"Here you are," he repeated. Damn, what a mess. She was in more trouble than she realized. She just thought her friend was missing. She didn’t know about the other patients who checked into Bexley but didn’t check out. He couldn’t let her put herself in danger. She needed to get out of this place, the sooner the better.
"The best thing for you to do is go back home and let the authorities handle things."
She punched the mattress in frustration. "Did you not just listen to me? No one took my claims seriously. Read my lips. They don’t believe me."
He bit back a smile at her audacity. While he believed her implicitly, he couldn’t reveal his identity and jeopardize the mission. He couldn’t let her know that unofficially, the FBI was on the case.
He stood and swung his leg over the chair. "You are putting yourself in danger, Kellie."
"Rachel," she corrected.
"Right. Rachel. Pack up your stuff, call someone to come get you…what?" He did not like that triumphant look on her face.
"You can help me!"
He shook his head. "No, I really couldn’t."
Shoving the covers down, she crawled out of bed. "Yes, you can."
He backed up.
She prowled closer.
"You have access to the files, you come and go as you please. You can help me."
"No, I can’t."
"Sure you can." That smile could only be called predatory.
His back hit the wall. She swooped in for the kill.
Licking her lips, her fingers walked up his chest. "We will be very careful. You are so big and strong." She squeezed a bicep. "I bet you could do anything."
Ben’s heart hammered against his ribcage. His body reacted to her hot, lithe form pressed intimately against his. All the blood left his brain and he couldn’t think, couldn’t reason.
"Are you trying to seduce me into helping you?"
Pushing to her toes, she tugged his head down and brushed a feather-light kiss against his lips. "Mmm, is it working?"
Since his brain was apparently useless, he let his lower body do the talking. "Hell, yes." Swinging her around, he pinned her against the wall and kissed her like he wanted to the first time he saw her. She whimpered and he was lost. He tasted her deeply, stroking into the velvety softness of her mouth, rubbing his tongue against hers. He couldn’t get enough. He ground his erection against her, seeking relief.
Her hands changed from caressing to demanding, pounding against his chest. He pulled his mouth free, letting her slide down the wall.
"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—"
Her hands cradled her head. "Oh my God, Molly didn’t know either."
What the hell was she talking about? He was kissing her senseless and she was thinking of her missing friend?
"Don’t you see?"
No, he really didn’t. He shook his head.
"They told Molly she was pregnant and she didn’t know how she got that way," Rachel whispered. "What if they raped me when I was drugged?" Her huge eyes locked on Ben’s. "What if I really am pregnant?"
Chapter Ten
Rachel’s head spun and she couldn’t think straight with Ben so close. His breath ruffled her hair and his body heat warmed her insides. She glanced at his face and even in the shadowed darkness, she could see desire etched on his chiseled features.
And oh, could he kiss.
Did she really think she wasn’t a sexual person? One kiss from him and she wanted to strip naked and beg him to take her right here, up against the wall.
When his hand covered her breast, her nipple peaked instantly, begging for his touch. Liquid pooled between her thighs. The one teeny part of her brain that still worked took the leap from foreplay to consummation, hoping he was a trained Boy Scout and came prepared.
That’s when the thought struck her.
What if she didn’t need protection? What if she was already pregnant?
"Rachel, I don’t think it’s possible," Ben argued. "April stayed with you most of the time."
Scrambling to her feet, she pushed away from the wall and paced. She needed distance from him to be able to mull this over. "I was out for a long time and she would have left at some point to eat."
He scratched his chin and then shook his head decisively. "I doubt anything happened. Besides, could the tests show that soon…what, one, two days max?"
She threw her hands up in disgust. "How should I know? I’ve never been pregnant before."
He pinned her with a narrow-eyed glare. "Are you sure there isn’t a possibility that you came here that way?"
Her lips thinned with annoyance. "Unless you believe in Immaculate Conception, then yes, I am sure."
She broke the staring standoff first, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. "I’ve got to get back to the room in case April wakes up."
She started for the door but a strong hand wrapped around her arm. "You can’t go traipsing out of here in the middle of the night. What if someone sees you? How would you explain—and don’t try that sleepwalking excuse," he said when she opened her mouth to say just that.
She frowned.
"And how do you think you are going to get back on the second floor? The doors are locked."
Well, he had her there. She really was bad at this cloak and dagger stuff.
He breezed around her. "Follow me and for God’s sake, for once, be quiet."
It took every bit of maturity and willpower Rachel possessed not to stick her tongue out at his back.
He opened the door and casually strolled into the hall. Nodding that the coast was clear, she scurried after him. He engaged the lock and she noticed he fiddled with something on the top of the doorframe. She flinched when his palm touched the small of her back and he propelled her forward.
Shoving the stairwell door open, he grasped her hand, leading her down the steps. When they arrived on the landing of the second floor, he inserted the key in the lock, held a finger to his lips and twisted the knob. She proceeded to slam into the rapidly-closing door.
Okay, just because she had been brought up with gentlemen who practiced perfect manners, she wasn’t a stickler or anything, but he could have at least held it open for her.
With a muttered, "Sheesh," she reached for the handle. Ben’s voice stopped her cold.
