Resisting Her Rebel Hero (7 page)

BOOK: Resisting Her Rebel Hero
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Cassidy frowned and held his gaze for a couple of beats, conscious of the look of wide-eyed apprehension the nurse flashed between them.

“Dr. Mahoney...?” Heather prompted, breaking the tension filling the room.

“Major Kellan will need the ultrasound,’ Cassidy said briskly with a curt nod in Sam’s direction, before moving to Gail’s feet. They transferred her to the operating table as Heather rolled the ultrasound into position. Cassidy took the proffered tube of gel and squirted a thick line over the apex of the patient’s distended belly.

Sam lifted the probe. “Go suit up,” he said quietly, eyes on the screen as he rolled the probe through the gel. “I’ll handle this.”

“Major—” she began, breaking off when his golden eyes lifted. “This is...” She bit her lip and ran her fingers through her hair in agitation. “Are you...?”
Damn
. How did you ask someone if they were sane enough to handle a delicate procedure like this one was going to be?

His face darkened with impatience, and Cassidy knew he wasn’t going to discuss what had happened in the hallway. Watching the expert way he wielded the probe, she was forced to admit he looked fine. More than fine. As though he hadn’t had a flashback—or whatever had happened—just minutes earlier.

“I’m fine, Doctor,” he snapped, returning his attention to the patient. “But
they
aren’t and unless you get your ass into gear, they won’t be for much longer.”

Cassidy hesitated another couple of beats. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said quietly, unsure whom she was addressing.

It took her less than a minute to throw off her clothes, pull on clean scrubs and scrape her hair off her face. By the time she’d finished scrubbing Sam was behind her, holding out a surgical gown that she slipped over her arms after a searching look up into his dark face.

He must have correctly interpreted her probing look because his mouth pulled into a tight line. “This is a job for two people who know what they’re doing.”

“Monty—”

“Isn’t here,” he interrupted smoothly. His eyes caught and held hers. “We can’t wait, Cassidy. And you know it.”

Knowing he was right, Cassidy ground her back molars together. “You’re right,” she admitted briskly, moving towards the OR doors, “but
you
assist.”

Heather Murray had already positioned the colored electrode pads and was fitting a saturation probe over the patient’s forefinger when Cassidy hit the doors with her shoulder. Tying the surgical cap at the back of her head, she slipped her hands into surgical gloves the nurse held out.

She watched as Heather hooked Gail up to the heart monitor, a wrinkle of concern marring her brow when a rapid beeping filled the silence. Stepping closer to the ultrasound screen, Cassidy studied the strip of images Sam had printed out, before gently palpating the woman’s belly. A quick examination revealed the baby lying breech, with its spine facing upward.

She felt rather than saw Sam come up behind her. “I’ve delivered babies in worse positions than this,” he said at her shoulder.

“So have I,” Cassidy agreed, “but not without an OB/GYN on standby. The bleeding is also a major concern.” When he remained silent, Cassidy lifted her head to find him studying her intently. Her heart gave a little lurch. “What?”

His eyes lit with a warm smile. “You can do it, Doc. Have a little faith. Besides, I’m right here.”

She was about to ask if he’d done
this
before but the monitor beeped and Heather called out, “Heart rate increasing, Doctor,” and Cassidy realized they didn’t have time to hang around debating his experience.

Sam shoved his hands into latex gloves while the nurse tied his gown and mask. Cassidy moved to the patient’s side and hoped she wasn’t making a terrible mistake. As the doctor on duty, she was about to trust a man who thought parachuting into hostile territory armed to the teeth was like making love. “Major—” Cassidy began, only to have him cut her off.

“I think we’ve had this conversation before,
Cassidy
,” he drawled, putting her firmly in her place as a colleague now. He looked big and tough and impatient—and most of all competent. After flicking a pointed look at Heather, he returned Cassidy’s gaze meaningfully. “We’re good.”

Biting back a sigh, she opened her mouth and said, “Let’s do this.”

