Reawakened by Her Army Major
Autore
Charlotte Hawkes
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CHAPTER ONE
‘RELAX, BEA, YOU look great.’
Stopping outside the doors to the nightclub, where a muffled bass beat was already audible, Bridget Gardiner smoothed down the shimmery short dress she’d borrowed from her friend and tried not to look awkward or out of place.
Not feel like some scraggly stray next to the strikingly sophisticated Mattie Brigham.
‘You’re sure?’ Bridget shifted uncertainly.
‘I’m definitely sure. Perfect for finally breaking out of your shell and trying something a little bit crazy.’
‘Yeah...about that...’
‘Oh, no. You can’t back out now, Bea. Weren’t you the one who originally said that tonight was about having fun?’
‘Yes...’ Bridget trailed off uncertainly.
Tonight was supposed to be about fun. Only wanting to do something crazy and actually doing something crazy were two very separate things.
‘Weren’t you also the one who said that we spend most of our careers being serious?’ Mattie continued. ‘Too serious sometimes. Tonight is about just cutting loose, right?’
‘I know...’
‘Got to take a few chances. Life’s too short not to. Trust me.’
Bridget eyed her friend for a moment. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but Mattie seemed different tonight. Perhaps a little...agitated? Not obviously so, just flashes every now and then. Certainly not the cool, collected army major and doctor that Bridget was accustomed to seeing.
‘Everything okay, Mattie?’
Mattie hesitated and, for a moment Bridget thought she was going to say something. But then her friend seemed to pull her shoulders back and roll her eyes.
‘Ghosts from the past.’ She shrugged, back to her usual self. On the outside at least. ‘Gotta shake them off. Maybe I should try something crazy too, just so you’re not alone.’
‘It’s fine.’ Bridget plastered a bright smile on her face and tried to look earnest. ‘Actually, I’m looking forward to tonight.’
‘Liar!’ Mattie laughed softly, reaching for the door handle and pulling it open as the thrum of music spilled out into the street. ‘I know you’d be ten times more at home in some aid post in a disaster area. And a hundred times more confident. You can handle rebels and guerrillas in the middle of some refugee camp thousands of miles from home, Bea.’
‘You make me sound a lot cooler than I really am...’ Bridget wrinkled her nose.
‘You are cool, Bea. But the fact that you’re practically quaking at the idea of meeting a bunch of my army buddies, not to mention my thorn-in-my-side big brother, isn’t so cool. In fact, it’s daft.’
‘I know that, too,’ Bridget admitted.
Although, to be fair, it was meeting Hayden that was worrying her most. Mattie might grumble about her brother—also an army officer—but there was absolutely no mistaking the fact that she loved him without reservation. How many times had she lamented the fact that their respective army careers meant they didn’t see each other—or their retired army brigadier father—enough?
And then, as if on cue, the doubts began creeping in. As familiar and painful as ever.
Bridget gritted her teeth and tried to shut them out, but it was impossible.
What if Hayden didn’t like her? What if he told Mattie that she wasn’t good enough to be Mattie’s friend?
Stop it, you’re not fourteen any more.
She wasn’t that kid who all the cool kids pointed at and laughed at. The one whose father was a fraudster and a conman.
‘Good. So, fun,’ Mattie said firmly, oblivious to the sudden turmoil in Bridget’s mind. ‘Good, clean fun. Then back to the serious stuff tomorrow, okay?’
‘Okay.’ Bridget paused then returned Mattie’s gentle smile with a rather sheepish one of her own. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Still a lie, but more convincing.’ Mattie grinned. ‘Trust me, Bea, we’ve been through this, they’re a nice bunch and they’ll love you.’
With that, her friend ducked into the club, leaving Bridget to follow, coming to an abrupt halt for a moment as a heavy wall of heat and sound hit her with such a wallop that for a moment she forgot how to breathe.
She watched Mattie accept the two proffered welcome jelly shots from the girl at the door, then let her friend place one in her hand.
‘Open your mouth, pinch the container, and swallow.’ Mattie demonstrated. ‘Wow. Now, they are strong!’
Closing her eyes and sending out a silent prayer, Bridget followed suit. It slid down her throat surprisingly smoothly, the taste sweet but with a kick nonetheless. Then Mattie grabbed her hand and plunged them both into the gyrating bodies.
Like Alice down the rabbit hole.
