He couldn’t save his friend...

Can she save his bruised heart?

In this SOS Docs story, haunted by the fact he couldn’t save his best friend, brooding surgeon Chase Barrington dedicates himself to saving lives. He won’t get close to anyone again but is blindsided by a passionate kiss with stunning ex-army doc Kristina Morton. Suddenly Chase is on a roller coaster of emotions, but can he leave the past behind and embrace a future with Kristina?

SUE MACKAY lives with her husband in New Zealand’s beautiful Marlborough Sounds, with the water on her doorstep and the birds and the trees at her back door. It is the perfect setting to indulge her passions of entertaining friends by cooking them sumptuous meals, drinking fabulous wine, going for hill walks or kayaking around the bay—and, of course, writing stories

Also by Sue MacKay

Falling for Her Fake Fiancé

Her New Year Baby Surprise

Baby Miracle in the ER

Surprise Twins for the Surgeon

ER Doc’s Forever Gift

The Italian Surgeon’s Secret Baby

SOS Docs collection

Saved by Their One-Night Baby by Louisa George

Redeeming Her Brooding Surgeon

Available now

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Redeeming Her Brooding Surgeon

Sue MacKay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09004-9

REDEEMING HER BROODING SURGEON

© 2019 Sue MacKay

Published in Great Britain 2019

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.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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This book is dedicated to all those amazing people

who give their time and skills

to helping those less fortunate.

You rock.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

SCREECH. THUNK. METAL hitting concrete.

Men shouting.

‘Accident!’

‘Quelqu’un est blessé!’

‘Aidez-moi!’

Bang!

A swinging metal chain swiped the crane it was attached to, swinging outward.

More shouts and yells.

‘Cherchez le médecin!’

Kristina Morton spun around and began running towards the noise, her heavy pack bouncing on her back, aggravating damaged muscles.

‘I’m a doctor,’ she shouted to the security guard standing at the steel gate accessing the wharf where a freight ship was being loaded. Tapping her chest, she said, ‘Doctor. Me.’

The man shook his head. ‘Non.’ He pointed to another ship. ‘Docteur.’

‘Oui.’ Pointing in the same direction, Kristina uttered one of about five French words she knew. ‘Yes, I’m a doctor joining that ship. Doctor.’

Rolling her shoulders back, she slid out of the straps of her pack and dug into a side pocket, handed over her wharf pass. Written in French, it did say she was a doctor. Didn’t it? She hadn’t taken a lot of notice when she’d received it along with other documents at the hotel reception desk where she’d stayed in central Marseilles last night.

The lock clanged open and the gate swung wide, allowing a man in fluorescent overalls to run frantically towards the SOS Poseidon, the Medicine For All charity ship Kristina had been bound for.

The guard called after him with urgency and Kristina took the opportunity to slip into the sealed-off area, her pack knocking against her good leg. It wasn’t hard to see what’d happened. Seventy metres along the wharf pieces of a metal cage were spread across a wide area, and from under what looked like a side of the crate protruded a pair of legs, while the man’s helmet-encased head was under the edge bar. Men were clustering around, waving their hands and yelling at each other.

‘Oh, hell.’ She ran faster, reached the men and dropped to her knees with a hard thump. Ignoring the pain that set off in her injured thigh, she shouted, ‘I’m a doctor.’ ‘Doctor’ sounded similar to the French version; surely they’d get the message? Too bad if they didn’t, she was already observing the man crushed under the steel strops meant to hold the side of the cage together, except they’d sprung apart on impact. ‘What’s his name?’ she asked without thinking, and got a surprise when someone replied.

‘Antoine. Is he unconscious?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Reaching under the metal for his wrist proved impossible, it was too far in, so she pressed a finger on his carotid. ‘Antoine, can you hear me?’ Damn. He wouldn’t understand her. ‘Can you talk to him, see if he’s responsive?’ she asked the man who spoke English, before focusing on the pulse rate. Normal. So far so good, but still a long way to go.

She couldn’t understand what he said to Antoine but she recognised the flickering eyelids. The helmet had done its job. A quick appraisal showed blood seeping through Antoine’s trousers from his groin where a metal shaft had lodged. Her heart stuttered as the memory of a similar injury swamped her. Automatically her hand went to her thigh and rubbed down the ridge of scar tissue.

‘I told him you’re a doctor. I’ll get some men to lift this.’ The man now squatting next to her knocked the cage.

‘Get them ready, but don’t move it yet. Antoine’s bleeding. Removing the pressure could cause a haemorrhage.’ Bleeding out wasn’t an option on her watch. Not again. The guilt at not being able to prevent Corporal Higgs dying had not dissipated so much that this didn’t unnerve her. Not that she’d been in any position to help the soldier, being disabled herself, but doctors were meant to save people, no matter what. ‘I need something to make a wad to press over the bleeding.’

Moments later Kristina was handed a small bundle of shirt pieces folded into squares, while another man was tearing his shirt into strips to tie the wads in place. She wouldn’t think about the hygiene aspect, containing the bleeding was the priority.

‘Thank you. Merci.’ The odd angle of Antoine’s left leg indicated a fracture above the knee. ‘Be careful, don’t hit this when you take the grill away.’ She pointed to the rod.

‘It’s attached. It’ll pull out.’

She hadn’t noticed that. Now she’d prefer the man unconscious. He needed morphine, fast. ‘Can you send someone to the Poseidon and get a doctor to bring drugs for pain and some oxygen?’

The man looked along the wharf. ‘Someone’s coming. He’s got a bag and a small tank. Is that what you want?’

‘I hope so.’

The man was there in an instant, barely puffing despite his sprint. ‘I’m a doctor.’ He hunkered down on the opposite side of Antoine’s legs.

‘Me, too,’ Kristina told him. ‘I was headed for the Poseidon when this happened. Kristina Morton.’ She held her hand out.