Heather called anxiously, “Blood pressure dropping, Doctor.”

Cassidy’s gaze snapped to the monitor. “Keep an eye on the baby’s vitals and let me know if Mom’s BP drops below fifty.” Sam expertly swabbed the woman’s belly with iodine as Cassidy waited, scalpel in hand. The instant he was finished she felt for the correct place with her left hand and then made a clean incision with her right. The scalpel sliced through layers of skin, muscle and uterine wall. Sam gently coaxed the baby into position while she slid her hands into the exposed uterus. Within seconds the infant’s head and shoulders emerged and Cassidy could see why the baby had been lying breech—and why the mother was bleeding.

The placenta had detached from the uterine wall and the umbilical cord was looped around the baby’s neck and under her arm. The infant was blue and flaccid.

Cassidy’s heart gave a blip of alarm.
Dammit, dammit, dammit,
she chanted mentally, getting a firm hold on the infant while Sam gently unwound the cord. He accepted the heated towel the nurse offered as Cassidy slid the infant free and handed her over. Deftly cutting the cord, she applied the clip and looked up briefly to catch Sam’s intense gaze over the top of his face mask. His gold eyes were dark and solemn on hers. “She’s yours,” Cassidy said simply, and turned back to save the mother. Gail Sanders’s time was running out.

“I’ve got this,” he said, but Cassidy had already tuned out everything, instinct telling her that Sam really
did
have it. She didn’t have to make a choice or leave the endangered infant to the nurse.

Besides, there was nothing she could do for the baby now that Sam couldn’t do just as well.

Over the next half-hour she communicated with the nurse in terse bursts until she finally managed to get the bleeding under control. Heaving a relieved sigh, she wiped her burning eyes against her shoulder and ordered additional units of blood. Then she set about closing the uterus, the layer of muscle and finally the incision wound.

Lastly, she inserted a drain and stepped back to check the patient’s vitals. Finding her still critical but edging toward stable, Cassidy stepped back, wondering for the first time in more than an hour if Sam had managed to save the infant.

She caught sight of him waiting just beyond the lights. For long moments their gazes held, his eyes so intensely gold and solemn her pulse gave a painful little jolt. Had she...?
Oh, God, had she imagined that feeble little cry?
Then his eyes crinkled at the corners in a rare moment of shared accord and gestured to the pink bundle in his arms.

Suddenly tears burned the backs of her eyes and she sucked in a quick breath at the blaze of emotion blocking her throat.
They’d done it,
she thought on a burst of elation that she attributed to their accomplishment and not...well, anything else
.

She sent Sam a wobbly smile, rapidly blinking away her emotional tears as she turned back to recheck the patient’s vitals to give herself a minute. She clamped off the anesthetic, leaving the shunt in place. “We’ll keep her sedated while we wait for the chopper,” she told Heather, conscious of Sam’s silent scrutiny as they transferred the patient to the gurney.

“You’re not keeping her here?” he asked, as they covered Gail with a cotton spread and then a thick woolen blanket. Cassidy shook her head and went to the OR refrigerator, withdrawing a couple of vials of antibiotics.

“The hospital doesn’t have the facilities for such a critical patient,” she explained, hooking up another saline bag. “Besides, mother and child both need proper neonatal care. I want them in a large center with access to hi-tech facilities and equipment if anything goes wrong.”

Pulling down her face mask, she took a new syringe, slid the needle into first one vial and then the other, finally injecting the cocktail into the new saline bag.

“I’ll go speak to her husband,” she said, when she finally ran out of things to do, her emotions suddenly as fragile as the lives they’d just saved.

Disposing of needle, syringe and surgical gloves, she quickly wrote down the details of the procedure and the drugs she’d used. With a sigh of relief she turned to leave, stiffening in surprise when long fingers closed over her shoulder.

Looking up into Sam’s shadowed face, Cassidy sucked in a startled breath. Illumination from the surgical lights slid across the bottom half of his face, leaving the rest in deep shadow. It made him appear bigger and darker and...
hell
, more dangerous than ever.

