The Tortured Rebel (9 page)

Was part of why he’d been so affected by Matt’s death due to feeling guilty that he hadn’t done that little bit more? Maybe the answer to that had been telegraphed in the discomfort she’d witnessed when he’d seen her taking in what he’d managed to do on Tokolamu.

The knot inside her was a kind of grief.

She loved Jet but if she was incapable of forgiving him completely there could never be any kind of future with him even if he felt the same way. And that kiss had suggested he might.

Forgiveness implied trust.

Trust made you vulnerable.

Was she, in fact, prepared to make herself vulnerable? She had worked hard for a very long time to protect herself from the pain you could risk by being vulnerable. To prevent herself ever falling over that precipice.

Maybe she should just leave well enough alone. She had always wanted to be with Jet and have him touch her intimately. Now she knew the reality of it and perhaps a perfect memory was the best outcome for both of them. Why ruin it by digging up things that could only push them apart and make them regret what had happened here?

The navy vessel was sighted early that afternoon and even after it had anchored safely away from the rocks surrounding the island, there was still enough daylight to embark on the treacherous task of evacuating everybody safely.

The injured went first because it needed a huge team to carry stretchers over the rocks and down to the jetty. Despite the willing team of volunteers, it was a slow process. Getting from the jetty into the inflatable craft was tricky and then they needed to be winched up a daunting height to get on board the ship at the other end of the short journey.

Jet made the trip with every one of the injured. First Adam and then Jim and then Jack. He handed them over to the ship’s surgeon and made sure his patients were settled and stable before returning to the island. The others could be taken off in small groups but the sun was almost setting by the time the last group had a boat available.

Becca was in that last group. Jet and Steve, who was
manning the outboard engine because he knew every rock to watch out for, were a tight team by now. Jet hung on to ropes on the jetty, trying to keep the boat reasonably stable in an increasing swell. With his free arm, he offered support to each person making the controlled jump from the edge of the wooden jetty into the boat.

He made sure he caught Becca’s uninjured arm and he gripped it firmly. No way was he going to let her slip and go into the sea between the dinghy and the jetty. A wave rolled past as she stepped out and the boat tilted sharply. Jet let go of the rope, caught Becca in his arms and rolled onto the bottom of the dinghy, ensuring that he landed on his back to provide a cushion for her. A whoop of approval came from Steve and the others on board clapped and cheered.

‘Score!’ Someone shouted.

The relief of being rescued, combined with exhaustion and the aftermath of adrenaline release, was beginning to make them all feel somewhat euphoric. Even Becca was grinning as Jet helped her up and onto the shelf seat along the side of the boat where she could get a grip on a loop of rope. Another two people to get on board and then they were off, skimming over the top of the waves, leaving the island of Tokolamu and its angry heart behind.

For the next hour or so happy chaos ensued as the rescued were assigned cabins and given access to hot showers and fresh clothes. Jet took advantage of all the facilities himself but only after checking again on all the patients. Jim was creating the most concern.

‘BP’s dropped,’ the ship’s surgeon told Jet. ‘I’ve got some fresh, frozen plasma running but I’m not happy.
We’ll arrange a helicopter transfer as soon as we’re within range but that’s not going to be until morning.’

‘Are you set up for surgery if it’s needed?’

‘Yes. Most we’ve ever done at sea is an emergency appendectomy, though.’

‘Splenectomy’s in the same ballpark.’

‘You’re experienced?’

‘I’ve done a few.’

‘Good.’ The older doctor nodded with approval. ‘Here, take this pager. I’ll beep you if anything changes. Or would you like me to look at that cut on your head now?’

‘It can wait. I’ll clean up first.’

So Jet had a shower and put on some grey track pants and the white T-shirt he’d been provided with. He picked up the pager and clipped it to the waistband of the pants. Seeing the last glow of the sunset on the horizon through the porthole of his cabin as he got dressed, he made his way up on deck and to the stern of the now slowly moving ship. He wanted a final glimpse of the island that he knew would loom large in his memory for as long as he lived.