His hand gripped hers briefly, firm and electric.

Shock ripped through Kristina. Rubbing her arm, she stared at him. What just happened? He’d sent fire through her veins with a handshake? Unreal. She was supposed to be focused on a man in distress, not this one with the most intriguing face she’d ever encountered.

A startled look was reflected in the dark depths of his eyes, too. Had he felt that spark? ‘Chase Barrington, SARCO.’

Shock of another kind rocked her. This was Chase? The man who caused his family heartache on a regular basis? No one had told her he was hot! ‘I met your sister when I was a locum at Merrywood Medical Centre. I finished a fortnight ago.’ His brother-in-law, Jarrod, was one of the partners there.

‘Libby told me.’ He gave her a sharp look. ‘Bring me up to speed.’ Chase was taking charge.

Typical. She’d worked with enough male doctors in masculine environments to know the signs. ‘There’s a rod intruding into Antoine’s groin that’s attached to the grill. I’m hoping you’ve got morphine in your pack.’

‘Yes, and compression pads.’ Chase nudged the kit with his foot, and focused on the man needing his attention.

Leaving Kristina to get her breath back and stop feeling flustered by Doc Barrington’s touch. She could tell him to get the pads himself, but time was of the essence, not her pride. Finding the morphine, she read the date out loud, gave the vial to her counterpart to cross-reference before drawing up a dose. Once administered, she opened packs of compression pads, ready for the grill to be lifted away.

Chase was methodically checking for further injuries on Antoine’s body without jarring the grill. No wasted movements, his lean body muscular without being heavy. Picture perfect. So not good for her pulse. Deep breath, concentrate—on Antoine, not the SARCO. But he was so distracting. She closed her eyes, opened them and watched.

Without stopping those long fingers moving over Antoine, he told her, ‘Ribs staved in, fractured femur and arm, blood loss from where the humerus protrudes, and I don’t like the look of his mouth. It’s possible he’s bitten his tongue.’ He was good, and thorough. Impressive in more ways than that magnificent body.

She nodded. ‘Let’s do this. The sooner we can get to him the better.’ It was hard not to glance at Chase for another take on those muscles shaping his loose T-shirt but she managed. Looking behind to the men waiting to help, she said, ‘On the count of three lift the grill—very slowly.’

The moment their patient was free she was pressing a pad onto the wound in his groin. ‘The femoral artery’s torn. Is there a catheter in your kit I can put in to keep the blood flow in the artery?’

‘Unfortunately not.’ Chase was gently removing the man’s helmet in preparation for putting a facemask on Antoine for the oxygen. ‘I haven’t got a neck brace either.’

Kristina continued working on the haemorrhaging, making do with what was on hand, but the sooner help arrived in the form of a well-equipped ambulance the better. ‘Has anyone called the emergency services?’

‘Oui,’ replied a man hovering in the background.

Like magic, the sound of a siren filled the air.

Kristina didn’t relax. Antoine wasn’t out of trouble by a long way.

A quick glance showed Chase working as hard, diagnosing all the injuries while keeping an eye on the man’s breathing. There was a determined look on his face that said, I am not letting you die, Antoine. Something they had in common.

But anything else? She doubted it. The little she’d heard from Libby and Jarrod indicated she and Chase were like north and south. She was looking for a place to settle down and feel as though she belonged, a place where she wouldn’t be thrown aside at anyone’s behest, while this man apparently did not have the time or inclination for stopping still. He was driven. Not that she’d been told by what.

The ambulance squealed to a halt beside them. Instantly paramedics were moving in, asking questions in rapid French she didn’t understand. Continuing monitoring their man, she left Chase to answer them.

‘How’s that bleeding?’ he asked her moments later. ‘Still bad?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded around the relief that getting Antoine to hospital fast was now happening, as long as the paramedics didn’t take too long preparing him for the trip there.

‘We’ve done all we can. The paramedics are taking charge,’ Chase said, his hands clenched on his thighs, his jaw tight, and his eyes fixed on the two men as they put a cardboard splint on the broken leg and a brace around their patient’s neck. He wanted to remain in control, was itching to continue working on Antoine.

Kristina knew that feeling but moved back, knowing she would not be thanked for doing anything else. The paramedics knew what they were doing, and were used to working without the luxury of all the equipment an emergency department came with, but couldn’t they get a hurry along? Glancing at Chase again, the same thought was reflected in his steady green gaze.

When Antoine was finally loaded into the ambulance, relief loosened the tension gripping Kristina and she was free to walk away, if only her feet would move. Staring across the now quiet wharf, her gaze fell on the ship she’d be working on for the next three months, sharing the space with a man who had her hormones in a lather already. She’d be toast by the end of her time on board.

It had been Jarrod who’d suggested she do a spell with Medicine For All, instead of taking on the locum job in the far north of Scotland she’d been half-heartedly considering.

Watching men and women walking up the gangway laden with heavy packs for the start of the next three-week stint, tiredness enveloped her. She was weary of constantly moving from place to place, locum position to locum position, and not having somewhere of her own to return to after each contract finished. MFA was merely another diversion. It was harder this time because she’d finally found what she’d been looking for.

The quaint town of Merrywood and its friendly folk had sucked her in, made her welcome and comfortable in a way she hadn’t known since she was ten and her family had imploded, leaving her bewildered and alone. She’d wanted to stay on, continue working at the medical centre and buy a cottage on the riverbank, only there was no job once the doctor she’d been covering for returned. However, Jarrod had told her to stay in touch and drop in when her time with MFA was up as he might know of a position for her. She planned on doing exactly that, fingers crossed and expectations high.

‘Time to go aboard and meet everyone.’ Chase stood beside her, legs tense, his eyes constantly on the move.