Unbidden, images of what had happened in the suture room flashed through her head and she winced.
Darn
. One look into his dark gold eyes brought on a flashback of his mouth closing over hers in a hot, greedy kiss. She’d hoped to escape before he remembered that she’d almost climbed into his lap and rubbed her body against his. She licked dry lips.

“What?” she asked huskily, her throat tight with awkwardness and a sudden baffling anxiety.

“You want to see her?”

Sam watched confusion chase wariness across Cassidy’s face until he gently handed over his precious bundle. She’d been instrumental in saving the infant and deserved to share the joy of that new life.

Drawn by the subtle scent of her, easily discernible even over the antiseptic smells of the OR, Sam moved closer. He’d been immensely impressed with her ability and the efficient way she’d handled the crisis. She’d never once hesitated or panicked. Hell, he’d seen seasoned soldiers panic in less dire situations and had to admire how she’d kept a cool head.

It had been touch and go there for a while, but the newborn was finally pink and glowing with life. Tiny hands were tucked against a petal-soft cheek and the infant looked, Sam thought, like a cherub praying. Huge dark eyes stared up into Cassidy’s face with such mesmerizing intensity that the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rose. It was as though she knew she was being held by someone...special.

Her expression both delighted and enthralled, Cassidy gently touched a pink cheek and the tiny folded hands. “Look, Sam,” she breathed, “she looks like a little angel. Like she’s praying. Isn’t she the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

For long silent moments Sam found his gaze locked on Cassidy’s face, unable to utter a sound. Her expression was one he’d never thought to see on her beautiful face—soft and sweet and glowing with uncomplicated delight.

God
, he thought painfully,
she really is beautiful.
And so much more than he’d thought. Swallowing the lump blocking his vocal cords, he finally managed a raspy, “Yeah. Beautiful.”

Oblivious to his chaotic emotions, she continued to murmur softly to the infant, laughing when the little rosebud mouth opened in a wide yawn.

Feeling like he’d been shot in the chest with a high-powered rifle, Sam forced his emotions under control and moved to untie her gown. He finally gave in to the urge to brush his lips against the long elegant line of her throat as he leaned forward to murmur, “You did great, Doc.”

Goose bumps broke out across her skin and a shiver moved through her as she jerked away, her face flushing as she aimed an uncertain smile in his direction. At least he wasn’t alone in this unwanted attraction, he thought with satisfaction.

“You too, Major,” she answered briskly, carefully avoiding touching him as she passed the infant back. She moved away jerkily, looking suddenly tired—and spooked, like she was ready to bolt.

He tucked the baby into the crook of his arm. “Cassidy?”

She paused in the process of pulling off the surgical gown and sent him a look over her shoulder, eyes wide and a little desperate.

“Yes?”

“You going to finish what you started earlier...before we were interrupted?”

Immediately a wild flush heated her face and her eyes widened as though she thought he was suggesting they finish their interrupted kiss. Her mouth opened but all that emerged was a strangled, “Uh...”

“I have another twenty-seven stitches,” he went on, grinning wickedly at the deer-in-the-headlights expression that flashed across her face. Her mouth closed with a snap and her look of furious embarrassment had his soft chuckle following in her wake.

“Meet me in the ER in fifteen minutes,” she snapped, and Sam got the impression she’d considered punching the smile off his face. He was suddenly glad he was holding a newborn.

Cassidy Mahoney, it seemed, was not a woman to be trifled with. And why that made his grin widen, he didn’t know. Maybe he was an idiot, or crazy, like his family believed.

“What do you think?” he asked the infant staring intently up at him. The tiny girl blinked before surrendering to another big yawn, making Sam chuckle.

“Yeah,” he snorted softly, “my thoughts exactly, sweetheart.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

C
ASSIDY
 
SENT
F
RAN
 
G
ILBERT
to the ER to deal with a hot, appealing SEAL, assuring herself she wasn’t a coward. Besides, Gail’s husband needed a status update.

