Scarred Survival (Scarred Series Book 5) Page 3

  She gazed along the drive with him.

  “We all have the same fears about what happens next. It took me months of physio to get this arm to work efficiently. I had to take the physical twice to convince them that I could do it. You’ll get back in if you take things easy and rest. I don’t mean just your body but your brain too.”

  Aaron shook his head.

  “I don’t think rest is going to do it this time. I had a hard time convincing them when it happened before. I had to jump through a lot of hoops, but I thought they would have my back this time. I hadn’t done anything wrong. No one was killed. I landed that thing on a fucking penny with no rotor. But they don’t care. I’ve been left swinging in the breeze, blamed for things that were outside of my control and now they don’t want me back. They’re going to make sure this crap injury does it for me. I won’t fly again. I can feel it.” He glared at Gemma. “Now if you can help with getting me airborne again then I’m interested, if not then I’m afraid you can take your good intentions and evaluations and stick them where the sun doesn’t shine as far as I am concerned.” His boots spun on the gravel and Gemma was left staring opened mouthed at his back as he marched slightly lopsidedly away from the château.

  Aaron hobbled off along the long driveway kicking any larger stones out of his way as he walked. His boot hit a pebble more stubborn than the rest and he swore to himself as his toe hit the end of his boot with more force than he could stand.

  God dammit! He raised his eyes skyward and took a deep, calming breath. He glanced back over his shoulder towards the château. The woman walked at a smart pace towards the doors and he couldn’t help admiring her tight backside just before she disappeared from his sight. He came to a standstill and let his shoulders slump in resignation. He’d let his temper get the better of his tongue, something he couldn’t afford to let it do too often. A breeze caught the hair that hung too long over his brow and he turned into the wind, letting it cool his heated mood.

  He took another look at the main door to the huge place and his gaze wandered across the old stonework. It really was a beautiful building. Grey and solid, giving an air of permanency and security. He’d been surprised at how grand the place appeared when he first saw it, and even more surprised when he had been shown inside. The place was luxurious by anyone’s standards and he’d thought something a bit strange was going on at first when he’d been shown into a room with a huge four poster bed and glorious en-suite wet-room.

  His initial suspicions were soon allayed after nearly falling over a young man he’d met weaving blindly down a darkened corridor in the middle of the night. Unable to sleep and hungry after a day travelling but not eating anything of substance, Aaron had decided to venture towards the kitchens that the woman had mentioned. She had told him that everyone was welcome to help themselves to everything available and he thought a ham sandwich and a cup of tea might just do the trick. If nothing else it would relieve the boredom of a sleepless night.

  His new friend, a badly scarred and near blind twenty-one year old called William, had caught hold of his arm and chatted amiably as they both decided to forage for food in the fridge. The young man was wildly enthusiastic about the centre and after allowing Aaron to guide him down the stairs, they found their way down into the kitchens. Aaron soon discovered that every room was apparently furnished to a similarly high standard as his bedroom.

  He’d asked William about the woman who had met him at reception the evening before and William had been more than keen to talk about her. The way he had raved about her, it soon became clear that he had developed something of a crush. Aaron hadn’t seen why until that morning. Now he readily acknowledged that Gemma had beautiful, dark eyes, an engaging wit and a backside that rivalled any he had ever admired before. He had admired quite a few over the years, but it had been a while since he’d given into temptation. He thought about the woman again and felt all his blood run south as he couldn’t help visualising that tight backside covered in just a small triangle of black lace.

  He rolled his eyes at himself. Good grief! This wasn’t the time or place to go running after a bit of skirt. He was there to get well and to clear his name. He rolled his shoulders, set his jaw and turned back to the driveway. He clearly needed a long walk to cool both his foul temper and his raging libido.

  Chapter Two

  “He said what? Stick our place where the sun don’t shine? I’ll punch his lights out!” Paul shouted. He was out from behind his desk and already feeling his way around to the door. Being blind wouldn’t stop him defending his staff or their new rehabilitation project.

  Gemma placed her hand on his arm while Amy went to stand in front of the door, barring his exit.

  “Don’t be daft, Paul. I was only telling you so that you knew exactly how he feels about being here. The guy’s just hurting. Give him some time and don’t take it all so personally. You of all people know how it feels to be let down and disbelieved by those in charge. Cut the guy some slack and listen to his story. We may be able to help more than he thinks.”

  Paul grunted.

  “Hurting I can put up with. I know exactly how that feels. Bad manners and rudeness to my staff, I can’t.”

  There was a small snort and a laugh from the pretty woman at his side.

  “Yes, well just you remember that then. It wasn’t so long ago that I was on the sharp edge of your tongue far too many times a day.” Amy grinned at Gemma as Paul’s face suddenly sagged, but then it brightened again. He waggled as finger at his wife.

  “Hang on! You weren’t staff then and strictly speaking neither was I, so that doesn’t count. But yes, I know what you mean and I’m sorry for how I treated you and the things I said to you back then, you know I am.” His voice had softened considerably.

  Amy smiled up at her husband and lifted his hand to her face so he could feel her mood.