When he got to the railing at the stern, just over the churning wake, he found he wasn’t alone.

Dressed identically, in the soft grey pants and a white T-shirt that was way too large for her, was Becca.

With the backdrop of an island that was already looking small and a dying sunset that stretched as far as the eye could see across a vast ocean, Becca looked tiny. The urge to gather her into his arms and protect her was strong enough to immobilise Jet for a heartbeat as he joined her at the rail.

Protect her from what?

They were safe now. Heading away from the danger of this unexpected adventure and back towards their normal lives. So why this overwhelming feeling that there was something she still needed protection from? What was it?

A job she had chosen and clearly loved that was actually a lot less dangerous than what he chose to do with his own life at regular intervals?

The past? Would trying to sort out that tangle of unhappy memories somehow protect Becca from renewed pain in the future?

And why did that matter so much? Did he see himself as part of that future?

Yes.

No.

Confusion held him in utter silence. They stood there, side by side, staring at the shape of the island that was now being swallowed by the night.

Jet didn’t do involvement with women. Not long term. He couldn’t invite Becca into his life and then walk away from her, though, could he?

If he took that step, it would be for life.

And it would irrevocably change
his
life.

Could he even give her what she’d want? Or need? What she deserved?

Highly unlikely, given that he’d never been able to give it to any other woman in his life. He had long since accepted that he was a lone wolf. He had his pack, with Max and Rick, but he needed too much freedom.

He’d end up hurting her.

She’d end up hating him. The way she had for the past decade. Nothing fundamental had really changed,
had it? How could it when they hadn’t even talked about any of it?

With no conscious awareness, Jet had somehow moved closer to Becca. Their hands were touching where they rested, side by side, on the railing. He became aware of it because it was like an electric current. Stealing up his arm and into every cell of his body. When Jet looked up from his hand in a kind of wonder at the speed of that current, he found Becca looking up at him.

The night was closing around them. The tropical breeze caressing them was making Becca’s newly washed, short hair do its utmost to curl. Her eyes were shining with an emotion he couldn’t identify. Relief, perhaps, that they were leaving the trauma of the island experience behind?

Her lips were parted and he saw the tip of her tongue emerge to dampen them. Perhaps she was planning to be the first to say something but Jet didn’t give her the chance. Maybe he didn’t want to hear anything that might break the spell that had been suddenly cast.

So he bent his head swiftly and kissed her.

It was only intended to be a gentle gesture. An acknowledgment of something that was far more profound than mere sexual attraction. But how on earth could he have forgotten that explosion of heat that came from touching Becca like this?

It melted self-control, that heat. It spread like the volcanic eruption they had witnessed last night until it felt like his whole body was glowing with it. It radiated from his fingertips and yet he could feel even more heat coming from the skin they were touching. On Becca’s face. On her neck. Under that T-shirt where they encountered the smoothest, most delicious curve of her belly
and the tiny ridges of her ribs and then the soft swell of a perfect breast.

He heard her gasp as he cupped that breast, letting his thumb caress her nipple. He heard the tiny groan of surrender as she pressed herself into his hand and reached for
his
skin.

He also heard the insistent beeping that was coming from the device clipped to his track pants. The pager summoning him because someone was in trouble. Probably Jim.

Letting go of Becca was the hardest thing Jet had had to do in his life.

And that, in itself, was as strident a warning as the sound coming from the pager.

His voice felt raw. ‘I have to go.’

Becca simply nodded. She stepped back and turned towards the railing again, gripping it with both hands. Jet heard the way she sucked in a new breath as he moved away and it sounded oddly like a sob.

And that was when he understood.

She did still need protection from something.

Him.

T
HE
helicopter made a perfect landing on the designated expanse of deck at the stern of the ship.

‘Nice.’ Becca nodded.

