Page 14 of Shadow Undercover

“Dr. Sorenson is one of the doctors working for Fortress. When we have injuries, we always detour to Bayside for treatment. Follow-up care is taken care of by one of our doctors in Nashville. Sorenson was one of the best trauma surgeons in the country until he decided to work for us. He went on missions for years until he’d had enough and now runs a clinic.”

Trace’s lips curved slightly at Sam’s omission in telling Bridget that Sorenson was a practicing veterinarian. Bridget wouldn’t be happy to know a vet would be treating her injuries.

“Try not to move,” Sam said to Bridget. “I’ll work as fast as I can. Can you feel this?”

“Pressure only.”

“Perfect. Think you can hold Trace’s hands for ten minutes?”

Bridget’s gaze locked onto his. “I’ll sacrifice myself for the cause.” She winked at him.

Incredible. He could see the evidence of pain yet she made an effort to stay positive.

The next few minutes passed with Trace sharing some of the humorous incidents that had occurred when Shadow was on missions. His one-sided conversation was broken only by murmurs of encouragement from Sam. Finally, the medic yanked off her rubber gloves. “You’re all set, Bridget.” She handed her a couple capsules. “Mild pain killers. Non-habit forming. Sleep as much as you can while we’re in the air. Trace, come get me if she needs anything. I’ll be back in an hour to check on her.” She left the room with her husband on her heels.

Trace handed Bridget the soft drink. When she downed the capsules, he set the drink aside. “Sam’s right. You should rest while you have a chance. It will help your body heal faster. If you’ll let me, I’ll help you lay down.”

“Thanks.”

He tossed the ice packs on the other side of the bed and placed his arm across Bridget’s shoulders. “Lean back. I’ll lower you to the mattress while you swing your legs up.”

Trace took her weight and smoothly lowered her down, then positioned the ice packs again. “Good?”

“Yes. Thank you, Trace.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll let you rest.” Trace turned away.

She caught his hand.

He glanced down at her. Bridget’s cheeks were tinged with red. “What is it?”

“Do you mind staying? Unless you have something else you need to do with your unit.”

He did, but it would wait. In truth, he was happy to have more time with her. And what was wrong with him? He wasn’t one who was quick to get involved with a woman, especially one he’d been instrumental in rescuing. His job precluded personal relationships. Except Nico was married and so were Joe and Sam.

Not for him, though. He didn’t know if any woman would tolerate his crazy work schedule coupled with his job description. What sane woman wanted to involve herself with a man trained to be a killer?

“I don’t mind staying,” he said, voice gruff. Trace rounded the foot of the bed, climbed onto the mattress, and propped himself up against the wall, his thigh brushing her shoulder. “Sleep, Bridget. I’ll watch over you.”

A faint smile curved her lips. “Didn’t know guardian angels were handsome.”

He chuckled, his cheeks burning at her compliment. “Close your eyes.”

She complied. Within ten minutes, the combination of adrenaline dump and pain meds worked its magic and Bridget drifted off.

At the one-hour mark, Sam returned, woke Bridget, and asked a series of basic questions. She patted the injured woman’s shoulder. “You’re doing great. Sleep. I’ll check you again in two hours. Trace, come get me if anything changes.”

He saluted her and settled back to keep watch again. They repeated the same procedure throughout the flight with Bridget sleeping restlessly in between Sam’s visits.

Several hours into the flight, Sam returned to the bedroom. “We’re twenty minutes out from Bayside.”

Bridget stirred. “Need to know the name of the president again, Sam?” she murmured. “You might need to have your short-term memory evaluated.”

The medic laughed. “Not this time. We’re getting ready to land. How do you feel?”

“Not bad considering a couple of thugs used me for a punching bag.”

“How’s the nausea?”

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