  “I know. I was just reminding you, that’s all.” She turned her face slightly and kissed his palm gently before she spoke once again. “Sometimes the stress can get to you. Ellen said that David was a nightmare until he went back to work. Patrick holed himself up in a forest for nearly two years before Ellen rescued him and he began to see the light of day. Joe only just held himself together until he met Lucy and you were a complete pain in the backside until you got your teeth stuck into this place. This Aaron guy is no different from you lot. We just need to distract him from what he obviously sees as a personal vendetta.”

  Gemma nodded thoughtfully.

  “Yes, but I don’t think he’s going to take to any suggestions easily. It seems that he’s only come here because he has to. It’s not a voluntary arrangement like most of the other guys, and to be honest, physically, apart from the obvious injuries he looks completely fine, not all eaten up like some of the men. He’s here because they don’t want him to fly so something really bad must have happened. I know we don’t get service details here, but has anyone said anything to you about him, Paul? It might be easier to get him to loosen up if I knew more about the accident.”

  Paul shook his head.

  “I gave you everything I could. Basically just his name and job description and that he’d sustained his injuries when he crashed his helicopter. We only get medical records for the doctors, physiotherapists and counsellors and I can’t let you have them unless they are relevant to any activity he’s taking part in. Believe me, they’re not. Apart from having to be careful with the open wound on his hand and keeping his leg supported while it’s mending, he’s good to go with everything we have on offer. He’s not booked in with any of the counsellors at this stage. I’d rather he opened up to someone by himself. I think you’d be good for him Gem. You’re as tough as they come so you should be able to put up with anything he throws at you and you’re a good listener too. Try and bring him out of his shell. Might help with getting him his job back.

  Gemma snorted.

  “Hmm, not really up for that. He’s a flying freak. He loves it and he’s nev
er going to be happy unless he’s in the air. You know how I feel about that type. He’s the sort of guy who cost me my arm, full of heroics with little or no thought to the consequences. I don’t think I’m going to be very sympathetic to his plight. After all, they must have grounded him for a good reason. Who am I to say that they were wrong? Maybe he’s just lost his nerve and is bragging on about wanting to fly but he doesn’t really. These pilots are like their rides...temperamental.”

  Paul frowned at her.

  “It’s not like you to back down from a challenge, Gemma. Look, we don’t even know the man’s problem yet. Give it a couple of days. Work with him quietly, you know, talk to him, keep him company so that he doesn’t really notice that you’re digging. You may find out something important to his recovery. In the meantime I’m going to call Patrick to see if he has any other relevant info that he can share on Flight Lieutenant Aaron Thomas.”

  He shooed Gemma out of his office with his hand as he picked up the phone.

  Gemma walked across the hall and jogged up the stairs to her room. She grabbed her swimming kit and made her way back downstairs to the basement. Sailing had been fun but now she wanted a swim to ease out her joints. Ben and Karl had been exhausted after their day out on the waves and they had both said they were going to clean up and then get some rest time before they came back down later to help cook dinner.

  Their daily hour break had begun after a particularly long day out on the water and the pattern had continued. She and the other guests normally had an hour of relaxation before the evening commenced.

  The indoor pool was really meant for hydrotherapy, but as there were only five men at the centre it didn’t appear to be a problem for her to take a relaxing swim in the warm water. She hoped that the pool area would be empty. She hated revealing what was left of her arm, but as she couldn’t wear her prosthetic in water there was little she could do about it if anyone came in. Today though, as far as she knew, all of the men were resting and after the day at sea she needed the warmth of the heated water.

  She walked into a cubicle and slipped into her plain black costume. Her normally tanned skin looked unusually pale in the fluorescent overhead light. She unbuckled her prosthetic arm and examined her skin, checking for grazing or any deterioration. She’d learned the hard way when she had first gone out on the water. The strenuous activity and wind in her hair had invigorated her, but a few unattended grains of sand inside the socket of her prosthetic limb had been all that was needed to put her out of action for over a week.

  She sighed in relief as everything looked normal. As normal as having a four inch stump could look, that was. Infection or degrading of her skin was her biggest fear now. She’d needed a second operation not long after she first lost her arm due to lack of attention to what her skin was telling her. She was never going to make that mistake again. The agony of a phantom limb had disguised the need for proper attention and she hadn’t realized until it was too late, that the pain was actually an infection in what was left of her arm. To her horror the surgeons had needed to remove another two inches of skin and bone. Now she checked it morning, night and sometimes in between.

  She took a pot of waterproof cream from her bag and slathered it over the end of her arm. It looked horrible, a gooey mess of shiny sludge, but she told herself that she didn’t care. She didn’t have to impress anyone at the château with her looks. She covered her arm with a waterproof bag, taping it firmly at the top to keep the pool clean and pressed her lips together as she took a quick glance at herself in the mirror hanging above the sink. It was just as well that she wasn’t trying to impress any of the guys, she decided as she caught sight of her riotous hair and wind reddened cheeks.

  She lifted her chin in defiance and rolled her eyes at the mess of a woman who rolled her eyes back at her. Who was she kidding? She didn’t have anyone to make an impression on with her looks, anywhere. It wasn’t as if any man was ever going to look at a woman with her arm sliced off halfway between her shoulder and elbow so there was hardly any point in worrying about her hair or her face. She turned away from the mirror quickly, determined to forget about the horrible reflection.

