Her Lieutenant Protector
“Don’t force yourself to engage in sex until you’re ready,” Dr. Givens had said, her brown eyes warm and kind behind the rims of her tortoiseshell glasses. “Everyone recovers at their own pace, and you can’t judge your progress against artificial benchmarks.”
The logical part of Mallory understood and agreed with Dr. Givens, but her emotional side wondered if she would ever feel safe enough to sleep with a man again.
“Someday,” she muttered, shaking her head as she pulled a T-shirt and yoga pants from the built-in dresser. “I just haven’t met the right man yet.”
It was a juvenile fantasy, the idea that there was some kind of Prince Charming out there for her. Nevertheless, it gave her comfort to think that she wasn’t permanently broken, that she would be able to enjoy intimacy with someone out there.
Avery and Olivia seemed to have found their happily-ever-afters. Maybe it was time Mallory started looking for hers.
* * *
Everest LeBeau slowed his pace for a moment and reached for the water bottle, keeping one hand on the elliptical machine for balance while he twisted off the cap. Once upon a time he wouldn’t have had to throttle back his workout, but thanks to his war injuries those days were behind him.
He replaced the bottle and kicked things up again, gritting his teeth at the ache in his lower right leg. The prosthesis he wore just below his right knee was shifting a little, rubbing the skin of his stump with every step. It was a new prosthesis, and he knew from experience it would take a little time for calluses to build up. Until they did, he was just going to have to deal with the discomfort.
He was used to handling pain. He’d pushed himself to the limit at the army basic officer course, wanting to test his physical capabilities. His classmates had thought he was crazy—everyone knew boot camp was easier for officers, and they thought he should take advantage of the more relaxed standards. They’d laughed at him, right up until the two-week field training exercise when all his extra work had paid off. He’d passed with flying colors and had set a few new records for his efforts. Not bad for a guy from the backwaters of Louisiana. The army had shipped him off to Iraq with a pat on the back and a smile.
The heat of the desert had been uncomfortable, but nothing he couldn’t handle. The dry, oven-like atmosphere had been a novel change from the hot and sticky weather he was used to, but as long as he stayed hydrated, things were bearable, if a mite stifling. The desert wasn’t his favorite place, but it didn’t take him long to settle into a routine with his team. He had this war thing figured out, or so he’d thought.
Until it all came crashing down on a lazy summer day seven years ago.
The IED had done its work with brutal efficiency. The explosion had thrown him clear of the Humvee, and the shock of it had kept him from feeling much of anything at first. It wasn’t until the medics arrived and began to move him that the pain had registered: a white-hot agony radiating from the stump below his right knee... Everest closed his eyes for a second and could almost smell the stale, chalky odor of the desert. He brushed sweat off his forehead, half expecting to feel the fine grit of sand under his fingertips. The stuff had been everywhere, a kind of fine, powdered sugar–like particulate that hung in the air and clung to skin and hair and clothes with ferocious tenacity. Just stepping outside was enough to make a man want a shower, but bathing was a luxury. Even then, Everest hadn’t truly felt clean until he’d been home for a while. Weeks after his return he’d still been sloughing off grains of sand, little reminders of his tour. Of course, it hadn’t helped he’d spent so much time in a hospital bed. Sponge baths were no match for all the layers of desert funk he’d accrued during his tour.
That first real shower, though? Heaven. He could still feel the warm rivulets of water cascading over his shoulders, down his chest and back. It had been so damn amazing to feel clean again, it was almost enough to make him forget about his leg. Or rather, the missing parts of his leg. The strangest part of all was that he had felt the water on the soles of his feet—both of them. In fact, if he’d kept his eyes closed, he’d been able to feel the shower spray on both legs, not just the one he still had. He mentioned it to the doctor, and the man had nodded knowingly, a small, sad smile on his face.
“It’s a phantom sensation,” he’d explained. “We don’t know why it happens, but it’s not uncommon for amputees to still feel their missing limb.”
The pain had come later, a wrenching, bone-crushing sensation that nearly took his breath away. Even now, he still wasn’t used to the intensity of the sensation, or the incongruity of it. How could the ghost of a limb cause so much agony? More important, why did his brain insist on betraying him like that?
