LITMIR.BIZ

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on the pack. A jolt of heat caught at him. Spinning sideways, he swung the pack over one shoulder and hooked the mat under his arm then headed for the ship, ignoring Kristina and the inferno in his blood. That was the second time he’d felt the heat around her.

      Unfortunately she kept up with him. ‘I don’t expect you to carry my gear.’

      Chase stopped as quickly as he’d taken off. ‘I’m not trying to show you up as incapable. I’m exercising the manners I was taught as a lad.’ If not in the polite way his father expected.

      ‘It’s just...’ She hesitated, seemed to be thinking how to say whatever was bothering her. ‘I’m ex-army. No one ever carries your pack there.’

      He’d read in her CV about Kristina being ex-military. And the evidence was in front of him in her upright, controlled deportment—and apparently in her determination to carry her own pack. Because she’d heated his blood and stirred him with her soft laugh, he was going to rock her boat. ‘You’re not in the army now. I’ll carry these to the ship.’

      ‘Fine.’ Her mouth drifted up into a lazy smile, stirring him tighter. He should’ve walked right past the blasted gear and its owner. It was as though she was poking him with sharp pins to wake him up from a long, deep sleep. But he wasn’t asleep and as far as he could tell Kristina hadn’t come armed with anything sharp, except maybe her tongue.

      Chase pulled on his co-ordinator’s hat; only way to go. ‘I saw in your CV that you’ve worked in quite a few different medical jobs.’

      The smile slipped away slowly, painfully. The light that had begun shining in her eyes faded. ‘I have.’

      Again, there was more to this than the simplicity the words suggested. If she wasn’t saying anything else it had to be that something had happened to affect her badly. He’d respect that, because he understood too well about keeping fears close, and pain closer. Suddenly he wanted her smile to return. ‘On board we tend to treat one another kindly, no ordering anyone to do anything.’

      Her nod was abrupt. ‘Good.’

      Try again. ‘The refugees are going to love that calm manner you showed with Antoine.’

      ‘That’s me. Calm throughout a crisis, a bit rocky afterwards.’

      ‘No one would know that from helping Antoine.’ There. A subtle lifting of those lips he’d have missed if he hadn’t been watching for it. His heart lightened. Then her perfume wafted across his nose and he pictured pine cones on the fire at home. Pine and roses. Yes, the strange mix that was home was this woman’s scent. A scent he was not going to get out of his senses in a hurry. They’d just met, and she’d found a way to get under his skin already.

      It didn’t bode well for his sanity when they’d be crammed together for weeks with all the other medical staff in the small spaces that were the ship’s medical facilities. They’d probably end up hating the sight of each other. It happened. There was little privacy, no space to think without being interrupted. Having no alone time did a number on everyone, especially on those used to their own company; like himself. Something about how Kristina held herself, self-contained, suggested she’d fit into that group.

      Chase began striding towards the ship again. ‘I think most people have arrived.’ He automatically scanned the people at the gangway. And tripped. Ethan Reid stood at the bottom of the gangway, looking directly at him.

      Chase’s heart began a low thump, thump. So much of who he’d become was tied up in that man. And Nick.

      The past charged at him in waves, winding him, curdling his stomach, raising the fear of not being able to save those he loved, bringing ice and snow pushing away the warm summer air, suffocating him. Death. Not his. Nick’s. The crippling guilt.

      I can’t do this.

      Yes, he could. He had no choice. He’d been the one to put out the feelers, asking Ethan to step up to the promise he’d made way back then. If ever you need me, call.

      Right now Chase rued that phone call, even though it had been about helping others. But it was done. He needed to start moving forward, towards Ethan, the man he had saved instead of Nick, and the hideous past they needed to dispel, or at least subdue so they could work together. Would they be able to talk about what had happened that fateful day in the Alps? About why certain people had survived when others hadn’t? Why Nick had died, and Ethan had survived? Why he’d had to make that choice about who to save even when there really was no choice? Turning his back on Nick as the last breaths left his body had haunted him ever since, and made him go over it again and again looking for a way to change the outcome.

      ‘Chase? Are you all right?’ Kristina’s question seemed to come from miles away. Her hand gripped his arm, shaking him, soft and endearing in her touch.

      ‘Yes,’ he lied, stunned at how easily she saw past his barriers, how she was there with him. No one did that. No one. He shrugged free of her hand, his eyes firmly locked on Reid. Don’t think you’re getting the chance either. His past rose higher, flared, threatening to overwhelm him. Bile soured his tongue. ‘I’ve got to talk to that man.’ It was that or charge past him to shut himself away in his cabin and not come out for six weeks. Six weeks. Why had he made that blasted phone call?

      Ethan was walking towards him like they did this every day, but as he got closer Chase saw the tight lines around his mouth, the rigidness in his shoulders. Chase’s heart was still drumming that slow, heavy rhythm as he nudged his feet forward. ‘I’d have known you anywhere.’ Even after sixteen years.

      ‘Same.’ Ethan did the unexpected. He embraced Chase, tight, strong, hard.

      Tears sprang to Chase’s eyes. He refused to let them out. Refused. And won, by a scratch. Stepping back, he stared at the other man who’d haunted him for so long. Thump, thump, in his chest. This was relief over finally meeting up. It was time. Not that he had any expectations of this being an easy ride. No, the coming weeks were going to test patience and forgiveness on both their parts.

      ‘I’ll take my gear,’ came the voice of female reason from behind him.

      He barely noticed Kristina lifting the weight from his shoulder, although as she began walking away and he was watching Ethan, she slipped into his mind, sitting on the edge, like she was not going to be easy to ignore. Right now that was about the only thing he was certain of.

       Hell, Nick, what have I done?

       CHAPTER ONE

      Six weeks later

      ‘KRIS, GOT A MINUTE? I’d like you to look at my patient.’

      Kristina Morton ignored the man, even when his voice was like fingers picking at keys on a piano. Only that morning everyone had returned on board from a three-day break, and she’d missed him way too much for someone she wasn’t involved with.

      ‘Kris, over here,’ Chase called again, a little less friendly and a lot louder.

      She continued walking through the overcrowded cabin towards the steps leading out on deck. About once a week he used the abridged version of her name, winding her up something awful. He hadn’t a clue to the depth of anger and hurt being called Kris caused her—neither was he about to.

      ‘Kristina, your attention now.’

      Kristina’s back straightened, her chin jutted forward and her arm began lifting in a salute. Stop. You’re not in the army now. Being the person in charge of personnel on this ship didn’t give Chase the right to shout at her. Or shorten her name. But, she sighed, he had finally used the name she answered to. Slowly turning, she asked calmly, ‘Which patient do you want me to see?’

      Determination radiated out of eyes that reminded her of an English forest on a damp day. Chase wasn’t used to being ignored. Everyone

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