Tamed By Her Army Doc's Touch

CHAPTER TWO

LUKE CHECKED HIS side mirror, flicked on the indicator and turned his motorbike into the hospital visitors’ parking. The sixteen-hundred cc engine rumbled beneath him like a large, hungry predator and responded to the merest flick of his wrist.

He’d been back in Spruce Ridge a few months and still couldn’t believe he was here at all. But, then, Spruce Ridge had been the spawning grounds of the Sullivan boys’ greatest summer adventures, despite—or maybe in spite of—their parents’ widely publicized and bitter divorce.

His aunt and uncle had taken in three bewildered little boys and provided a firm hand and a ton of homemade cookies, along with unconditional love. Looking back, Luke sometimes wondered where he’d be if it hadn’t been for summers spent here.

His mouth twisted into a self-deprecating grin as he recalled the wild scrapes he and his brothers had got into, partly in a bid for their parents’ attention but mostly because they had been budding delinquents. And punishing his parents had been the main reason he’d joined the army after med school, instead of doing his residency at the hospital his mother pulled strings to get him into.

He’d loved every minute of being in the Rangers—right up until eight months ago when his helicopter had been shot down over enemy territory. The crash had taken the lives of six marines, two rangers, the hostage they’d been sent in to retrieve and Luke’s passion for flying.

He and the rest of his team had held off hostiles for fourteen hours before help had finally arrived. Luke didn’t remember the rescue. He’d woken up in hospital two days later feeling damn lucky to be alive. He’d also woken up realizing it was just a matter of time before his luck ran out, so he’d signed his release papers and hopped on the first flight home.

Locating an empty parking space near the entrance, he whipped the big motorbike between a faded red truck and a dark blue sedan and brought it to a halt.

Dropping one booted foot to the ground, he killed the engine, released the kickstand and rose to his full six-four height. Shoving up his visor, he stripped off thick leather gloves and turned to survey the parking lot in a move he recognized as a habit left over from a decade in the military. He wasn’t concerned about being paranoid—it had saved his ass countless times over the years—but he still had to remind himself that Spruce Ridge wasn’t a war zone.

He figured he’d eventually get better at remembering.

Reaching up, he tugged off his helmet and shoved a hand through his hair, ruffling the thick coffee-colored strands. After tucking his gloves in the helmet, he dropped everything into a side storage compartment then headed for the entrance.

People sent him wary glances and Luke smiled and shook his head as they scuttled out of his way. He knew the black leather made him appear the big badass biker, but he’d seen enough accidents involving motorbikes that he wouldn’t consider getting on one without wearing all the proper gear.

Reaching for the big zipper tab, he pulled it down and thought about his favorite leather bomber jacket a certain siren had been wearing the last time he’d seen her.

The memory of huge stormy gray eyes framed by a thick fringe of dark lashes, long ropes of sopping red-gold hair and a lush pink mouth flashed into his head and brought a different smile to his lips. That mouth had breathed life back into a young man’s lungs and had featured hotly in Luke’s dreams last night.

Stepping through the automatic doors into the air-conditioned foyer, Luke pulled off his aviator shades and slid the earpiece of one arm into the neck of his T-shirt.

He gave a silent chuckle. Okay, so the memory had also included long naked legs and some spectacular curves covered in skimpy leopard-print underwear. He was a guy and hard-wired to recall stuff like that. Besides, in the months he’d been home he hadn’t seen anything remotely as impressive or intriguing as the woman who’d stripped in public and dived into a freezing lake to save someone she didn’t even know.

That had taken a lot of guts, and Luke was a great admirer of guts.

Entering the nearest elevator, he punched the button for the fifth floor and watched as the doors slid closed. It was his weekend off but he’d decided to check on last night’s drowning victim before heading for the marina.

