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Fliss felt as though she were burning up inside, consumed by the need to say yes, but her brain told her no. If she’d fallen for him this hard after one night, then how far gone would she be after another fourteen nights? And what about the feeling of rejection, of loss at the end of it? Logically, she knew Ash couldn’t reject her if they had agreed the terms to start with. But man, she was going to have to keep reminding herself of that.
‘Two weeks?’ she whispered.
‘Two weeks,’ he confirmed.
Two weeks to slake this all-consuming hunger they had for each other? She doubted two lifetimes would even be enough. But deep down she knew she’d take two minutes if that was all that was on offer.
‘Fine.’ She nodded as he strode over to capture her face in his hands and drop a kiss onto her lips. ‘Two weeks it is.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘OKAY, SO FORGET the golden hour, gentlemen, this is the platinum ten minutes.’ Fliss cast her eyes around the bunch of primarily green-gilled young soldiers in front of her and wondered how many of them would be out on the front line within months.
This was a taster day before the main pre-mob training which would take place down the line but, to Fliss, every opportunity to teach these guys how to help save lives gave her a greater window when she was back with her MERT.
‘With battlefield injuries, statistics have shown that the majority of fatalities occur within the first ten minutes of the wounding, so every second counts. The MERT can’t get to you in that time, however fast you call it in. So it’s down to you and the unit medics on the ground at the time.’
Her skin prickled, telling her that Ash had entered the outdoor teaching area behind her. In the last ten days together she seemed to have developed a heightened awareness of his presence, and she was dreading what it would be like when the two weeks finally drew to an end. Far from slaking their desire, each passing day had only seemed to stoke it even higher.
She had no idea where they stood.
They’d never discussed a time frame after that first day, but the fact that Ash had found her a last-minute teaching spot on the course he was running—just so that they didn’t have to spend one of their precious days apart—only made her all the more confused.
All she could do was ride it out, enjoy it and accept the inevitable. And doing the best damned job she could on the course today should help to remind her of the career she loved, and ease her into life post-Ash as seamlessly as possible.
‘We’ve been seeing remarkable numbers of soldiers surviving when they might previously have died from their injuries and that’s in no small part down to you guys. Where there are penetrating wounds, whether from rounds, knives, shrapnel or injuries requiring multiple amputation, blood loss at the scene can mean the casualty is dead before we can get in that heli and get to you. So one of your priorities is learning to staunch severe bleeding and applying tourniquets correctly.’
She thought of Ash and the extent of his grenade scar, something unidentifiable tearing through her. If he hadn’t had good buddies fighting to save him before that MERT had arrived, she wouldn’t have even known he existed.
She would never have had these last two weeks. Never have known what alive could feel like.
The truth hit her hard.
She was going to tell him how she felt.
Tonight. She would lay it all out there. And if he rejected her, then so what? She stomped down the ugly fear which threatened to weaken her resolve. At least she would know. It couldn’t be any worse than wondering what might have happened if she’d only had the courage to try.
‘Right, so you, come over here and be my casualty and you, bring your kit up; you’re about to learn how to save your buddy’s life.’
* * *
Ash barely noticed the return drive home, slipping easily through the gears as they sped down the quiet streets, the late night traffic at a minimum.
Even the lights seemed to be in his favour, turning green as he approached as though cheering him on.
He had to tell her.
In three days, their time together would be over. At least, their self-imposed two-week time limit would be up. But Ash already knew he didn’t want to give Fliss up, couldn’t give her up. She felt the same way, he knew it. From the way she looked at him, talked with him, making the most mundane things sound compelling when they were uttered by her lips, to the way she clung to him, crying out his name as she gave herself up to him so completely when they made love.
He had no idea how or when she’d peeled away every last piece of his defences, he just knew that it had started from the minute she’d walked into that tent at Razorwire, all lithe body, long legs and flashing eyes. And it hadn’t stopped since.
The time limit had only served to highlight to Ash how precious time was. He needed Fliss in his arms, his bed, his life, for as long as they both drew breath.
And tonight he realised he had to tell her that. He didn’t want to wait any longer for them to begin building a different future. Together.
‘Whose car is that?’ He glowered as they finally rounded the corner to her street and he saw the unfamiliar vehicle in the drive.
His first guess would have been her uncle, but it was far too beaten-up and pranged to be the General’s car.
