Resisting Her Army Doc Rival. Sue MacKay

see right inside, would know she was a screw-up. Nothing like the confident girl who used to cope with everything and had always been a success. She certainly didn’t used to do vulnerable. Digging deep, she tried to find that Madison, but she was long gone. Burned in the midst of a fire. ‘I’m all right. I don’t mind dust.’ That scratchy sound coming across her tongue was not her usual voice; instead, it sounded like a cat when its tail was stomped on.

      ‘You won’t be saying that for long. It never goes away, coats every damned surface, and gets into places you won’t believe.’

      But it won’t kill me, or scar my body, or terrify me. Or take someone I love. Or change my life for ever. Shaking in her boots, she continued staring at the thinning cloud as it changed direction to head away from the buildings. A grenade had been lobbed at her within minutes of arriving. This place was not good for her.

      Just as well Sam still held her. To hit the ground with thirty kilos on her back would hurt, and write her off as a loser in everyone’s eyes.

      Did he know he was rubbing her arms with his thumbs? Couldn’t, or he’d stop immediately. She didn’t want that. Not yet. She needed the contact, the comfort, which showed how messed up she was. She was an officer in the New Zealand army, for pity’s sake. ‘It’s truly only dust?’

      ‘Yes, Madison, not smoke.’

      The unexpected gentleness in his voice nearly undid her. She wasn’t used to that tone from men any more, and it reached inside to tear at her heart, slashed at the barricades she kept wound tight. She tilted forward, drawn by an invisible thread, needing to get closer. Her brain was begging Sam to wrap his arms around her.

      Her chin flipped up. Under pressure from her pack she straightened her spine and locked her eyes on his. He’d have her back on that plane heading home quick smart if he knew what she wanted of him. Good idea. That’d get her away from here and everything she suspected was going to test her over the coming weeks and months. Something at the back of her mind was pushing forward. I am not a coward. Not even a little one? No. Not even a tiny one. Messed up? Yes. But she would not add coward to her CV. Twisting her head away from that all-seeing gaze, she locked her eyes on the dust that had ripped her equilibrium apart.

      ‘Dust can be a nuisance. Dirty and scratchy.’ Slowly, one shallow breath at a time, her lungs relaxed, returned to doing their job properly. There was little resemblance to smoke in that whirl. She’d made an idiot of herself. ‘Thanks for rectifying my mistake,’ she whispered.

      ‘Any time.’ Sam stepped back, his hands dropping to his hips in his apparent favourite stance, taking that strength and safety with him, leaving her swaying until she found her balance, but like he was ready to catch her if necessary. That she could cope with; the intensity he was watching her with she could not.

      Madison slowly looked around, taking time to get her body back under control. She was a soldier, and a doctor. No one need know she lost her cool at the sight of smoke. Or the smell of it. Or the roar of flames. Except Sam had already witnessed her near breakdown. She could only hope he wasn’t going to be like a dog with a bone until he found out what that had been about.

      She risked a glance at him, and gasped at the worry filling his steady summer-sky eyes.

      ‘Are you all right?’ he demanded.

      ‘Yes.’ The thudding in her chest had spread to take up residence in her skull—beat, beat, beat. She needed to get indoors, away from dust clouds—and compelling eyes that had already seen too much. ‘I’ve never seen dust like that, and naturally...’ Would he fall for this? ‘Naturally I thought there was a fire. I won’t make that mistake again.’

      ‘You’d better not. It would be a hindrance on patrol. You could endanger others.’ His worry didn’t diminish, suggesting he was concerned she wouldn’t be competent enough to do her job as a soldier.

      ‘I think you’ll find I know what I’m doing.’ But reality was sinking in fast. This was nothing like practising back home, however seriously the officers had taken every manoeuvre in which they partook. If she did freak out at the sight of smoke again she might not get away with it. But as long as the camp commander didn’t see fit to lock her up in a padded cell she’d be all right.

      ‘You’d better.’ His worry might be abating but he was still studying her with the intensity of a microbiologist looking down a microscope.

      Which rattled her nearly as much as the dust had. Her vulnerability was rearing up again, pushing out from the corner she worked hard at keeping it tucked into. Sam—or anyone on base—must not find her lacking. Neither could he learn how insecure she could be.

      ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked in a less autocratic tone.

      ‘How long have you served on the Peninsula?’ Suddenly her time here stretched before her, filled with uncertainties. Would she be strong enough to lead troops outside the camp? There’d be no respect from them if she turned into a blithering idiot because of dust. Or smoke.

      ‘Twelve months, give or take a day.’

      She’d do less. Thank goodness for something. ‘Have you enjoyed your tour here?’ Anything to avoid the chasm she was looking into right now.

      His nod was sharp. ‘This has been one of the better ones.’

      ‘So there’ve been others.’ Others that hadn’t been as comfortable, the edgy tone of his voice suggested.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Guess I’ve a lot to learn.’

      ‘Definitely, but we all have to deal with things we’re not at ease with when we first arrive. You’ll be fine.’ The grin was back, a little forced, but she’d accept it as it made her relax a teeny bit more. For now the danger of falling into that compelling look was far less risky than exposing the vulnerability that haunted her. This was Sam Lowe, a man she could relate to because they came from the same city, had been to the same school, and right now someone familiar was like balm on feverish skin.

      Bet he’s a fantastic doctor. And a good soldier. He’d always done well at everything he did. Yes, she remembered that much about him. The pounding behind her eyes intensified. There was too much to deal with right now. ‘I need to settle into my room.’ She needed to look forward and not back, something she couldn’t manage while in Sam’s presence.

      ‘I’ll see you later in the medical centre.’

      She nodded. ‘I’ll be there as soon as possible.’ And get started on her new job, even if she only got to meet her colleagues and learn the layout of the unit.

      Sam turned away, spun back as though trying to catch her out. The intensity in his gaze had not backed off. Whatever he was looking for, she doubted he found it because finally he shrugged, said almost kindly, ‘Welcome to the Peninsula, Maddy.’ This time he strode away without a backward glance.

      He remembered her friends called her Maddy? Or was it a natural abbreviation of Madison? That was more likely. He wouldn’t remember much about her. Why should he? They hadn’t mixed in the same crowd or been in the same classes. But... A sigh escaped her lips. The way her name sounded in his gravelly voice was something to hold onto. It warmed her when she was already hot, flattened the goose bumps that dust had raised, gave her hope. Hope for what? No idea, but it was so rare she’d hold onto it anyway.

      The pack still weighed her down, pulling so her spine curved backwards, but it was the head stuff that kept her rooted to the spot. That and the man whose long legs were eating up the parade ground as he put distance between them. She felt as though she had too many balls in the air and wasn’t about to catch any of them.

      Trudging towards her barracks, she tried to drag up memories of Sam. He’d been head boy in their last year, captain of his sports teams, a natural leader if the devotion from others wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Officer material for sure. Which said he’d want to be in charge here in the medical unit. Probably was anyway, given he’d been here for a year.

      Too