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Tiggy knew she would no more get used to being called ‘Lieutenant’ than she would get used to the army revolver she had in her possession. It was beyond her why they had issued her with one. There wasn’t the remotest chance of her ever firing it. She was more likely to shoot herself in the foot.
‘Good to have you with us.’ Nick grinned at her. His accent, like Sue’s, was an unusual mixture of Irish and Scottish.
Her heart did a crazy pirouette and it took all her willpower not to whimper. She managed a cool smile—at least, she hoped it was a cool smile and not a grimace—in his direction before turning to hear the names of the folk with whom she’d be working closely over the coming months.
Apart from the surgeons, there were nurses, radiographers, physios and several other professionals all involved in making sure casualties had access to the best care. The names were too many for Tiggy to remember, but she felt reassured by the warmth of her colleagues’ welcome.
‘If you need anything, let us know,’ an older nurse called Pat said. ‘There’s hardly any of us women so we have to stick together. Don’t mind this lot, I keep them in order.’
Nick detached himself from the desk he’d been leaning on and loped towards Tiggy. Everyone was too busy catching up with one another to notice him bending his head and whispering in her ear.
‘You recovered from the flight to hell yet?’ His warm breath fanned her neck causing goose-bumps to spring up alarmingly all over her body. She much preferred it when he was way over on the other side of the room.
‘Completely.’
‘Good. You may have to go out in the ’copter sometimes, though, on a retrieval. You do know that?’
Although Tiggy had heard it might be a possibility that she’d be asked to accompany the medical emergency response team, she hoped to hell it wouldn’t happen. If last night’s flight had been scary, how much worse would it be going into an actual hot zone? She lifted her chin. ‘If I’m needed, of course I’ll go. I’m here to do my bit, the same as everyone else.’
‘Good girl.’ He straightened and once again Tiggy was aware of his eyes sweeping over her body.
‘Hey, do you play poker?’ one of the male nurses asked. ‘I need someone new to take some money from. With the exception of Nick here, no one else will play with me any more.’
As everyone laughed, Nick turned towards them. ‘Time for ward rounds. Let’s go.’
They all started to troop away, leaving Tiggy feeling like a spare part. Nick fell back and touched her elbow.
‘What’s up, Red?’
If there was one thing Tiggy didn’t like it was being teased about her hair. She had put up with twenty-six years of it from her brothers and she was damned if she would put up with it from him.
‘The name’s Tiggy,’ she said through clenched teeth.
As Nick’s grin widened, dimples appeared on either side of his mouth and her overactive heart skipped another beat. Why did he have to be so damned sexy?
‘You’ll find out everyone here has a nickname,’ he drawled, and ruffled the hair on top of her head. ‘Come on, follow me.’
Had he actually done that? Ruffled her hair? Like she was his kid sister?
She raised her hand to her curls in a vain attempt to restore some order. She had cut her hair into its current pixie style hoping it would make it more manageable, but the heat of the desert had its own ideas and she knew her fringe was curling.
She nibbled her lip. Why the hell was she fretting about how she looked? Just because she’d be working with a hunk it was no reason to be fretting about a curling fringe. And hunk or not, he clearly thought he was God’s gift to women and, by the looks of it, probably tried it on with every new arrival. On the other hand, what did she have to worry about? Someone like him was bound to go after tall blondes with sylph-like figures—not curvy redheads with freckles.
She stared after his retreating back. Why, then, did the realisation give her no pleasure?
* * *
There were four patients between the two wards. In the first were three soldiers who, Sue explained, were in for observation and rehydration after a nasty bout of gastroenteritis. ‘We don’t keep the injured men here for long. We patch them up, operate if we have to, then we pack them off to the Queen Elizabeth in Birmingham as soon as they’re stable. You’ll find that nursing here is a mixture of frenzied activity followed by hours of boredom.’
Sue introduced her to the patients while Nick read their notes. After he’d ordered more tests he spent a few minutes chatting with them, teasing them a little for shirking. Then they moved to the next ward.
Its only occupant was a little Afghan girl with masses of dark curls and round brown eyes who was sitting up in bed looking lost and scared. Her body, from her forehead to the top of her pyjama bottoms, was covered in red angry welts and her right arm was heavily bandaged.
‘This is Hadiya,’ Sue said with a smile at the little girl. ‘She knocked over the family’s paraffin heater a few days ago and sustained severe burns to her face, neck, chest and arm. We managed to save the arm, but she’s going to require extensive reconstructive surgery if she’s to regain full use of it.’