She found Chip Sanders being fussed over by one of the older nurses on duty. The warm, motherly woman in her late fifties squeezed the new father’s hand in silent support when they caught sight of Cassidy heading in their direction.

His expression was so painfully hopeful that Cassidy had to smile in reassurance as she announced that he had a beautiful baby daughter and that his wife’s progress was promising.

Chip leapt up with a joyous whoop and Cassidy had to laugh when he caught her in a huge grateful hug. She briefly returned his embrace, cautioning that Gail was still critical and that she and the baby were being transferred to Spruce Ridge General.

After he rushed off to see his new family, she found herself smiling as she headed for the wards. There was nothing like making someone so happy they forgot all trauma and fear, she mused. Fortunately for Chip, everything had worked out fine.

Thanks to one overwhelming Navy SEAL. A man who seemed to have a really bad effect on her. Just the sound of his deep voice sent excited little zings into places that had no business zinging and she ended up losing a good portion of her brain.

Just as Cassidy was writing notations on the night roster, news came through that the chopper was five minutes out. After giving the night nurse a few last-minute instructions, Cassidy headed for Recovery to collect the patients for transport.

She...
they
had done everything they could to ensure Gail Sanders and her baby pulled through the traumatic incident. It was now up to the OB/GYN at Spruce Ridge General to ensure they stayed that way.

Heather was waiting for her and together they rushed the new family to the helipad, where the Medevac helicopter was already landing. While the paramedics transferred Gail and her baby to the chopper, Cassidy gave the Medevac doctor a rundown of the patient’s condition and signed the release forms. With a nod, the guy sent her an appreciative smile and an over-the-shoulder thumbs-up as he loped off towards the waiting craft. Bare minutes after it had landed, the chopper was heading towards Spruce Ridge.

Beside her, Heather gave a huge sigh and sent Cassidy an elated smile. “Wasn’t that just great? I love it when a bad situation turns out well, don’t you?” She threw her arms around Cassidy and made her laugh with an exuberant hug. “Ooh, and wasn’t the major just wonderful? With Gail’s baby, I mean,” she added hastily, when Cassidy drew back with a dry look. “I heard Chip was blubbering like a little girl,” Heather chatted on. “Poor guy. He must have been terrified.” She stopped to sigh dramatically. “Isn’t he just dreamy?”

Cassidy eyed her sharply. “Who? Chip?”

Heather giggled. “No, silly. Samuel Kellan. Just wait until I tell the girls what happened. They’re going to flip. Imagine, me getting to see him in action with my own eyes?” She squeaked and gave Cassidy another quick hug. Then with a hurried, “You’re the greatest, Doc,” she turned and disappeared into the darkened hospital.

Cassidy shook her head at the departing nurse and turned to watch as the chopper’s running lights rose over the dark mountains. With the
whup, whup, whup
fading into the night, she took deep breaths of cold mountain air and slowly let the tension of the night slide away.

“Well,” she said dryly to no one in particular, “it seems Crescent Lake’s hero has done it again.”

She wasn’t jealous that Major Hotstuff was getting all the credit for the night’s work, she assured herself. He’d stepped up when she’d needed him, it was true, but you’d think he’d performed a miracle worthy of sainthood.

Laughing at herself, Cassidy went to tell Fran she was taking a break. Hoping to get a few hours’ sleep before the next emergency, she headed for the quiet of her office.

The privacy hallway connecting the offices was in darkness but dim light eased its way through an open doorway. Cassidy’s pulse gave a little bump and she paused as the scene brought back unpleasant memories. Fear clutched at her belly until she reminded herself that Crescent Lake wasn’t Boston. Drugged-up vice cops didn’t break into doctors’ offices in small mountain towns, looking for prescription drugs. At least she hoped not.

Besides, in the few weeks she’d been in town the most dangerous thing to happen had been when she’d been escorted to the local jail to treat a hot, attitude-ridden Navy SEAL.

