Becca made a note of Redd’s vitals after she’d triple checked the restraints on his wrists and ankles. “Pulse soaring. One hundred and twenty.”

What the hell is wrong with him?

She listened to his chest with her stethoscope once more. “Respiration elevated.” His ribcage rose and fell in a rapid jerk. If it wasn’t for his normal body temperature, she would’ve assumed he had a fever. When she checked his eyes, his pupils weren’t even visible. Muscle tone was lax. She doodled on the corner of her pad, mind racing.

She had no definitive diagnosis, and it bothered the crap out of her.

“Okay, I’m going to take a break. I’m talking to myself too much now.” She stepped away from his bed and closed the curtains. Her blue surgical gloves came off with a loud snap. She tossed them in the bin.

She was alone, and she was beat. Her eyelids were grainy from lack of sleep and the back of her neck was a sheet of contracted muscle.

How long had it been since she’d had a proper chunk of rest? Twenty-four hours? Her memory was hazy with the rapid cascade of events and sheer exhaustion. As she scribbled notes, deep down, she knew she was distracting herself from what she’d shared with Ethan when he’d frozen in the air vent. She glanced at the clock on the wall. He was supposed to have come to the infirmary so she could stitch him up and give him a tetanus jab. He still hadn’t appeared, and it was half an hour later. She cricked her head from side to side and pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers.

Focus, Becca. She bent over her notepad, willing her mind to release Ethan’s image.

Whatever Redd was suffering from, it was nothing she’d encountered in her professional career and she wanted to make sure she documented every aspect, somewhere secure.

Like paper.

She glanced at Aimee’s silent console. Distrust for the AI ticked at the back of her mind.

The hatch door rumbled, and Becca straightened but didn’t turn around. She pocketed her book, knowing without looking it was Ethan. Butterflies took flight in her stomach.

He coughed. “I was hoping you could take a look at my leg.”

Becca turned slowly, placing her pen back on the desk.

He was standing, looking awkward, at the entrance, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d cleaned up. All the blood was gone, and his hair was still dark with water. He smiled and the ache in her shoulders eased a fraction. Maybe she could find a way through this with him, like she’d discussed with Em.

“I thought you got lost on the way here.” She pointed to a bed on the opposite side of the room to Redd. “Over here. Let’s take a proper look at you.”

He limped over. “I went with Nik to see what was happening with the Lady.”

Becca pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and wheeled over her triage trolley. The familiarity of medical procedures soothed the anxious knot in her belly. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s still working on repairs. Hopefully not more than six hours. We also got through to Triton.”

Becca looked up from her trolley. “And?”

Ethan inclined his head toward the drawn curtain. “Is he still out?”

She stiffened. “Yes. Ethan what did Triton say?”

“Still no go on the evacuation. There’s a storm coming. We’ll take him out on the Lady. I haven’t spoken to Chief yet, but one of us will remain here so he can go. Whoever stays can leave on the rotation changeover.”

His expression shifted, as if he was about to say something more. He smiled. “You’ll be glad to be going home soon.”

“Of course.” She avoided eye contact, patted the bed. “Up.”

Ethan winced as he levered himself up onto the white sheets. He turned and faced her, his midnight eyes dark with pain

He reached out. “You have something on your cheek.”

His fingers brushed her skin, firing a hot bolt low in her belly. She wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch, even though her common sense told her to back off.

“It’s just ink.” He withdrew his hand and yanked a small pillow under his head. He leaned back, his eyes tracking her every move. His boots hung off the edge of the bed, twisting the paper covering. They looked thick and heavy, at odds with the clinical whiteness of her world.

She reached forward, doing her best to ignore his scrutiny, and peeled back the fabric of his cargo pants to ascertain the damage. The metal had dug a ragged gouge in his thigh. “I was right. A few stitches.”

“Figured.”

She glanced up at him.

He held her gaze, his expression sincere. “You’re a good doctor.”

She released the fabric and he hissed in pain. “Sorry.” She squeezed his hand. “I can help with that.” She turned and loaded a syringe with local anesthetic before carefully injecting a circumference of points around the wound. As she worked, his breathing eased a little and by the time she’d finished, the tendons on his neck were less evident.

He managed a smile. “Feels better already.”

Becca discarded the empty syringe in a metal tray. “You should be good for at least forty-eight hours.” She stepped back as he closed his eyes.