The elevator bell pinged and the doors opened onto a brightly lit corridor. Luke stepped out and the nurse on duty at the ward station looked up as he approached. Her gaze widened and she blinked a few times as her mouth opened and closed. “D-Dr. Sullivan?” she stuttered. “I didn’t … I almost didn’t recognize you.” Then she hurriedly straightened her white and navy top and flipped her hair in a move Luke couldn’t fail to recognize. “Can I help you?”

“I heard the drowning survivor was brought up here last night,” he said, propping his elbow on the counter and aiming a crooked smile in her direction.

“I … um … drowning survivor?”

“Yeah, Trent something-or-another.”

“Oh, him.” She gave a husky laugh and slid her gaze all over him like he was a mega-sized chocolate snack and she was contemplating a sugar binge. “We heard all about his dramatic rescue this morning. Everyone’s talking about what a hero you are.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he denied, straightening from his slouch. He was used to attracting attention from the opposite sex, but felt like she’d stripped him naked right there beneath the bright fluorescents. He frowned. Sometimes he wondered if the interest had more to do with his father’s money or the fact that he’d been discharged from the army with full military honors as well as a Purple Cross. Some women liked that kind of thing. “I wasn’t the one who saved his life.”

“That’s not what I heard.” She smiled as though he was being modest, and pointed down the corridor. “Just follow the noise. I’m sure Trent and his friends will be thrilled you stopped by.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, by the way, Dr. Sullivan?” she called as he headed down the corridor. “Have you seen the morning papers?”

He paused with a puzzled look over his shoulder. “No, why?”

She winked and fanned herself. “You really should check them out.”

He shrugged and said, “Okay,” although he had absolutely zero interest in the tabloids. He’d spent enough time as a kid trying to live down his mother’s publicized exploits or dodging the paparazzi to care about reading whatever had the nurse looking like she was having a menopausal moment.

Approaching the noisy private room, he slowed his pace and came to an abrupt halt in the doorway. The private room was filled with young studs all vying for the attention of a woman propped beside the window. She was flushed and laughing, looking as young and carefree as a college sophomore. Luke recognized her instantly. Those long ropes of tousled red-gold curls were hard to miss, as were the soft, full curves beneath the lilac tank top. And the long legs encased in snug denim were unmistakably those of the woman who’d absconded with his favorite bomber jacket.

Dr. Lilah Meredith.

Lilah rolled her eyes and laughingly declined her fifth invitation for a date. It had been a long time since she’d been around noisy, energetic twenty-year-olds and she couldn’t help feeling old—despite their assurances that she was a total “babe” or that she was only a few years older.

Besides, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a “real” date, let alone how to behave if she went on one with a couple of babe-crazy students.

Movement near the door distracted her from the disturbing image of herself as a lonely cougar—at twenty-nine—and Lilah sucked in a startled breath when she recognized the figure filling the doorway.

The last time she’d seen him he’d been standing head and shoulders above the crowd wearing nothing but low-slung jeans, a scowl and looking like the poster boy for Heroes R Us. The last time she’d seen him she’d thought he was just some hunky hot guy who’d been in the right place at the right time. Instead, he was a colleague—a guy from a world she wanted nothing to do with.

Granted, she’d only been working ER for a short while and had never actually been on rotation with him, but she’d heard enough about Luke Sullivan and seen him from a distance that she should have recognized him. But, then, she’d been too busy to pay attention to more than deep green eyes and big warm hands.

Now the sight of him dressed in black leather and looking all big and bad and dangerous reminded her of long muscular legs, mile-wide shoulders and a body made for underwear ads—underwear for real men, that was, and not the pretty boys they usually featured.

There’d been that brief glimpse of him last night in wet black boxer briefs that still gave her heart palpitations when she recalled the way they’d molded to … well, everything.

Pushing away from the window with a breezy “Well, boys, it’s been fun,” Lilah reached for the shoulder bag she’d dropped on the bedside cabinet.

She slung it over her shoulder to a chorus of “You can’t leave now,” and pushed her way through the wall of youthful testosterone.

