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C on corrected Sophia’s grip on the Beretta slightly, then had to make himself take a long step back and resist touching her for too long. His body language was going to give him away to even a casual observer if he didn’t watch it. “Again.”

She nodded. Sighted down the weapon, took in a deep breath, let it out, and fired. Once, twice, three times.

Instead of putting his hands on her to show his approval, Con brought the target toward them. All three shots and the three before them had hit the human-shaped target somewhere. Not perfect, but plenty good enough to kill. If the bad guy was ten yards away or less. Her proficiency at hitting the target dropped to seventy percent at twenty-five yards, and rapidly lower outside of that.

Practice would improve her confidence and aim.

“That’s it for today,” he said, finally allowing himself to touch her on the shoulder and angle his head toward the rest of the world.

“Okay!” Sophia smiled and continued yelling, “I did good, right?”

Con reached out and took her ear protection off. “Not bad,” he told her at a normal volume. “You rate a not-bad, which means you get to practice every day.”

“Oh.” Her smile dimmed a little. “Not a surprise. My depth perception isn’t great.”

“Your depth perception, your spatial orientation... Have you considered glasses?” They left the range and headed across the base toward the lab.

“My vision is twenty-twenty. I don’t need glasses, I just don’t have ten-twenty vision. I’m not a pilot or a sniper, Con. I’m a doctor and when I need to look at little things I use a microscope.”

“Am I catching some attitude from my student?”

“No, I’m simply explaining why my eyesight is normal and not superhero abnormal.”

He shook his head and exaggerated his sigh. “Yep. I’m getting attitude.”

He liked it. Too much.

“Conman.” A shout from behind them caught Con’s attention.

Two men were walking toward them. Both in Army Special Forces uniforms. “Hey, if it isn’t the cavalry.” Con turned to Sophia. “Here’s your backup.”

“Our backup,” she said, frowning at him.

“Right, sure.” Con held his hand out to Smoke, who shook it once. River did the same. “You two wasted no time in getting here. What did they do, get you onto a transport as soon as Colonel Maximillian made the request?”

“Yeah,” said River. His voice was oddly high-pitched for a grown man. He had a slight build, about five ten and maybe one seventy-five, but he was all muscle and bone, with not an ounce of fat on him. He was also one deadly son of a bitch. When River and Smoke did advance recon, no one ever knew they were there. If they did, they were dead.

Smoke, on the other hand, was a big, broad-boned man, who stood over six feet and had a face that never seemed to show any emotion at all. He was Navajo, but had pale blue eyes. He also never talked unless he had to.

“Is this Dr. Perry?” River asked.

“Yes, I am.” She stepped forward to shake his hand, then nodded at Smoke. “It’s good to see you, Smoke.”

“Who’s trying to kill you, Ghost?” Smoke asked.

Got to like a man who got straight to the point.

“Come on,” Con said. “Let’s get you two settled and we’ll fill you in on all the fun we’ve been having.”

“How are you doing, Con?” River asked as they continued on to the lab. “Back to full strength?”

“Yeah. I have to keep physically fit, but that’s nothing new.”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with his reflexes or his fighting skills,” Sophia added.

The silence following that was a little uncomfortable.

Both men stared at him.

“Who did you kill?” Smoke asked.

“No one,” Sophia said before Con could. “Why would you assume he killed someone?” She waved away any answer Smoke might have given, though he didn’t look like he was going to anyway. “He broke one guy’s collarbone and the other guy’s arm.” She sucked in a breath. “Then I broke the guy’s arm again.” She stopped and said in a whisper, “It took the orthopedic surgeon several hours to get it all put back together.”

Con had to rein in his irritation and their chatter in a public place. “Come on, you bunch of old ladies, let’s get inside and somewhere we can have a real conversation.”

“Why are you so grumpy?” Sophia asked, frowning at him.

“I don’t know, maybe because last night was a little busy?”

“Well, you would have gotten a better sleep on that plank you call a bed if you had put me in my cot.” She started walking away. “You’d have had room to turn over at least.”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Smoke punched Con on the shoulder. “You slept with her?”

“ Slept , slept. For fuck’s sake, her safety is my responsibility and she fell asleep on my bed when I was having a shower. I decided to let her sleep.” He shrugged. “She’s a good kid.” Liar, liar. “A little weird sometimes, but in an interesting way.”

“You realize that’s how most people talk about us,” River said. “Until they find out we’re Special Forces, then they figure we’re weird ’cause we’re trained to notice shit most people wouldn’t see with a magnifying glass.”

“No,” Smoke intoned. “Because we’re trained to kill.”

“I’ve got to go with Smoke on that one,” Con said as they caught up with Sophia at the first checkpoint. He was going to have to really watch how he acted around her, so Smoke and River didn’t catch on to the fact that he’d already crossed the sexual line with her.

Having the other two guys around to watch out for her was a relief, but it also made him tense, which surprised the fuck out of him.

For months all he could think about was getting back on active duty and into a place where he might be able to kick some ass. Permanently. Today, he’d woken up and all those plans had taken second place inside his head behind protecting Sophia.