Fortunately, the attacks of phantom pain had grown less frequent over the years. Physical therapy had helped, as had the prosthetic legs he’d used. His limb felt somewhat whole again when he wore the prosthesis, and apparently that was enough to convince his brain that things were working as they should. It had been a long, hard road to reclaim his mobility, but he wasn’t going to dwell on the past. He’d left the desert behind, and he had no desire to go back. He much preferred the beach sand he encountered now while working on a cruise ship.
The glass door of the gym swung wide, and a curvy redhead walked in, pulling up short when she saw him. She clearly hadn’t expected to find anyone here, and he noticed the brief flicker of alarm that passed over her face, there and gone in an instant. Interesting, he mused. What was she afraid of?
Everest nodded at her and tried for a friendly smile. She gave him a guarded wave and headed for the treadmill at the far end of the row. He watched from the corner of his eye as she hopped on and began to warm up, her stride graceful as she moved.
Who was she? As head of security, he made it a point to know all the staff on the ship, even if only on a superficial level. Since this was the Abigail Adams’s maiden voyage, most of the crew was new to him, which meant he had a lot of catching up to do. He would meet everyone, though. He always did.
He slowed his pace as the woman ramped up hers, her footsteps beating out a steady cadence on the tread of the machine. After a few moments of cooldown, he stepped off the elliptical and fought the urge to bend down and rub his leg. He didn’t like people to know about his injury or prosthesis.
Especially not beautiful women.
Even though she was at the opposite end of the row of equipment, Everest could feel her eyes on him as he wiped his face and gathered his water bottle and keys. She reminded him of a cat his family had owned when he’d been a kid. Mittens had spent hours lying in the windowsill, his eyes trained on the birds and squirrels that frequented the backyard feeder. He’d never once lunged or swiped at any of the critters, but he’d known where every visitor was located. Everest got the sense now that this woman was taking his measure in much the same way. He stood a little straighter, his ego demanding he put his best foot forward.
Or his real foot, as it were.
She didn’t try to hide the fact she was watching him. In his experience most women played it coy, glancing away when he met their eyes. Not this one. She kept staring at him, her expression open but with a hint of wariness, like she was trying to assess what he might do. Her eyes widened when he started walking toward her, but she didn’t miss a step.
He stopped in front of her treadmill and placed his right shoe on the engine cover, easing his weight onto his left leg. He glanced down to see if his prosthesis was exposed, but the fabric of his pants kept it hidden. Good.
“Hello.” He raised his voice, hoping it was audible above the noise of her workout.
“Hi.” She didn’t sound thrilled at his interruption, which was an understandable reaction. He’d just have to make it quick, and perhaps he’d get a chance to have a longer conversation with her another time.
“My name is Everest LeBeau. I’m the head of security on the ship, and I wanted to introduce myself, as I don’t remember meeting you.”
She relaxed as he spoke, the fine lines of strain around her eyes and mouth softening as she realized he wasn’t there to bother her. “I’m Mallory Watkins,” she offered. “Ship’s doctor.”
“Nice to meet you,” he replied. He studied her face for a moment, committing her features to memory. It wasn’t a hardship—she was a beautiful woman. Pale skin, auburn hair, dark brown eyes. Not to mention killer cheekbones, accented by the ponytail she wore now. It bounced playfully with every step she took, at odds with her serious expression. She had a kind of girl-next-door quality about her that he found appealing. In another time, she was just the kind of woman he would have wanted to date.
Now? Not a chance. Not only was he still finding his way back to himself again after the injury, but he wasn’t about to mix business with pleasure.
“I won’t bother you any longer,” he said, stepping back. “Enjoy your workout.”
“Thanks,” she replied.
He started to walk away but stopped and turned back after a few steps. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to drop by the sick bay later today. Will you be there?”
“Yes,” she said, a little breathless from her run. He could see the questions in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything else.
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
What are you doing? he chided himself as he headed for the door. He didn’t need to see her again—now that he’d met her, he’d recognize her. It wasn’t like he had any business with her.
