”

“In a minute.” He stood with her, not close enough to touch, unless she reached out. As much as he wanted to console her, it would be better if it was her idea.

The two officers introduced themselves as Willet and Radcliff. Willet, hair going gray at the temples, carried a bit more weight than the wiry, youthful Radcliff. Together they patiently listened to Grace Ann’s account of finding the broken window, Willet taking notes. They asked about her security system and nodded in resigned acceptance as she explained there was only a motion-detecting floodlight at the back corner of the garage.

“Not much help in daylight,” Officer Willet remarked.

“Any signs of trouble inside?” Radcliff queried.

“We haven’t gone in yet.” Grace Ann tugged at the high collar of her jacket. “It seemed prudent to wait for you.”

“The door doesn’t show any sign of damage,” Derek said.

“I never lock this one,” she admitted glumly.

“Understandable,” Willet said. “It’s the same at my house. Radcliff will take a look around outside to check for any evidence or concerns.” With a nod, the younger man strolled off. “Once I clear the house, the three of us can walk through.”

“I appreciate your time,” Grace Ann said.

Officer Willet examined the doorjamb closely before entering the house, one hand on his holstered gun. “Just give me a few minutes,” he said.

They stepped back to wait in the center of the garage. Officer Radcliff returned before Willet. He reported that other than a small, narrow footprint, there wasn’t any other evidence to be found.

“Do you think the tree limb broke the window?” she asked.

“Not to my eye,” Radcliff said. “I called for a crime scene tech to come out and gather whatever they can find.”

She pressed her fingertips to her lips and nodded, accepting the assessment. Derek had never seen her so rattled. Of course he’d only really spent time with her on weekends, far from any real pressure. “Have there been any similar crimes in the area?”

“We always see a bump in burglary complaints when school starts up,” Radcliff answered. “Pure vandalism comes and goes.” He shrugged. “We’ll run it through the system for any similar incidents when we get back.”

Derek couldn’t be sure what Grace Ann thought, but in his mind that added up to more trouble aimed directly at her. “You don’t sound hopeful about catching the vandal.”

“It’s unlikely,” Radcliff admitted. “No sign in here or out there of the object used to break the window.” He shrugged again. “Probably a kid on a dare.”

Derek hoped the officer was right. Because of the different jurisdictions, no one was likely to connect the attack at the hospital, on federal property, with this incident in her civilian neighborhood, unless Grace Ann suggested it specifically. Something he knew she was not ready to do.

“House is clear,” Willet declared from the doorway. “I don’t think anything is out of place, but you’ll know best.”

“That’s good news,” Grace Ann said.

“Come on in and take a look.” Willet waved them closer. “Thank you for your service,” he added.

Color rose in Grace Ann’s cheeks. What had the police officer seen inside? She hadn’t yet given them more than her name, and there was no insignia on her jacket. He waited near the kitchen, as inconspicuously as possible, while she and the police officer walked the house.

With a full view of the spacious front room, Derek decided he liked her home. She’d chosen comfortable furnishings, nothing fussy and cluttered or too sparse and sterile. He noticed the framed flag and a shadow box with an award of some sort on the shelves flanking a big-screen television. He didn’t go closer, unwilling to tread on her frayed nerves. On the counter she had a framed picture from her last deployment in Afghanistan. She stood next to his brother, both of them grinning, surrounded by the rest of their team. The date was engraved on the frame. He’d seen a matching piece at Kevin’s house.

“Everything is still here,” she said when she came back into the main room.

Once again he fought the urge to gather her close. “That’s a relief.”

“It is.” Her smile lacked any real enthusiasm. “It was a long day at work,” she told the officers.

The officers promised to look into any connected complaints as Grace Ann walked them out. When they were alone again, Derek caught Grace Ann staring at the broken glass.

“Go on inside,” he said. “I’ll sweep this up and cover the window for tonight.”

“You’ve gone above and beyond already. It can wait until morning.” She glared at the mess. “It’s not like I have anywhere to be.”

She had yet to sit down with the hot tea and ice pack, and he knew she needed both. Needed to unwind. Though he expected resistance, he had no intention of leaving just yet. “Are you hungry?”

She tugged at that high collar again before meeting his gaze. “A little.”

“How is it I don’t know if you like to cook?” Camp cooking wasn’t the same as enjoying the process of building a meal at home.

“We’ve never had reason to discuss it.” Her lips twitched. “I don’t enjoy it much. Unless cookies and brownies count.”

His mouth watered. “From a mix or from scratch?” Homemade brownies were his favorite.

“Scratch.” Her sharp chin lifted in a way that made him long to nip and taste. “If you’re mixing up ingredients, might as well do it right.”

“That counts.” Baking was one thing he’d never mastered after stepping into a parental role with Kevin. Even with boxed mixes, he’d always managed to mess something up.

He pulled out his phone before she could try to send him away again. “I’ll order a pizza and you can make dessert while I clean up the garage.”

“How is it I didn’t know you’re so bossy?” She said it with a sweet smile that made him want to steal a kiss. He resisted. Barely.

“Lawyer.” He tapped the wide-bristled broom to the cement floor. “Comes with the territory.” He set to work, smiling when he heard the door close quietly behind her as she went inside.

Lawyer, pseudo-parent, oldest child: he supposed he came by his bossiness naturally. In this instance, with a woman with such vivid pain haunting her gaze, he counted it as a helpful trait rather than a hindrance.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.