And whether it was the crowd, the music or the insanely strong shot, Bridget found her body heating up and her brain beginning to loosen its grip just a fraction. People bumped her—or perhaps she bumped them—and swept her along, as if her feet weren’t always quite touching the ground.
She was almost grateful when Mattie came to a stop in front of a small, friendly looking group who erupted into shouts and laughs, all of them jostling a little in their obvious eagerness to greet their friend. And before she realised it, they were turning to acknowledge her, too. Warmly, but not too over the top. Mattie had been right, her friends were a nice bunch, and this was actually...fun.
Right up until the moment when Mattie gave a low cry and hurled herself past Bridget.
‘Hayd. You’re here.’
Bridget turned, amused, but instead something jolted through her. Like a shock of electricity. Her body didn’t even feel like her own any longer or, if it did, she certainly didn’t have any control over it. Instead, all she could do was stand there, frozen in place like one of her teenage nightmares, her eyes struggling to refocus. To take it all in.
So, this was Mattie’s brother, the infamous Major Hayden Brigham. He wasn’t at all how she’d pictured him.
Then again, she wasn’t sure how she’d pictured him. Good looking, certainly, since Mattie had never made any bones about that fact, but Bridget had put it down to indulgence on the part of a loving sister. Hayden was apparently a very eligible bachelor—and what was more, he knew it—so he didn’t sound at all her type. If she actually had a type, that was. Still, she’d thought she’d been fully prepared for meeting him in person.
But she’d been wrong. In truth, surely nothing could have prepared any woman for the reality of meeting the guy in person.
He wasn’t just good looking—such a description was too pedestrian for a man like Major Hayden Brigham. He was...arresting—magnificent—and if there was a perfect specimen of male beauty, it was him.
Less of a man, more of a mountain, yet unequivocally male. Bridget was fairly certain she heard a collective sigh of appreciation from the female contingent of the entire club. Or maybe that was just her?
And she hated herself for it. It was so not her to lust over a man. Any man. But certainly not one who was also the brother of the closest thing Bridget had had to a best friend since she’d been a kid. Certainly not one with whom she was going to be working—out in the middle of nowhere on the African continent—for the next three months.
Well, not working with exactly. But close enough. Which was why, no matter how insane her body was going right now, she didn’t fancy him. She refused to.
Yet what was to be done when everything about him, from that crop of short yet deliciously tousled dirty-blond hair down to the jaw—so square that a carpenter could have used it to take perfect right angles—was stunning? Not to mention those Baltic-blue eyes that seemed to peer into her very soul, holding her own and making it feel as though her entire face was on fire.
She couldn’t move, could barely even breathe. She had no idea how she managed to wrest her gaze away, but suddenly it was dropping. Down over those broad, strong shoulders to which the fitted shirt clung so lovingly, and did absolutely nothing to disguise, and over the indisputably defined chest as it tapered to the sexiest set of male hips she imagined had ever existed.
She couldn’t look down any further. She didn’t dare. And so they lingered there—shamefully—somewhere around his belt buckle.
Fleetingly, Bridget considered making her escape. Rushing for the Ladies’ to douse herself with some much-needed cold water. Naturally, it was that exact moment that her friend chose to introduce the two of them.
‘Bridget, this is my brother, Hayden. Hayd, meet Bridget Gardiner, who I’ve been telling you about. Though she’s off limits, right?’
More heat—if it was even possible—rushed to Bridget’s face, even as her mouth became too parched to begin to respond. Not that it mattered, as Hayden was already speaking, his rich, deep, yet slightly wry tone doing...things to Bridget’s insides.
She needed to get a grip. Draw on some of that strength she always had in one of those refugee camps in the middle of some foreign country.
‘Thank you, Mattie...’ the low, rich voice rolled through her, despite the deep pulse of the nightclub bass line, leaving her altogether too...aware of her own body ‘...for making it sound as though I pounce on every friend you introduce me to. And, Bridget, I’ve heard a fair bit about you. It’s a pleasure.’
He held his hand out, the movement breaking her stare, and she snapped her eyes back up in an instant.
His blue eyes glittered. All-knowing. Clearly amused.
Her flush intensified as she thrust out her hand to his proffered one, shaking it clumsily. She’d never, never reacted to anyone like this. She’d thought it was something reserved for films, or books. But, lord, how Hayden positively oozed authority. And power.
It was...intoxicating.
You can resist him. You can resist him... Bridget began to chant it furiously to herself, like some kind of new mantra.
