Heat of the Moment Read Online Free Page A

up, yet he hadn’t talked to his old man. The nurses had told him that his father had kept a near constant vigil at his bedside for the first two weeks that he’d been in the hospital, when Shane had lain in a drug-induced coma. But once he’d turned the corner to recovery, his father had returned to his home in Chatham. He’d left messages on Shane’s cell phone, but Shane hadn’t returned any of his calls. He told himself it was because his father was a busy man and he hadn’t wanted to worry him, but he knew that was a lie.
    He hadn’t wanted to see him.
    James Rafferty looked older than Shane remembered. His dark hair was liberally streaked with gray and his strong face was lined with deep seams. His expression was wary as he approached Shane’s bed, as if he wasn’t sure he’d be welcome.
    “Hello, son.”
    His father’s dark eyes swept once over Shane’s body, his gaze touching briefly on the fading cuts and bruises that marred Shane’s face, neck, and arms, before lingering on the cast that enveloped his left leg from the knee down to his toes. His father’s throat worked convulsively, but when he met Shane’s eyes, he schooled his expression.
    “How you feeling, boy?”
    Like shit, he wanted to respond. It had been nearly four weeks since the incident, and yet Shane’s entire body still ached, and his skin felt as if it had been sandblasted. His newly healed wounds felt pinched and tight. He had a bitch of a headache, and if he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he’d taken a direct hit from a rocket launched missile. But according to reports, it had been a hand grenade, and he’d been lucky—he’d been on the outer edge of the impact radius and might have sustained more serious injuries, but the bullet that had taken him out at the knees had also saved his life. If he hadn’t already been on the ground, he likely would have been killed.
    So how was he doing? He shrugged. “I’m okay.”
    The doctors had stitched him up and repaired his fractured leg and told him not to worry, he’d make a full recovery. But what they hadn’t warned him about were the nightmares that dragged him out of sleep each night, his heart racing and his body coated in sweat. They were always the same; he was sprinting through the battle to wards Holly. He could see her standing there, staring at him in horror through the smoke and debris, and he was driven by a desperate need to reach her. But he never made it. Each time, he’d watch her die before he could save her. Each time, her death was an agony that tore him apart. Then he’d wake up and realize he’d only been dreaming, but it would be long minutes before his heart rate slowed and his breathing returned to normal. He’d lie in bed and remind himself that Holly was alive, until the words became his mantra. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.
    He didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to her. He’d spent the better part of the last ten years fighting his powerful attraction to her and telling himself that they had no future together, when the truth was he couldn’t envision a future—any future—without her in it. He might not be the right guy for her, but he wouldn’t hesitate to lay down his life to save hers. She was the reason he’d joined the military in the first place. One, he’d needed to get out of Chatham and away from Holly before he did something completely stupid, like sleep with her. Two, she came from a military family and he knew how much she respected service men and women. Part of him had dared to hope that if he joined the military and if he worked hard to rise through the ranks and if he could distinguish himself somehow, then maybe—just maybe—he could be worthy of her.
    But then the unthinkable had happened; Holly had also joined the military and had somehow managed to end up assigned to the same base as himself. He wasn’t naive enough to believe any of it was coincidence, but he had a difficult