But there was something about the way she watched him that piqued his curiosity. Even now, he felt the weight of her gaze as she tracked his movement toward the exit. It wasn’t lust that kept her eyes glued to him; there was no heat in her gaze. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was afraid. But why? Was she trying to hide something?
Mallory Watkins was a woman who had secrets, that much was clear. And despite his better judgment, Everest wanted to know more.
Chapter 2
Mallory sat at the bar, her eyes glued to the entrance in the hopes of catching sight of Avery and Olivia. They were supposed to meet here at noon, but she was so excited to see them she’d arrived a little early.
“Can I get you anything?”
She smiled absently at the offer from the bartender. Technically, she was on the clock, which meant she couldn’t drink anything stronger than tea. “Coke, please.”
He nodded, and she turned her focus to watching him select a glass and prepare her drink. Ever since the attack in college, she’d been vigilant about keeping her drinks in sight at all times, lest someone try to slip her something again. The logical part of her knew the odds of her being drugged twice were infinitesimally low, but it was a chance she didn’t want to take. Fool me once, shame on you, she thought. Fool me twice...
The bartender slid her drink across the polished wood surface with a smile. She dug in her pocket for some cash, but he held up his hand. “No charge,” he said, nodding at her ID badge.
“Thanks,” Mallory replied. She slipped a bill into his tip jar and turned back to the door, taking a sip of her soda.
The bubbles slid down her throat in a tickling cascade, the sensation pleasant and soothing. Coke was her vice; she loved everything about the sweet, fizzy drink. She knew it was bad for her, but since she had worked out this morning she figured a little indulgence wouldn’t hurt. Besides, after her encounter with the security officer, she deserved a treat.
What was his name? She frowned a bit as she tried to recall it. Something unusual... Everett? No, Everest. Like the mountain. Probably a story there, she mused. Even though she’d blanked on his name, she had no trouble recalling his face. Dark blond hair and eyebrows, a square jaw and the most piercing blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was definitely a handsome man, and the rest of him wasn’t too bad to look at either. Even though his workout clothes had been a little on the large side, she’d seen the way the fabric of his T-shirt moved as his muscles shifted underneath. His long legs had eaten up the distance between them in easy strides, his gait a little stilted but still graceful.
Her first response to his approach had been alarm. It was an instinctive reaction now, thanks to her past. She’d tried to overcome the flare of panic that sparked whenever a man drew close, but her body wouldn’t listen to her mind. And maybe that was for the best. After all, it had been her mind that had ignored the little warning signs all those years ago...
She’d gotten better at controlling her reaction, though. In the weeks following the attack, she couldn’t stand to be in the same room with a man she didn’t know. Over time, and with the help of her therapist, she’d been able to work through the initial burst of fear that came with meeting someone new. Statistically speaking, the vast majority of people were decent and had no interest in harming her. But she still kept an eye on them all the same.
Everest was just the kind of man she normally stayed away from. Tall and strong, his body was a constant reminder of her comparative physical vulnerability. But there was something about him that had put her at ease and quelled her nerves. Maybe it was his deep voice and the calm manner of his words. Or the quiet confidence in his gaze, as if he was sure he could handle anything. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she’d been drawn to him, had felt her wariness ease as he’d stood there talking to her. She hadn’t felt so relaxed around a man in ages, and the fact that a relative stranger had had such an effect on her left her a little shaken.
Was it just a one-time thing? Or would she have the same reaction when she saw him again? She’d find out soon enough. He had mentioned stopping by sick bay today, and while he hadn’t made good on the remark yet, she was sure he would at some point. Everest didn’t seem like the type of man to forget an appointment, even one as loosely made as his earlier suggestion. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine, and not for the first time, she wondered why he wanted to visit.
“There she is!”
The excited exclamation cut through Mallory’s thoughts, and she focused on the door to the bar. Olivia and Avery stood at the entrance flanked by two men. As soon as she made eye contact, her friends dashed forward, leaving the men behind. The guys exchanged bemused looks and stepped inside, trailing in the wake of their girlfriends.