‘I’m looking forward to this.’ The organisation did amazing work with refugees and other people in need of medical attention in horrific parts of the world, and to be a part of it was awesome. And in case Jarrod didn’t come up with the goods, she’d have time to research small towns and medical centres in the south of England in the hope of finding that same enticing family-orientated atmosphere she’d found in Merrywood.

Why did she look to the man beside her? He wasn’t the answer to her need to settle down. From what she’d heard, Chase Barrington could no more stop in one place than he could knit a blanket for a baby.

‘What made you decide to give Medicine For All a go?’ Chase asked as they walked out of the secure area.

‘I’m getting tired of locum work. I start to feel settled and then have to pack up and leave again. Jarrod suggested MFA and how I might fit in. Once I started delving into the organisation I knew I had to give it a go and contacted Liam.’ The director had been effusive when she’d volunteered. Though again she’d be moving on afterwards.

* * *

Fit in. Chase studied the slender woman before him. Get under his skin, more like. His brother-in-law had been chuckling when he’d told Chase how Kristina Morton was perfect for the summer operation in the Mediterranean. Yes, he’d known who’d put her up to signing up and until now had had no problem with it. All doctors were welcome any time. But now Chase had to question what fates had put this doctor on this mission. ‘You want to get away from GP work?’

Her laughter was soft and sweet, and stirred him. Not that he wanted to be stirred by a beautiful woman. Or any woman. He’d put her where he put any female who managed to tweak his interest—out of his mind.

‘Not at all.’ Her shrug was tight. ‘It’s just that I would like something permanent, somewhere to get to know people beyond their headaches and high blood pressures.’

Good. The complete opposite from him. ‘You like ships? Being at sea, getting tossed around in storms?’

Another shrug. ‘Wouldn’t have a clue, but I’m about to find out.’

There was more to this. For someone who wanted permanence she seemed to move around as much as he did. Not that he was about to ask her about it. That spoke of being interested and getting involved. Not his thing. ‘Liam’s a great advocate for our organisation. Without him we wouldn’t get half the volunteers that sign up.’ If not for Liam, who knew where he’d be working right now? For all he knew, it could’ve been in Africa, Asia, New Guinea, anywhere there were lives that needed to be saved. That was his mission in life. Not that he’d ever make up for the loss of his best friend, Nick, but he would keep trying. One day the guilt might run out. Might.

‘I didn’t stand a chance once he started in on me,’ the woman matching his strides admitted. Then her eyes went a bit sad.

He wasn’t asking about that either. They’d reached the security gate. ‘Yours?’ He nodded at a pack and roll mat the guard held out.

‘Thanks.’ She stretched for them.

‘I’ll take those.’ Chase reached out at the same time. His fingers skimmed across hers before wrapping around a shoulder strap on the pack. A jolt of heat caught at him. Spinning sideways, he swung the pack over one shoulder and hooked the mat under his arm then headed for the ship, ignoring Kristina and the inferno in his blood. That was the second time he’d felt the heat around her.

Unfortunately she kept up with him. ‘I don’t expect you to carry my gear.’

Chase stopped as quickly as he’d taken off. ‘I’m not trying to show you up as incapable. I’m exercising the manners I was taught as a lad.’ If not in the polite way his father expected.

‘It’s just...’ She hesitated, seemed to be thinking how to say whatever was bothering her. ‘I’m ex-army. No one ever carries your pack there.’

He’d read in her CV about Kristina being ex-military. And the evidence was in front of him in her upright, controlled deportment—and apparently in her determination to carry her own pack. Because she’d heated his blood and stirred him with her soft laugh, he was going to rock her boat. ‘You’re not in the army now. I’ll carry these to the ship.’

‘Fine.’ Her mouth drifted up into a lazy smile, stirring him tighter. He should’ve walked right past the blasted gear and its owner. It was as though she was poking him with sharp pins to wake him up from a long, deep sleep. But he wasn’t asleep and as far as he could tell Kristina hadn’t come armed with anything sharp, except maybe her tongue.

Chase pulled on his co-ordinator’s hat; only way to go. ‘I saw in your CV that you’ve worked in quite a few different medical jobs.’

The smile slipped away slowly, painfully. The light that had begun shining in her eyes faded. ‘I have.’

Again, there was more to this than the simplicity the words suggested. If she wasn’t saying anything else it had to be that something had happened to affect her badly. He’d respect that, because he understood too well about keeping fears close, and pain closer. Suddenly he wanted her smile to return. ‘On board we tend to treat one another kindly, no ordering anyone to do anything.’

Her nod was abrupt. ‘Good.’

Try again. ‘The refugees are going to love that calm manner you showed with Antoine.’

‘That’s me. Calm throughout a crisis, a bit rocky afterwards.’

‘No one would know that from helping Antoine.’ There. A subtle lifting of those lips he’d have missed if he hadn’t been watching for it. His heart lightened. Then her perfume wafted across his nose and he pictured pine cones on the fire at home. Pine and roses. Yes, the strange mix that was home was this woman’s scent. A scent he was not going to get out of his senses in a hurry. They’d just met, and she’d found a way to get under his skin already.

It didn’t bode well for his sanity when they’d be crammed together for weeks with all the other medical staff in the small spaces that were the ship’s medical facilities. They’d probably end up hating the sight of each other. It happened. There was little privacy, no space to think without being interrupted. Having no alone time did a number on everyone, especially on those used to their own company; like himself. Something about how Kristina held herself, self-contained, suggested she’d fit into that group.

Chase began striding towards the ship again. ‘I think most people have arrived.’ He automatically scanned the people at the gangway. And tripped. Ethan Reid stood at the bottom of the gangway, looking directly at him.

Chase’s heart began a low thump, thump. So much of who he’d become was tied up in that man. And Nick.