With the loud whine of rotors about to slow to an idle, her admiring comment couldn’t possibly have been overheard by the group of people standing around the stretcher but one of them looked up and mirrored her nod.

Maybe Jet was the only one of them who could appreciate the skill needed to bring a chopper down so neatly on a moving target.

It was what Becca had come on deck to watch so there was no reason to stay any longer.

Every reason not to, in fact.

Did she really want to watch the stretcher being loaded and the aircraft taking off again?

Jet was here with his patient. The man he’d been with for most of the night, according to the ship’s grapevine. Emergency surgery had been needed and then careful monitoring afterwards. Becca, like most of the others rescued from the island, had stayed up until they’d heard the news that the surgery had been successfully completed. With that crisis dealt with she had suddenly had
as much sparkle as a deflated balloon and had gone off to the cabin she was sharing with Mandy to curl up in her bunk and escape into blessed unconsciousness.

Of course, it had been successful. Another life had been saved. She had expected nothing less. Just like she expected that Jet would climb into that military helicopter to accompany his patient to the nearest large land-based hospital.

Yes. He was about to exit her life with just as much drama as he’d stepped back into it. But did she really want to watch?

She might never see him again.

Becca swallowed hard. She tried to tell herself that it was a good thing. In the past two days, ever since the moment she’d set eyes on Jet again, her life had been tipped upside down and shaken violently. The physical trauma and danger were things she could easily deal with but the emotional roller-coaster was something else entirely. Nobody could survive this kind of turmoil unscathed and the problem was generated by Jet’s presence. When he vanished, life as she knew it would at least have a chance of resuming.

It had to. Despite hours of sleep, gently rocking in that narrow bunk, Becca simply didn’t have any reserve of energy or strength left. Not even enough to make her legs work and take her away from watching Jet leave so she stayed where she was and watched the stretcher being loaded and secured in the belly of the helicopter. Jet was talking to the army medics in their flight suits and helmets but then she saw him step back and the rear hatch of the chopper was closed and locked.

The rotors picked up speed and Jet was in a half-crouch as he got well out of the way. Becca saw the
thumbs-up signal of the pilot and watched the skids lift smoothly from the deck. The chopper hovered for a moment, moved sideways and then banked as it gained height rapidly and left the ship behind. In no time at all it was a dot, disappearing into the horizon.

Still she didn’t move. She watched the small crowd disperse. All the conservation workers who’d come to wish their colleague a speedy recovery and see him taken away filed through the narrow door to go back inside. The ship’s surgeon and the crew members who’d been involved in the transfer went off to their work.

Everybody had gone. Except Jet. He came towards her and Becca’s mouth felt dry. It was curiously hard to say something.

‘How come you didn’t go with them?’

‘He’s stable and he’s in good hands. They’ll be back later to transfer the others, anyway.’

‘So you’ll catch a ride then?’

Jet shrugged. ‘Maybe I fancy an overnight cruise.’

Becca couldn’t read his expression but he seemed to be watching her carefully. Gauging her reaction. Why? Was he choosing to stay with the ship because of her?

Because he wanted to be with her?

Oh … help. She had to look away and the vast expanse of the ocean was soothing after the focus she’d seen in Jet’s eyes.

The deck was shifting under her feet far more than the roll of the sea could account for. She’d steeled herself to witness his departure. She’d been ready to deal with it and get on with her own life but the rules of this game were changing.

Or were they? This had something of the intensity of that moment by the fire the night before. If he was
choosing to stay because of her, that meant he was acknowledging what hung between them. And, again, he was sidestepping. Changing the subject. Making a joke about being on a cruise ship.

Now it was her turn. If she said the wrong thing, did she get to slide down some kind of emotional snake? Instinctively, she knew this wasn’t the time to get serious. She was being given a clear direction of what her move should be and that was to make some light comment along the same lines. About the failure of the last port of call to live up to the promise of the brochure perhaps? Or to wonder what the activities officer had in store for the passengers today? If she did that, would she find herself with a ladder to get to the next level of the game?

