Surely the impulse was only combat aftermath, emotions running high. He didn't think of her that way.
But he had before.
Tanner's head dug back in his pillow as if he might somehow dodge memories he couldn't suppress. His first day at the Air Force Academy, he'd seen Kathleen walking across the parade ground, vibrant, toned and radiating a confidence that had found an answer within him. Every hormone in his eighteen-year-old body had roared to life.
Until he'd noticed she wore a beret with her uniform, the distinguishing symbol of an upperclassman.
Relationships between upperclassmen and freshmen-doolies were forbidden. Grounds for expulsion. And he wasn't throwing away his career for anyone.
Maybe later, he'd thought…
Later she'd become his training officer and his own personal ticket to hell. Training officers were universally resented by the doolies they hammered into Academy material.
Tanner had stuffed his hormones into his footlocker and concentrated on getting through his freshman year. Becoming a pilot meant everything to him, and he wouldn't risk it.
Something that hadn't changed in twelve years.
Footsteps echoed in the hall. Closer. With a light tread that launched a wave of foreboding in Tanner. Unless Cutter had lost about seventy pounds and developed a decided glide to his walk, those footsteps didn't belong to him.
Two quick raps sounded on the door.
Foreboding death-spiraled into certainty. "Yeah. Come in."
The door swung wide, revealing Kathleen O'Connell.
His libido crashed and burned. And damn, but it was one hell of a plunge.
She lounged against the door frame, wearing lime-green scrubs, instead of her regular forest-green flight suit. Cotton hugged gentle curves her bulky uniform usually disguised. Her leather flight jacket hung loose as she hooked a hand on one shapely hip. "Well, good morning, hotshot. How's the back?"
Did she have to sound so chipper, look so hot? Small but fit, her tight body tugged his gaze into a slow glide he didn't have the reserves to resist. She came by those taut muscles honestly. More than once over the past year, the two of them had pitted themselves against each other doing sit-ups during physical training.
A stethoscope dangled around her neck, nestling between br**sts that were as understated and damned irresistible as the rest of her. Apparently, the attraction hadn't left after all, only slipping out of formation while waiting to rejoin without warning.
Time to pull out the old footlocker and replace the padlock on his hormones.
A strange thought taunted. Could their arguments have been a way of re-channeling his lust? Damn it all. "Figures you would be a morning person."
Kathleen's wicked smile creased her blue cat eyes. "And with next to no sleep. Imagine that? Come on. Hop up and let's go to breakfast. What? Having a little trouble moving are we? Hmmm." She pressed a slim finger against her pursed lips. "Guess that's to be expected when someone ignores his doctor's advice. Word around the water cooler has it that you even skipped out on your last chiropractor appointment."
Tanner tapped precious energy reserves to tuck his good arm behind his head casually. "What are you gonna do, bludgeon me with your pocket edition UCMJ manual?"
"My, we're cranky today. Just think, you could have been languishing in a Demerol daze as we speak. But, nope. You had to play the tough guy.">Her breath hitched, a glacial gasp of air freezing a path to her lungs. At the oddest times his incredible size caught her unaware. She knew his vitals. Six feet five inches. Honed 238 pounds. Good cholesterol and blood pressure as of his last physical recorded in his chart stowed inside the ambulance.
Chart stats didn't come close to capturing the magnetism of the man.
He hadn't lost one bit of his brawny charm that had so enchanted fans during his four years on the Air Force Academy football team. Then when he'd chosen service to country over a seven-figure NFL income with the Broncos— Even she had to admire him for that.
Not that it would garner him special treatment from her.
Kathleen inhaled a deeper breath of chilly air to banish a warm hum in her stomach that she wanted to attribute to sleep deprivation and too much coffee.
Tanner shuffled over to her, pain etched in the corners of his eyes, skin pulling tight around his bumpy nose. "Hey, Doc, what are you doing out so late?"
Sympathy pinched her right on her Hippocratic Oath. Poor guy had to be in agony. Of course, experience told her he wouldn't admit it.
She pushed away from the ambulance and pulled herself upright, still no more than eye level with his chest. Strands of hair blew across her face, making Kathleen wish she'd had the time for her more professional braid. She tipped her face up and met Tanner's sapphire eyes dead-on. "I'm taking care of flyers who won't take care of themselves."
He turned to look back at the plane, the twist stopping midway when he grimaced. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, instead. "Is somebody hurt in there and I missed it?"