Mallory set her empty glass on the bar and stepped forward to meet her friends, her arms raised high so she could hug them both.
“It’s so good to see you!” said Olivia.
“I’ve missed you so much!” said Avery.
Mallory closed her eyes and let their voices wash over her, happiness welling in her chest. Avery and Olivia were her best friends, her confidantes. The sisters of her heart. Thanks to their demanding careers—Olivia was a plastic surgeon in DC, and Avery worked as a disease investigator for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta—they didn’t get to see each other in person nearly as often as Mallory would like. Not for the first time, Mallory wondered if she should move from Miami to Baltimore, just to make it easier to see her friends. She missed them so much at times it was a physical ache in her chest. But they were here now, and she was determined to enjoy every minute of this trip.
Even though she did have to work.
“I’m so glad you could both come,” Mallory said, leaning back so she could look at her friends. They both looked good. Olivia’s dark eyes practically glowed, and there was a spark in Avery’s blue gaze Mallory hadn’t seen before. She glanced beyond her friends to the men standing a few feet away. They must be the reason for her friends’ newfound joy.
“Hello,” she said, nodding to them both.
“Hi,” said the man on the left. He stepped closer to Olivia and put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m Logan.”
“Nice to meet you,” Mallory replied with a nod. Both Olivia and Avery held her hands, so she couldn’t offer to shake his. They were protecting her, giving her a socially acceptable excuse for not touching the men. They knew how much she dreaded physical contact, and she felt a flash of gratitude for their efforts.
Logan looked nice enough. He was tall, with dark brown hair and angled eyebrows over intelligent green eyes. He smiled, revealing twin dimples that made him look a little boyish, in a charming sort of way.
“So you’re the one who saved Olivia in Colombia,” Mallory said, referring to Olivia’s misadventures on her last medical charity trip.
Logan snorted. “I think it was the other way around,” he said, giving Olivia’s shoulder a squeeze. She lifted her free hand to cover his and looked up at him, love shining in her eyes.
“I’m just glad you got home safely,” Mallory said. “Both of you.”
She turned to the other man who was standing next to Avery. “And you must be Grant.”
He offered her a quick smile. “Guilty as charged.”
Mallory nodded, taking in his slightly curly hair and hazel eyes. There was a humorous slant to his mouth, and she could tell by the fine lines at the corners of his eyes that Grant was a man who laughed a lot.
“Have you thawed out from your stint in Antarctica yet?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Oh, yeah. Atlanta gets downright steamy in the summer.”
“Told you,” Avery said softly.
Grant put his arm around Avery’s shoulders and drew her close. “It’s a small price to pay to be with you,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
Mallory couldn’t help but smile at her friends and their partners. Olivia and Avery had both chosen well, it seemed. They’d both been through a lot, and it was good to see them so happy.
“Let’s grab a table,” she suggested. People were starting to trickle in, wanting before-meal drinks. It wouldn’t take long before the bar was packed.
“Do you have time?” Olivia asked. “I know you’re on the clock.”
Mallory glanced at her watch. “I said I’d be back by five, so we’re good. Besides, they can page me if they need me.” She led them to a round table in the corner, away from the growing bustle of the room.
The women sat down while the men remained standing. “Ladies, what can we get you to drink?” asked Grant.
Olivia and Avery both requested a fruity cocktail. Grant nodded, then looked expectantly at Mallory.
She hesitated only a second. “Water for me, please.”
Olivia and Avery exchanged a shocked look, but if Grant noticed it, he didn’t react. “Sure thing,” he said.
Avery waited until Grant and Logan were out of earshot. “Okay, now I know you must like them,” she said, leaning forward with a smile. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you order a drink from someone who wasn’t me or Olivia.”
Olivia nodded in agreement, her expression hopeful. “She’s right. Does that mean they get your seal of approval?”
Mallory smiled and shook her head. “You guys don’t need me to tell you they’re great.”
“Yeah.” Avery leaned back, a dreamy smile drifting across her face. “We’re really lucky.”