The past charged at him in waves, winding him, curdling his stomach, raising the fear of not being able to save those he loved, bringing ice and snow pushing away the warm summer air, suffocating him. Death. Not his. Nick’s. The crippling guilt.

I can’t do this.

Yes, he could. He had no choice. He’d been the one to put out the feelers, asking Ethan to step up to the promise he’d made way back then. If ever you need me, call.

Right now Chase rued that phone call, even though it had been about helping others. But it was done. He needed to start moving forward, towards Ethan, the man he had saved instead of Nick, and the hideous past they needed to dispel, or at least subdue so they could work together. Would they be able to talk about what had happened that fateful day in the Alps? About why certain people had survived when others hadn’t? Why Nick had died, and Ethan had survived? Why he’d had to make that choice about who to save even when there really was no choice? Turning his back on Nick as the last breaths left his body had haunted him ever since, and made him go over it again and again looking for a way to change the outcome.

‘Chase? Are you all right?’ Kristina’s question seemed to come from miles away. Her hand gripped his arm, shaking him, soft and endearing in her touch.

‘Yes,’ he lied, stunned at how easily she saw past his barriers, how she was there with him. No one did that. No one. He shrugged free of her hand, his eyes firmly locked on Reid. Don’t think you’re getting the chance either. His past rose higher, flared, threatening to overwhelm him. Bile soured his tongue. ‘I’ve got to talk to that man.’ It was that or charge past him to shut himself away in his cabin and not come out for six weeks. Six weeks. Why had he made that blasted phone call?

Ethan was walking towards him like they did this every day, but as he got closer Chase saw the tight lines around his mouth, the rigidness in his shoulders. Chase’s heart was still drumming that slow, heavy rhythm as he nudged his feet forward. ‘I’d have known you anywhere.’ Even after sixteen years.

‘Same.’ Ethan did the unexpected. He embraced Chase, tight, strong, hard.

Tears sprang to Chase’s eyes. He refused to let them out. Refused. And won, by a scratch. Stepping back, he stared at the other man who’d haunted him for so long. Thump, thump, in his chest. This was relief over finally meeting up. It was time. Not that he had any expectations of this being an easy ride. No, the coming weeks were going to test patience and forgiveness on both their parts.

‘I’ll take my gear,’ came the voice of female reason from behind him.

He barely noticed Kristina lifting the weight from his shoulder, although as she began walking away and he was watching Ethan, she slipped into his mind, sitting on the edge, like she was not going to be easy to ignore. Right now that was about the only thing he was certain of.

Hell, Nick, what have I done?

CHAPTER ONE
Six weeks later

‘KRIS, GOT A MINUTE? I’d like you to look at my patient.’

Kristina Morton ignored the man, even when his voice was like fingers picking at keys on a piano. Only that morning everyone had returned on board from a three-day break, and she’d missed him way too much for someone she wasn’t involved with.

‘Kris, over here,’ Chase called again, a little less friendly and a lot louder.

She continued walking through the overcrowded cabin towards the steps leading out on deck. About once a week he used the abridged version of her name, winding her up something awful. He hadn’t a clue to the depth of anger and hurt being called Kris caused her—neither was he about to.

‘Kristina, your attention now.’

Kristina’s back straightened, her chin jutted forward and her arm began lifting in a salute. Stop. You’re not in the army now. Being the person in charge of personnel on this ship didn’t give Chase the right to shout at her. Or shorten her name. But, she sighed, he had finally used the name she answered to. Slowly turning, she asked calmly, ‘Which patient do you want me to see?’

Determination radiated out of eyes that reminded her of an English forest on a damp day. Chase wasn’t used to being ignored. Everyone complied with his requests no questions asked, but then they weren’t usually delivered as abruptly. So it was her that got his boxers in a twist. Good. Because he certainly kept her panties in a knot. Those sparks she’d experienced on day one of this adventure hadn’t died down one bit. Instead, they’d got brighter, sharper, hotter during the weeks of working together. Neither of them had made a move to explore where that raw attraction might lead. She did her best not to be alone with Chase, and suspected he did the same, but the relentless ache was getting to her, and she spoke more abruptly than she’d intended. ‘Is it the pregnant lady needing help?’

‘Sorry I yelled,’ he growled around a wary smile. ‘You didn’t seem to be hearing me.’

‘Really?’ She tipped her head sideways, locked her gaze with his and tried to deny the surge of longing those eyes brought on. Another six weeks of working alongside him. Keep this up and she’d either dislike him intensely or have gone raving mad with desire by the time she left the ship for good. Somehow she doubted dislike would make it onto the ladder.

Chase blinked and his face relaxed some more. ‘Yes, that lady. She won’t let me near. No doubt because I’m male.’

‘You know that’s not uncommon.’ The pregnant women who arrived on the ship via the rescue efforts weren’t used to men pressing their bellies and listening to their unborn babies through stethoscopes.

‘I keep hoping for a different outcome.’ Chase smiled ruefully. She knew he ached for these people like she did. ‘This woman doesn’t speak English.’

‘I’ll find Zala and ask her to explain what we’re doing and if it’s all right to continue.’

Chase’s chin lifted a notch. ‘Zala?’

Kristina smiled to herself. Chase wasn’t the only one who got onside with the refugees effortlessly. He just thought he was. ‘She arrived yesterday. I overheard her asking for water in English.’ Not that it had been easy to understand her mangled pronunciation, but when she’d handed the girl a bottle of water she’d received the most beautiful smile imaginable and a garbled thank you. ‘I don’t know how much she understands but any is better than none.’

‘Agreed. Bring her in and see if we get any further with our patient.’