“Since the real hero of the moment has arrived, why don’t I leave you to introduce yourselves? Maybe Connor can ask Dr. Sullivan for a date. I hear he’s—”

“Already got a date with you, Dr. Meredith,” his deep voice interrupted smoothly, sending goose bumps skittering across her flesh. Her eyes widened. Oh, heck, no, she thought with a gasp of dismay. Absolutely no getting all worked up over some rich guy playing a badass biker dude. Especially not a guy with the kind of look in his eyes that tempted women to sin.

He stepped into the room, abruptly dominating the space and sucking out all the air with a much more potent cocktail of testosterone and pheromones. But, then, he was a full-grown adult male who’d had years to perfect the recipe. Oh, boy.

His disturbing green gaze held hers for a couple of moments too long for comfort and his mouth curled—as though he was picturing her in her underwear. Jerk.

Lilah’s face heated and she nervously licked her lips, which caused his eyes to darken instantly.

“Oh, I’m sure the guys will make much better dates than me,” she said, cursing the alarming way her breath hitched and her knees wobbled as she moved towards the door. She paused and bit her lip when he made no move step aside. Her eyes narrowed. He was huge, darn it, and surrounded by masculine heat and energy that was way too appealing for comfort.

Couldn’t he have waited for her to leave before arriving like a hot avenging angel of doom?

His hooded gaze swept over her face to her mouth before dropping to take in the rest of her body as though she was still wearing nothing but scraps of wet underwear. “I sincerely doubt that, Doctor,” he drawled, drawing snickers from the group behind her. His mouth curled into a slow grin as sinful as the gaze that rose to hers. “I’ll just keep my date with you.”

“I wouldn’t count on that, Dr. Sullivan,” Lilah said smoothly, and was forced to brush past his big body on her way out the door. A chorus of whistles and whoops followed her down the passage and she heard him say, “No offence, Connor.”

A burst of laughter nearly drowned out Connor’s reply. “None taken, dude,” was followed by, “You lucky dog,” before she was finally out of earshot.

Face burning, Lilah opted to take the stairs rather than the elevator to the ground floor. She hoped by the time she reached the lobby she could blame her pounding pulse and ragged breathing on jogging down five flights of stairs.

She hit the ground floor and moved across the huge foyer, nodding to a group of ER nurses, who grinned and exchanged knowing looks when they saw her.

Idly wondering what that was all about, she searched through her shoulder bag for her keys, looking up when someone called her name.

Two women who’d been at the bachelorette party the night before, approached. Kim Howard held aloft a folded daily newspaper. “Have you seen the tabloids?” Lilah frowned and shook her head wondering why she should be interested in the tabloids.

“You should take a look, girl,” Mandy Morgan advised her. “They’re calling you Wild Woman and speculating about which underwear house you’re moonlighting for.”

Lilah felt her mouth drop open. “Wha-what?”

Kim snapped open the newspaper and flipped it around so Lilah could see the headlines and color picture dominating the front page.

A loud buzzing noise filled Lilah’s ears and she thought she might faint. Beneath the headline “Wild Woman to the Rescue” was a picture of her diving off the pier. If she hadn’t been so horrified to see herself on the front page—in her underwear—she might have admired the almost perfect execution of the dive. As it was, her cheeks felt numb and her fingertips tingled as though she was about to pass out.

She grabbed the paper. “Oh, my God,” she whimpered, too shocked to do anything but gape at the large color pic.

“There’s more on page three.” Kim bumped her shoulder sympathetically and Lilah turned the page with shaking hands. She gasped when she saw a grainy picture showing her stripping off her dress in full view of an entire waterfront packed with people. There were others too: of her stepping from the boat onto the pier; giving Trent what appeared to be a passionate kiss; and a close-up of her and Luke Sullivan sharing an eye-lock. The caption read “Wild Woman and Dr. Oh-So-Dishy share a scorching hot look.”

Yikes.