Her shoulders relaxed a little. She was holding herself as tight as a board when he looked at her. She rolled her arms back and cricked her neck.

Right. Stitches. Do your job.

She collected what she needed, then cut away the fabric from the wound. “The bleeding’s mostly stopped. I don’t think it’s gone too deep.”

“Mmm.” He rested his forearm across his eyes.

She was grateful. Free of his observation, she could think and do her job properly. She threaded her needle and bent over his leg.

Becca made quick work of the stitches. She lost herself in the task, pulling together the torn edges of his flesh in a secure suture. Ethan’s breathing was slow and steady, calming her heart rate. This close, goosebumps exploded across her skin when he shifted and his breath dusted her forearm.

She stepped back, dropping her needle and scissors into a metal dish. “That’s you all done.”

He lifted his arm and peered at her. “That’s the most relaxing surgery I’ve ever had.”

She smiled. “Not sure I would call it surgery, but thank you.”

He sat up carefully, examining his stitches. “Nice job.”

She was proud of her sewing skills. “Well, I stitched enough grapes at med school.”

He grinned and ran his hand through his hair.

She inched backward. God, he smelled so good. Clean soap and male sweat. A familiar ache grew in her heart, one she’d long forgotten. Her discussion with Em ricocheted in her mind, but the words she needed to say remained elusive.

He shuffled onto the edge of the bed into a sitting position. “Tetanus now?”

“Yes…um…I need you to pull your pants down. For the jab.”

Excruciating seconds ticked as she waited for him to comply.

His voice was thick, his words measured. “I think I’m up to date.”

Becca pressed her lips together before she spoke. The room suddenly was too small. “Well, I’m a safety girl.” She tipped her head, willing him to hurry up before all her defenses evaporated into thin air.

He unbuckled the leather belt around his waist. It hissed against the fabric as he tugged it open. His t-shirt rucked up across his abdomen revealing the smooth definition of his muscles and the dark trail of hair that swirled to the waistband of his shorts.

She swallowed, struggling to contain the tempting heat flaring through her body. Damn, she might as well admit it: she could stand here forever just watching him. Time had not made Ethan any less attractive to her. Quite the opposite.

He popped the top button on his cargos then stopped.

“Becca?”

She started. Jeez, had he seen her goggling? “Just going to get the tetanus booster,” she said in a too-bright voice. She crossed the room, mentally berating herself as she fumbled in the fridge, her fingers clumsy now that he was watching her again. Vaccine vials tipped in a skitter of glass. “Nearly done.” She closed her fist around one and took a slow breath, grateful for the cool of the fridge on her hot face. She straightened and turned, her fist reflexively tightening around the small bottle.

She approached him and filled a fresh syringe. Her breath hitched in her throat. Damn him, he was undoing her, just standing there.

“I need you to pull your shorts down.”

He grinned, his eyes wicked. “You’ve seen it all before.”

Becca stared blindly at the wall behind his head. “Yes, but we were married then.” Her voice squeaked and her cheeks flushed, uncontrollable and hot.

Fuck.

He shifted and pulled his shorts off his backside. He angled himself away from her, his eyes dark and unreadable. Did he feel this as much as she did?

His voice was a low grumble. “Ready when you are.”

She glanced up at him. His chest was rising and falling as fast as hers, and something in her eased a little to see that he was equally affected. She placed her hand on his buttocks and readied the needle. She didn’t dare look at his face.

“This might sting.” With a quick jab, she depressed the syringe then wiped his skin with a sterile swab. The shot given, she pressed a small band-aid over the injection site with trembling fingers. Once upon a time, she would’ve kissed the band-aid. Damn. It was now or never.

“Becca?” He straightened and buckled his belt. “Earlier, in the air vent. I don’t know if I could’ve made it out without you.” He turned and towered over her, the breadth of his body caging her in. “Did you mean what you said about the accident?”

“Yes.” She was more abrupt than she’d intended.

He caught her wrist and stroked the smooth skin on the underside with the pad of his thumb. Something shifted in his gaze and a muscle in his jaw flexed.

She placed her hand on his chest, and he stilled. His body heat soaked into her palm, unlocking all the pain of the intervening years. “Ethan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. Without an explanation.” Her head sank with the weight of the words she needed to say. Dig deep, Becca. “I never told you at the time. I left because part of me was relieved, after the miscarriage. I was ashamed.”