No, that wasn’t quite true, she amended silently.
That
had been when he’d pushed her up against the ER wall and rearranged her brain synapses.

Heart hammering, Cassidy quietly approached the open doorway. She drew in a wobbly breath and peered around the door, half expecting to find crazed druggies ripping open drawers looking for their next fix. Her breath escaped in a whoosh when she found everything as it should be.

She was sliding her hand up the wall to turn off the light when she realized the desk lamp was on and not the ceiling fixture. Heading across the room, she reached over the desk to extinguish the lamp when a soft sound had her wide gaze flying towards the shadows. The sight of Crescent Lake’s favorite son draped over the sofa with an arm flung across his face, gave her a weird sense of déjà vu.

Straightening, Cassidy allowed her hand to fall away. It seemed the man couldn’t find anything big enough to accommodate his large body. She wondered absently why he hadn’t left, and took the opportunity to study him without him being aware.

He was back in the faded jeans and she took a moment to admire the way the soft material hugged his narrow hips and long muscular legs while cupping more intimate places. The black T-shirt fitted even more snugly, stretching across his wide chest while straining the shoulder seams and the sleeves around his big biceps.

It was only when she could see his lashes casting dark shadows on the slash of his cheekbones that she realized she’d moved across the room and was standing staring down at him like an infatuated adolescent.

Darn,
she thought, biting her lip, getting all excited about some
guy
was the height of idiocy—especially one who liked free-falling from high altitudes and blowing stuff up. One who wouldn’t be sticking around for long before he was off again, saving the world.

Turning to go, she spied a blanket over the back of the sofa and reached for it an instant before hard fingers clamped over her wrist. In less time than it took for her heart to jerk hard against her ribs, she was flying through the air to land with a bone-rattling thud that knocked the air from her lungs. She barely managed a strangled
oomph
as a heavy weight rolled her across the floor.

They came to an abrupt stop against the solid desk with Cassidy’s wrists shackled over her head. A large hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her shocked gasp.

Blinking, Cassidy found herself staring up into a dark face lit with fierce gold eyes. For an awful moment she visualized him whipping out a knife and slicing her throat before she could draw her next breath.

She felt him everywhere—heat and hardness pressing her soft curves into the floor. During the tumble, one long, hard thigh had found its way between hers, effectively pinning her down. All she could do was gasp and stare into gleaming gold eyes as she waited for his next move.

One second she could see her life flashing before her eyes, the next he was cursing and rolling away to lie silently and rigidly beside her. The suddenness of the move stunned her and all she could do was try to calm her jagged pulse and smooth her ragged breathing. All she could think was,
What the heck was that?
It had been scary and...
darn it
...she hated to admit it a little exciting.

She was a sick person.

She felt rather than saw his head turn. “You okay?”

And he was insane.

Sucking in air, Cassidy lowered her arms and pushed her hair off her face before rearing upright to glare down at him.

“Are you insane?” she demanded furiously, then snapped her mouth closed when she realized that maybe it wasn’t the most sensitive thing to say to someone suffering from PTSD—if that’s what he had—but,
heck
, the man gave being trigger-happy a bad name.

Not surprisingly, he didn’t look the least bit amused by what had happened. In fact, he looked mad—well, that made two of them—and embarrassed.

Embarrassed? What did
he
have to be embarrassed about?
She
was the one who’d gone flying through the air.

He scrubbed a hand over his face with a weary sigh and growled, “Sorry...” so softly she almost didn’t catch it.

Her jaw dropped open. “Sorry? You’re...
sorry
?” She was getting hysterical again and made an effort to lower her voice, even though she felt she was entitled to a little hysteria. “You can’t attack people like that and just say sorry, Major.”

He turned and scowled, his dark brows flattening across his forehead in a heavy line of frustration. “What the hell do you expect me to say? Besides, it was your fault.”

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. “
My f-fault?”
she spluttered, and when he smirked she had to get a firm grip on her temper before she gave in to the urge to smack it off his face.