But, if this was a game, the stakes were too high. The implications of winning or losing would be with her for the rest of her life.

This was as huge as the volcano on Tokolamu.

And just as terrifying.

She hadn’t expected him to stay.

But how could he have left like that, with the last image of Becca being her hands clutching the railing of the ship and her choked sob as she struggled for composure?

As hard as it would be, somehow they had to talk or they might be left with more than Matt’s ghost haunting their lives.

He wasn’t going to promise anything he couldn’t deliver but, at the very least, he had to let Becca know that he would never forget her. That she had a friend for
life and if she was ever in any kind of trouble, he would move heaven and earth if he had to in order to help.

The prospect of parting on good terms had seemed entirely plausible in the early hours of this morning, when Jet had been sitting in the ship’s infirmary amongst quietly beeping monitors and patients who were all sleeping peacefully.

Standing here now, close enough to touch Becca, Jet realised he might have been kidding himself. Maybe he’d just been dreaming up an excuse to stay a little longer because he couldn’t face the notion of never seeing her again.

‘It’s just one night,’ he said, aiming to keep it casual. ‘We’ll be pretty busy sorting out the other Medevac transfers for the rest of today but … hey, I’ve been invited to eat at the captain’s table. Would have been rude to say no.’

He heard a tiny snort of amusement. They both knew that high-ranking officials in military service would not appreciate being called a captain.

‘Lucky you,’ she said.

‘The invitation apparently includes a partner.’

‘Oh …’

He wished she’d stop staring out to sea like that and would look at him so he might have some idea of what she was thinking. She’d folded her arms around herself as though she needed comfort.

He could provide that, if she’d let him. But she wasn’t the girl he remembered. She was grown up and she could look after herself. She might not want anything more from him. She might have
wanted
him to disappear along with that helicopter.

She didn’t look so grown up right now, though. Holding
herself like that made her look tiny and … alone. Even her voice was small when she spoke.

‘Got someone in mind?’

‘Yeah … you.’

Her head swivelled and her gaze flew up to meet his and she looked … scared.

Jet groaned inwardly as he reached out and took her into his arms. Her body felt stiff but she wasn’t trying to pull away. Jet held on, closing his eyes.

‘I didn’t want to leave just yet, Becca. Not before we’ve had a chance to talk. We might never have another opportunity and if that’s the case, we might regret it. I know I would, anyway.’

It took more than a heartbeat but he felt the tension in her body ease. Then he could feel the movement of her head on his chest. A subtle movement but definitely up and down. Agreement.

He pulled back far enough to smile at her. ‘So it’s a date?’

‘For dinner?’

‘More like after dinner, I think. When we can get some time to ourselves. Somewhere private.’

‘I’m … sharing a cabin.’

‘I’m not.’ Jet gave her an encouraging squeeze and then let go. ‘I think I’ve been given an officer’s suite. Lots of room.’ It seemed important not to mention the bed. Or even think about it. ‘It’s got armchairs, even.’

‘Lucky you.’ A tentative smile shaped Becca’s lips but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. ‘I’ll see you at dinner, then. Can’t promise I’ll be dressed appropriately, though.’

‘Can’t see anything wrong with how you look right now,’ Jet murmured.

But Becca was already halfway to the door leading off the deck. She didn’t hear him.

It should have been relaxing.

A day on the high seas with nothing to do but rest and eat. There were books available and satellite television and even a movie put on for the extra passengers, but Becca couldn’t concentrate on anything well enough to enjoy it.

Jet might have been absent physically, helping the ship’s surgeon give everyone from the island a check-up between helicopter transfers of the others who needed hospital care, but he might as well have been right by her side as far as her awareness of him was concerned. Holding her hand perhaps, so that she could think of nothing more than the extraordinary feeling of how connected they were.

