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Healing The Warrior: United Kingdom Of Love, #2
Healing The Warrior: United Kingdom Of Love, #2
Healing The Warrior: United Kingdom Of Love, #2
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Healing The Warrior: United Kingdom Of Love, #2

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Can the younger, bubbly paramedic heal the battle scars of this older, gruff ex-soldier?

Fletcher
When I'm honourably discharged from the British Army on medical grounds following a brutal tour in Afghanistan, I use my skills as a combat medic to continue to save lives as a paramedic. I'm confident there's no situation I can't handle ... until I'm teamed up with chirpy Grace Newton. She's everything I'm not - young, idealistic, and brimming with sunshine. Everything about her rubs me the right way, stirring wants and desires I thought were long dead. She should be off-limits - after all, I'm her mentor and work colleague. But one kiss has me wanting Grace's healing hands all to myself for the rest of our lives.

 

Grace

When I'm teamed up with Fletcher Hardy on my first day as a qualified paramedic, his gruff nature and abrupt manner almost have me rethinking my career choice. I'm no stranger to tortured veterans - my father is one - so I know better than most the mental and emotional toll war takes on a soldier. But as Fletch and I work together, I see a different side to him. His care and compassion draw me in, and I want to soothe the loneliness in his eyes. Before I know it, I'm falling for the tender man with the tough facade, but will my love be enough to heal the wounds I can't see?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherViolet Rae
Release dateMar 5, 2023
ISBN9798224309665
Healing The Warrior: United Kingdom Of Love, #2

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    Healing The Warrior - Violet Rae

    Chapter One

    Grace

    You’ve got this, love, Maddie says at the end of the phone. You’ve worked hard, and this is your time to shine.

    Thanks, Mads, I say gratefully, trying to quell the nerves in my stomach. I wouldn’t be here without you and Jacob.

    Maddie and I met when I was eighteen, and she was twenty-two. She’d recently qualified as a nurse and helped me at a very dark time in my life. Maddie and her husband, Jacob, gave me a roof over my head when I had nowhere else to go. It’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay, and I’m so thankful she was one of the nurses on shift when I turned up at the hospital that day.

    I feel like a proud mummy, sending her kid off to school for the first time. Maddie sniffs down the line. She’s four months pregnant with her second child, and the pregnancy hormones are playing havoc with her emotions.

    Won’t be long before you and Jacob are doing just that with Kaitlyn, I tease, referring to their three-year-old daughter. She’s the spitting image of her beautiful mum with her blonde hair and blue eyes.

    Ugh. Don’t. I’m not ready for my baby girl to go to school yet. Sending her to nursery for the first time was bad enough. You remember how Jacob was, wanting to know how many boys were at the nursery? God knows what he’ll be like when she starts dating, she huffs.

    He’s protective of his little girl. And possessive of his big girl. I smile, knowing Jacob can’t keep his hands off his wife. And vice versa.

    She and Jacob were best friends for years before they finally admitted they were in love with each other. They didn’t waste any time getting married, and two years later, little Kait came along.

    Just as well this baby is a boy, I tease. I think another girl would give Jacob a coronary.

    You’re not wrong there. Maddie laughs.

    Listen, I’m here, so I gotta go, I say as the ambulance station comes into view. I took the underground from my little flat and walked the five minutes to the station, taking the opportunity to call Maddie along the way.

    Okay. Love you. Ring me later with all the deets.

    I will. Love you too.

    I end the call and pocket my phone before heading inside.

    Station 26 forms part of the London Ambulance Service, the busiest emergency ambulance service in the UK. It’s my first day as a fully qualified paramedic, and walking in for the first time is daunting, but I’m determined not to show my nerves.

    I may not look like much of a fighter at 5’5" with a slender frame, but that doesn't mean I’m not strong in mind and heart. I wouldn't be standing here today if it weren’t for my fighting spirit. I’ve clawed my way out of the hellhole that was my life. Since I escaped, I’ve been betting on myself, building up my confidence, and letting my light shine as brightly as possible because I will never let the darkness swallow me up and steal my joy.

