“Good morning,” David said. He spoke in an easy, conversational tone, but his pale eyes regarded her with unmasked concern. “How are you feeling?”
“You want the diplomatic answer or the truth?”
“From you?” He paused for a moment, cocking his head slightly as if weighing his answer. “The truth. Always.”
“It feels like there’s a mosh pit inside my head.” She opened the door a little wider and stepped back, gesturing for him to come in. “If I didn’t have to leave for work in less than an hour, I’d go back to bed.”
“Can’t you call in sick?” David asked as he moved inside, wiping his feet on the welcome mat in the foyer. He walked past, and she couldn’t help but notice how nicely his faded Levi’s molded against his body in all the right places. After all, she wasn’t dead, just suffering the ravages of a massive hangover.
“Nope. Too much work, too little time.” She took the bag David offered and settled down on the couch. With her free hand, she picked up the remote and switched on the morning news. The reporter—how could anyone be that perky this early in the morning? —was interviewing an eyewitness to an overnight shooting on Kaley.
“I can relate.” David sank down on the couch beside her, the springs creaking under the weight of two hundred pounds of solid masculinity. His thigh pressed against hers, making her keenly aware of the heat of his body and the crisp scent of his aftershave. “Did you take any aspirin?”
Sarah shook her head and bit back a groan. “Not yet. I wanted to try coffee before moving up to anything solid.” She slumped back against the couch and closed her eyes. Right now she’d give anything to make the left one stop twitching.
David eased the pastry bag from her grip. “In that case, I have just the thing to make you feel better.” He rolled the bag open and waved it under her nose. “In my experience, doughnuts work wonders for a hangover.”
The scent of confectionary sugar wafted up, making her hungry and nauseous at the same time. Hunger won out, and she dug into the bag and pulled out a chocolate doughnut with vanilla icing and sprinkles. She took a bite, not bothering to hold back the moan as creamy, sugary goodness flooded her taste buds.
She opened her eyes to find David watching her, his face a mixture of amusement and something else she couldn’t quite identify. Heat? Nah, impossible. “What is it?”
He shook his head, a hint of a smile creasing the corners of his mouth. “Nothing. I was just trying to remember the last time I saw someone get so much pleasure from a piece of pastry.” He reached over, picked a crumb off her shirt, and popped it into his mouth. His eyes met hers and she could have sworn she saw lust mixed with the gray. “Although I must admit, it is pretty tasty.”
Sarah felt a blush warm her cheeks. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was flirting with her. “Are you this helpful to all of your neighbors?”
“No, just the pretty ones.” David’s expression shifted, as if suddenly remembering something. “Oh, I also came over to give you this.” He dug into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a key ring. More specifically, her key ring. “I took these with me last night so I could lock up on my way out.” He set the keys on the coffee table, on top of the small stack of science journals she hadn’t gotten around to reading.
“Thank you,” she said, disturbed because she couldn’t remember why David needed her keys to lock up. She took another bite of the doughnut, chewing slowly while she worked up the courage to ask the million-dollar question. Part of her really didn’t want to know the answer, but she still felt compelled to satisfy her morbid curiosity before it drove her bonkers.
“About last night,” she finally said, keeping her focus on the morning news anchors so she wouldn’t chicken out. “I could use some help filling in the blanks.”
“What do you remember?”
“Well, I remember getting out of work and finding my tires flat. And then Angelo offered to drive me home, but he insisted on going out to dinner.” She rubbed a hand across her face, trying to remember more but unable. “The rest of it’s a blur.”
David leaned forward, his forearms braced against his knees. He turned his head to face her, his expression unreadable. “What exactly is your relationship with your boss?”
“Are we still being honest?”
“Of course.”
“There is no relationship. He’s a pig.”
David let out a low chuckle, his features warming with what looked like relief. “Good. Nice to know we’re on the same page.”
“Why, what do you mean?” Sarah asked, his response making her nervous. “What did he do?”
“Well, the asshole was putting some major moves on you last night. You didn’t look happy about it, so I sent him packing,” he said by way of explanation. While his voice sounded casual, his furrowed brows and clenched jaw gave a glimpse of his true emotions. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Adam thinks he slipped you a Mickey.”
“He what?” Sarah forced down the last bite of her doughnut, her hunger replaced by a cold, hard knot in the pit of her stomach. Garbled memories flashed through her mind, of Angelo holding her, touching her, jamming his tongue in her mouth.
“Adam used to be a cop, before he started working for me,” David said. “He’s got a knack for spotting people under the influence.”
“Oh.”
She was quiet for a few minutes while the full weight of the information sunk in. She felt sick, angry. Violated. She wanted to hurt somebody, preferably Angelo. Oh yeah, she definitely wanted to hurt Angelo. How dare he drug her? If she could prove it, she’d press charges so fast it would make his head spin. Her thoughts bounced from tangent to tangent before coming full circle on something David had said. “Wait a minute. Adam works for you?”
David nodded. “You got it. He’s bunking on the couch until I get him trained.” He pinned her with an inquisitive look. “Why does that surprise you so much?”