Kristina gasped. Why hadn’t her senses warned her Chase had moved closer? Suddenly her body was getting up to speed with the fact that this man was too near, sharing the same air as her. Damn the attraction for those arms and legs, for the flat stomach and strong jawline nailing her feet to the floor. She’d spent six long weeks trying to kill off the annoying magnetism Chase’s body had for her. Her mind had it worked out—he was not a man to get close to. He was self-contained in every aspect, appeared to work every hour day and night, was on a life mission to save people no matter where that took him—or so the gossip went. Gossip that fitted with what Libby had told her. She couldn’t risk falling for someone who couldn’t settle down in a place for more than one Christmas in a row. Because, while she wasn’t any better, she was at least working on it.

Time to try some other tactic for moving past the unusual longing to get to know this man who dominated her mind so much. He was all wrong for her, as she was for him. He didn’t have time for anyone who wasn’t a patient in need of his extraordinary medical skills, so she had to stop thinking about him in any role other than the director from whom she took orders. Instructions, not orders. Whichever.

Dreaming about his body and what she’d like to do with it didn’t change the fact she had no room for people who didn’t have time for her. There’d been enough already, starting with her parents. Adding someone else to the list was a recipe for disaster, especially when she had an uneasy feeling that she could get a weeny bit too intrigued by Chase.

Out on deck Kristina made her way through the hordes of people waiting patiently in the shade provided by tarpaulins strung from bulkheads to railings to be seen by the medical staff. Her heart ached for them and made her grateful she could help with their untreated deep-tissue injuries, burns from fuel, malnourishment, infections. Thank goodness Claire had left the ship. Her pregnancy made her vulnerable to illnesses she wasn’t prepared for. Now, there was someone whose life had changed since coming on board the ship. Claire had found love and a wonderful future to look forward to with Ethan.

Kristina shoved aside her envy and focused on reality. ‘Zala,’ she called.

‘Hello?’ The girl glanced at her from under lowered eyebrows.

‘How are you?’ She spoke slowly in order to be understood.

‘All right.’

‘Good. You had food?’

‘Yes.’

Kristina again looked around at the people sprawled on the hard deck, hunger, fear, worry in every pair of eyes watching her. If only she could fix everything for all of them. Back to Zala. ‘Can you help me talk to a woman who needs a doctor to examine...? To look at her baby.’

‘I...’ Zala tapped her chest. ‘I say what you say my way?’

‘Yes.’ Kristina nodded. ‘I’ll keep it simple.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘That’s all right.’ She reached for the girl’s hand, hesitated. Touching didn’t always mean the same thing to people from the Sudan as it did to Westerners. Retracting her hand, she said, ‘Come with me.’

Back in the treatment room, persistent Chase had returned to his pregnant patient, holding out a water bottle and talking softly, even though not a word was being understood. Around here it was all about the tone of voice and not the words. ‘I think we’re in labour,’ he told Kristina.

‘How do you know?’

‘The way her body stiffens every three minutes.’

Yea, she got her first smile of the morning. He should do that more often, it lightened the green of his eyes to that of a summer’s day in the fields. And set her heart dancing. Damn.

‘She’s not going to want you here.’ Kristina focused on the woman, avoiding getting tangled up in Chase’s searching looks and that blood-warming smile. ‘Do we know of any problems that could make delivery difficult?’

The woman caught her breath and pushed around the tightening in her extended belly.

‘Minor fever. Exhaustion that’s probably due to the pregnancy.’

‘Fingers crossed the baby hasn’t been infected with anything.’ Kristina indicated to Zala to move closer. ‘This woman’s having a baby.’

Zala nodded as if to say, So what? Seeing a birth was probably part of everyday life for her. There’d be no racing off to a hospital or calling out the midwife where she came from.

‘I’m clearing all male staff to the other side of the room,’ Chase said. ‘Call me if you need anything.’

‘I don’t think I’ve got much of a role here either,’ she said, before turning to the woman Zala said was called Marjali. Light stretch marks on the skin covering the extended abdomen confirmed this was not her first pregnancy. ‘She’ll know what to do as much as I do.’ More than I do.

Sweat shone on the woman’s forehead as she pushed and groaned. Zala sat at her other side and chattered in short, sharp sentences before telling Kristina, ‘Four babies. Two alive. On boat with her and father.’

‘Are they all right?’ What had happened to the other children? Kristina’s heart squeezed. She’d never get used to the despair these people faced daily. There were times she felt so inadequate she wondered if it would be better to leave them to what they were used to and not offer promises through medicine. But she hadn’t become a doctor only to turn her back on anyone needing her skills.

When her twelve weeks with Medicine For All were up she’d head back to England. She wouldn’t do another stint on the ship. It was too distressing. Many of the medical people who worked in the organisation coped well with—or managed to hide—their emotions. She struggled to do either.

A sharp cry brought Kristina back to the marvel that lay before her. The baby’s head was crowning while Zala chattered, excitement filling her dark eyes.

Kristina smiled as she watched the baby inching its way into the world. What was it like to give birth? To have a baby of your own? To hold him or her in your arms for the first time? She never gave much thought to it, afraid she wasn’t capable of being a good mother. Her own mother had taken her to Los Angeles when she’d left her father, but had been quick to hand her back when the new man in her life said he’d marry her as long as Kris wasn’t part of the package.

The man’s wealth spoke strongly to her mother’s lifelong fear of ever being poor again, and Kristina had been returned to England and her other parent, who’d immediately deposited her in boarding school because he’d been too busy to be there for her.

A sharp cry from Marjali and a tiny new life with the cutest face and a smattering of tight curls was delivered with one final push.

‘Oh, he’s beautiful.’ Kristina’s eyes moistened as she cut the cord and took the baby to check his temperature and general appearance before placing him on the scales attached to the nearby wall. Back home, with a weight of two kilograms, he’d have been admitted to the neonatal unit. Here all they could do was get nutrients into him so he might put on a gram or two before leaving. It could’ve been worse given the circumstances. Laying baby across his mother’s tummy, she said, ‘You made it look easy.’