Nick said something in Pashto and the little girl giggled. All at once some of the fear left her eyes and she looked up at Nick with adoration.
‘The surgeons had to remove a great deal of tissue from her hand and arm,’ Sue continued, ‘but she needs grafts.’
‘The problem is,’ Nick said slowly, ‘we can’t do it for her. Now she’s stabilised she has to go to a local hospital and it’s highly unlikely she’ll get the surgery she needs there.’
‘Why can’t we do it here?’ Tiggy asked.
‘Because this is a military hospital and the reality is, if we make an exception for one civilian, how do we say no to others? Our resources would soon be overwhelmed. As difficult as it is, we have to transfer non-combative cases once they have stabilised.’
‘But that’s not right!’
Nick raised an eyebrow. ‘What would you have us do?’
‘I don’t know! Something.’
He eyed her thoughtfully. ‘I haven’t given up on her if that’s what you’re thinking. In the meantime, however, we have other patients to see.’
CHAPTER TWO
HOW ANYONE COULD expect her to run around the perimeter of the camp in this heat while carrying a rucksack that weighed more than her own body weight, Tiggy couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t as if she was ever going to go out on patrol. That was left to the regular army doctors and the medics.
Although it was only just after six, the sun was already beating down and making her skin sizzle. She gasped for breath. If they didn’t let her stop soon she was going to have a heart attack.
‘Okay. Drop to the ground and give me twenty press-ups,’ the sadistic sergeant shouted. Twenty! She doubted she could manage more than five. If that.
She didn’t so much drop to her knees as collapse in a heap.
She had just finished her fourth press-up and was lying face down with her forehead resting on her hands when someone grabbed the back of her trousers and lifted her six inches off the ground.
‘I believe you have a few more to go,’ a familiar voice said. She didn’t have to turn her head to know it was Nick, and that he was laughing.
She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but it was no use. The grip he had on the waistband of her trousers was such that she couldn’t even turn far enough to see his face. ‘Let me go,’ she hissed.
‘The sergeant isn’t going to let up until you finish.’
As she was bobbed up and down she turned her head to the side. Sure enough, everyone else had finished and were all, including the traitorous Sue, sitting back on their haunches, taking long swigs from their water bottles and watching the scene with evident glee.
‘Sixteen, seventeen,’ Nick called out, and to Tiggy’s added chagrin he was joined by several voices.
‘Eighteen!’
Was this nightmare ever going to end? She took her mind off what was happening by imagining what she would do to Nick when she got the chance. Diuretics in his coffee? No, this needed something worse.
‘Nineteen! Twenty!’ He let her go so unexpectedly she sprawled face down in the dust. She staggered to her feet and furiously patted the dust from her front.
Nick held out his water bottle. ‘You might need a drink.’
‘If you ever—and I mean ever—do that to me again,’ she snarled, ‘I’ll...’
He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. ‘Do what?’
She drew herself up to her full height and pushed away the water bottle. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. ‘Try it again, and you’ll see.’ God! Was that the best she could manage?
Then, unbearably conscious of everyone’s eyes on her, she stalked away with as much dignity as she could muster.
* * *
Later, after she rinsed as much of the sand from her hair as she could in the dribble that passed for a shower, she went to report for duty, pausing only to pick up a banana from the mess.
She was still livid with Nick. Okay, so she might have poured out her life story—or at least the first half of it—to him while they had been on the plane, but that was no reason for him to treat her like an annoying kid sister. Hell, she was twenty-six.
And she didn’t want Nick to treat her like a kid sister.
The thought brought her up short. Damn, she was no better than the rest of Nick’s admirers. But she had one card up her sleeve. At least she knew he couldn’t be taken seriously. Her brother Charlie had been just like Nick. He too had thought he was God’s gift to women, having had a seemingly endless series of short-term girlfriends until he’d met and married Alice. Her other brother, Alan, was still working his way through the female population of the UK.
To her dismay, Nick was standing outside the main tent when she arrived, almost as if he’d been waiting for her. He had a cup of coffee in his hand.
‘Recovered?’ he asked.
‘Very amusing. You’ve had your fun, now why don’t you go...’ she waved her hands vaguely in the direction of the camp ‘...and do some weightlifting or something?’
Dark eyes studied her and a small smile played on his lips. ‘Don’t be mad,’ he said softly.
‘I don’t get mad. I get even.’