“It doesn’t,” she said quickly, making a point of not meeting his gaze. “I just didn’t know Adam was your employee. I thought he was a … friend or …” She made a vague gesture with her hands. “Something.”
“Nope. He’s my latest and greatest.” David reached into the bag, pulled out a Boston Kreme, and offered it to Sarah. “But don’t tell him I said so. His head’s swelled up enough already.”
“Deal.” She bit into the pastry, the creamy filling squishing out along the sides. She licked it up, and then blushed when she noticed David watching her with expressed interest. Yep, definitely not gay. The knowledge left her acutely aware of how horrible she must have looked. “So … uh … what happened after Angelo left?”
“We changed out your tires and drove you home. I have your flats, by the way. It wouldn’t hurt for you to get one of them patched up to leave in your trunk, just in case something like this ever happens again.” He pulled the last doughnut from the bag and took a bite. “I’ve got to admit, you’re the happiest drunk I’ve ever seen.”
“I am?” Oh dear God, what had she done? Her pulse raced with panic as her imagination ran wild. Somehow, it always seemed worse when other people told you about the stupid things you’d done while under the influence. It hadn’t happened since her junior year of college, and she’d sworn it would never happen again. She took a deep, steadying breath, hoping she hadn’t done anything too embarrassing. “What did I do?”
David’s pale eyes locked with hers, and she found humor, and affection, and a hint of masculine desire. “Nothing for you to be ashamed of,” he said, his voice taking on a tone she hadn’t heard from him before. His mouth curved up a little on one side. “You were very happy, and carefree, and totally relaxed. I think I liked it.”
She suspected he was holding something back, but decided not to press the issue. At least this way she maintained plausible deniability. “Well, I guess that’s okay, as long as I didn’t strip down to my underwear and sing ‘Margaritaville’ at the top of my lungs.” His grin
widened to a smile, and her heart dropped down to her stomach. “Oh God, please tell me I didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t, although the idea sounds promising.” His eyes lit with mischief when he laughed, and a rush of heat flooded her body, settling low and spreading at an alarming rate. “Maybe next time.”
Outside, a car horn sounded, honking twice.
David’s smile faded. He checked his watch, and a tired expression replaced the humor. “It sounds like Adam’s getting restless.” He blew out a breath as he pushed up from the couch, leaving Sarah with an unexpected feeling of loss. “I told him I’d only be up here long enough to make sure you were okay.” He gave her a long appraising look, the concern etched into his features. “You sure you’re going to be all right? You still look a little pale.”
Sarah nodded, giving him the warmest smile she could muster while her head thumped like a kettledrum. “I’ll be fine. Between the coffee and doughnuts, I should be able to pass for human by the time I get to work.”
He didn’t look convinced, but let the matter drop.
“I guess this makes us even,” she said as she watched him move toward the door.
David froze where he stood, his hand wrapped around the knob. He turned back toward her, a look of confusion on his face. “It does?”
“Well, sure. I patched you up, and you saved me from my grabby boss.”
His brows wrinkled as if he didn’t buy into her logic but didn’t intend to argue the point. “If you say so.”
He stared at her for a few beats, his lips pressed into a thin line. Then he muttered something under his breath and walked back to the couch. Bending over, he pressed a kiss against her forehead. “If you need anything, give me a call. My number’s on the message pad by the phone.”
The memories slowly returned while Sarah got ready for work. Little by little, scenes took shape and locked into place, recreating the prior evening’s events in her mind. There were still a few noticeable gaps, but she had enough to form a cohesive picture. And as the details emerged with greater clarity, her anger mounted.
By the time she turned on to the main road leading to Cava Tech, her mood had downgraded from moderately sour to borderline homicidal. Even the idiot in the bunny outfit had enough sense to jump out of the way when she pulled up to the gate. With a pot of coffee and two doughnuts churning in her system, she was both pissed off and jittery, a volatile combination in any workplace.
Consumed with a single-minded determination, she stalked inside the building, searching for the object of her wrath. She found Angelo in the front office, deep in conversation with one of the lead researchers from the oncology wing. The sight of him triggered a fresh wave of resentment, and it took every ounce of self-control to push back the urge to blast him with her pepper spray.
“Good morning, Ms. Griffith. Are you feeling all right? You look a little pale,” Angelo said when he noticed her approaching. The bastard had the nerve to look concerned.
“We have to talk,” Sarah bit out, barely capable of controlling her temper. Her stomach gurgled, making her regret that last cup of coffee. “Now.”
“Yes, we do.” Angelo excused himself and led her down the hall to his office. He rounded the desk and motioned for her to take the chair on the opposite side. “I have some serious concerns about your neighbor. I think he may be dangerous.”
Sarah didn’t bother sitting down. One look at Angelo’s feigned concern and she lost all sense of restraint. “You son of a bitch. You drugged me.”
His eyes widened briefly, telling her everything she needed to know. Angelo recovered quickly, his expression turning intentionally blank. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, his Italian accent becoming more pronounced.
Why was she not surprised by his denial? “Bullshit.”
“Sarah, really. There is no reason to resort to such vulgarities.” He shook his head and made a sour face. “So low class.”