Zala looked perplexed. ‘Women have babies. It’s normal.’

‘You’re right.’ Again she wondered about the odds of having her own baby. Strange how she was thinking about this. She hadn’t found a man to love her no matter what, let alone have a baby with, a man who wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself while he went off to follow his own dreams. That should be enough to knock her attraction to Chase out of the paddock. Since joining this ship she’d seen him playing with some of the youngsters who came on board, laughing with them, chasing a football and making sure each kid had a turn at scoring a goal. He understood them, enjoyed them, so why not want a family?

Crossing to a cupboard for cloths to clean Marjali, she passed Chase. ‘All done. One new little man has arrived in the world.’

‘That was fast. Does the baby appear healthy? In as much as you can tell without doing tests?’

‘A bit underweight.’

‘We’ll keep an eye on him while he’s with us.’ That was Chase-speak for making sure there were extra rations for Marjali over the coming days. What happened after she left the ship was out of their hands. Their job was to deal with these people for the time they were in their care, and then move on to the next intake.

‘Life’s so complex, yet Marjali makes this seem simple,’ she sighed, watching the woman cradling her son. Zala sat cross-legged, still talking non-stop, reaching out to touch the tiny bundle pushing into his mother’s breast, not knowing what to do when he found a nipple. But his mother did. Soon he was suckling. Whether he was getting anything nutritious was unlikely given Marjali’s malnourished condition.

‘Very unlucky for some,’ Chase said. Then looked directly at her, stealing her breath. ‘Sorry if that sounds simplistic.’

‘A lot of how our lives turn out comes down to where we are born, doesn’t it?’ There were the wild cards that life dealt when a person wasn’t looking but luck did contribute to how and where he or she sorted out those problems.

‘You think?’ His eyes sparkled and his mouth lifted into a weary smile.

‘I do.’ She smiled back, enjoying the connection without her hormones doing their dance. Then her back gave a stab of pain, and she tightened up, held still.

‘Hey, you okay?’ His instant concern could undo her resolve not to give in to the attraction between them. ‘You seem to be hurting more than usual.’

He noticed that pain struck her sometimes? ‘I’m good. An injury I received in the army is playing up, that’s all.’ She gasped. She never, ever mentioned that, not even light-heartedly.

His concern deepened. ‘Are you serious? Is that why you got out?’

She shook her head, wanting to deny the truth. But she couldn’t lie. ‘I took an honourable discharge. My back acquired a dislike to humping around overweight packs and war gear.’ She’d tried for light and friendly, thought she’d succeeded until she saw something in Chase’s steady gaze that said he wasn’t fooled. Something that drew her to tell him, ‘I took a severe wound to my thigh and twisted my back. It’s taking time but I’m coming right.’ She turned towards her patient, needing to shut down this conversation.

Chase said softly, ‘Glad to hear that, Kris.’

Her eyes closed and her head dipped. ‘Kristina.’

He chuckled. ‘Kristina.’

‘You...’ she spluttered as she turned back to him. ‘You’re deliberately winding me up.’ She laughed, for real this time.

‘Worth it to see your eyes widen as though I’d swiped one of your chocolate biscuits when you weren’t looking.’

Which he had a penchant for.

As Kristina absorbed Chase’s presence, her feet once again glued to the floor, the sparks that had flickered on and off between them since they’d met over Antoine suddenly became a raging fire in her veins. Worse, Chase was recognising her reaction.

Definitely time to put any dumb ideas about letting this attraction rule her head into the recycle bin. The only way to do that was to front up and explain she wasn’t interested. In other words, lie her heart out. Tonight she’d do something about it, despite Chase never acknowledging the magnetism hovering between them. There were moments when he looked at her as though he wanted her. That was when her body really hummed; and her mind argued with it. Tonight she would not go to her bunk the moment she’d eaten dinner to get some sleep before the next draining shift began. No, she’d face up to Chase and deal with this annoying interference that crossed her day too often, sending her into an uncontrollable tailspin.

* * *

‘Hey, Reid, how’s things?’ Chase settled his butt against the bulkhead of his private corner and stared out to sea, the phone hard against his ear.

‘I’m good. You?’

Chase let out a long, satisfying breath. ‘Another day almost done; more people helped, saved, fixed.’ The relief was immense. He could rest easy—until the next day got under way. Ethan would understand where he was coming from. ‘Not sure you’re aware you left your tablet on board. I can send it out on the helicopter and have them courier it to you.’

‘Keep it there till I come back. I don’t need it for the next couple of weeks. Claire doesn’t leave me time for reading.’ Ethan chuckled.

‘Glad to hear she’s keeping you on your toes.’ Chase grinned, and couldn’t deny the envy sweeping through him. ‘You decided where you’re going to look for work after you finish with us?’

‘I’ve been talking to the local refugee centre. If there’s a vacancy coming up in Marseille then I want my name on it.’ Ethan filled him in on what he’d been doing since he and Claire had left SOS Poseidon.

Chase listened avidly, enjoying the camaraderie—something he hadn’t known since he’d withdrawn from getting close to people after the loss of Nick. He was still hesitant about letting loose and talking about anything and everything, but every day over the past six weeks when Ethan had worked on board they’d inched closer and the tension had eased somewhat. He still wasn’t ready to let go the guilt about not saving Nick. And until he did that Reid would never get close.

For a span of time, standing here in his own small zone, letting Reid in, he could almost accept he’d made up for the past, could almost believe he deserved a chance at a future. Almost. Until he hit the pillow and the memories came knocking, and Nick appeared in his head. Then he’d have to get out of bed to start over.

‘Anyone special in your life?’ Ethan asked. When Chase growled, he added sadly, ‘Just learning about you. You know?’

