Degrees of Wrong (31 page)

“Ha. Nicoli isn’t speaking to me. He doesn’t like me anymore.” That hurt to say out loud. I wasn’t sure if the pain in my stomach was from the admission, or still from my illness.

She huffed. “At this point, dear, I think it would be a fair statement to say you could have anything you wanted. He would melt like snow in the Maldives. All you would have to do is ask.”

I laughed, and the act hurt my abdominal muscles. “You are wicked. Please tell me you’re not speaking from experience. The poor admiral!”

“The poor admiral deserves every bit of it,” Nicoli drawled from the door. “And so do I.”

Dr. Folsom made a repugnant face that indicated to me that she had been busted, and badly. I giggled as she hastened out the door.

He strode in and sat on the bed. “Feeling better?”

“Immeasurably.”

“Good.”

He sat there for a long time, regarding me with that impassive expression of his. “I don’t exactly know where to begin,” he said finally.

I tried to sit up, and he was on his feet, helping to adjust the pillows behind me and tucking the covers underneath me. Satisfied that I was comfortable, he sat back down.

“Should you be here?” I asked.

“Do you want me to go?”

I should have said yes, but I shook my head. “It’s just that…it may look like…”

“Exactly what it is.” He grimaced.

“What is ‘it’, exactly?”

“‘It’ is the fact that I can’t stay away from you. Even if I tried. Even if I tried very hard.”

“Seemed to be doing a pretty good job to me,” I muttered.

“This is coming from a woman who has spent the last four days in a near coma. I’ve been sleeping in that chair over there.” He motioned to the only chair in the room. “It was uncomfortable, even for me.”

I laughed. I knew he could get comfortable anywhere, so his admission was outrageous.

“So,” I began awkwardly. “Which part of what I told you upset you the most? Which part made you forget that I was alive?” I hoped my voice didn’t quaver.

“First of all, there is no forgetting you, Elyse Morgan. I was acutely, painfully aware of you the whole time. Secondly, the part that most upset me was…all of it, I would have to say.” He raked his hand through his black hair. “What were you
thinking
?”

“About what, specifically? About not listening to you in the first place when you told me not to go? About my insistence that you stay out of the room during the examination? About talking to him when I got there, after you specifically told me not to? Or was it the part where I told him that I put air bubbles in his IV—?”

“All of it,” he reiterated. “Damn it, Elyse.”

“What happened?” I whispered. “Did he go to trial?” I hadn’t been filled in on any of the consequences of my actions. Either Dr. Folsom wasn’t aware of the outcome, or she just wouldn’t say. Nicoli hadn’t been speaking to me. The admiral too seemed to be avoiding me like a hornets’ nest.

I had really outdone myself this time.

“He’s still standing trial. In good health,” he added. “Lt. Weston was arrested for murder, and unless he starts pointing the finger at Petropoulos, he’ll be convicted of it. Ironically, he is being held at the very same prison he used to preside over.”

I could see him visibly hesitate.

“And?” I said.

“In addition to the outcome of his trial, the United Nations is formally charging Petropoulos with the murder of your parents and everyone who died as a result of attending your father’s lecture. They may ask you to testify. I would prefer that you didn’t.”

I fought back the nausea. And the tears.

He was still holding something back. I nodded to him to continue. It seemed I had missed out on much.

He didn’t try to hide his frustration. “We think there’s a mole on board. You said Petropoulos admitted to arranging the meeting with you. We went back through the communications records and couldn’t find anything. The only communication from the
Bellator
to the prison or vice versa was the incoming distress call and the corresponding response. But everything had aligned so conveniently for him that there is just no way he didn’t have inside assistance. We haven’t been able to find anything incriminating. Yet.”

“So, that would mean…”

“They’re still on board.” His jaw flexed again, the way it had in the transport pod after our visit to the prison.

I cringed. “I’ve more than tried your patience, Nicoli. I can see why you would want to stay away from me. I’m a walking invitation for trouble. And I’ve complicated your life by leaps and bounds.”

He shook his head. “That’s not why I stayed away, Elyse. Oh sure, that’s reason enough,” he teased, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. “But the fact is, I endangered your life. I should have seen that coming. You don’t know this man like I do. You don’t know what he’s capable of. I felt that maybe my judgment
had
been clouded…and the fact that he saw my attachment to…and his vendetta against my family…”

“But this wasn’t about you at all, Nicoli. It was about
me
. He wanted
me
.”

“He wanted you for a different reason at the time. But
now
he knows that I…how I feel about…”

“But he’s in custody, Nicoli. What does it matter what he saw?”

“He’s been in custody six times before, love. And history tends to repeat itself.”

I gasped, outraged.

“So,” he continued, taking my hand. “I thought I was protecting you by staying away. That maybe he wouldn’t go after you again if he thought I didn’t… But, since I’m
obviously
not capable of leaving you alone for hours at a time, I decided to form a new plan.”

“Which is?” I asked warily.

He shrugged. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

“So…you’re
not
going to be ignoring me anymore?” And could I get that in writing?

He shook his head. “I
should
, but I won’t. Can’t. So, here I am, asking you to dinner.”

My stomach both churned
and
fluttered with the thought of having dinner with him.

“Oh.” I clutched at the covers in that general area. “I don’t think that’s possible right now, Nicoli.”

He chuckled. “Not tonight, love. In two days, my brother will be porting close to where our position will be at that point. It will be at least an hour in the transport pod from the ship, though. I was hoping you would feel well enough to meet him.”

