LITMIR.BIZ

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she slept. Her loose, light brown hair spilled over the pillow, making his mouth dry. He moved to sit beside the bed and brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face. Dark lashes rested against her cheeks.

      He took her hand, so soft and warm, and settled back to wait for her to wake up, though he had no idea how to proceed from here. He’d grown attached to this beautiful, spirited woman. But how could he ever act on his feelings when doing so would jeopardize both of their careers in the air force? No, he had to find a way to stuff his emotions back into their boxes and maintain a professional distance from Felicity.

      Unfortunately, he had a feeling that might be as easy as bottling her laughter.

      * * *

      “You’re going to be okay.”

      Felicity pressed her lips together to keep a chuckle from escaping. From the moment she’d awoken in the hospital with Westley holding her hand, he’d been comforting, soothing, and had assured her that she hadn’t ingested enough of the poison inside the tainted bottle of salad dressing to cause any permanent damage. “So you’ve said for at least the tenth time.”

      After being discharged, Westley had brought her home and insisted she rest on the couch. He’d put an afghan over her, fluffed a pillow behind her head and brought her a tall glass of water.

      She should be annoyed by his incessant need to treat her like an invalid except the relief, concern and tenderness in his eyes made her heart pound. She couldn’t deny she liked having his attention, the good kind, lavished on her. He made her feel special and cared for. His haggard appearance was testament to having slept by her bedside in the hospital last night. Only a man who cared would do that, right?

      She had no idea what to do with the thought, so she tucked it away for safekeeping.

      “Sorry. I’m hovering.” He frowned, clearly befuddled by his own behavior.

      She captured his hand and gave a gentle squeeze. “It’s all right. I’m sure it was scary. I’m grateful for Dakota or I’d have kept eating the salad.”

      “He’s a hero.”

      She turned her focus to the dog in question. He sat next to the couch with his nose resting on her knee. “You’re a good boy, Dakota.”

      His tail wagged.

      “He must have smelled the hemlock in the dressing,” she said.

      “A good thing, too. His sensitive nose saved your life.”

      She’d seen dogs turn away from tainted food before, that wasn’t something that needed to be trained into a dog. She was glad that Dakota was watching out for her welfare.

      The house phone rang. Westley brought her the cordless handset. She glanced at the caller ID and sighed inwardly when she saw it was Dr. Flintman, the base therapist. No doubt he’d heard about her trip to the ER. “Hello.”

      “Felicity,” the doctor’s deep, kind voice boomed in her ear. She held the phone slightly away from her. “You haven’t been in to see me.”

      She smiled wryly. “No. I’ve been a bit busy.”

      “I’ve heard. Very traumatic. How are you coping? Are you still having nightmares?”

      She could honestly say she hadn’t had one for the past few nights. First, because she’d felt safe with Westley downstairs, and then, of course, last night was spent in the hospital. “I’m doing okay. I haven’t had a nightmare in a few days.”

      “Hmm. You really should come in to the office. I have some medication I think will help to keep you doing okay.”

      “Like I said before, I’d rather not take anything. If things get bad again, I’ll call.”

      “Well, I can’t make you, but I’m here if you need me.” The doctor hung up.

      Felicity placed the handset on the end table and met Westley’s curious gaze. He’d taken a seat in her father’s recliner. It was nice to see him sitting there. Her father wouldn’t have minded.

      “Nightmares?” Westley asked.

      She’d been worried that Westley would find out about her visits to the base therapist. Now, though, she had no choice but to tell him the truth and hope he wouldn’t think differently of her. “After I found my father, I started having really bad dreams. I sought help with Dr. Flintman.”

      “Ah. Good for you.”

      The approval in his eyes pleased her, and she felt relieved. “It helped a bit to talk about it. He offered to prescribe some medication that he thought I’d benefit from but I’m holding off taking it.”

      “I understand. But if things get bad—”

      “I’ll reconsider,” she said.

      “Okay.” He leaned back. “Lieutenant General Hall said you are to rest today and we’ll get back to work tomorrow.”

      “Did you sleep at all?”

      “No.”

      Tender empathy crowded her chest. “I think we could both use the rest.” She rubbed Dakota’s head. “We’ve got an alarm right here.” She could tell Westley wanted to protest. “Please.”

      He nodded. “I won’t be any good if I’m asleep on my feet.” He pulled the lever that elevated his feet and reclined the chair back. He cocked an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to rest, too?”

      She did chuckle then. “Yes, I will.”

      She stretched out on the couch and turned on her side to face him. After a moment, she closed her eyes, sure she wouldn’t fall asleep with him so close by.

      But it was two hours later when a pounding noise woke her up. Her eyes popped open in time to see Westley vault from the recliner, his hand on his sidearm. He blinked several times as if getting his bearing.

      Sitting up, she said, “Someone is at the front door.”

      He strode across the living room and pulled open the door. Tech Sergeant Linc Colson stood there.

      “The captain asked me to swing by and check on you two,” Linc stated.

      Westley stepped aside so he could enter. “We were resting.”

      Linc came all the way into the living room. “It’s good to see you’re doing well,” he said to Felicity.

      “Thanks.” Deciding this would be a good time to freshen up, she stood up. “I’m going upstairs.”

      Westley hurried to her side as she headed to the staircase. She leveled him with a pointed look. “I don’t need you hovering.”

      He raised his hands. “My bad.”

      She couldn’t resist touching a hand to his chest. “You’re a good man, Westley James.”

      His blue eyes darkened with something that made her pulse skip. She jerked her hand back and fled upstairs before she gave in to the dangerous urge to kiss him.

      * * *

      It took all of Westley’s self-control not to chase her upstairs and tug her into his arms and kiss her. He’d seen the yearning on her pretty face and felt the answering longing deep inside of himself. If they’d been alone...

      Wow. He was in so much trouble.

      Kissing Felicity would be...amazing. Not to mention reckless.

      And knowing that she’d felt it, too, sent joy soaring through him. He quickly wrestled the wayward attraction into a far corner where it wouldn’t see the light of day again. Or at least where he could pretend it didn’t exist.

      He had to keep his head and his heart on the path before him. Logically, he understood his emotions were heightened from nearly losing her. They were both running on intensified feelings that had no place in

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