She looked naked. She felt exposed and … and horrified. How could this happen? It was like she was back in high school and someone posted an embarrassing photograph of her on the bulletin board. Only worse. Because now everyone in Spruce Ridge could gawk at her in her underwear.

There was a pic of Luke in his wet boxer briefs looking buff and hunky. It was practically X-rated and Lilah could easily imagine thousands of women across the city drooling over him as they enjoyed their morning coffee.

“Where …?” She swallowed the hot lump of mortification that had settled in her throat and tried again. “Where the heck did these come from?” she rasped.

Kim’s sideways glance was sympathetic. “Cellphones probably.”

“Cellphones?” Lilah turned and gaped at her. “People were filming me with cellphones instead of doing something to help?” She knew she was getting a little hysterical and a lot outraged, but she felt outraged. “Two young people could have died while they whipped out their cellphones and caught it on video?”

Kim shrugged as if to say, Yeah, go figure and said, “Yay for teenagers and their technology. They must have made a fortune selling them to the tabloids.”

Lilah’s eyes dropped to the close-up of her and Luke Sullivan and felt her face go hot. That simmering instant of connection had been caught for all eternity by some pimply faced adolescent. “This is a nightmare.” Kim studied the picture and Lilah felt the other woman’s sideways look. “What?”

“It looks kind of hot. Like a freeze-frame from a movie where the romantic leads share a sexy moment.”

Lilah groaned and covered her face.

“It gets worse,” Mandy said, and squeezed Lilah’s shoulder in silent support.

“How can anything be worse than this?”

“Easy,” Kim said with a snicker. “You’ve gone viral.”

Luke approached the church and took the stone stairs to the open wooden doors. A wedding was the last place he wanted to be. He’d rather be caught in hostile territory without a weapon. But, last night, after he’d helped pour a wasted Greg into a taxi, he’d made a solemn promise that he’d be here.

He nodded to the guests gathered at the entrance and slipped his aviator shades into the inside pocket of his jacket. He’d had to buy a new suit, but considering the last one he’d owned was about nineteen years old he’d thought he was probably due for a new one. Especially if he was contemplating civilian life.

He might hate weddings and all they entailed but even he knew he couldn’t arrive dressed in black leather. Other than a duffle bag full of army fatigues, jeans and tees, leather was all he had in his meager wardrobe. And owning one suit didn’t mean he was turning out to be like his mother’s husbands.

Resigning himself to a few hours of excruciating torture, he accepted a program from a pimply-faced usher in an ill-fitting suit and moved into the church, choosing a seat near the back. He’d come solo partly because he didn’t know anyone outside of hospital personnel, and partly because women tended to get the kind of ideas at weddings that he wanted to avoid.

Besides, the only woman he’d been remotely attracted to since his arrival at SeaTac, just happened to think he was a card-carrying anarchist who couldn’t be trusted. At least, that’s what her expression had said this morning as she’d sashayed from a ward full of horny twenty-year-olds.

A low murmur of voices approached and a flash of ice-blue in his peripheral vision caught his attention. It was only when a tall curvy figure passed and moved further down the aisle that he realized it was the woman he’d just been thinking about. And she was being escorted by their boss, Dr. Peter Webster—smug ER director and all-round womanizing sleazebag.

Feeling his skull tighten, he watched as Webster indicated aisle seats a few rows down and slid in after her, moving until he was practically in her lap.

Luke narrowed his gaze and watched as Webster leaned close but with a quick head-shake Lilah Meredith shifted until there were a few inches between them. Were they involved or something?

And if he was asking himself what a married man was doing at a wedding without his wife, it was because he’d experienced first hand the devastation that kind of behavior left behind and not because the feeling in his gut felt very much like betrayal.

According to the grapevine, Webster had a habit of targeting young unmarried personnel and Luke wondered why no one had reported him. If there was one thing he hated more than a bully, it was someone using their position to sexually harass subordinates who needed their jobs.