“You want me to meet your brother?” I squeaked.

“Yes and no,” he said dryly. “I’m nervous for you to meet him, because of his stupefying effect on women. I would hate to add to his medical file, love.” At this I giggled. “However,” he continued on, grinning at me, “he is still adamant about marrying this mystery woman of his, so I think that you, and his nose, should be safe.”

I laughed, further hurting my innards. “Ugh,” I groaned. When the pain passed, I said, “I’m sure I’ll be feeling better by then.” And even if I wasn’t, I felt sure I could give a convincing performance of pristine health.

Nicoli stood and gently placed my hand on the bed. “I’ll go now and let you get some rest. Well, some
more
rest.”

I did still feel a bit woozy.

When he reached the door, he turned. For a long moment, I thought he had changed his mind altogether.

“Don’t even
think
about wearing that red dress.”

I shook my head that I would not, biting my lip to keep from smiling.

As I lay back down, I laughed—I would wear the white one just like it.

I smirked as I inspected myself in the mirror. Nicoli would be furious. With that thought in mind, I slung the black bag containing my change of clothes over my shoulder and left my quarters, dressed to dazzle.

I paid scarce attention to my surroundings as I trotted down the hall and to the elevator. I had little fear of running into anyone as I made my way to the transport hall. Nicoli had conveniently ordered most of the officers and cadets to assemble on the other side of the ship for a surprise roll-call drill and trumped-up announcements.

The elevator released me into the hall, and I could already see Nicoli standing at the end of it waiting for me. And frowning.

Delighted, I tried not to skip as I came closer to him. He was wearing black slacks and an olive green, tightly fitted shirt which accentuated his muscles too well for me to expect a healthy pulse for the duration of his wearing it.

When I reached him he said, “I believe you have taken advantage of my manly ignorance, Dr. Morgan. When I addressed the subject of the red dress, you of course realized that I was speaking of it as a category in general, and not that garment specifically.”

Why yes, yes I had. “And what category is that, Captain Marek?”

“Breathtaking,” he answered irritably. I admitted that I just wanted to hear it again.

“Do you
own
a dress that takes at least a yard of material to make? I should have paid better attention when you were shopping.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s very difficult to see through eyes glazed over with boredom. By the way, where are we going?”

“Manzanillo.”

“Mexico?” I asked excitedly.

He scowled as he helped me into the transport pod.

We had only to port, and then we were literally at the restaurant. It was located on the small peninsula jutting out from the center of the city. We walked up the dock and met a hostess standing outside. She was a beautiful, black-haired woman with a thick native accent.

“Do you have reservations?” she asked, rolling the R.

“Emerson,” he answered. I glanced at him, but he shrugged.

She consulted her handheld device. “Ah. The other guest in your party has already arrived and been seated. Please follow me.”

We followed her upstairs to the open deck. White-clothed tables adorned the top-deck dining area, and the patrons chattered excitably with their dinner groups. My own excitement grew as I realized we would get to watch the sunset from here. A real one.

She ushered us to a table by the railing. A well-built blond man in a blue shirt and black slacks stood there with his back turned to us, peering down at the beach from the railing.

“I hope you’re not spitting,” Nicoli told him, his voice full of authority. “I thought you’d outgrown that.”

The man laughed and whirled around, grinning. And I gasped.

He did too. “You. It’s you!”

I covered my mouth with my hand. It was the blue-eyed soldier I had stitched up on the last day I saw my island. It was incredibly, undeniably, impossibly Blue Eyes.

We regarded each other with supreme shock. Nicoli snapped his head back and forth between us.

“You
know
each other?” he asked, incredulous.

Blue Eyes, er, Ryon nodded. “That’s her, Nicoli,” he said, wide-eyed. “That’s the girl I’m going to marry.”

Nicoli swore vehemently. He turned to me. “How do you know each other?”

Ryon interrupted, “That’s classified information, Nicoli.”

Nicoli rolled his eyes and kept his glare on me. I blurted out the events, hoping it made sense despite the way it ran together. “He was one of the soldiers sent to find me on my island. I had stumbled over him. He was injured. His leg. Artery nicked, with some muscle damage. Stitched him up. Morphine. Blue-eyed soldier.”

By the time I was finished, Nicoli was pinching the bridge of his nose and Ryon was grinning wide.

“Green-eyed doctor,” he said with irony. “That’s what I’ve been calling you.”

A gregarious server interrupted our already awkward reunion. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, smiling at no one in particular.

Nicoli clasped his hands in front of him. “I think a bottle of scotch would be entirely appropriate.”

I nodded. “Three glasses, please.”

After a few strong sips of the smooth, burning liquid, I was able to tell a more detailed version of how I had come to meet Nicoli’s younger brother. When I was finished, both men stared at me in silence. And both were frowning.

Ryon was the first to speak. “You really shouldn’t have headed toward the fighting, Elyse. You could have gotten yourself killed,” he scolded, his blue eyes piercing me with rebuke. Nicoli reproved me with the same look.

The two most attractive men on the planet were teaming up against me. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be a happy drunk or a mean one, but I took another sip before I answered.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to in that
tone
, Ryon Marek,” I snapped. “But unless you can provide me with some new, alternate definition for the word
doctor
, I would think it would be perfectly
clear
why I headed toward the gunfire. I would think that you, of all people, would be grateful for it.”

A mean one, then. I took another sip.

He stared at me in disbelief for a few seconds, and then grinned at Nicoli. “Oh. So, that’s what it feels like to be put in my place.”