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“My team’s here,” he replied.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, putting her instruments back on the tray. “Team?” she repeated, glancing at his wound again. The only personnel in the Navy that referred to their comrades as a ‘team’ were SEALs and she caught on quickly. “Are you a SEAL?”

He lay his head down on his arm wearily. “Could be.”

She moved over to her tray and thoughtfully moved to the sink, dumping everything into it. “Commander Wade Wolfe,” she mumbled to herself, then turned around. “You are not the guy who just led that raid into Columbia, are you? The one they call the Fox?”

“The Wolf,” he corrected her indifferently. Now that she figured out who he was, she was probably going to march right out without another word and he resigned himself to that fact.

But she didn’t leave; instead, she stood over by the sink and grinned knowingly. “I shouldn’t have asked you that. Are you going to kill me now because I know too much?”

He tilted his head back to look at her. “No, but I might spank you for being a smart ass.”

She laughed and his heart did that strange thumping thing again. He would have attributed it to the Demerol except her laughter made him feel like smiling, too. Not the usual drug reaction.

“Then you must be why half of the Pentagon is out in the waiting room,” she said, mildly impressed. “Everybody wants to know firsthand what happened, huh?”

He shrugged, not really committing one way or the other. She went back over to him and pushed him onto his back, noticing how wonderfully firm and taut he was under her hands. She wanted to run her fingers all over his naked chest, but she settled for dressing the wound instead. His eyes were closed as she worked and she was sure he had fallen asleep, disappointed because the conversation was over.

The Wolf. In military circles, the guy was famous, or infamous, if you were the enemy. Rumor had it that he was so good, foreign governments tried to hire him out. Gazing down at the man, Jeremy could only see that he was incredibly handsome and built like a god. And strangely…familiar, in a dreamy sort of way, although she knew she had never met him. She would have remembered a face like that. She could hardly wait to tell her father who she had worked on. And a bullet wound, yet.

Wade’s eyes were closed but not because he was asleep. He was very much awake, feeling her expert hands touch his thigh, her soft fingers on his skin and it was the most amazing, erotic experience he’d ever had and prayed she didn’t notice. Fortunately, his t-shirt was torn and baggy, and hung over his crotch, or he was sure she would slap him. He felt like a pervert with his reaction to her, but in his heart he knew perversion was far from the truth. This woman, somehow, touched him. Literally, of course, but in another, more personal way as well.

She finished but was still looking down at him, studying his face. His breathing had become deep and regular and she knew it was the painkiller kicking in. She sighed; God, he was beautiful.

She broke away from his face and started to step away from the gurney when his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her arm. She yelped, startled, and his eyes slowly opened to look at her.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” his voice was a whisper. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, feeling his warm hand on her arm like a scalding iron. “Just try not to get shot anymore, okay? Next time it could be worse.”

“It has been worse, but I’ll try. For you, I will try.”

She smiled and he returned it. “Can you let go of me so that I can throw this stuff away?” She indicated the bloody gauze in her hands.

“If I let you go, will you come back?”

“I won’t leave you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

He lifted his eyebrow, feigning reluctance, but his hand dropped back onto the gurney and as she moved to the trash can, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing over to the doorway, she could see several men crowded in it. One man, a very handsome blond, looked at her.

“Can we come in?” he asked, his voice deep and pleasant.

“Sure,” she said, laying the chart down. “He’s doped up, but he’s ready to go as soon as I get his prescription.”

The man smiled openly at her and moved into the room, followed by the rest of the group. She counted seven in all. At the sound of their voices, Wade’s eyes flew open.

“Boys,” he greeted with an exaggerated drawl.

The blond looked down at him critically. “You faker. Now get up and walk the hell out of here.”

“Leave me alone,” Wade mumbled; the Demerol was hitting him hard. “I am staying here, all night, with her.” He pointed limply to Jeremy.

They all looked at her and she was suddenly extremely self-conscious. Feeling her face grow hot, she picked up the chart and walked around to the other side of the gurney, opposite his team.