Her brow wrinkled. “Well, there’s Charlotte and a few other friends from college and university but we’re scattered around the world, so they’re online relationships now even if they didn’t start that way. And I have a few old school and work friends but I’ve moved around a lot, all my life, so they’ve all turned into social-media friendships, too.” The screen went black as the screen saver clicked in, plunging them into darkness. “This must sound very strange to you. A guy like you must have a lot of friends—real friends.”
“I wish I was the guy you think I am. You met all my friends last year.”
“The soldiers in your team?” She counted on her fingers. “Flynn. Your capit—capita—?”
“Capitaine.Angelito.Formercapitaine.He’s retired. Flynn’s supposed to be the newcapitainebut he’s taken unpaid leave to be with Tess. And a couple of others from my commando team.”
“Awo, the guy from Texas, and... Okoye? Was that his name—the man from Nigeria?”
Rain tapped on the roof. Jamie closed the window. “Aye. And Thor, from... Come to think of it, I have no idea where he’s from. Norway or Finland or somewhere. He doesn’t talk about it. He doesn’t really talk at all.”
“Yet he’s one of your closest friends... So that’s—what?—five? Plus Tess.”
“I don’t think I can claim Tess just yet. I hardly know her. But there is Angelito’s girlfriend. I guess if we’re tallying up I could claim her. I don’t think she has many friends either, so...”
“Holly.”
“Aye. She lives on Corsica with him and his son.”
“A son? I wouldn’t have picked him for a family man. He seemed kind of...fierce.”
“They’ve opened a sailing school for tourists,” he said, unable to keep the incredulity from his tone. Angelito was the last guy to settle down into such a normal existence. “Believe me, he’s changed a lot in the last couple of years, since Holly...appeared.”
“Appeared?You make it sound like she was conjured.”
“The story of how they met...it’s a long one. I’ll tell you someday—what I know of it.”
She frowned briefly at hissomeday. Yeah, like they had a future where they would sit around and share long stories over red wine. And when they were done talking she’d plant herself astride his lap, like in the car, and nibble his lower lip, and he’d grip her waist and slide her in and—
“So,” she said, “five friends.”
He inhaled. “Pathetic, yeah?”
“It’s about three more than me—and Iamchoosing to count Tess. You must have friends here, in the UK. Childhood, med school, the hospital...?”
“You’ve met some of my former...acquaintances, so I think you know the answer to that.”
She looked up at him, her eyes jet-black. In the course of their conversation, he’d managed to scoot across so he was leaning over her, the gearstick jamming into his thigh. “I don’t get it. You’re so...easy to like.”
And so are you. He should shift back into his seat, reclaim a few inches of distance. He didn’t have the self-control, which was his basic lifelong problem. He should show her some respect by telling her enough of the truth to warn her off. “I’ve done some things I regret. I’ve hurt people.”
“Is that what you’re running from?”
“I told you, I’m not runningfromanything.” It was true enough, of this moment. Right now he didn’t feel like going anywhere—running, walking or...tap-dancing.
“You just like the adrenaline.” Her gaze dropped to his lips.
“Aye.” He sounded like he’d smoked a carton of cigarettes. He cleared his throat.
“And being an emergency doctor in a big London hospital was...boring.”
“Yeah.”
Oh man, the fresh smell of her hair. The curve of her lips. Her vulnerability. Her brain. He had it bad for this woman. He let his right hand drift over almost of its own volition—almost—to find hers, and threaded their fingers together. She squeezed. He leaned down, she stretched up and their lips met, feather-soft at first, then harder, desperate, like they both knew they were stealing the moment. He released her hand and pushed his fingers into her curls, cupping her jaw. Sweet yet simmering with promise and intent. How was this happening? Did he have so little restraint that he could go straight from a feeble attempt to talk her out of her undeserved respect for him, to this?
He broke the kiss, panting, and forced himself to shuffle back to his seat. “It’s not just what I’ve done,” he said, abruptly, “but what I am.”
“Which is?” she whispered, looking resolutely at her lap.
