Galvanised, he pushed himself out of the seat and stalked across the floor just as the door swung open and the familiar form of his former army buddy strode in. But it was the figure slinking in behind Rafe—her head resolutely down—that arrested his gaze.
Raevenne Rawlstone.
He hadn’t thought about her in years.
Liar.
He ignored the silent accusation.
But he had shoved memories of her, of that one Christmas together, to the back of his mind. Yet now, having heard Rae’s muffled yet nevertheless unmistakeable voice through the door, he found he couldn’t stuff her back into whatever cold corner of his mind in which she’d been lurking all these years.
It was insane. Objectionable. Unacceptable. And yet, it seemed, here he was.
He wasn’t aware that he’d crossed the room towards her until she lifted her head—those unmistakeable laurel-green eyes with their perfect, moss-green edging that had haunted him far more than he had ever cared to admit—and finally met his stare full-on.
His breath lodged, as though he were winded, as though seeing her for the first time in fifteen years. Innocent and fragile. So far removed from those gossip columns, those entertainment channels, that awful Life in the Rawl reality show.
He’d tried to escape them but it hadn’t been easy. When you were out in a conflict zone it was amazing what light escapism soldiers found entertaining. And still, it made him grit his teeth so hard he was surprised his jaw didn’t break.
‘Ma’am,’ he ground out stiffly before his brain got into gear.
It was ridiculous given how they’d once known each other, and he wasn’t surprised she hesitated before sliding her smaller palm against his and managing a stiff handshake.
‘Major.’
Was that a jolt of...something...surging through him?
Impossible.
So why was he having to fight himself not to snatch his hand away?
Myles glanced back at her.
He had no words to articulate why he felt so upended. Or even what it was. Which was when she opened her mouth and bit out, ‘I don’t want you as my bodyguard.’
Not quite that fragile, then.
Something else tipped sideways within him and suddenly, bizarrely, he found himself fighting a faint smile that toyed on his lips.
He thrust the odd sensation aside, reaching instead for his more familiar cloak of dispassion and finding something slightly less reassuring. It was all he could do to school his features.
‘Something wrong?’
She cocked her head to the side as if actually contemplating it.
It occurred to him that he hadn’t had anyone evaluate him like this in a long, long time. Ever since he’d been a desperate recruit, prepared to leopard crawl from Fort William to Cape Wrath if it meant winning an army bursary to study medicine.
‘I think I might prefer someone who looks like they could handle a shoving, unruly crowd. Someone more...’
Belatedly, he realised she was deliberately trying to insult him.
‘More?’ He arched one eyebrow as though indulging a silly, petulant child, which, he reminded himself, was exactly how he saw her.
‘Yes, you know, more...’ She waved her hand airily. ‘Bigger, more intimidating.’
‘Is that so?’
‘That’s....so.’ She flicked out her tongue and the movement snagged his gaze. Inexplicably he couldn’t seem to draw his eyes away.