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He was only grateful that army protocol gave him some semblance of structure that he might otherwise have felt was lacking.
‘Major.’
‘Colonel.’ She thrust out her hand to take his with no acknowledgement in her expression.
Yet there was no doubting the spark that arced between them as their hands made contact, the hitch in her breath as it grew shallow, the way his chest pounded. Things that only the two of them would notice, but which proved the attraction from that night hadn’t dimmed in any way.
If anything, it seemed to have increased.
He had to act. Before she did something stupid like pretend they’d never met. They might not be about to flaunt the exact circumstances of their encounter—that wasn’t anyone else’s business but their own—but neither did it mean it was anything they should need to hide.
Ignoring the voice in his head challenging why he really didn’t like the idea of going along with it—the inexplicable sense of possession—Fitz smothered his irrational fury and dipped his head.
‘We’ve already met. Once. Isn’t that right, Major?’
She managed a murmur of agreement but he had already turned back to his counterpart. As though that would somehow ground him, as though the more professional he could keep it, the less he could pretend he was affected by her. Until he’d managed to control his frustration.
‘Major Howes informs me there’s already been a development. An aquifer that wasn’t previously identified?’
‘That’s right,’ Colonel Duggan agreed. ‘Directly beneath the intended location for the medical gas supply system.’
‘But it shouldn’t be too much of an issue.’ Fitz frowned. ‘We can bridge over it or close it in.’
The medical colonel held a hand up with a smile.
‘Let me stop you there, Fitz. Major Caplin here has experience in hospital construction so it’s better if she runs you through her concerns. My expertise is as a vascular surgeon and I’m mainly based at the field hospital back in Razorwire, so Major Caplin essentially has administrative and operational command of this hospital. Of course, she keeps me updated in her daily sit-rep so I’m always happy to discuss it with you, but it might be easier to speak to the major in the first instance.’
Just what he didn’t need.
‘Not a problem, Phil.’
‘Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a teaching operation scheduled in about half an hour. I’ll send someone to let you know when I’m out and we can go through anything.’
‘Appreciate it,’ Fitz confirmed, as the man checked with Elle if she needed anything else.
He couldn’t blame the man, it was exactly what he would have done. In fact, hadn’t he left his second-in-command liaising with brigade back at Razorwire in his absence? Furthermore, Carl was right, Colonel Duggan looked like he would be good to work with. The man was secure enough to acknowledge when it was advantageous to hand off to his more experienced major, but still remain directly responsible.
If only that major wasn’t Major Caplin, wasn’t Elle. Not that he didn’t respect her or admire her—far from it. But he couldn’t imagine working with someone whose laugh still jingled in his head and whose body he could taste on his tongue if he closed his eyes.
‘Nice to meet you, Colonel,’ Colonel Duggan signed off cheerily, and Fitz forced himself back to reality with a pleasant smile.
‘Likewise.’
With the medical CO gone, that left him and Carl. And Elle. With Carl gazing at her with respect and a hint of lust, which only an old friend like Fitz himself would have recognised.
Something shot through him. Something which—if he hadn’t known better—he might have mistaken for a touch of jealousy and...possession?
But he did know better.
He knew because he’d sworn, after Janine, that he’d never allow himself to blur the lines between personal and professional again. And now that Elle was out here, with him, in this environment, he had to stop remembering that night.
He liked things to be distinct, clear, compartmentalised. It avoided messiness.
He didn’t date army colleagues. Oh, there was no rule against him and Elle getting together that night, but it was a line he didn’t like to cross in his own mind. Just as he didn’t do long-term relationships.
He wasn’t built for them. He was too selfish. Too thoughtless. Too damaged.
The kind of man who’d been too busy celebrating his eighteenth with his mates to take the time out to listen to his voicemail. For the sake of thirty seconds, he’d have heard his mother’s desperate, frightened message. Their deaths were on his hands.