Yeah, he knew. There was so much between them, and yet even more they hadn’t a clue about. ‘The answer to that should be obvious. There’s no one for a very good reason.’ Chase ignored the flare of pain. And the image of Kristina Morton that flashed into his mind. She might be as sexy as anything, but there was something about her that said don’t touch unless you’re serious. He was serious about having sex with her, but nothing more.

‘So you’re not interested in Kristina?’

Silence. He couldn’t lie. Neither would he give Reid ammunition to give him a hard time.

Ethan sighed. ‘She makes you laugh when no one else does. As for the sparks between the two of you, they had me looking for the fire extinguisher.’

Again Chase ignored him. Those comments were too close for comfort. If this was what having a friend was like, he didn’t need one. Except over the previous six weeks he had begun to look forward to moments talking with Ethan. ‘Nothing’s going to come of those sparks. I’m all work and no play.’ He already had parents and a sister who loved him and who he couldn’t risk letting down—like he believed he had Nick even knowing he couldn’t have changed a thing. The guilt did that to him. This getting a little friendlier with Reid didn’t mean he was capable of allowing a woman close.

The breeze moved around him, fanning his face. ‘Got to go. Talk to you again.’

Kristina slipped up beside him. Apparently she had no qualms about intruding into his private spot out here. From the first trip of the summer it had got around that this particular corner was his, and no one encroached. No one until tonight. Sure, he’d rung Ethan, and been relaxed about talking to him here, because it had been his choice. But... ‘Kristina?’

The breeze also held that scent of pine and flowers. That sweet and spicy aroma went with her all over the ship. Sometimes it followed him into sleep at night. Those were the times he woke restless and in need of a cold shower.

Why did she invade his privacy like she had a right to? Funny how he couldn’t find it in him to care. Instead, he felt unusually happy she’d joined him, a feeling he couldn’t explain, neither was he about to try. It didn’t mean he was letting her close. He hadn’t lost all his faculties. They might’ve locked eyes over breakfast, sending the temperature in the room off the scale, but he’d had to deny the need boiling in his gut. Had to. How they’d walked away from each other was a mystery. So send her away before it happened again.

‘Please, don’t call me Kris.’

‘Kristina. Got it.’ That morning he’d kept crossing paths with her as they’d gone about their patients, and the tension in his body had wound tighter and tighter. Calling her Kris had been a deliberate wind-up. He’d thought she’d be angry, but instead she’d made him laugh.

‘Good.’

‘Other people must shorten your name.’ There had to be a reason Kris upset her. She wasn’t the type to be precious about her name. She carried herself with confidence and the upright stance common to military personnel. That poise kept everyone on their toes, including him, until one day on the last trip he’d seen a wealth of pain glittering in her eyes as they’d watched a child being buried at sea. Her tiny heart had given up within hours of coming on board—lack of food, too much sun, and who knew what else had taken the ultimate toll. It had been personally painful for him. Failing to save that girl despite doing everything possible and then some to bring her back to life had pained him.

He hadn’t asked Kristina what was behind her agony. Things like that were too private to share. Hell, he was still getting used to the idea of him and Reid talking about the avalanche that had altered their lives for ever, and how Ethan had said they both had to learn to let go and move on. As if it was that easy. It could be. Oh, sure.

Leaning her elbows on the rail, Kristina stared out over the moonlit Mediterranean and breathed deeply, saying nothing.

A female who didn’t talk the lid off a pot? Nothing like Libby, then. His sister never knew when to stop gabbing at him about why he should stop wandering the world and return home to be near the family. Chase sighed. He came out here for solitude while he went through his day and gave himself a pat on the back if he’d saved anyone. But right now he craved to hear Kristina’s voice, couldn’t bear this silence between them. He went with something innocuous. ‘So you and Libby got on okay?’

‘She makes the best blueberry muffins ever.’ Kristina’s head bobbed, and hair fell across her cheek. It was rare for her to let it free from the severe ponytail that was her signature style. Army style?

Many times over the past weeks he’d itched to flick the thick rope that fell down her back, pull away the band holding it in place to run his fingers through the golden waves. Shoving his fists deep into his pockets, he trawled his mind for something safe to say. ‘What did you think of Merrywood?’

Kristina turned so the small of her back rested against the rail and a soft chuckle winded him with its warmth. ‘I loved it. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming, I wanted to stay on.’ Her fingers intertwined across her belly, tightening his gut further.

So much for playing safe. ‘It can become claustrophobic, though. Especially when you’re a teenager and don’t want your parents finding out you’ve been smoking down by the river with your pals.’

There was a wistfulness in her eyes as she said, ‘Surely that’s part of belonging somewhere?’

Yep, and it tied a person to everyone so that when things went wrong they all were affected. Chase watched her hands making slow circular movements over her abdomen. Was she aware she did that whenever she went all thoughtful?

This time the urge to make her talk, to break down her barriers didn’t bat him around the ears. Instead he relaxed, leaned against the rail, and went with being beside her, trying to accept this was as intimate as they should get. He had nothing to offer her other than a quick romp in the sack and they weren’t doing that. He didn’t trust this thing gripping him to let him go afterwards.

But Kristina was unlike any other woman who’d pressed his buttons. She pressed them hard. Could that be the reason for his restlessness? He wasn’t in the market for a partner. Not when he had to be finding more people to save, trying to redeem himself for Nick. How many more lives would it take to be free of the guilt?

Chase pushed the past aside, took a deep breath. The air was soft and warm, not cooling as the sun dropped below the horizon. Summer warmed his skin and his soul. There’d been a year when he’d followed summer around the world, working in countries where snow and ice were alien, because he’d known how snow could destroy a person and he would never put himself in that position again.

