The Hunter Brothers Complete Box Set

by Parker, M. S.

  “You have me at a disadvantage,” I said, hoping the change of topic would distract her from my momentary lapse of judgment. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

  “Addison Kilar.” She held out her hand, then dropped it before I had a chance to shake it.

  “And you work here?”

  “Sort of.”

  She had an accent, I realized, and it wasn’t a Southern one. I couldn’t quite place it, but I’d heard it somewhere before.

  “How does one ‘sort of’ work here?”

  “I’m an intern,” she said. “It’s part of me finishing up my doctorate. Well, finishing up my thesis, more accurately. My advisor thought it’d look better if I was working here while writing rather than me not doing anything but still not able to finish the damn thing.” She looked away and fidgeted with one of her curls. “I’m sorry, Dr. Hunter. Sometimes my mouth just runs away with me. I’ll go get something to clean this up and then get another coffee for Miss Kemyss. You can give me a dry-cleaning bill, or I can pay for your shirt to be replaced. It was my fault for not watching where I was going.”

  “Nonsense,” I said. “I wasn’t paying attention either. It’s as much my fault as yours.”

  She shook her head. “It’s completely my fault. I was trying to work through some of my writer’s block.”

  “You said you’re working on your thesis?” I drew her attention away from blaming herself. “What’s it about?”

  “The link between genetics and infection.” She looked down at herself, and then at me again. “Um…I think I should find something I can use to clean this up.”

  I shook my head, frowning. “You’re an intern, not a janitor. And at the CDC, that is what’s important. They have all sorts of guidelines they must follow and paperwork to fill out. In our labs, we have different procedures, but for public areas, we have to alert the janitorial staff and let them handle it.”

  Her eyes widened. “For coffee?”

  “To make sure the spill was indeed coffee and soapy water, and not something that would turn us all into zombies or wipe out the world.”

  She looked as startled by my attempt to joke as I was.

  “Okay. I’ll tell them what happened.”

  “Have you eaten lunch yet?” The question burst out of my mouth, leaving me wondering if something had happened to my brain today to cause me to act so out of character with this stranger.

  “No, I just got back from the lunch run.” An expression of horror crossed her face. “I’m so sorry! Miss Kemyss didn’t show me your office on my tour, and I completely spaced when I went around. I didn’t even think about your lunch–”

  Something didn’t sound right. Why was an intern so close to finishing her doctoral thesis doing those sorts of errands? I needed to find out more information. Plus, it appeared she was working on something close to my own wheelhouse, and I wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that I couldn’t benefit from another person’s perspective.

  “I was just thinking about getting lunch,” I said. “Would you join me? I’d like to discuss your thesis, and perhaps pick your brains about a problem I’m currently having.”

  Now she looked like she was going to throw up. Maybe lunch hadn’t been a good suggestion after all.

  Or maybe her stomach was twisting like mine, without explanation.

  “That would…I mean…thank you, Dr. Hunter. I’ll have to go ask Miss Kemyss, but I would be honored to have lunch with you.”

  “Pansy? Why do you need to ask her about lunch?” Pansy wouldn’t have a doctorate student as an intern if she’d had an intern at all.

  Her expression was puzzled. “She’s my supervisor. I’ll let her know I’ll be going to lunch as soon as I…” she looked down and frowned, “do something with my shirt.”

  I managed not to scowl. I didn’t want her to think I was mad at her. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Pansy, however, I was going to have a word with. “Pansy isn’t your supervisor. Interns at your level are assigned to specific doctors. You should have gotten a letter.”

  “I did,” she admitted, chewing on her bottom lip. “It said I’d be working under you.”

  I’d heard enough. “I’ll speak with Pansy and let her know that I’ll be taking over your supervision from here on out. Do you have another shirt to change into?”

  Addison shook her head. “I didn’t think to bring one.”

  “That’s always a good idea,” I said. “Because if it’s not coffee, it could be a contamination issue where all of your clothes have to be destroyed.”

  She stared at me. “Does that happen often?”

  I thought for a moment. “Three times since I started working here, but all precautionary.” I pulled my shirt away from my skin, only now just realizing how uncomfortable I was. “We keep a few extra items of clothing in the storage room down the hall and to the left, second door on the right. We just ask that anyone who has to take anything washes it and returns it; or replaces it with something new.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m going to change as well, and then I’ll meet you at the front doors in fifteen minutes. Will that be enough time for you?” She didn’t appear to be one of those women who took forever to get ready but looks could be deceiving.

  “Yes, that’s plenty of time.” She smiled, looking relieved. “Thank you, Dr. Hunter.”

  “Cai,” I said, returning her smile. “There are some people here who love to hear the word doctor before their name, but I prefer Cai.”

  “I prefer Addison.” The color that had faded from her cheeks rushed back. “For me, I mean. I prefer Addison to Miss Kilar.”

  “Now that we have that squared away, what do you say we take care of this mess and get some lunch?” I glanced toward the part of the corridor that would take me to Pansy’s office. “I’ll have Pansy call the janitors after I’ve cleared up this misunderstanding regarding your supervision.”