And then he wondered why he cared that Lilah Meredith was involved with anyone. He didn’t.

After the service he joined a group of colleagues outside and waited for the newlyweds to leave the church. And while everyone pelted Greg and Jenna with rose petals Luke stood with his jacket slung over his shoulder and his free hand shoved into his pocket. When Lilah finally appeared, Webster’s proprietary hand was on the curve of her hip as he ushered her solicitously down the steps.

Solicitous, my eye, Luke snorted silently, and barely resisted the urge to head over and deck the smug bastard. He knew exactly what the man was thinking and it wasn’t good manners—especially not with Dr. Meredith dressed in that blue dress and short stylish black jacket. All she needed was a wide-brimmed black hat and she’d look like a sexy gaucho.

Besides, it was none of his business how, and with whom, Lilah Meredith spent her free time. For all he knew, she was enjoying all the attention she was getting from a “respected” professional who could do a lot for her career.

Besides, when he’d been a student it had been common knowledge that a lot of girls dated med students, hoping to snag themselves a doctor. He hadn’t thought Lilah Meredith was like that, but what the hell did he know?

Lilah drove through the huge iron gates and down the tree-lined road that led to the exclusive Greendale Hotel. Grimacing at the thought of how out of place her grandmother’s old sedan would look amongst all the luxury vehicles, she headed for the portico entrance. She didn’t know why she cared. It was way better than arriving in a low-slung sports car with a man who was not only her boss but reminded her of why her recent relief work in South America had gone so horribly wrong.

Peter Webster, with his charming smile, wandering hands and practiced seduction technique, was cut from the same cloth as her ex-boss, Dr. Brent Cunningham the Third—the person responsible for the Amazonian Disaster, as Lilah had come to think of that chapter in her life.

Like Brent, Peter suffered from a God complex and tended to think he was entitled to more than professional courtesy from his subordinates. As if Lilah should feel honored by his attention. She didn’t, and had experienced first hand what happened when men like him felt rejected and humiliated by someone like her. Careers suffered and lives were ruined.

Lilah told herself to remember that the next time she felt like kneeing the man in the nuts or punching that perfect nose. If there was one thing she hated, it was influential men taking advantage of vulnerable young women.

Lilah was neither that young nor vulnerable, unless you counted on the fact that she really needed this job. Besides, every time she looked in a mirror she was reminded that her own mother had fallen for a man just like Peter. Handsome, charming, married and wealthy. Rowan Franklin had swept her off her feet with promises of a bright and rosy future together. Only the future hadn’t turned out so rosy for Grace Meredith. She’d found herself alone, pregnant and out of a job.

Frankly, no matter how handsome or charming the man, Lilah had absolutely no intention of making the same mistake—even at the promise of career advancement.

Following the stream of cars to the hotel’s front entrance, she waited until a young uniformed valet approached her door before grabbing her clutch purse and sliding from behind the wheel.

She murmured her thanks and sent him a smile that made his ears turn red, before heading into the neo-classic lobby. A hundred feet overhead, late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the huge glass cupola and lit up the opulent marbled lobby like the sun god illuminating the temple of Zeus. Lilah had to blink a few times to dispel the image, especially when it highlighted a pair of broad shoulders, a wide tapering back and long muscular legs she recognized almost immediately—a figure that looked oddly out of place in the opulent surroundings when he should have looked right at home. Like a dangerous predator pretending to be housetrained.

She shivered at the image and decided it was the coiled readiness and lazily alert gaze that took in everything around him.

As though sensing her scrutiny, Luke Sullivan turned his head and an errant ray of sunshine fell across his face. It illuminated a slashing cheekbone, hard jaw and a surprisingly sculpted mouth, leaving the rest of his face in deep shadow.

She watched his unsmiling mouth for a couple of beats and shivered again—this time for an altogether different reason. Dammit. The man just had to look at her and she was reacting like a high-school sophomore with her first crush.