Page 19 of Under Her Command

Victoria ignored that. “You need rest.”

“Oh, come on,” Isabel groaned. “You patch me up just to put me on a time-out?”

“You were shot,” Victoria pointed out. “You need sleep.”

Isabel rolled her shoulder. “Nah. I’ll be fine.”

Victoria sighed, standing. “Then at least eat something.”

Isabel’s lips curled, her expression shifting as if she’d just been handed an opportunity. Victoria immediately regretted saying anything.

“You know, Captain,” Isabel drawled, leaning back in her chair, “since you’re so worried about my wellbeing, maybe you should supervise my recovery.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes. “What are you getting at, Torres?”

“Dinner.” Isabel tilted her head. “Lavender’s. It’s not far, the food’s good, and you can make sure I don’t pass out at the table.” She smirked. “Veryresponsibleof you.”

Victoria hesitated. “That’s not necessary.”

Isabel raised a brow. “So you’d rather Idon’teat?”

Victoria pinched the bridge of her nose.Why was Torres like this?

Isabel grinned, standing. “Come on, Langley. It’s just dinner. You and me, no precinct, no case talk—just two people eating food. Surely even you take breaks.”

Victoria’s lips pressed into a thin line. This was a mistake. Aterriblemistake. And yet she heard herself saying, “Fine.”

Isabel blinked, then grinned like she’d just won something. “Damn. Wasn’t expecting that to work.”

Victoria grabbed her blazer, slipping it on with sharp, efficient movements. “Let’s get this over with.”

Isabel chuckled, following her out. “Oh,Captain.You’re gonna have fun. Ipromise.”

Victoria hadseriousdoubts about that.

4

ISABEL

Isabel’s mind replayed the way Victoria had stitched her up. The sting of antiseptic hit first, sharp and cold against Isabel’s skin. She hissed through her teeth, fingers tightening on the edge of Victoria’s desk, but the burn wasn’t nearly as distracting as the hands applying it.

Victoria Langley’s hands were soft.

That was the first thing Isabel had noticed. Precise, careful, the kind of touch that spoke of practiced skill—not just muscle memory, but intention. It didn’t fit the woman she’d been sparring with since her first day at the precinct.

Victoria snapped orders like whip cracks, moved through the world with a rigid, no-nonsense efficiency. Everything about her screamedcontrol.

But her hands?

Her hands were steady in a way that felt…personal. The tips of her fingers had brushed against Isabel’s bare skin as she worked, featherlight and deliberate, like she was trying not to cause more pain than necessary.

Isabel had hated how much she liked it. Or maybe she didn’t hate it at all.

She glanced up, watching Victoria’s face—impassive, focused, jaw tight. Her blonde hair was pulled back in that perfect no-nonsense bun, not a strand out of place. The soft glow from the desk lamp caught the faint silver threading through her temples, a quiet reminder that Victoria was older.Wiser.

Dangerous.

The attraction had been there from day one. That was easy. Shallow. A knee-jerk reaction to competence wrapped in crisp suits and cold authority.