Encounter with a Commanding Officer

So this was Colonel Man Candy?

The nickname simply didn’t do him justice. It suggested sugar-coated and frivolous. This man was anything but.

He was tall, powerful and all hard edges more lethal than a bayonet on the end of a rifle. His uniform—sharp and crisp with that edge to it that seemed to mark infantrymen out over all other soldiers—did little to conceal the physique beneath. If anything, it enhanced it. The perfectly folded up shirtsleeves which clung lovingly to impressive biceps revealed equally strong, tanned forearms. But it wasn’t merely his forearms, more something about his demeanour which suggested to Fliss that he was a soldier who was used to physical exertion in the field. Certainly not the kind of man to relish being stuck behind a desk. He exuded a commanding air. Rough. Dangerous.

He was definitely more suited to an adrenalin-fuelled life on the front line than being stuck here in the safe confines of a place like Razorwire.

Abruptly, Fliss realised that even as she was assessing the Colonel, he was appraising her too. Narrowed eyes, the colour of mountain shale and just as inhospitable, slid over her. And everywhere they travelled, they left a scorching sensation on her skin. She wanted to move, to say something. Instead she stood rooted to the spot, her throat tight and her heart pounding out a military tattoo in her chest.

Something unfurled in the pit of Fliss’s stomach. Something which she didn’t recognise at all but which made her feel the need to regroup. Something which scared her, yet was also perhaps a little thrilling. And then it was gone, so fast that she wondered if she hadn’t simply imagined it.

Slowly, she became aware of Simon speaking with a forced cheerfulness, as though he could sense the undertones but couldn’t compute them.

‘Colonel, this is Major Felicity Delaunay, the trauma doctor who leads one of our primary MERT crews,’ Simon introduced her, referring to the Medical Emergency Response Team which flew out from the camp in helicopters to retrieve casualties from outside the wire.

‘Major, let me introduce Colonel Asher Stirling, the new CO replacing the late Colonel Waterson.’

‘Colonel,’ Fliss choked out, finally finding her voice as she proffered her hand, relieved to see that it wasn’t shaking.

The new Colonel didn’t take it. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest in a very deliberate move.

‘Major Delaunay,’ he bit out. ‘So you’re the doc who thinks she’s so important she’s risking the safety of my men, not to mention the rest of her own crew.’

His hostile glower pinned her in place. She wanted to snatch her own gaze away but found she couldn’t. He was too mesmerising.

Still, a defiant flame flickered into life inside her.

‘Would you care to elaborate, sir?’

She made a point of emphasising the acknowledgement of his superior rank. She didn’t like what he was suggesting, but she had no intention of being accused of insubordination as well.

‘I’m saying your position is on the helicopter, receiving incoming casualties and staying where my men can protect you.’

His voice was deep, his tone peremptory. And Fliss didn’t just hear the words, she felt them too. Compression waves coursed through her whole being. He didn’t just have the rank of a colonel, he oozed it. Authoritative and all-consuming. She had never reacted so innately to anyone—to any man—before. She hadn’t even known it was possible to do so.

She was vaguely aware of Simon attempting to interject but it felt as though there were only the two of them in the room. The CO soon faded out, making some spurious excuse and dashing for the door.

‘Is this about the incident last week when I had to leave the heli to attend a casualty?’

‘As I understand it, not just last week, no,’ the new Colonel continued coldly. ‘My men are there to protect yo

u...’

‘They’re there to protect the helicopter, the asset,’ she cut in.

Waves of tightly controlled fury bounced off him.

‘They are tasked to protect you, but I understand you make that impossible for them on a regular basis. Yet if anything were to happen to you, my men would be responsible.’

‘Your men...’

She stopped and bit her lip, her sense of self-preservation finally kicking in. He clearly only had half the story and if he thought she was just going to stand there without setting the record straight then he could think again. But as much as this dressing-down galled her, she refused to speak badly of his men. They’d been through enough.

Straightening her spine, she jutted her chin out to give the impression she wasn’t intimidated. Instead, it only reminded her just how close to each other they were standing. White heat snaked through her. She had a feeling that when this man spoke, people listened. But Fliss forced herself to push it to the side, forced herself to wonder if he was equally capable of listening.

She was about to find out.

‘Your men are feeling understandably uptight right now, and I appreciate that you’re only looking out for your new unit, but there are two sides to this story, Colonel.’