But it hadn’t been enough so he’d enrolled in med school to learn in earnest how to save people. London winters were cold but his heart had coped, had borne the pain that came with memories of a colder, icier, crueller place he’d never returned to. Not once. Never would. He couldn’t. It wasn’t in him to go there and bury the ghosts. They would never let him get away a second time. Except these past weeks, spending time with Reid, tentatively touching on what had happened, he’d begun looking at things in a different light. Would it be possible to put it all behind him one day?

Kristina’s soft voice snagged him. ‘I was called Kris in the army. When I wasn’t sir or captain.’ A tightness had crept into her tone.

‘You let them?’

‘Regardless of what the recruitment officers say, the military is still a masculine world. To fit in I was Kris. But I’ve objected to being called it since I was ten.’

‘Am I allowed to ask why?’

‘No big deal,’ she answered in a harsh tone, suggesting it was. ‘When my parents split up, my mother took me to LA with her where she met a man she was very keen on. When he proposed he told her in no uncertain terms that Kris was not part of the deal. The way he called me Kris was derogatory. I loathed it.’

Chase leaned closer, breathed deeply of her scent. He’d never call her Kris again. Not even as a tease. ‘Did your mother tell him where to go?’

‘No. I returned to England soon after.’

‘To live with your father?’

‘Dad was working twenty-four, seven trying to recoup the fortune he’d lost. I was sent to boarding school.’

‘Geez.’ She hadn’t known the loving family environment he’d grown up with, had taken for granted, and now struggled not to put in danger by being near them. Lightly dropping his arm over her shoulders, Chase tucked her close. ‘That’s lousy.’ A damned sight worse. His parents had stood by him through the days and years following the avalanche and still did. There’d been times they’d been so near he’d not been able to breathe, but he wouldn’t have swapped that for what Kristina had missed out on. Yes, he was incredibly lucky to have such a loving, caring family.

‘Yeah, it was.’

He daren’t delve deeper, afraid she might sprint away, regret telling him in the first place. He didn’t want her leaving his side, not until the tension in her stance softened and a smile returned to her eyes.

The silence returned, comfortable in an intimate way. Another first for him. The more he learned about this strong woman the more he wanted to know. Things like why she’d joined the army in the first place. Had she needed to belong to something, somewhere, to replace the lack of having a loving family around her? ‘Were you ever deployed overseas?’ He hadn’t been going to ask any more questions so his words surprised him.

‘I served in Brunei, where there are jungle warfare courses going on all the time.’

‘I can’t imagine being a soldier, charging around learning to kill people.’ He shuddered. ‘Not when my whole focus is on saving them.’ Hell, she had him talking, wanting to tell her what made him tick. This was his time out, yet Kristina had sauntered into his space and he started gabbing on like he’d been on a desert island for months.

‘It’s not quite like that. I was a medic first and foremost. But sometimes I found myself questioning why I was there.’

‘I’d be hopeless. Can’t take orders from anyone.’ Not since the day his skiing coach had dropped the ball when he’d been needed most. Coach Wheeler had phoned parents, tried to keep him from returning into the wrecked chalet, but he hadn’t rushed in to help pull Nick free.

She turned under his arm and smiled up at him. ‘Now, there’s a surprise.’

He laughed, a belly-deep reaction that spread throughout his psyche. ‘I know. Pig-headed is another term for the way I get things done.’ Studying the sea, he asked, ‘Do you miss the military life?’

‘Not at all.’ Her smile switched off. ‘It wasn’t what I wanted after all.’ A little shiver and, ‘See you in the morning.’ Then she was gone, striding across the deck in that sharp, exact way of hers, heading for the hub of what went on day after day. Her leg left pulled a fraction higher on the upward movement. He’d noticed weeks ago how some days were worse than others, and how she sometimes winced or rubbed her lower back when she thought no one was looking. She wasn’t one to complain or talk about her aches and pains.

She was back, a light smile on her face that heartened him. ‘By the way, you’d make a lousy commanding officer.’ Straightening, she mimicked him. ‘Kristina, your attention—now.’ This time she did leave him, flipping her hand over her shoulder on the way.

She left him chuckling yet bereft of company when he’d never before wanted anyone sharing this precious hour away from the cries and arguments and chatter that filled the ship twenty-four seven. Sometimes his head would be splitting apart with everyone’s pain, his own grief and guilt working its way into the centre of it all, reminding him why he was there, and stressing that he’d never be able to escape to a normal life back in England close to his family. He had to continue moving, keep finding more people to save. Working for MFA did that by bringing him and those people together. Day after day, week after week. There was no end to it. And not likely to be for the rest of his life. Which suited him perfectly.

Except Kristina didn’t recognise his barriers, or ignored them, relentlessly chipping away, making him feel a little happier with life. Hell, he’d put his arm around her to give her warmth and support. Something more than her beauty, her confidence, her quietness, her heat-provoking body got to him—come on, it was a combination of all those.

Yeah, but there was an indefinable something else he couldn’t put his finger on. When she’d told him about her name he’d known instantly she didn’t talk about that to anyone, yet she’d told him. Not to shut him up, or at least not to let him think it was on a whim, but because she’d wanted him to understand there were heartfelt reasons behind her need to be called Kristina. She’d even told him those. Information he didn’t want because it made him care. From now on he was done talking to her about anything deep. He had to be or he was doomed.

Chase tried to connect the dots between the doctor and her role as a soldier. Though the circumstances were poles apart, the requirements for patience and tolerance would be the same, yet he couldn’t quite imagine Kristina issuing orders. Around here other medics did her bidding without question, her manner friendly and relaxed while underscored with determination, but a military officer would have to be sharp and firm. Bet she filled out the uniform perfectly.

Hell, he was in need of some diversion. Last time he’d got like this a nurse had spent a night with him on their three-day leave from the ship. Eight months ago, at the end of last summer. That was the last time he’d had sex? So it wasn’t sleep he needed, was it?

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