"How are you, Tia?"
She plastered her ear to the glass.
"Much better now that you are here."
Rachel rolled her eyes. The buxom nurse was actually hitting on Ben right in front of her. Well, not exactly in front since she didn’t know Rachel was there. And it wasn’t as if she and Ben were an item or anything. Just because the man was an amazing kisser and her stomach flipped every time she saw him, it meant nothing. Really.
The voices were lower now, intimate. She pressed closer but couldn’t hear a sound. Did they move away?
Gingerly, she checked the door and as she expected, he left it unlatched. A quick peek and she bolted upright, barely managing to stifle an outraged shriek. Ben and Tia had not moved away. In fact, they were directly in front of her, arms wrapped and trying very hard to suck each other’s lips off.
She was outraged. Incensed. He had just kissed her like that not more than five minutes ago. How dare he come out here and do the same thing to Nurse Bimbo. Tia had both hands clamped on his beautifully sculpted tush, right where she wanted her hands.
Wonderful.
Bimbo hiked her leg and fastened it around his hip, giving Rachel a disturbing view of a pink lace thong.
Oh, this was too much. Were they going to drop down to the floor and have wild monkey sex right in front of her? Of all the nerve…something caught her eye. Ben! His open eyes gestured from her to the hall and back. Was he telling her to escape…or was it to get lost? Maybe he wanted privacy while he ravished Nurse Bimbo.
Without making a sound, and besides, who could hear her over Tia’s throaty moans, she squeezed through the opening and tiptoed to her room. She chanced one last look. Ben�
��s lips were securely attached to Bimbo but he watched her like a hawk, maneuvering Tia around so her back was turned to Rachel.
She really ought to be thankful that he created a diversion but all she could think of was how much she wished she were in Nurse Bimbo’s shoes right now.
#
What a hell of a night. First there was the kiss with Rachel. Ben didn’t think he would be able to stop. He knew he should stay away from her but as soon as their lips touched, he was lost. She was so soft and sweet and unexpectedly passionate. His body hardened instantly remembering the feel of her velvety lips and soft tongue.
He had still been half-hard when he stepped into the hall and spotted Tia. He did the only thing he could think of to get Rachel to safety. He kissed the nurse…or rather, let her kiss him.
Unfortunately, Tia mistook his body’s reaction, thinking she was responsible. Thank goodness Rachel left before she shoved her hand down his jeans, hummed appreciatively and fondled him. With a harsh groan, he grabbed her wrist, removed it from his Calvin Klein’s and gently told her he was engaged. She pouted, raking her nails down his chest enticingly. He excused himself and went looking for Rachel.
He found her tucked safely in bed, curled on her side away from the door. He eased out of the room and retreated upstairs.
He couldn’t get over the fact that she committed herself to a mental institution under false pretenses, trying to uncover the events surrounding the disappearance of her friend. Now she was in deep and in trouble. What the hell was he going to do with her?
Get her out, that’s what. He wanted her gone the second she revealed her true purpose at Bexley. He shouldn’t have given in, but her arguments made sense. She had an in that he didn’t, finding out how the institution operated from the patient’s standpoint.
But if she was pregnant, all bets were off.
He glanced at the untouched piece of tape on the door before entering his room. Padding to the fridge, he grabbed a beer and twisted off the cap, tossing it into the wastebasket. Something on the bed caught his eye. Depositing the bottle on the dresser, he picked up the item. Rachel’s cell phone.
Telling himself it wasn’t snooping, just verifying who the phone belonged to, he clicked it on. Parking on the bed, he flipped through the menu, found a photo file and opened it.
The first shot captured two beautiful green-eyed women, the wind lifting their shiny blonde hair as they laughed at the camera, arms wrapped around each other. The date stamp listed the photo as being taken two months earlier. One woman was decidedly younger but there was no doubt they were sisters. And there was no doubt that Rachel was a knockout. She might have tried to change her appearance with a perm and dye, colored contacts and ratty clothes, but she couldn’t disguise beauty like hers. She was magnificent.
Tearing his gaze away from her face, he flipped to the next picture. It was a professionally snapped photo of the same two women along with another female and a tall, serious looking man. Obviously a family photo. The girls were smiling, but not with the same unabashed happiness as the first shot. The mother, an older version of her daughters, has a practiced grin on her face. Jewels dripped from her ears and throat, everything about the family screaming money.
He exited from the photo album and checked the programmed numbers. Both of her parent’s cells were listed, as was Ari’s. The next number belonged to someone named J. Edwin Farnsworth.
Ben eased his grip from the phone, stunned to realize he almost crushed it in his fist. He didn’t even know Rachel Mead, or whatever her last name was, and an hour ago, he assumed she was a patient at the mental hospital. This reaction couldn’t possibly be jealousy. Could it? For all he knew, J. Edwin Farnsworth was her dentist.
Disgusted with his thoughts, he stuffed the phone in his pocket and grabbed his jacket. He needed to check in with his brother and Jake and he didn’t want to do that in the facility, even though his satellite phone couldn’t be traced. He palmed his keys from the dresser and headed outside. After he checked in, he had an errand to run.
