Seal of Honor(77)

Audrey drew a breath, let it go in a rush, and faced him. “She’s gone to get the paperwork stating you’ve refused medical treatment.”

“All right. Now we’re getting somewhere.” He’d been in the process of changing into an olive green t-shirt and cammies when the nurse interrupted, and finished now, skimming the hospital scrub bottoms down his legs. It hurt to bend over and pull them off, but he clamped his teeth together and worked through the pain.

Pain was a SEAL’s best friend.

Audrey made an exasperated sound. “Oh, for God’s sake. Sit down before you fall down.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re weaving on your feet.”

Shit, he was, wasn’t he? He made himself stand still by force of will and the room started spinning around him. Two days flat on his back in bed may have helped his healing side but had done shit for his equilibrium.

Audrey planted a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him down. The fact that his legs buckled under such light pressure did not hurt his ego. Much. But the fact that she was now undressing him like a mother did a baby, with nothing sexual to it at all, smarted big time.

“I can do it.”

She slapped away his hands then reached over to yank the privacy curtain shut around the bed. “No, you can’t. You were shot less than forty-eight hours ago.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said mildly, but Audrey seemed not to hear him.

“Jesse says you’re an idiot for not letting yourself recuperate and I agree, but you’re too much of a pigheaded jerk to listen to either of us!” She pulled his shirt off over his head. “You need to be careful not to rip out your stitches or you’ll start bleeding again. You don’t need to lose any more blood. And that splint on your foot is going to limit your movements. You won’t have the mobility you’re used to, so no running or jumping out of freaking airplanes or whatever it is you do on these insane missions.”

Was she…? Shit, she was. Crying. Fat tears pouring down her cheeks.

“Whoa, whoa. Aud, stop.” He reached for her, but she jerked out of his grasp and refused to meet his eyes. Damn, she might as well have shoved a stake through his heart. Would have hurt less. He rubbed the center of his chest. “I’ll be okay. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” With jerky movements, she flicked away tears before yanking off the scrub pants and throwing them aside. She snapped up the cammies and stuffed his feet into the holes. Even as angry as she was, she was careful not to jar his bad foot. “You shouldn’t be going anywhere in your condition. Especially not out after dangerous terrorists.”

“My condition?” He almost laughed, but wisely choked it back. “C’mon, this is nothing. I’ve done far more in far worse shape.”

“I’m sure you have.”

The bitterness in her voice surprised him. “Audrey, I’m trying to save your brother. Don’t you want him home safe?”

“Of course I do.” She stopped trying to dress him and laid her head on his bare thighs, wrapping her arms around him. Her tears felt hot on his skin, her sobbing breaths tickling his leg hair.

God, she had to notice the way his body, battered as it was, responded to her touch. How could she not? His erection was at half-mast, right there by her cheek, straining toward her, all but begging her to turn her head and—and, oh baby, she did.

“But not at the expense of losing you.” Her breath whispered over his flesh before she kissed him, a light caress of her lips down his shaft. The contact jolted and sizzled through his nerves like electricity. As she opened her mouth and took him in deeper, it nearly broke every careful link of control he’d spent his life forging. Again. He couldn’t afford that, not now when everything was situation critical, not when it left him feeling so raw and exposed afterward.

He gripped the back of her neck, intending to pull her away but managing only to draw her lips up to his. She hiked up her skirt and fumbled to straddle him.

“Audrey,” he groaned and gripped her rear, guiding her down.

She gasped and her head fell back in pleasure. The ends of her hair tickled his legs. “Oh, please, Gabe. I need this. I’ll be careful not to hurt you.”

Gabe snorted a laugh. “You’re not going to hurt me. The nurse—”

“Two pump chump, remember? I won’t last.”

God, he realized, neither would he.

Her eyes, still spilling tears, never left his, and he saw her heart there, his for the taking if he wanted. He did. Christ, did he ever want it, want her. So much that he ached with a sweet need to make her his forever. But he couldn’t. It was impossible. He couldn’t be the kind of man a woman like her wanted for the long haul.