As if she would actually need to try.
As if Hayden would even look twice at a woman so quiet that she could make wallflowers look like prima donnas.
But, then, that was what happened when you’d spent the first thirteen years of your life gliding around the most glittering, monied, social circles, only for absolutely everything to tumble down in the most shameful way when your father had got arrested for fraud.
Was it any wonder, then, Bridget thought, not for the first time, that she’d spent the next thirteen years making herself as inconsequential and invisible as possible, fighting to shake off those associations?
Only now, right at this minute, standing in the spotlight of Hayden’s stare, she didn’t feel inconsequential or invisible, or gawky and out of step. Instead, she felt raw. Wobbly. Naked.
And a raft of other things she couldn’t—or didn’t want to—identify.
Get a grip.
‘Hayden.’ Thrusting her hand out to take his proffered one, she wasn’t prepared for the jolt of electricity that zapped right through her, from the tips of her fingers right to her core. Right...there. Bridget was frankly astounded that she managed to make her voice sound remotely normal. ‘Likewise.’
‘Call me Hayd. Everyone does.’
Hayd. Even his name sang a new song inside Bridget’s head. It should have been laughable but instead, shamefully, she found that she was entranced.
‘I don’t think you pounce on every friend I introduce to you,’ Mattie’s firm, all-too-shrewd voice cut in. ‘Just those who have something about them.’
‘I take it she’s always this complimentary about me?’ Hayden... Hayd turned to Bridget with raised eyebrows, but the twitch of his mouth was almost mesmerising.
It was all she could do not to let her legs crumple. They were certainly shaky enough.
‘Incredible brother, amazing commanding officer, but unashamed playboy.’ She ticked off each trait on one hand, as if entirely amused and not the least bit affected.
‘Playboy?’ He frowned.
‘Well, not those words exactly,’ Bridget confessed.
Though she’d added the playboy bit to keep her own head screwed on, if nothing else. How he couldn’t hear the deafening hammering of her heart was mystifying, though perhaps he was altogether too accustomed to it.
‘I think it was more women always throwing themselves at his feet. But I get the impression you’re not exactly a monk.’
‘He definitely isn’t a monk.’ Mattie clicked her tongue. ‘Are you okay for a minute, Bea? I ought to say hi to everyone.’
How was it possible to simultaneously want to grab her friend’s arm and make her stay, and yet to push her on her way and tell her not to rush back?
‘Sure.’ She managed to smile instead, though it felt like a rictus.
‘I’ll take care of her.’ Hayden’s voice sent goosebumps chasing up her skin.
‘Yeah, well, not too much care.’ Mattie skewered him with a glower before bestowing a smile on Bridget. ‘He’s not what I meant by doing something crazy.’
‘Of course not,’ Bridget agreed, wondering why her voice sounded so robotic. And then Mattie was gone, and she was left alone with her friend’s brother. And her body launched itself into another insane fever.
What was the matter with her?
Hayden Brigham was positively lethal and according to Mattie any woman worth her salt should steer clear of the man, or at least be able to steel herself against his natural charms.
She’d been confident she’d fall easily into that category. Now she feared for her own sanity. Less than three minutes in this man’s company and her body was already feeling out of her control, and alien. What would three months of working with him be like?
‘Something crazy?’ he echoed, and for a moment she couldn’t be sure if it was a question or an invitation.
Bridget stuffed down the sudden thrill that rose within her and told herself it was entirely unwelcome.
She didn’t believe in that stuff. Love, lust, sex, whatever one wanted to call it. She’d seen firsthand how destructive that could be. How her father had used her mother’s love for him, and her gullibility, to defend him. To lie for him. All because she had refused to believe what was right in front of her eyes.
Such was the power he’d had over her mother that for years she’d made Bridget—too young to know any better—lie for him, too. And as Bridget had grown up and had seen for herself what kind of a smooth-talking con artist her father was, she had assured herself that she simply couldn’t see how anyone could be that naive.
Right now, however, she was terribly afraid she could begin to understand all too easily. Not that she was saying Hayden Brigham was anything like her father, of course...just that it was suddenly all too easy to see how one could succumb to someone with boundless charisma and incredible looks.
‘Never mind,’ she managed to choke out quietly, before raising her voice. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘Judging by my sister’s comments, I’m not altogether convinced that’s a good thing.’ His lips twitched in amusement and Bridget found herself helplessly bewitched. ‘Let me assure you that whilst whatever I do in my downtime is my business, I am strictly professional when it comes to operations or exercises.’