“Hey, you were bending over me,” he pointed out reasonably, as if he had women bending over him all the time. And after witnessing Heather’s gushing infatuation, he probably did.
The jerk
. “What was I supposed to think? I thought you wanted to wrestle me to the floor. I was just being accommodating.”

Cassidy stared at him open-mouthed for a few seconds as his words sank in then uttered a sound of disbelief. She drew up her legs and shoved her hands in her hair before dropping her forehead onto her knees. She snickered helplessly for a few beats. “You are such a liar,” she said when she could talk without gasping.

He lifted the arm he’d slung over his face to crinkle his eyes at her, his poet’s mouth pulled into a crooked smile.
God, that little grin was appealing.

“Says who?
You?
” He made a rude sound. “For all I know, you
were
just looking for an excuse to roll around on the floor with me.
You
know, finish what you started earlier?”

“What
you
started, you mean,” she retorted.

“Me?”
He shook his head. “You have a defective memory there, Doc.”

“And you’re delusional. I ought to throw you out.” Another mocking sound accompanied the
yeah-right
look he sent her and she narrowed her gaze. “You don’t think I can?”

“Babe, I
know
you can’t.”

He sounded so arrogantly male that she straightened and stared at him. “Excuse me,” she demanded frostily. “Did you just call me
babe
?”

He grinned and said, “Uh-huh,” with the kind of look that had a bubble of laughter rising in her throat.
Darn
. She didn’t want to find him irresistible, but there was just too much to like. Despite...well, everything.

Blowing out a breath, she dropped her head back against the desk, suddenly exhausted by her ping-ponging emotions. “Well, don’t. It’s demeaning.”

“It is?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “Why?”

Cassidy snorted. “You ask that when you probably call every woman you meet
babe
because it saves you having to remember their names.”

Sam was quiet for a moment, as though he was seriously considering her accusation, before finally shaking his head and saying, “That’s not true. I don’t call the ward sergeant at Coronado Med Center
babe.
” He gave a shudder. “
Or
my CO’s wife, for that matter. That’s a surefire way for a guy to get court-martialed.”

Cassidy caught herself smiling when she couldn’t afford to. He was too big, too macho, too...
everything
. Everything she’d told herself she didn’t want in a man. Everything she was finding alarmingly likeable.

She pushed out her lower lip and blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re changing the subject, Major. It isn’t normal for anyone to think they’re being attacked in their sleep. I was just reaching for the blanket.”

“That’s what you say,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her when she rolled her eyes. Snagging her wrist, he tugged her towards him, tucking her body beneath his when she lost her balance. Cassidy once again found herself staring up into his darkly handsome face while his big body covered hers.

“What are you
doing
?” she squeaked, realizing his hard thigh was pressing against places that hadn’t seen any action in a long while. It was mortifying to admit those places were turning liquid with heat.

“If you need to ask,” Sam said, sliding his hand over her hip to rub his thumb into the crease her jeans created between hip and thigh, “you’re not as smart as I thought.”

She slapped a hand over his to stop him heading for forbidden territory. “I’m smart enough to know that whatever you’re thinking is a mistake.”


This
,” he murmured, and dropped a kiss at the outer corner of her eyebrow, “is not a mistake.” He slid his mouth to her ear. “SEALs carry really big weapons,” he whispered wickedly. “Wanna see?”

Cassidy’s gasp ended on a giggle at his terrible pun.
Yes, please.

No!
” She groaned silently.
No looking at his...weapon
. Or anything else.

“Major,” she began, trying to sound firm, but her voice gave a little hitch as arousal sent heat skittering through her veins. “Let me up.” If she stayed spread out beneath him like jelly on peanut butter, there was no telling what would happen.

His eyes had gone all dark and hot. He shook his head slowly. “I can’t,” he confessed, abruptly serious. Catching her hand, he brought it to his mouth, where he pressed a gentle kiss into the center of her palm. “I’ve tried.
God
knows, I’ve tried.” He nibbled on the fleshy part of her thumb. “There’s just no denying...
this
.”

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