The War Hero's Locked-Away Heart. Louisa George

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      Then he was gone, his taut, muscular body thrashing through the churning water like a demon. And she stood gaping like a wet fish, stunned at the speed in which he’d simultaneously entranced and shocked her. Wondering why, when she had very definite plans to hot-foot it out of Atanga Bay at the earliest opportunity, she wanted to see that tattoo again. Close up.

      Not on my watch. Not again. A mouthful of Hauraki Gulf salt water ran down the back of Adam’s throat as he fought the waves to get to the surfer. He kept his heart rate in check. Used the adrenalin shunting through his veins to fuel actions, not hinder them. Focused his thoughts on saving. Not losing.

      Semper agens—Semper quietus. Always alert. Always calm. The medical corps motto beat a regular rhythm to every armstroke. Fifteen years of service and the rhythm spurred every action, like a heartbeat, a breath. A tattoo engraved on the sinews in his heart.

      An elevation. A funeral dirge.

      Years of hard army training, honing his body to a rock, moulding his mind to not accept defeat, had brought him to this. Water battered over his head, blurring his vision, testing his nerve. Defeat? He pushed that thought away. The drowning guy needed him. And right now he was the only hope of saving him.

      Thick, heavy waves dragged him back, just out of reach of the surfer, whose hand now flailed along the top of the water instead of waving. Amazing how exhaustion could rip through a man battling nature in a matter of minutes.

      Adam kicked closer. Pain squeezed his leg like a vice. The cold water gripped the ragged scarring. Don’t give in. He pushed all thoughts of pain away. Then lost sight of the man.

      Damn. Drawing on all his strength, he trod water, got his bearings. Glanced to the shoreline, where that strange woman paced and pointed. Damned cheeky but cute. In a weird kind of way. He imagined the deep espresso colour of her eyes, the crazy half-spiked hair. The intriguing tiny jewel in her nose. Ample curves. Interesting curves.

      So not what he needed to be thinking of right now. Or ever.

      She gesticulated, and he followed the line of her arm to the surfer. He gave her the okay signal.

      First time he’d given any woman a second thought since Monica. And here he was in the middle of a rescue operation, neck deep in freezing water. Exactly how he’d felt when they’d ended their fated marriage.

      There’s a lesson there.

      Focus on the task. ‘Hey, mate! Mate! Over here.’

      He got the attention of the guy, who feebly raised his head. Adam saw a huge red gash across his pale forehead. Shark meat too. Great. ‘I’m coming for you. Hold on.’

      The lad nodded, then disappeared under a ferocious wave. A few metres away. Metres. Nothing. You can do this.

      Adam sucked in air then duck-dived under the current, grabbed for an arm, a limb, some piece of the man. When his hand knocked against something soft he grabbed and kicked to the surface. Bingo.

      ‘Hold on. I’ve got you.’ He tossed the struggling surfer over onto his back, gripped him under his shoulders and kicked towards shore. ‘Stop fighting me. It’s all good now. We’re okay.’

      The woman, her smile broad like a beacon, ran waist deep into the water and helped drag the surfer to solid ground. Which was just as well, because as Adam met her large kohl-rimmed eyes again the earth seemed to tilt. Just a little.

      Or maybe it was the shock of the cold air, the shifting of the sand. His leg pinching again. ‘Give me a hand to lay him down. He’s breathing, but he swallowed a good part of that ocean.’

      Before he could give her more instruction, she’d flipped the surfer onto his side and was kneeling at his face, assessing the wound like a pro. ‘Hey, Lukas. Lukas?’

      Slowly their patient focused on her, then coughed. ‘What …?’

      ‘It’s Skye. It’s okay. You’re safe now. You okay? Took a good dunking, eh?’

      Sky? Adam frowned. What kind of name was that? Curious, too, that it was the one thing that spooked him. Sky. Open air. Nothing but a long way down to a hard landing. And pain. He shuddered.

      Sky. For a name? But it went with the territory. Unconventional. Unpredictable. And right now shivering in a flimsy black sports top and matching running shorts. Sea water had slicked her clothes to her body. Fascinating.

      He bent down to help her assess the surfer. Not that she looked like she needed help. She was calm and focused. Unlike him. She was distracting. He was distracted.

      In every rescue mission he’d ever undertaken he’d never allowed himself to be distracted. Never. ‘Okay, Lukas. Let’s have a good look at you. Got a whack from the board?’

      ‘Yeah.’

      ‘Nasty business.’ She smiled again at the surfer. Seemed she had enough smiles for everyone, and a few to spare.

      But she looked like she really cared for Lukas, like she wanted him to feel better. Like she wished she could take away his pain. Unlike his own automaton reactions. He knew how to follow strict army orders. First priority: action. No time for emotion. But she managed to mix the two with great effect.

      She peered into the boy’s face, got him to focus on her. ‘Great surf today, though. Bet you caught a few good ones, eh?’

      Lukas nodded and managed a weak smile. ‘Awesome. But I lost the board. I think it smashed on the rocks.’

      ‘Never mind, better the board than you. Sean says the change of seasons is the best time to surf. Something about the moon or the equinox. Makes no sense to me.’ Her bubbly chattering seemed to put the lad at ease.

      As she spoke she ran confident, slim fingers across his forehead, probing the wound and feeling for damage. Obviously trained in medical examination and filled with genuine concern. Not the kooky, useless type he’d pegged her as. Served him right to make huge assumptions based on his past experience with women.

      ‘How you manage it I don’t know. I tried it once and ended up face-planting in the shallows. I had sand burn for weeks. Never again. But you make it look so easy.’

      Fleetingly, as he watched her fuss around Lukas, Adam felt a keen sense of loss on what he was missing out on. Human contact. Warmth. Sharing things. It had been so long since a woman had given him the slightest fuss he wondered if it was time to start dating again.

      Then he cast that ridiculous notion aside. One messed-up marriage was enough.

      No, he was looking for simplicity. Just him and nature. Settled in serene Atanga Bay. Well, that’s what he’d heard anyway. Near drownings excepted.

      She continued with her gentle chatting. ‘I’ve phoned for an ambulance, Lukas. But you know what it’s like, it could take time.’ She turned to Adam, fixed him with those striking dark eyes. The short black hair intrigued him. So unlike the willowy blondes he usually dated. Had dated. ‘They’re always overworked and short-staffed, I’m afraid.’

      ‘Same story wherever you go.’ But not short-staffed any more. He opened his mouth to contradict her. Thought better of it. It would take too long, СКАЧАТЬ