  As Addison hurried off, I sighed. Pansy and I had gone to college together, and I’d tutored her on and off while she’d worked on her master’s degree in organic chemistry. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been accepted into the doctorate program, but that hadn’t stopped her from wanting to do some good in the world. She applied for a position at the CDC right after I was hired, and even though most of her job was compiling and recording data, it was important work.

  Which was why I didn’t understand her current behavior. If Addison had been an undergrad or hired as an assistant, running errands would have fallen in her purview, but an intern with Addison’s qualifications should be working in a lab. I supposed it was possible that Addison hadn’t felt comfortable telling Pansy that she’d been assigned to me, but Pansy knew how things worked. She should have asked immediately if Addison knew who she was working under.

  I wasn’t looking forward to reminding her that we had procedures for a reason. But, I told myself, it was better for me to talk to her about it rather than reporting her to HR. I understood that the rules and hierarchy existed for a reason, but in this case, I thought it wasn’t worth all the hassle when a reminder would do.

  Besides, filling out the paperwork would take a couple hours at least, and I’d rather spend the time talking to my new intern about her paper and my experiment. I couldn’t wait to see what that brain of hers could do.

  Six

  Addison

  Breathe.

  Breathe.

  Inhaling and exhaling was one of those things that people learned at birth, but I was twenty-two. I should know how to do this, but now, I was feeling fortunate to be able to put one foot in front of the other without making a fool out of myself. Again.

  Cai Hunter.

  I was going to lunch with Cai Hunter.

  I had just told Cai Hunter about my thesis, and he sounded quite interested.

  I’d also spilled coffee all over him and then babbled on about the most, inane things, including the damn zombie apocalypse.

  I was mortified.

&nb
sp; But I was also elated.

  Because even though I’d made a complete ass of myself, he still wanted to talk to me.

  Cai Hunter wanted to talk to me.

  I kept repeating the sentence as I walked down the hall in search of the room with clean clothes. I kept repeating it as I changed, and as I went back to the front door, but I still couldn’t believe it.

  I’d been practically worshipping him since I was thirteen-years-old and first saw him on the cover of some science magazine at school. I’d followed his career ever since, digging for every bit of information I could find, but nothing could have prepared me for seeing him in the flesh.

  And what magnificent flesh it was too. I wasn’t the sort of woman who drooled over every cute guy, but Dr. Hunter – Cai – was far beyond cute. He was gorgeous.

  As I approached I slowed my steps, so I could take him in, hoping that by the time I reached him, I would somehow be immune to whatever it was about him that turned me into a jabbering idiot.

  “I see you found a nice shirt in our stash.”

  He gestured to the rather garish, long-sleeved yellow blouse I was now wearing.

  “It was the only thing in my size,” I said. “When you’re all arms and legs, like me, clothes are a pain in the ass to find.”

  Shit. That hadn’t been professional.

  “I know the feeling,” he said with a smile.

  “Of course, you do,” I said. “You’re what, six-five?”

  He nodded. “Good guess.”

  I didn’t tell him that I’d read a profile on him three years ago. He’d think I was a stalker or something. If I told him I just had a good memory, he might think I was bragging.

  I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.

  “Looks like it’s raining. Do you want to drive separately, or are you okay riding with me?”

  “I don’t know my way around,” I admitted. “I just moved to Atlanta on Saturday.”

  “Then you’ll ride with me.” He started walking toward the parking garage. “Where are you from?”

  “Minnesota.”

  It was strangely easy to talk to him, and the silence between us was comfortable too. The best part was that the whole car smelled like him too. Some sort of softly-scented soap and a hint of something more primal that I suspected was his natural scent.

  As he drove us to our destination, he pointed out various parts of the city, much like a tour guide. But instead of giving me a history lesson or explaining the architecture, he always had some scientific bit of information. If I hadn’t been able to see the sincere expression on his face, I would’ve thought he was making things up.

  He surprised me as he pulled into a place called Amalfi Pizza. I’d had him pegged as a health nut, the sort of person who ate things like wheat grass and flaxseed. Gourmet pizza was not what I’d been thinking. My bank account probably wouldn’t like this much, but it was just one meal.

  And it was with Cai Hunter.

  We were seated across from each other at a table small enough that my knees kept brushing his. We probably should’ve asked for a bigger table, but I was glad he hadn’t. I knew this was one hundred percent work-related, but I planned on enjoying every minute of the one-on-one time I got to spend with him.

  “You said that your thesis was about genetics and infection?” he asked after we gave the waiter our orders.

  “Yes.” I spread a napkin on my lap, fidgeting with the corner of the cloth. “I have this theory about how, if we better understood a link between genetics and infection, we could focus on correcting the genes rather than trying to eliminate the viruses. Gene therapy could be the new vaccine. Manipulate the genetic code in a baby, and they’d never get sick. Do it right, and they could pass the genes on to their descendants. It could eventually lead to an elimination of all illness. Of course, we’d have to factor in for mutations and a percentage of the population who either can’t or won’t consent to the gene therapy–”

  My thought trailed off when I realized he was staring at me with something that looked a lot like fascination on his face.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with a half-smile. “I’ve just never heard anyone talk like that before.”

