“You’re impossible. If you’re not too tired, we’ll just take our time getting back.”
“That sounds nice.”
“After that, we’ll start getting you packed.”
His head shot up, a stupefied look on his face. He looks so innocent, she thought as their eyes met. “You are being transferred to Ottawa in two days. Do you think you can stay out of trouble for that long?”
He toyed with the edge of the tablecloth. “I’ve been pretty bad, eh?”
“You’ve got the top ten spots sewn-up on the most hated list.”
They strolled down the cobblestone sidewalk and passed several small shops as they approached the hospital. James stopped and pulled her into a small flower store just outside the hospital grounds. “Wait here.” He walked to the back counter and returned minutes later. “Thank you for today.”
Josie took the single white rose and slowly inhaled the sweet fragrance. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He chuckled. “Women. First us men get in trouble because we don’t send flowers, and when we do, you tell us we didn’t have to.”
She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Their eyes met. Danger flags flew in every direction, but for this one moment, he put them aside. “I think,” he said slowly, still looking into her eyes, “we better get back. It’s been a long day and I’m a bit tired.”
A change came over her in that second, and the brightness and wonderment in her eyes dimmed. “Sure.” She took his arm and carefully led him back to the hospital. The small talk continued, but her voice was flat compared to only a few minutes ago.
As they walked into the main lobby and the elevator opened, he stopped her. “I really did have a great time, but you know I’m married.”
She sighed. “Happily, too, I bet.”
“Very.”
“Well, sir, nobody said I couldn’t have my little fantasies, did they?” He smiled and followed her into the elevator. “Not even a quickie?”
He laughed at the grin on her face and immediately winced. “Damn it, girl. Keep that up and we won’t need the Americans to kill me. Friends?”
“Don’t really have a choice, do I? I’m sure we can discuss it further on the plane.”
“Huh?”
She stepped out as the doors opened. “I’m sorry. Didn’t I tell you?” she asked innocently. “My posting is over. We’re traveling together as far as Ottawa.” She turned and walked away as the doors slid shut, leaving James inside staring blankly at the metal doors.
Chapter 7
Ship’s Office
Canadian Forces Base Esquimalt
23 December, 0758 Hours
Leeanne walked into the office, floating, almost oblivious to the task awaiting her this sunny winter morning. As distasteful as today was going to be, she couldn’t stop reliving the tenderness of the previous night. The headaches and mood swings were gone, or at least gone for now, and she wondered if the sex had something to do with it.
James had been transferred from Ottawa to the base hospital in Esquimalt three days ago and after passing all the medical tests they could throw at him, he was released that afternoon. After an early dinner with her father, they left and spent the rest of the night at home, holding each other and carefully making love.
Although they had only been apart four months, it was as if they had fallen in love for the first time. She smiled as she thought of him slowly exploring her body, enjoying the newness of the feelings they had once innocently thought could never be taken away.
“If you keep smiling like that,” Petty Officer Gratton called across the office, “people are going to think you’re up to something.”
Leeanne stopped and turned around, the smile bigger, if possible, than before. “Silvia,” she said, and winked, “after last night, I’m too tired to care.”
Gratton laughed, feigning shock. “Why, Mrs. Morgan, I didn’t know you were that type.”
Leeanne stuck her tongue out at her, walked to her desk, and tried to focus on the job at hand. She looked at the picture of James one more time. Finally, after working through most of the morning’s mail, she pushed away from the desk. She rubbed her eyes and blinked several times as she turned to look out the window. It was a quiet start to the day, and other than the soft, rhythmic tick of the wall clock, the only sounds were those of the fax machine spitting out more paper.
The temperature hovered a few degrees above freezing, and what little snow was on the ground made way for the ground to peek through. It wasn’t yet warm enough for the blossoms to come out, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before the sweet fragrance of flowers and the music of playful birds filled the air.
Leeanne turned back to the clutter atop her desk and her hand came to rest on a small black notebook. Any thoughts of an early spring faded as she thought of what she was about to take on. “Enough,” she said softly.
A shadow appeared on the door, and Lieutenant-Commander Pétin stormed in, slamming the door behind him. Startled at his sudden appearance, Leeanne gripped the edge of her desk and stared coldly into his eyes. She wasn’t going to back down and wasn’t going to give an inch in what was surely going to become a very loud and very ugly argument.
“What the hell is this shit?” he snapped, throwing several papers in her direction. Leeanne, fighting a rage within her, casually reached down and picked up the forms, deliberately arranging them neatly before looking at them.
“What do you mean, Commander?” she asked after almost a full minute.
“The staff work sucks. I wouldn’t expect this meager caliber of work from an Officer-Cadet.” He turned to walk out.
“Just a minute.” Leeanne walked around the desk, stopping dangerously close to Pétin. He turned back to her, his hand still on the doorknob. “The next time you feel the need to berate the rest of us for a mistake that has been made, I suggest you make sure it isn’t one of your own.”
“Are you saying you are not responsible for the garbage in those letters?”
“That is correct.”
“Well then. Why don’t we just find out who is.” He grabbed her left wrist as he pulled the door open and walked out dragging her with him. She winced from the pressure and made the only decision she could.
Leeanne planted her left foot and pulled back, partially spinning Pétin around. As she balled her fist and swung her arm forward, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. Her fist smashed into Pétin’s throat, driving him backwards.
James, eyes blazing, reached out and grabbed Pétin’s wrist just as she hit him. The force of her punch and the twisting motion James used to free her spun Pétin around and onto the ground. His head met violently with the carpeted floor. James pounced on the dazed man and his knee slammed into Pétin’s chest, pinning him to the ground.
He raised his left arm and with one massive, irreversible effort, punched Pétin in the face. The sickening sound of teeth and bones snapping briefly filled the office. “Never again,” James said.
A booming voice filled the room as he brought his arm up for another blow. “Stop!”
James’s arm froze in midair. He wanted to beat this man to within an inch of his life, but years of training overrode that desire.
“What is the meaning of this?”
James turned