Page 18 of Under His Command

Crap! Why did it have to be Flynn of all people?

Maybe she could pretend she didn’t hear him and he’d go away. If she wasn’t in such a pickle, she’d have laughed at that ridiculous notion. He wouldn’t let her ignore him.

Right then, he dropped into a squat, and ducked his head, peering into the small space.“Cassie?” he repeated, this time with an edge of concern in his tone.

Curse her bad luck.

Because of systems issues, she had to cancel training sessions in the simulator today. Having the place to herself, she kicked off her shoes and when the time came to crawl under the furniture to complete a minor repair, she went for it. She didn’t think anyone would walk in and catch her this way. And why, on this huge naval base, with thousands of employees, did it have to be the one man who made her chest ache, palms sweat, and her girly parts tingle?

She couldn’t close her eyes at night without seeing him, and during the day, with the revolving door of men in and out of her lab, she strained to hear the deep chuckle that came easy for him. It was distracting because she looked up every time the door to her lab opened, expecting to see his twinkling gray-blue eyes.

Instead of monitoring the simulations and adjusting a setting here and there, she stared off into space, with images of his handsome face haunting her. Or seeing the dimple she hadn’t noticed at first, maybe because it was in his left cheek, which faced away when he’d been driving, or because it was dark when they met or a host of other reasons. Now she knew it popped out when he smiled, or when he clenched his jaw, a telltale sign of annoyance, most often directed at one of the BUD/s trainees.

So many times, she wished he’dappear and didn’t. Why did he have to turn up now?

“You’re holding your head. Are you hurt?”

Realizing she had been staring at him like an idiot without saying a word, she forced a reply. “I smacked my head on the desk, but I’m okay.”

“Come out, and I’ll have a look.” Softly spoken or not, it was not a request. Used to being obeyed by the men under his command, Flynn held out his hand, expecting her compliance as well.

“I need to change out this power cord first.”

With another pain-induced grunt, she patted the floor until she found the three-pronged plug she’d dropped while trying to tend to her injuries. Once she had it in hand, she stretched for the outlet again, still just out of reach. Moving the workstation would have been easier than crawling on the dirty floor. She’d tried that option first, but the sturdy, multi-section, metal and wood desk hadn’t budged an inch when sheattempted to slide it away from the wall. So here she was, stuck, embarrassed, lacking only another half inch to complete her mission.

Straining, she paid no attention to the sharp edges digging into her flesh in a half-dozen locations and slid the plug into place. She heaved a sigh when she heard the equipment over her head power on.

Her relief was short-lived, however. Next came extricating herself without further embarrassment, while Flynn watched.

She’d much rather stay in the cubby hole until he left, but he must have come to the lab for a reason. Having no other excuse to hide from him and knowing she would seem even more foolish cowering under the desk, she inched out of the cramped wire-and-cord-cluttered opening.

Cassie soon realized backing out blindly was much harder than getting in. As her bare skin dragged along the tile, she bumped her elbow, the other one this time, though not as hard. It still caused a sharp pain and subsequent tingling.

“Funny bone, my ass,” she grumbled.

“Let me move the desk.”

“No. I’ve got it.” Shifting backward again with more caution, she stopped when something tugged on her hair. Reaching up carefully, she found her braid had become snagged on a wire hanging down from overhead. She felt around, got poked with the sharp end twice, and pulled, but it only seemed to make it worse.

Just great.

She closed her eyes. “Flynn?”

“I’m righthere, Cassie.”

“I’m stuck,” she muttered.

He didn’t allow even a second to pass before his hand slid over her hip, up her back, his long arm easily reaching her head. He moved her hand out of the way and worked her hair free. The next thing she knew, both of his hands clamped around her hips as he guided her out.

When she cleared the workstation, flushed, hot, and feeling as rumpled as an unmade bed, she looked up, watching with unabashed fascination as he unfolded from his squat to tower over her. Something about their positions, her at his feet, small compared to his long, hard-muscled frame, he in his crisp uniform with the officer stripes prominent on his shoulders, and his entire commanding presence caused a rush of liquid heat between her legs. Not an unfamiliar sensation in the time she’d known him.

She dismissed all thoughts of the tingling, warmth, and moisture below her waist and gazed up at him. It was then she saw his hand extended to help her up, a gentleman as always. When she laid her palm on his, heat flared, spreading through her body as he pulled her to her feet.

Standing close, nearly touching, she moved back and began fussing with her dusty, mussed clothing, smoothing down her skirt where it had ridden up, adjusting her half-untucked blouse, and finger combing the strands of hair that had come loose from the side braidshe’d fashioned that morning.

Flynn stayed her movements by taking her shoulders and turning her toward him. “Let’s have a look at that bump, shall we?”

In an instant, he erased the distance between them. The sound of his breath and the rustling of his clothes filled the air, and she could feel the warmth emanating from his skin. With gentle hands, he tilted her head forward, his fingers searching for a moment before murmuring, “This will have to go.”

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