Having Smoke and River around would help him with that, but prevent him from following through on his goal to get revenge.

He’d just screwed himself royally.

Con got them checked in with Eugene and introduced River to Max while Sophia went to her office. Then he took the two men there. She was waiting for them.

“I have a job for you guys,” she said far too happily.

Smoke sighed loudly.

“Are we going to like this job?” Con asked.

Sophia thought about that for a second. “Do you like tents?”

Con looked at Smoke, who shrugged.

“Tents are okay,” River said.

“Good, because if I get called out to investigate an outbreak, which Max is certain of happening, we all have to be extra-prepared—”

“You have a tent you want us to construct?” Con interrupted. He didn’t need to know the whys and wherefores, he just needed orders.

No, what he really needed was space and time to get his shit together.

“Yeah, the level three tent.” She pointed at the three large duffel bags along the wall.

“Where can we build this tent?”

She deflated fast. “Oh. I don’t know.”

“Do you want it kept a secret?”

“Sort of.”

“Okay, what are the dimensions of the tent?”

She winced. “Um, it’s not really that simple.”

Con was rapidly running out of patience. The presence of the other two men was making him edgy. He should be happy to have them as a buffer between Sophia and himself. Instead he was irritated and resentful. “Does Eugene have the specs on this tent?”

“Yes.”

“How about we figure out where to construct it and you do your thing here?” There, that ought to get everyone doing something productive, and him away from temptation.

She stood and stared at him for a moment, all her earlier enthusiasm gone. “Sure. See you.”

As she turned her back on them and went back to her microscope, he wanted to take her by the shoulders, turn her around and kiss her until she was demanding another orgasm from him.

That he shouldn’t want it made him that much angrier.

***

S ophia stared at the closed door, barely keeping her anger from boiling over. Con had dismissed her, like she wasn’t of any use or interest. Like she was a problem that needed fixing.

“I’m going to fix his wagon,” she grumbled as she grabbed a new slide and put it on the stage of her microscope. She was ridiculously behind in checking blood smears for any unusual morphology.

Morphology of blood cells was an early indicator of all kinds of health problems. Infections, both bacterial and viral, cancer, and immune responses were only a few.

It was interesting work, but her thoughts kept going in circles, always starting and ending with Con.

She couldn’t get the intense, deadly expression of his face when he’d fought her two kidnappers out of her mind. Then there was the expression of satisfaction he wore after their sexual encounter. The concern when he tried to explain human nature to her. His laughter after surprising him.

Why was he so upset today?

She couldn’t remember doing or saying anything too awkward. She’d worked hard not to seem like a girlfriend.

She sighed.

Throwing him out of her head wasn’t working.

She examined a dozen of slides then grabbed the handful of Complete Blood Count reports one of the techs dropped off. The one on the top was flagged with a red sticker.

The name on the report was her own. She looked at the platelet count. Low. Really low.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This was the second test with a much too low platelet count. One more like this and she was done. Sent home for medical treatment. Off the team.

She’d taken medication that should have raised her cell count, but it hadn’t done the job. Her bone marrow wasn’t responding. If she was going to stay on the job, be of any help at all to Max and the team, she was going to have to up her dosage or try another medication. Or both. Short term, a platelet transfusion would help, but transfused platelets only lasted three to four days. Then she’d be right back where she started.

Her bruises were going to get worse. If she started bleeding spontaneously, Max would send her home immediately.

She left her office and went to Eugene. “I need to go to the Dispensary and don’t want to piss off my babysitter. Would you go with me?”

“Sure,” he said. “Just let me tell the boss.”

Eugene called Max, got the go-ahead, and they left.

The Dispensary wasn’t far, just two buildings over, and the pharmacist didn’t even blink when Sophia handed him a new script for the medication she took to keep her ITP in check.

She and Eugene returned to the lab without talking. Eugene seemed intent on watching for threats and she let him. Right now, talking wasn’t high on her list of things to do.

As soon as she got into her office, she took another dose of her medication, then attempted to go back to work.

Her brain wouldn’t let her.

Ten years. She’d had ten years since she’d gone into remission, worked so hard, become a doctor, all with the hope of making a difference in people’s lives, only to get sick again.

She wanted to make a difference. Wanted to help people. She’d worked so hard, yet her body was betraying her again. It didn’t matter how tired she got, she wasn’t going to give up her dream until it was done.

A sob caught her unawares and she slapped a hand over her mouth. No. If someone heard her crying, they’d investigate. She breathed deep, through her nose and out through her mouth.

She had time yet.

Time before she had to tell Max.

Time to make a difference. She’d figure out a way to contribute. She would.

Connor . What was she going to do about him? He was going to notice if she started showing more physical symptoms. He noticed everything.

She’d told him about her low platelets. Maybe she could blame them for the bruising and nosebleeds that might occur.

She nodded to herself, wiped her face and was cleaning the morning’s work away when her door opened.

Con, Smoke, and River walked in.

“Hi, Doctor,” Con said. “Miss us?”