    I’ve spent the last five years forging my path in life, focusing on establishing my career, and carefully investing my money for my future. I was fortunate enough to have help from a wonderful woman when I was at my lowest point. Maddie, a nurse, is now my best friend and inspiration for wanting a job where I can help make a difference in other people's lives. 

    Which is why I’m here at the London Ambulance Service, showing up bright and early, with two coffees and a smile on my face. I’ve done my research and discovered that my mentor, Daniel Blake, loves his coffee with plenty of milk and three sugars. 

    As I head toward the locker room, I pull up short at the sight of the two men in the hallway. I’ve met Craig, the Operating Officer, but I don’t recognise the other man. He’s tall with buzzed hair and looks ridiculously fit. His shirt stretches across his broad shoulders and wide chest, which tapers to a trim waist and strong thighs. His trousers accentuate his arse perfectly, and I wonder how much weight the man deadlifts to get an arse that firm. 

    … bet good money she signed herself up for this job under some fanciful notion of helping people with her selfless, misguided ideals of making the world a better place, the stranger is saying.

    Jesus, I know you’ve seen some shit, but you are one cynical bastard, Fletcher, Craig says, shaking his head. She may be young, but you never know, she could teach your ornery arse a thing or two.

    I’m a paramedic, not a fucking babysitter, he growls. 

    Grace is twenty-three, not a baby, and more than capable, or she wouldn’t be here, Craig defends.

    Oh. They’re talking about me. Marvellous.

    Craig catches sight of me hovering in the hallway and plasters a huge smile on his face. Grace! We were just talking about you, he booms, confirming my suspicions.

    I heard, I say, hiding my reaction to the unfamiliar guy’s words. 

    He doesn’t intimidate me. I was baptised in the fires of a cruel, manipulative father who got his message across via intimidation, disparaging comments, and sometimes, his fists. My mother took it for as long as she could before she up and left. There one day and gone the next. It hurts like hell that she didn’t take me with her. Was I so unlovable that she didn’t want me, either? A question I may never have the answer to, as I have no idea where she is.

    It would've been too easy to give up and let the dickhead beat me into submission, to remain that broken, defeated person who cowed at his every demand and carried out his bidding. The day he wielded a bread knife on me was the day I had enough. I fled my childhood home as soon as I could, slamming the door behind me and promising myself that no matter what, I would never go back. And I promised myself a long time ago I’d never let anyone treat me like that again. 

    This is your partner, Fletcher Hardy, Craig continues, tipping his head toward Mr Personality. Daniel’s out with a broken leg, so you’ll be working with Fletcher until Daniel’s fit to return. 

    Shit. I know Fletcher Hardy by reputation only. He’s the stern-faced, ex-Army combat medic who makes it a point to avoid mentoring others. 

    He’s the last person I want to be partnered with. It seems to be mutual because I can practically feel the resentment coming off him in waves. 

    Admittedly, I’ve only met Daniel once, but he and Fletcher Hardy seem like polar opposites. Daniel has a great sense of humour and an easy-going personality, and I was looking forward to having a few laughs with him to lighten the seriousness of our job. But Fletcher’s severe demeanour tells me there will be very little laughter on shift. He looks like he’d rather be lumbered with a circus clown than me. 

    Still, I’ve dealt with worse. I’ll approach the situation like I do everything—with shitloads of positivity.

    I switch both coffee mugs into one hand and thrust the other towards him, giving him a thousand-watt smile. Nice to meet you. 

    A zing of electricity arcs up my arm and tightens my nipples as our palms connect. Bloody hell, what is that? I shake his hand firmly before dropping it like a hot rock.

    He nods abruptly. I’ll meet you in the bay in ten minutes.

    Okie-dokie. Brushing past him, I almost spill the coffee as I head towards the ambulance bay.

    I’m not sure what Mr Personality’s problem is, but something tells me this is going to

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