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exhausted by the time the SAS pair went for a close quarter clinch. The two men on top swayed, pulling at each other. Flynn had no idea what happened, but suddenly, he was on the ground, part of a four man skirmish.
    They broke apart and looked to Fletcher for a result.
    ‘This is a first,' he announced. 'It was impossible to tell who hit the ground first, so I’m declaring a tie in this event.'
     
     
    With Fletcher’s announcement, Summer joined the crowd which was whooping and hollering their approval. Hall elbowed his way through, ignoring the jeers of his former outfit. Aiming a vicious look towards Flynn, he and his team left the arena. The crowd parted, and she was in direct line of sight with Flynn.
    Bloody and bruised, he looked like a conquering warrior. A shiver of excitement passed through her. As if sensing it, his eyes narrowed, and he stalked towards her, accepting congratulations as he moved though the well-wishers but never breaking eye contact.
    'You won,' her voice sounded husky to her ears. She wiped her damp palms on her fatigues, unable to stop staring at him.
    'Aye,' he said.  ‘Let’s get out of here.’
    He hurried her past the supply tent and in the shelter of one of the abandoned houses; he cupped the back of her neck with his palm and drew her towards him.
    He claimed her with that kiss. She lost herself in it, and when he released her, she had to struggle to remember where she was. All her attention was on Flynn. The gold flecks in his hazel eyes were like tiny flames. She could lose herself in those eyes, spend an eternity staring into their green-brown depths and never get tired. Flynn’s breath fanned her face.
    In the distance, the crowd continued to buzz with excitement, as they headed for the mess tent, but they might as well have been alone. The perfect silence at the heart of a storm. Her and Flynn. She felt that he could see right through her.
    Summer’s breath hitched as a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. 'You’re hurt.'
    'Do you want to play nurse again?' His question was light-hearted, but there was an undercurrent there, barely leashed control with a promise of something more.
    A memory of their one night together flashed into her head – a fully clothed Flynn taking her against the wall while she wore nothing but her heels. Her stomach clenched. This wasn’t a one-night stand. They were standing in bright sunshine in the middle of a deserted Scottish village. There was no privacy. It would be madness. The logical part of her brain flashed a warning.
    She ignored it.
    'Yes.'
    Summer followed him through the uniformed crowd to the tent. You’re mistaken, she told herself. Nothing is going to happen. Flynn disappeared into the tent and she hovered outside. They couldn’t. Not here. He wouldn’t expect her to …
    Flynn reappeared carrying a rolled-up sleeping bag and a medi-kit, which he handed to her, 'This way.'
    They clambered over the broken stone wall and walked towards the shore. The sun beat down on her head. Behind them, the sound of celebration faded into the distance as the soldiers headed to the mess tent. The air was still, broken only by the sound of sea birds and waves crashing against the shore.
    Flynn paused on the overgrown path to pick some small red berries. 'Wolfberry,' he said as he popped one into his mouth. They’re not quite ripe yet, but when they’re ready …'
    His wicked grin told her that he wasn’t only talking about the fruit. He picked another and offered it to her. Flynn was teasing her. Well, two could play at that game. Summer opened her mouth obediently, sucking on his index finger as she took the glossy red berry from him.
    Flynn groaned.
    'Mmmm,' she said as the taste hit her tongue. It tasted a little like a raspberry, but with a different texture. She savoured it before she swallowed. 'It is heavenly.'
    'You think so? It’s not fully ripe yet.' Flynn laughed and then his expression turned serious. 'Not really ready