‘Right,’ Bridget muttered.
And what did it say about her that a hint of disappointment rippled through her at Hayden’s reassurance? Or that his gaze slid lazily over her as though he could read her reaction in every line of her body.
‘Relax, no need to be nervous.’
‘I’m not,’ she lied, silently trying to bolster herself.
‘Is that so? Your shaking hands say otherwise but, trust me, I won’t bite.’
‘Not unless I want you to—isn’t that how the saying goes?’ The quip was out before she even realised what she was saying.
Something pulled sharply in his gaze, but Bridget couldn’t even begin to read it. She was too horrified at herself.
‘I’m sorry... I don’t...’
‘And here I was, under strict instructions from Mattie that that’s exactly the sort of remark I’m not allowed to make.’
He was laughing at her, and she couldn’t blame him. Still, she prickled uncomfortably.
‘I apologise unreservedly, Hayden,’ she began. ‘That really isn’t the—’
‘Hayd,’ he reminded her, and she faltered uncertainly.
‘Seriously, no one really calls me Hayden except my father, and the general if he isn’t happy with me. Although I admit that doesn’t happen often.’
Out of all the questions and responses swirling around her head, it was inconceivable that the one she came out with was, ‘Isn’t that a little arrogant?’
‘No. Just factual.’ He shrugged, but that smile still toyed with his lips.
A mouth that was more sinfully tempting than Bridget could ever have thought possible.
What was happening here?
‘Are you always so...factual?’
‘It depends on the subject, I suppose. But, yes, I try to be. I prefer that to people saying things they don’t really mean.’
‘I prefer that, too,’ she said, before she realised she was even speaking.
‘Yes. I think that’s one of the reasons why my sister has taken to you so well.’
‘Mattie has talked about me?’ Surprise bounced through her. ‘To you?’
His eyes skated over her face, leaving Bridget with the distinct impression that he was able to read altogether too much, just from her face. She tried to smooth out her features into whatever might pass for a passive or neutral expression. But that only seemed to elicit a ghost of a smile from his wickedly tempting mouth.
‘She said you’ve been working for the charity for years. From Chad to South Sudan, in outreach clinics and major foreign aid hospitals alike.’
‘I first met her after the earthquakes in Nepal,’ Bridget heard herself say. ‘I was a nurse for an NGO, and Mattie’s army medical unit had come to help because of the sheer scale of the disaster.’
‘Yeah, I remember her saying you were with the medical charity already on site. You and she dragged all the patients into the street when an aftershock ripped through the hospital building?’
‘In a nutshell,’ Bridget agreed, surprised he knew.
Even now, she could remember the moment with such clarity. The shock had rocked the buildings they’d been using as a temporary medical facility, some of the ceilings had fallen in with the intensity, and even the walls had shown signs of crumbling. If she closed her eyes, Bridget could still hear the shouts and screams in the streets.
She remembered looking for the patients she knew were the most severely injured, just as Mattie had taken charge, quickly and calmly instructing not just her army medics but all the staff. Determining that it was no longer safe to treat them indoors and designating the order that the patients needed to be stretchered outside, even as she sent a recce team to find a safe location and begin to set up large tents and temporary beds.
At that moment she’d seen Mattie as a mentor. A woman who might only be a few years older than she herself was but who was years ahead in terms of her career. A woman whose unique attitude had allowed her to easily adapt from being commanding officer to empathetic doctor—exactly the kind of doctor that Bridget had once hoped that she herself might have become, if things had been different.
If only her father’s suicide following his arrest hadn’t left her already fragile-minded mother a wreck, needing to be taken care of, leaving Bridget no room for studies or a career. Not that anything she’d done had ever been good enough for her mother.
Not until her mother had finally met a new man to fill that obvious void in her life and make her feel complete. And then Bridget had finally been able to start making a life for herself. First as a nurse and then as a volunteer for foreign aid charities in the hope that one day one would sponsor her to finally realise her dream and become a doctor.
If only her life had been different.
But it hadn’t been. Bridget steeled herself as she had so many other times when her mind had threatened to take a little detour down this particular memory lane. What was the point thinking about something she could never change?
‘So now I’m going to be working with another Brigham sibling.’ She managed a laugh, trying to divert her mind. ‘You’re a major in the Royal Engineers?’