  Heat flooded my face, and I reached for my water, fingers bumping against the cold glass. I stopped myself before I knocked it over.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “I tend to talk a lot when–”

  “When you’re nervous,” he finished with a kind smile. “There’s no need to be anxious. I believe that we’ll work well together. I don’t have interns working for me often because I have high intellectual standards. I won’t send you out on pointless errands, but I will expect contributions. You’ve already proven that you see far-reaching effects rather than just an immediate resolution. From what I’ve seen so far, you have one of the most amazing minds I’ve ever encountered.”

  “I have?” The compliment made me catch my breath. I knew I was smart but hearing it from someone like him…it would’ve had me babbling again if the waiter hadn’t come back with our drinks, breaking the moment.

  And it was a good thing too, because whatever had been thickening the air between us hadn’t been professional, and I needed us to be professional.

  No matter how gorgeous he was.

  Seven

  Cai

  I peered through the lens of the microscope and jotted down my findings on my notepad. Some of the other doctors liked to dictate their notes, but I’d never liked the sound of my own voice. Besides, it was a lot quicker to use the shorthand I created in college to take my own notes this way. My handwriting sucked, but I typed out my own notes, so no one complained about them.

  “I finished transcribing your notes.”

  I jerked my head up. Addison had been here for five days now, and I still sometimes forgot she was here.

  Except that wasn’t entirely accurate. While my mind might’ve been focused on my work, some part of me was always aware of her presence. When she wasn’t anxious she was quiet, which meant she could – and often did – show up at my side, startling me in the process.

  I frowned, what she’d said finally registering. “What was that?”

  She gave me a sheepish smile that I was starting to understand meant that she’d taken a bit of liberty with the freedom I gave her, but now she wasn’t so sure whatever it was she’d done wouldn’t get her into trouble.

  “I finished transcribing your notes from this week,” she repeated, her eyes darting around, landing on everything except me.

  I turned around until I was facing her and crossed my arms, more curious than annoyed. Part of her contract included a non-disclosure agreement regarding anything she might see or hear during her internship, so I didn’t need to worry about that.

  “How did you do that?” I asked, studying her closely. “I created my own shorthand in college. No one else uses it because I’ve never told anyone else how to read it.”

  She reached up and tugged at a curl. “I might’ve cracked your code.”

  Now, I was intrigued. I stood up, grimacing at how stiff my legs were. I really should get up and stretch more often. “How did you manage that? I don’t have a cipher written out anywhere.”

  She shuffled her feet, clasped her hands behind her back, and flicked a quick glance up at me.

  Fuck.

  She looked so submissive just then. Her posture, the way she dipped her head. All of it screamed at me to step into her personal space, to push back those sunset-curls, and tell her to tip her head back…

  “I remember everything I see,” she explained. “It can make my head really crowded. When I was a kid, I created my own sort of mental shorthand. Like compressing files on a computer. I can access them, when they aren’t all pushing to the front.”

  “Interesting, but I don’t understand how that translates into you figuring out in a week how to read something that I spent six months developing.”

  “In an interview with Science Today, you mentioned your shortha
nd,” she continued. “And there was a picture of something you’d written during the interview. When I was straightening your desk on Monday, I saw a few pages of your handwritten notes. On Tuesday, you had one of the transcribed files pulled up on your computer, and I saw it when I came up to ask you something. Once I had that in my head, connecting the dots wasn’t difficult.”

  I crossed the space between us until barely a foot remained. “I knew you were brilliant from the first moment you started speaking, but this is beyond anything I could have predicted.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and I knew I’d embarrassed her. She deserved the compliment though. I’d done well academically, augmenting natural intelligence with hard work, but I didn’t have a mind like hers.

  “It was all your work,” she said. “I mean, all I did was crack the code. You actually created it.”

  I reached out and hooked a finger under her chin, raising her face until she looked directly at me. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

  The moment held, froze…and then shattered.

  I dropped my hand and took a step back. What was it about this young woman that made me not only enjoy spending time in her presence but wanting to touch her? Innocent touches, like a brush of my fingers across her cheek, or putting my hand on her arm. I’d never been the sort of person who sought out physical contact, but with her, it was a fight to keep my hands to myself.

  I didn’t want to have sex with her. That would be far too cliché. The doctor sleeping with his intern. Even if it hadn’t been cliché, I couldn’t do it. She was even younger than I originally thought. Most people working on their doctorate were in their mid-twenties, but this child prodigy was only twenty-two. A college senior when she was just sixteen, she completed her graduate degree in only eighteen months before plowing through her doctoral program in near record time.

  Twenty-two. Damn.

  Too young for me.

  Even though I knew there were plenty of couples with that age gap or more.