There, she’d said it. Her words hung fragile in the air between them. “I thought you’d hate me. Suddenly, I had options again, and I chose the only thing I could get my head around. A new life and a fresh start. I ran away because I was too much of a coward to be honest with you. Then when you never followed and you sent the divorce papers, I knew it’d been the right choice for both of us even though it was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.”

His intelligent eyes searched her face, missing nothing. She’d run, and she’d been relieved. She’d finally admitted that. Did her shoulders feel a little lighter?

“You were ashamed?”

“Yes.” Her cheeks flamed.

He shook his head. “We both went through hell, Becca.” He cupped her cheek. “I’d never hate you. Might need some time to understand but…not hate.” He released a slow breath. “Besides, I was the one who lost control of the car.”

“Ethan, I never blamed you.”

He shook his head, tracing the line of her jaw with his fingertips. “Didn’t need you too. I made my own punishment. Hit rock bottom.” He huffed a sigh. “Rolled around there for a while in a vat of self-pity, but eventually I got myself sorted out.”

He looked right at her. “I came after you, Becca but by then you were already at med school. You were doing so well. Living again. I couldn’t risk changing that, so I filed the divorce papers, signed up to the Navy and moved on.” He looked down at his hands, turned them over and examined them. “It’s a husband’s duty to protect his wife and child, and I failed. I was driving when we crashed, so you were perfectly right to leave and not look back as far as I was concerned.”

His words sank into her

He came after me.

She’d always attributed his absence to not wanting to see her again. Not wanting that reminder of what they’d lost. But he hadn’t given up on her. He’d gifted Becca her freedom. Her future. How much must he have loved her to let her go?

His gaze was molten, weakening her knees as he slipped one hand around the back of her neck, cupping her skull with strong fingers, scorching every nerve ending in her skin.

“You came to Bristol? To the college?” Her voice was rising in pitch despite her best efforts to keep it level.

His answer was the barest whisper. “Yes.”

All these years she’d been wrong about him. She shuffled backward a step, needing some distance as she struggled to get her head around what he was saying, but he closed the space between them, his muscled body boxing her in, his demanding fingers diving into her hair and tugging her close. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and dipped his head, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve missed you every day. But look. You’re a doctor. You save lives. You help people. That’s amazing.”

He took a step, walking her backward till she collided with the wall, then he leaned forward and gently kissed her earlobe, his teeth pressing into her flesh, unraveling the last of her self-control. “No one has ever made me feel the way you do, Becca. Even after all this time.”

Same.

Her knees rocked, and a needy moan escaped her as he pinned her to the wall. His teeth and tongue worked along the edge of her jaw, as his hands secured her palms above her head. His mouth found hers, and she leaned into the kiss, slow and teasing, and she lost herself in the once-familiar and heady taste of him. Memories of their past flooded through her and she kissed him back, breaking his restraint to capture the back of his neck and pull him closer. His arms tightened around her as she hooked one possessive arm around his waist so the hot hardness of his cock pressed against her thighs.

Oh.

Reality came crashing down around her. What the hell was she doing? Doubt surged through her in a wave, settling as a weight in the pit of her stomach. Did she really want him or was this just nostalgia triggered by forced proximity and danger? Would she even know the difference? She couldn’t do that to him again. She couldn’t be with him then leave him. It would destroy them both.

She had to be sure.

Becca broke the kiss, her thoughts tangled and painful. She’d left him high and dry all those years ago, run away to put herself back together without thinking about him. She’d been selfish. The least she could do, was not lead him on unless she was one hundred percent sure.

“Ethan…”

She bit down on her lip, searching for focus, and sidestepped him. Too close and all her resistance would dissolve, and really, was that what he needed? Ethan deserved someone more together than her. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. Her head was a mess. “Ethan, this? I’m not sure what this is. We went through such a difficult time. And now I’m not sure if this is just a reaction to everything that’s been going on.”

When she dared look up, his eyes were ocean cold.

“Is that what you really think? Is that what you think of me?”

She shook her head. “I don’t mean it as a judgment. I don’t know what I think. I’m confused and—”

His eyes darkened as he huffed out a long, low breath. Slowly, he raised his hands in submission as he headed for the door. “I think I’ve made my wishes clear. The rest? You need to decide, Becca.”