She groaned inwardly. Couldn’t she have thought of a retort that was a little less clichéd? She was becoming more inarticulate by the minute. At least it was better than blushing.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘I know you’re a major and I’m only a lieutenant, but I won’t be made a fool of.’
That was better! Now she was showing some backbone.
He lost the smile, although there was still a suspicious glint in his eyes. ‘You’re right.’ He raised his hand to his head in a mock salute. ‘I apologise. Unreservedly.’
Flustered by his unexpected apology, she looked at her watch. Seven-thirty. ‘Don’t you have work to do?’
He tossed the dregs of his coffee onto the ground. ‘Actually, I don’t. I’ve finished rounds and it’s all quiet.’ He eyed her speculatively. ‘Don’t suppose you play poker?’
‘As a matter of fact, I do. However, unlike you, I have work to do.’ She swept past him, aware that he was following her. Every hair on her body stood to attention.
‘What about tomorrow? When you’re finished for the day? Come over to the bar—the NCOs’, that is. It has, let’s just say, a more relaxed atmosphere there.’
Why was he so interested in what she did in her spare time? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? If he wanted someone to amuse him there were bound to be plenty of others happy to fill that role. However, a plan was forming in her mind. She turned around and smiled. ‘Sure. Why not? Let’s say six.’
* * *
Determined never to have a repeat of the fiasco with the press-ups, Tiggy decided to run around the camp perimeter every morning before breakfast. Despite the humiliation of having hundreds of men calling out encouragement as she wheezed and puffed her way around the track, she gritted her teeth and kept telling herself that she could do it. Anything was better than yesterday’s embarrassment of having Nick’s hands on the waistband of her trousers when he’d helped her complete her press-ups.
But once again, damn the man, he appeared like the devil from hell beside her. He shortened his strides to keep pace with her.
‘Hello, Red. Turned over a new leaf, have you?’
‘If you call me Red again,’ she wheezed, ‘so help me, I won’t be responsible for my actions.’
A slow smile crossed his face. He held up his hands with his fingers crossed. ‘I promise never to call you Red again. If I do, you can have all my poker matches and that’s a promise.’
She hid a smile. She hadn’t known she could smile and run at the same time. He turned round so that he was running backwards. He was shirtless and his combat trousers were so low on his hips she couldn’t help but notice his six-pack. She averted her eyes, pretending an interest in a passing Jeep.
‘How many circuits?’ he asked.
‘This is my last.’ She wasn’t about to tell him it was also her first. One circuit was torture enough and she was determined to wait until she got to the safety of her quarters before she collapsed.
‘I’m impressed.’ His toffee-coloured eyes crinkled at the corners.
‘Don’t you have lives to save or something?’ She indicated the hospital tent with her arm.
‘Not right at the moment.’ Even running backwards, he managed to look her up and down. ‘I saw you come out for your run and the thought struck me that I might have to save yours. Looks like exercise hasn’t exactly been high on your agenda until now.’
Was he implying she looked like a couch potato?
‘Although you clearly do something to keep in shape,’ he added.
Oh, please. Despite everything, the look of frank admiration in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.
Come on, Tiggy. Get a grip. This man is out of bounds and even if he wasn’t, he is so not your type.
But it was as if her mouth had a mind of its own. ‘Been watching me, huh?’ A stitch had started somewhere below her ribs and the last word came out more as a cry of anguish than the casual reference she’d meant it to be. How long could one kilometre be? It could be the damned end of the world as far as she was concerned.
She gasped for air, trying to ignore the increasing pain in her side.
His eyes flickered over her and he frowned. ‘You all right?’
‘Never been better—or at least I will be when you leave...me...alone...’ She managed another couple of strides and then had to stop. She bent over, clutching her knees, as a wave of pain slammed into her. Dear God, was she having a heart attack?
Before she knew it she was being lifted over his shoulder.
‘Put me down,’ she yelled into his back—a back that she couldn’t help noticing, even from her upside-down position, was ridged with muscle.
‘I will as soon as I find some shade. Don’t you know better than to exercise in this heat? Are you crazy, woman? You should have started earlier, or there’s a decent air-conditioned gym on the other side of the camp that’s better suited for someone who’s not used to exercise.’
There was a gym? An air-conditioned gym? Why on earth had no one told her? Why hadn’t she asked?
Then she was inside her tent and he was laying her on the bed. Sue rushed over, concern furrowing her brow. ‘What happened? Is she okay? Tiggy, speak to me.’