“Tell me about the new house,” Mallory prompted. Avery and Grant had recently bought a house and moved in together. She’d seen a few pictures, but it would be good to hear about the details firsthand.
“Oh! It’s fabulous!” Avery dug in her purse and pulled out her phone, talking excitedly as she pulled up photos.
The men came back just as she handed her phone to Mallory. Olivia leaned over to view the images, as well.
“Is she showing you pictures of the house?” Grant asked. “Did she tell you about the table she wouldn’t let me bring inside?”
Avery rolled her eyes, but it was clear from the look on her face she wasn’t upset. “I told you, baby. That thing is hideous.” She leaned forward and addressed Olivia and Mallory. “A bottle-cap tabletop, can you believe it? He thought it would make a good coffee table.”
Grant shrugged and looked at Logan. “The guys and I made it in college. It’s still got a lot of life left.”
Logan nodded and took a swig from his bottle. “Sounds legit to me.”
Olivia glanced at him in horror, and Mallory couldn’t help but laugh. “Where is this table now?”
“The garage,” Grant and Avery said in unison.
“Seems like a fair compromise,” she said.
“For now,” Grant replied. He leaned forward, a conspiratorial glint in his hazel eyes. “I’m just biding my time until we move to a bigger house and I can have a man cave. Then I’m bringing it inside.”
“As long as I don’t have to look at it,” Avery remarked.
Mallory held up her glass of water, capturing the attention of the table. “A toast,” she said. “To new beginnings.”
“And to friendships,” Olivia added. “Old and new.”
“Hear, hear.”
Their glasses touched with a delicate clink, and everyone took a sip. Then the conversation started up again, an easy back and forth between them all. Mallory relaxed into the flow, enjoying the comforting push-pull of talking with her friends. She felt revitalized by their company, and the knowledge that she could let her guard down and speak freely about anything; Olivia and Avery were her support system, and she knew they wouldn’t judge her. They all managed to stay in touch via the phone or the computer, but seeing them in person was a huge boost to her mood.
She had just started to tell them about her last cruise when the pager on her belt began to vibrate. “Sorry, guys,” she said, pulling it free to examine the display. Crap. It was an emergency. Her heart sank as she stood to take her leave. “I have to go. I’ll catch up with you later.”
The group called out a chorus of goodbyes, but she was already headed for the door. Adrenaline thrummed through her system as she raced back to sick bay. What could possibly be going on? The ship had launched a few hours ago, and so far the sailing had been smooth. Still, it did usually take time for the passengers to adjust to walking around on a moving vessel. Had someone fallen and injured themselves?
She rounded the corner just in time to hear an eruption of voices from sick bay. Mallory broke into a run, covering the remaining distance in a few seconds. The voices grew louder as she approached, and she skidded to a stop in front of the door. Whoever was inside sounded angry and scared, a bad combination. She took a deep breath to regain her composure, then pushed open the door and walked into the chaos.
* * *
Everest clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on his temper. The two young men in the sick bay were loud and obnoxious, and he could tell by their body language they were on the verge of getting physical. It was his job to make sure that didn’t happen, but the men weren’t interested in listening to reason right now.
“You don’t understand! The walls are melting—we have to get off the ship!”
The other man eyed the porthole window at the far end of the room. “Why is the sun in here?” He shuddered and took a step back, running into a gurney. “We’re going to burn up!”
They began to talk over each other, their exclamations growing more and more agitated. One of them began to pace, his steps jerky and uncoordinated. He came dangerously close to crashing into one of the nurses, and Everest held up a hand, trying to stop him. He jerked away with an incoherent yell.
Before Everest could respond, a new voice cut through the fray. “What is happening here?”
Everyone turned to view the new arrival, and Everest felt a surge of relief when he saw Dr. Watkins standing in the doorway. These men were obviously psychologically disturbed, and if anyone could help them, it was her.
The men stared at her in silence, jaws gaping. A nurse stepped forward and spoke in low tones. “They were brought in a few minutes ago, ranting and raving. We haven’t been able to examine them, so I don’t know their vitals yet. They might be having a psychotic break of some kind.”