Kissing her, even, because she knew that she would never experience lovemaking like his from anyone else. Ever.

When it came time for dinner, Becca felt ridiculous being seated with the commanding officers of the ship in their immaculate uniforms, while she was wearing track pants and a T-shirt. Her apology was charmingly dismissed.

‘Elegant clothing is a disguise that some people have no need of.’

The men waited until she sat down before taking their places at the table.

‘Besides,’ another added, ‘we like to dress our guests the same. That way we won’t mistake them for crew and put them to work.’

Becca smiled and nodded. And allowed her gaze to
rest on Jet, who was seated opposite her and wearing an identical outfit. They were a matching pair.

And it was true. Becca could imagine him sitting there in a tuxedo, looking breathtakingly elegant and gorgeous, but it wouldn’t change the way his body owned the space it was in. Or the way he held his head with that curious stillness that disguised how alert he was. It was pure Jet. So was that look in his eyes that told her they were more than a matching pair for clothing.

They were two sides of the same coin.

Desire warred with grief. They might never see each other again. She had to look away and try to focus on something else or she might do something incredibly embarrassing, like burst into tears.

It was a three-course dinner. The food and accompanying wine were delicious but Becca had no real appetite and she struggled to pretend she was enjoying her meal and not counting every second until she could be alone with Jet. With a supreme effort she did her best to seem just as engaged with the conversation going on around her.

By the time she excused herself and Jet followed her from the dining table, she was having difficulty remembering anything that had been discussed. Only two things had made enough of an impact to stay in her head. One was that the ship would reach dock at some point during the night so they would be able to disembark as soon as they woke. Transport had been arranged to take them to where they needed to go.

The other was that Jet needed to get back to his army base. He would probably be deployed on a new mission within forty-eight hours. Afghanistan was the most likely destination.

And, yes … he was looking forward to it.

So this was it.

An hour or two in his cabin to talk about things Becca had never wanted to talk about to anyone. And in the morning they would say goodbye and go their separate ways. Back to their own lives.

Jet could get killed in the next dangerous mission that would start within days, but even if he survived a dozen such missions it was unlikely they would ever spend time alone together again.

How could she say goodbye to this man?

How could she not?

By shipboard standards, Jet’s cabin was luxurious. A wider than normal single bed, a small table and two comfortable chairs beside a smaller door that must lead to an en suite bathroom. The brass edging of the porthole gleamed in soft light that came from a bedside lamp. Maybe the same person who had turned on the lamp had also turned the bed covers back so invitingly.

It was still a small room. Just a few steps from the door to the chairs. An even smaller distance from the chairs to the bed. Jet’s presence in this space with Becca seemed overpowering. Her legs refused to take her to a chair. Did she really want to be here?

Tilting her head, she found Jet looking down at her. There was a question in his eyes.

A plea?

She could see the same kind of turmoil she’d seen by the campfire two nights ago. The vulnerability that let her know that Jet had a patch of his soul that matched the one she worked so hard to hide. The lost and lonely part.

Yes. Of course she wanted to be here.

She wanted to reassure him. To let him know that, if he ever wanted to, it was safe to fall. As long as he was with her, because she’d keep him safe, no matter what it might take.

He wasn’t saying anything and the tension in this small space lurched upwards. Becca could actually feel the pull Jet was exerting on her. She could feel herself tilting ever so slightly. Leaning towards him.

She could see the way Jet’s Adam’s apple moved up and caught as he seemed to swallow with some difficulty.

‘So …’ His voice was hoarse but he didn’t try to clear his throat. ‘You want to talk?’

‘I want …’

You
, her body screamed. Or was it her heart? Somehow, her head stopped the word emerging from her mouth.

Maybe it escaped through her eyes.

That might explain why Jet’s pupils flared and swallowed his already dark-as-sin irises, making his eyes completely black. Why the atmosphere around them suddenly smouldered and crackled with suppressed fire. Was he trying to stop himself touching her?