Resisting Her Army Doc Rival

‘To get away for a while. Decide what to do with my career. And to do something for my country. I like that we can help other people less fortunate through the military.’

‘Tell me to shut up if you don’t want any more questions, but did your failed marriage have anything to do with leaving Christchurch?’

‘Shut up, Sam.’ It was said without anger. Without any emotion at all. She was hurting. He could see it in the white fingers gripping her bottle, in the flat line of her mouth, the dull eyes.

He backed off instantly. ‘Fair enough.’

Then she paid him back with, ‘You never married?’

‘Not even close.’ A shortage of women hadn’t been the problem. Finding one he could fall in love with had been. Then William had happened and he’d understood he wasn’t entitled to happiness.

Madison was eyeing him with caution. ‘So no little Sam Lowes running around?’

‘Nope. I wouldn’t dream of having children if I wasn’t in a happy, strong marriage.’

Her mouth twisted up in a wry smile. ‘I have to agree.’ Then she chuckled. ‘My sister has four kids. She married an Italian and they live just down the road from our parents.’ Maddy’s face lit up. ‘Those girls are gorgeous. Little minxes, every one of them.’

‘Four kids is a handful.’

‘Yeah, but what a problem to have.’ She smiled, big and deep, and touched something inside him. Then her expression became wistful, probably thinking of the kids she might’ve had if her marriage hadn’t gone off the rails.

‘Not for me.’ An image of Madison holding her own baby, smiling softly, rocking gently, her face full of love, wove through his mind, wouldn’t let go. It was a beautiful picture that he needed to burn. His hand jerked, his knuckles banging against his glass and upending it. Water pooled on the counter and dripped over the edge. Snatching up a cloth to mop up the mess, he was reeling, his head spinning. Damn but Madison tripped him up too easily just by being normal.

Madison was wiping her fatigues where water had soaked the fabric. ‘You don’t want four kids?’ Her dazzling smile faded as she looked directly at him. She knew something wasn’t right.

‘Hard to imagine when I’m here.’ Which reminded him—where was their food? As good an excuse as any to escape while he got his brain back under control. ‘I’ll see what’s cooking in the kitchen.’

So Madison adored children and from the look that had come over her when talking about them would be quite happy to have a brood of her own. She’d make a great mum. Probably be quite strict but soft as butter on the inside.

After ordering fries and chicken, he plonked an elbow on the counter and leaned back to study Madison. She was chatting to the barman, no longer wary of his questions and what she might reveal about herself. He’d swear she’d told him more than she’d intended to. But, then, his usual reticence had taken a hike, too. It showed Maddy was capable of tipping his world sideways. What it didn’t show was why. Why her? How had she been able to sneak under his radar even a tiny bit when that had been iron cast?

Look at her. There was part of his answer. Guys were gathering around Maddy, eager to tell her about themselves, to claim her attention, drawn in by that face that could launch a thousand ships, the body that promised heaven, and the smile that would not let them look away. He completely understood their reaction; she’d captivated him within minutes of turning up on his patch.

Crossing over to the group, he reached around one officer for his drink and was astonished to hear Madison say, ‘Make way for Sam. That’s his spot.’

Pleasure oozed through him like he’d been handed a present to unwrap. His fingers curled around the icy bottle of water she nodded to, and he nudged a guy off his stool. ‘Thanks, mate.’

Madison’s lips were pressing down hard on a burgeoning smile as she tapped her bottle against his. ‘To Kiwis in out-of-the way places.’

He tapped back. ‘To unusual places.’ Playing it safe? Damn right.

‘What do we do around here on our days off?’ Maddy asked no one in particular.

‘Go into town to check out the stalls at the markets.’

Her face lit up. ‘Markets? Bring them on. I can’t think of a better way to spend a morning.’

‘Happy to show you around any time,’ one of the guys told her.

I’ll drive you into town whenever you ask. Sam swallowed hard. Down, boy. Be the mature man you pride yourself on being.

‘Here you go, Captains.’ Two plates of steaming food were banged down on the counter between Sam and Maddy.

‘Thanks, Bud.’ His mouth watered as the wonderful smell of fried chicken reached his nostrils. ‘Get stuck into that.’ He pushed a plate closer to Madison and glared around at the crowd. ‘Give us some space, guys.’ I want to talk to Captain Hunter—alone.

Surprisingly the officers did back off, heading to the snooker table.

‘This is yum.’ Madison munched on a drumstick.

‘Unhealthy and delicious,’ he agreed as he reached for some fries. ‘For someone who wasn’t hungry, you’re making short work of this.’

‘I never turn down a good offer.’

His chicken went down his throat only half-chewed as his mind came up with more than one good offer. At least he managed to keep them to himself. Just. ‘What was all that about the dust yesterday?’

Her plate hit the counter with a thud, quickly followed by fierce colour staining her cheeks. Her breasts rose on a long breath. She was pulling on a shield. ‘I told you. I thought it was smoke,’ she ground out in a don’t-ask-me-any-more tone, bringing his focus back to where it should be.

‘What happened, Maddy?’ Why the fear of smoke? Or was it the fire that had caused the smoke that had given her grief? Had she lost her possessions or a place she frequented because of fire?

Madison slid off the stool she’d been sitting on. He

r eyelids were blinking rapidly, as if he was shining a torch in her eyes to see beyond her reticence. She was keeping tears at bay, or hiding them from him.

Neither made him happy. ‘Talk to me, Maddy. Please.’ Though it was none of his business, he wanted to know everything, had to wipe away that despair, that agony darkening, dulling her eyes to the colour of burned wood.

She’d turned for the exit but came back. Her hands were fists at her sides, her feet wide apart, her chin pushed forward. But she wasn’t fooling him. Regret had replaced the pain in her eyes. ‘I don’t know you well enough, Sam.’ She spoke softly, carefully, and her words wrapped around him, tugged him in.

Would she biff him around the head if he enveloped her in a hug? He shrugged. If that’s what it took to banish whatever was bugging her, tying her into knots so tight she might take a week to loosen up, it would be worth it. But—‘Try me.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Tell me why.’

This protectiveness had started yesterday almost immediately after that dust had got to her. Then on patrol in the morning he’d been constantly alert, watching out for her—and keeping his attention hidden. Madison was beating at his long-held barricades that kept people exactly where he wanted them. He should be the one rushing out of here, not Madison. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t. ‘You’re not trusting me?’

‘Bang on, Sam.’ Blink, blink.

‘Why not?’ Her response didn’t hurt. He understood from his own perspective. But he would like different from her.

Sadness mingled with despair as her eyes locked on him. ‘Would telling you it’s none of your business work?’

He shrugged deliberately. The next move was hers.

‘Okay, then how’s this? I don’t talk to anyone about what happened to me. Get it? I trust no one not to hurt me.’ Her hand fluttered over her stomach. It didn’t touch down, just hovered in a protective way. Or was that as a reminder of something she needed to fear? ‘I’m sorry.’ She turned on her heel and left him.