  Trouble was that however much she told herself not to, since leaving the Army nearly two years previously, she worried about her looks constantly.

  She thought back to her sister’s wedding earlier in the year. What with the photographer pulling her about so that her false arm wouldn’t be seen in any of the photographs and the subsequent discussion about scars at the dinner table, Gemma had resolved to leave early. It was only the best man thumping on the table and calling order to the proceedings that stopped the aunt of the groom revealing her hysterectomy scar to the whole bridal party. Gemma had kissed her sister and her new husband goodbye soon after the wedding breakfast and slipped away before someone revealed any other parts of their anatomy or even worse, asked her to do so.

  She walked away from the mirror and into the pool area. The subdued lighting was far more flattering than the harsh fluorescents of the changing room and her mood calmed immediately. She slipped into the warm water and swam lazily towards the other end of the pool, stretching tense limbs and working tight muscles. She floated on her back for a few seconds before she flipped onto her stomach and worked her way back to the other end. She stopped before the shallows and turned again. The water was so warm she could barely feel it on her skin and she took her time to reach the other end. There was no rush; it wasn’t as if she needed any more exercise that day. Sailing was strenuous work. Now was the time for pleasure.

  She turned again and stopped dead as she saw Aaron standing at the edge of the pool gazing down at her. He stood favouring his broken ankle, one tanned leg looking completely perfect, the other being covered with a plastic membrane, taped onto his leg from the knee down. The metal pins holding his ankle together tented the membrane, but didn’t break it. His hand was similarly covered in a transparent, waterproof bag.

  Gemma couldn’t help herself as her eyes took in his powerful frame. Even with the scarring that marred his hand and best part of his forearm, he was pretty impressive. The muscles covering his chest and stomach looked as if they were carved from stone and his thighs below his swim shorts would have graced any footballer. She couldn’t see his left leg clearly below his knee but his right leg had a covering of fine dark hair that led down to an elegantly arched foot.

  She glanced back up to his face. His glared at her, his eyes glittering with the reflection of the water.

  “I didn’t think anyone else was here. I thought everyone was getting ready for dinner.” His tone was tense.

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “So did I...Just needed to loosen some muscles. Sailing was great but it’s hard work. We had a good wind all day and Ben even managed to catch a couple of mackerel when we anchored for some lunch.” She swam to the end of the pool before she spoke again. “I’ll be out of here in a mo if you want some privacy, though normally we’d have someone here as life guard. No one is meant to swim on their own. Standard safety procedure.”

  Aaron snorted and looked around pointedly.

  “Yeah, and you’re adhering to that policy, obviously.”

  Gemma grinned and watched as he lowered himself gracefully onto the poolside.

  “I’m not a guest. I live here so I can do what I like, but if you really want to be alone I can either stay in the changing room and keep an eye on you through the one way mirror or I can turn on the CCTV that plays into the office. It’s just a safety measure. We’d be shut down if anything happened to any of you guys and we don’t want either of those things to happen.”

  He slipped into the warm water and gave a slight grimace as he put some strain on his ankle. He looked about the pool room and his eyes stopped as he noticed the tiny camera sitting below the clock on the wall. He stared at it for a few seconds before he nodded at Gemma.

  “Okay, I’ll let you decide on what’s easiest.” He walked towards her and now
that his hair was away from his forehead, she noticed the deep scars across his temple. They were faded to a pale, silvery beige and looked older than the ones on his arm. He held onto the side of the pool with long fingers before suddenly letting go to swim to the deeper end. His strokes ate up the length of the pool and Gemma could barely take her eyes off his muscular shoulders as they worked the water with ease. He slipped beneath the surface just before he reached the end and turned like an Olympic swimmer, shooting arrow like back towards her.

  He broke the surface just a couple of yards from her and he whipped his hair away from his face. His eyes were the colour of the water, bright and crystalline. Gemma felt her throat tighten as she stared at him and for the first time in years she wished she had tamed her wild, curly hair and moisturized her face. More embarrassed than she had felt for a long time, she turned in the water and swam to the side, pulling herself up with her one arm, twisting and sitting on the side of the pool for a moment before she stood and grabbed her towel from the rail. She wrapped it around her shoulders, covering the stump of her arm and was about to head for the changing room when Aaron spoke.

  “Look, I’m sorry about earlier today. I was out of order with what I said. You’re doing a great job here for those that need it. I just don’t feel like I am one of them. I feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time and money.”

  Gemma turned back to him and gazed down at his upturned face. Water droplets clung to the dark stubble on his strong jaw and lips and she had to fist her hand to stop herself reaching down and wiping them away. His tongue slipped between his lips as he licked the droplets from them and she let out a soft breath as her heart rate stepped up a beat or two. She blinked slowly and attempted to say something coherent. It wasn’t easy. Her eyes dipped to his glistening shoulders and chest. More water clung to the fine matt of dark hair on his chest. She forced all thought of his masculinity down and spoke firmly.