#
"Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What do you think of Miss Mead?"
"She has exquisite bone structure, a flawless complexion and a great body."
"Did you see the test results?"
Satisfied laughter. "Of course. She’s absolutely perfect."
Chapter Eleven
Mission accomplished, Ben spent the last half hour shooting the breeze with the guard manning the front gate. The guy seemed genuine and he didn’t detect any weird vibes from him, but damn, could he talk. Ben’s eyes burned with the need for sleep. He spent the better part of the last few nights looking for any clues on the whereabouts of Donelle and the other missing patients.
Extracting himself from the chatty guard, he took out his key to enter through the side entrance when a dark shape approached. His hand instinctively moved to his shoulder holster.
"Hey, Ben." The janitor stopped in front of him and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Hey Peter. What are you doing out this late?"
Peter indicated a building down the street. "I mop the floors at the women’s shelter twice a week." His gaze dropped to the ground. "I have to do it after hours so I don’t scare the women."
Ah, damn. Ben’s heart broke for the kid. He was a nice guy, he didn’t deserve the way people treated him. He made a point of never staring at the scars that marred one side of Peter’s face, but he knew that others weren’t so courteous.
"Are you done?"
Peter bobbed his head.
"Then what do you say we grab a beer, get to know each other." What the hell, sleep was overrated anyway.
Peter’s eyes widened, and then he glanced around the deserted grounds. "Y-you want to get a beer?" Jabbing a finger to his chest, he added, "With me?"
"Yeah, with you buddy," he told the young man, a slap to the shoulder accompanying his words. "What do you say?"
"Sure."
Peter looked at him like he walked on water. He winced inwardly. He didn’t want Peter worshiping him.
He led the younger man to a shiny new SUV, carefully unstrapping his holster as they walked. Though his instinct told him he could trust Peter, he wasn’t ready to answer questions on why he felt the need to carry concealed.
Punching a button to unlock the doors on the loaner vehicle that served as part of his disguise, he eased the gun under the seat before Peter climbed inside. They chatted about the weather and the upcoming football season. Peter was a very bright guy who had never had opportunities because of his disfigurement.
Ben drove to a bar down the street. He had met Jake here after his first day to give him an update. It wasn’t the classiest joint, but they served ice cold beer and everyone minded their own business. He pulled into a parking space and led Peter into the establishment.
Smoke hung in the air in a thick fog. A singer belted out a mournful country tune from the jukebox and a bearded man stood behind the bar wiping out glasses with a look of boredom on his face. A few tables were occupied, as were several stools around the bar. Balls clanged together as two men shot pool next to the wall. Ben held up two fingers and said "Coors," to the bartender.
The bartender kept wiping, making no move to fill the order. Gesturing to Peter with his head he muttered, "Kid got any ID?"
Ben panicked. Peter was of legal age, wasn’t he? He turned to see Peter handing the man his license. The bartender took it from his hand, studied it, looked back at Peter and cringed.
Peter flinched.
It took every ounce of restraint Ben could muster not to reach across the counter and wrap his hands around the man’s scrawny neck.
The bartender tossed the ID on the counter like it was poison and reached under the counter for two bottles. He pried the caps off and slid them across the surface. "Four bucks," he said. Ben tossed him a five, not wanting to leave the inconsiderate man a dollar tip but doing so nonetheless.
"Let’s find a table," he said.
"Hey, watch where you are going you ugly freak."
Ben moved so fast, the man didn’t know what hit him. He pushed the guy up against the wall, his forearm pressing into the other man’s windpipe. The man’s eyes widened with fear as he struggled for oxygen.
"Apologize."
The man snarled and he tightened his grip.
"Okay, okay," the man choked out. "Sorry," he spat in Peter’s direction.
"You know, I don’t think you meant that. Try again."
Knowing he was trapped, the man growled, "I’m sorry."
Ben nodded and released his grip. He indicated the door with his head and mouthed, "Go," to Peter.
The man took a swing.
Expecting the attack, Ben ducked and plowed his shoulder into the man’s gut, ramming him against the wall with a harsh grunt.
Then all hell broke loose.
Fists and bottles and chairs went flying in all directions. Ben turned into one particularly powerful fist and saw stars. He worked his way towards the door, wanting to be gone before the cops arrived. He was just a couple of steps from freedom when the man who started the melee stopped him with a switchblade.
He lifted his arms up in the universal sign of surrender, knowing he couldn’t get to the knife strapped to his ankle in time. The man snarled and charged. Ben positioned himself to deflect the attack when a chair came out of nowhere and flattened the attacker. He looked from the sprawled form on the ground, clearly unconscious, to Peter’s wide eyes.
Ben beamed with pride.
"Nice job." He indicated the door. "Let’s get out of here."
Peter dropped the remains of the splintered chair as he pulled him outside and around the corner. Sirens roared to a stop in front of the bar.
"Thanks, Pete, you saved me back there."
"Are you kidding," Peter scoffed. "You are the one who saved me. No one has ever stuck up for me before."
"Never?"
Peter shook his head.
Damn. He was going to make sure this kid had someone in his corner from now on.
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