“Oh, I think there’s plenty of reasons. You’ve been trying to get into my pants for months.” She planted her hands on his desk, leaning over so her face came within inches of his. “What did you put in my drink? And don’t waste my time denying it.”
“How dare you insult me with these ridiculous accusations?” His voice turned cold and steely, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Your behavior is awfully close to insubordination.”
“And your behavior is awfully close to attempted rape.”
Angelo’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Even if I did drug you—which I did not—you have no evidence to substantiate your ridiculous claims.” A sneer curled his lips as he folded his arms across his chest. “Besides, who would believe you? I am a distinguished member of the scientific community. My work has been recognized in six countries across three continents. You, on the other hand, are nothing but a low-level lab rat, trying to make a name for herself.”
Sarah’s blood pressure shot so high her vision flashed red. Her stomach gurgled again, sending out a ripple of nausea. Or was it disgust? At this point, it was hard to tell the difference. “There have been witnesses.”
“Witnesses to what?” The sneer shifted to a smug smile. “Do you honestly think anyone in this facility will testify on your behalf?”
“Jackie would.” Sarah took a deep breath when she noticed her hands were shaking. “She’s seen it happen plenty of times.”
“Are you sure about that?” Angelo settled back in his chair, his posture relaxing as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “In spite of her numerous deficiencies, Jacqueline is an intelligent woman. I believe her sense of self-preservation outweighs any perceived loyalty on your behalf.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
But then she met his confident gaze, and she knew he’d do it in a heartbeat. Hell, she’d be willing to bet he’d already done it to some other poor soul. If Jackie verified her claims of harassment, she’d be out the door before her chair had a chance to get cold. And with two kids at home, the job—and its healthy paycheck—was essential to her survival.
Angelo’s features hardened, giving Sarah a glimpse of the ruthless nature he normally kept hidden behind a thick veneer of charm and good manners. “Try me.”
She glared at him with unblinking eyes; so angry she could spit nails. When push came to shove, she had no way of proving her accusations without putting her friend’s livelihood in jeopardy. Not to mention trashing her own career in the process. Another wave of nausea rippled through her, and she swallowed hard to force back the bile. “If you ever lay a hand on me again, so help me God I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” He had the gall to look amused, which made her even madder. He rose from his chair and rounded the desk. “I don’t understand why you insist on making things difficult for yourself.” He stepped closer, lightly stroking the side of her jaw with the backs of his knuckles. “Instead of fighting, we could be enjoying each other’s company.”
“Get bent.” She swatted his hand away. “And don’t you ever touch me again.”
Sarah stormed out of Angelo’s office in a last-ditch effort to salvage the remaining shreds of her dignity. Biting the inside of her cheek, she fought back the wave of emotions threatening to trigger a meltdown of epic proportions. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
She’d just walked past his secretary when she heard Angelo call her name.
“Oh Sarah?” His tone was rich with a sugary sweetness that made her stomach lurch. “I forgot to tell you something.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Sarah?”
After a slow count to ten, she turned in his direction. “What?”
“Jacobsen will be taking over in Lab Two, starting this afternoon. Please make sure to give him all of your notes pertaining to the progress of the trials.”
To add insult to injury, the bastard was stripping her of the lead position in her own lab. The news left her shocked, outraged, and angr
ier than she’d ever felt in her entire life. “What? Why? The tests are back on track. We’re only two weeks away from beginning the live trials.”
“Yes, but after the problems with contamination, I aim to ensure nothing else goes wrong.”
“But it’s my research! I’ve worked on this project for over a year!”
“Yes, but Jacobsen’s been here longer, therefore he has seniority. He also has more experience. I want him in charge. You’ll work as his assistant.”
Translation: Since you’re not going to play ball, I’m going to make your life miserable.
She was on the receiving end of payback, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Not if she planned on a future in the biomedical research community. One word from Angelo and her career was dead on arrival.
Sarah stalked back across the reception area, ignoring the curious look from Angelo’s secretary. She didn’t want to leave without some parting shot, to let him know that even though he held the upper hand, he hadn’t crushed her spirit. No way would she ever give in to his disgusting demands, even if it meant leaving Cava Tech and working as a door greeter at Walmart.
But in the end, she just threw up on his shoes.
chapter 9
At the end of the day, all David wanted was a hot shower and a cold beer. Oh, and a box of Brillo to scrub the last hour from his brain.
Whenever he thought he’d seen everything, the universe always managed to come up with unique and disturbing ways of broadening his horizons. Humans were the most contradictory of species, capable of both breathtaking generosity and incalculable cruelty. Today’s reap served to drive the latter point home. “If I never see another wood chipper, I’ll die a happy man.”
“You’re telling me.” Adam glanced down at his blood-splattered shirt and grimaced. “No amount of Clorox is going to get these stains out.”
“I warned you about getting too close.” David shook his head as he toed off his running shoes. Good thing the shoes and pants were dark enough to conceal the bloodstains; a thorough washing and they’d be good to go. His shirt, on the other hand, was a complete loss.
Grave Intentions Page 11
