by Mallory Kane
Because when he told her, he would lose her. She would view his confession as an indication of a mental problem, and she’d already stated with stark certainty that she would never get personally involved with anyone like that.
He could tell her the connection he and his brother shared was not a delusion, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth. The truth was, he wasn’t sure.
He scooped up the blueprint and folded it. “Come on. I’ll tell you what Mitch said on the way. If someone can get into your apartment, then we need to wrap this up. You’re in danger, and we’re running out of time.”
Despite his promise to tell her about his conversation with Mitch, Eric remained quiet as they sneaked down to the basement. Once there, he seemed distracted as he studied the wall beside the elevators.
He stepped over and flattened his palms against the wall.
Rachel couldn’t take her eyes off him. The shadows cast by the faint emergency lights lining the corridors lent a harsh beauty to his features. Her gaze played over his short, straight nose, his high cheekbones, his wide mouth.
“What are you doing?” she asked, watching him move sideways along the wall.
Without slowing his examination, he spoke quietly. “If there’s anything behind here, there has to be a way to…” His voice trailed off and his brows lowered into a frown.
“I can’t quite—” he whispered.
Rachel watched in fascination and growing apprehension as he continued his methodical search, occasionally muttering to himself. He frightened her when he acted like this. She had the sense he was listening to something or someone she couldn’t hear.
It reminded her of her mother’s delusions, when the mania would take over her mind.
“Eric, tell me what Mitch said.” She had to know that he was grounded in reality. Plus, she was also worried about Caleb.
Eric closed his eyes. His hands continued to roam over the plaster. “He said one of the IDs you gave Natasha turned out to be Misty Norwood.”
“Misty! She is real.”
He angled his head toward her. “I told you my brother doesn’t lie.”
“Is Misty okay? What happened to her?”
“All we know so far is that her parents placed her in the Meadows after a suicide attempt. They became concerned by some of the things she told them, and took her home.”
Helpless anger burned through Rachel. “Dr. Metzger told Caleb she was dead.”
Eric’s jaw ticced. “He wanted to observe Caleb’s reaction.”
“What about Caleb? Did Mitch say he was worse?”
The tic in Eric’s jaw flared into a clench. He nodded. “He’s having seizures.”
“Oh, no.” They were running out of time. Seizures could be a symptom of several problems, but they definitely indicated that Caleb’s condition was worsening.
“They’re becoming more frequent.”
“Mitch told you that?”
Eric didn’t answer. He walked around the corner, into a dimly lit corridor.
Rachel followed him. The odor of dirt and mildew increased as they grew closer to the front of the building. Down the corridor, beyond the circle of the last lights, she saw the end of the finished portion of the basement and the beginning of the crawl space.
In the middle of the west wall was a recessed area.
She shook her head. “There was no alcove indicated on the blueprint.”
He closed his fist and lightly rapped on the wall.
She heard the metallic sound.
He sent her a triumphant glance. “This is it.”
Rachel’s heart hammered in her chest. “The secret lab?”
He shrugged. “Let me have the flashlight.”
He swept the bright light methodically across the entire surface of the alcove. “See the seam? It’s barely visible.”
Rachel squinted. “All I see are the inside corners of the alcove.”
“That’s it. That’s the door, I’m sure.” He looked around. “This section of the basement is almost totally deserted.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “One of the service elevators comes down inside here.”
“Inside? Why do you think that?” she asked.
He sent her a sharp glance. “Seems logical.”
“So let’s go in.” A thrill fluttered in Rachel’s throat. Was she about to find out that her idol, Gerhardt Metzger, was really the monster Caleb had said he was? She clutched the straps of her backpack until her fingers ached.
“I don’t think we dare, until we know where Metzger is.”
“But we have no way of knowing that.”
“And if we open this door and he’s in there, what are you going to say to him then?”
Chapter Ten
Metzger could be in there.
Rachel pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She had no answer for Eric. If Metzger was in there, then everything Caleb had said was true, and the dream that had sustained her since she was a little girl—the dream of helping to find a cure for mental illness, would be crushed.
“We could wait until after midnight. Maybe even two o’clock. When we can be relatively sure the doctor’s asleep.”
Eric nodded grimly. “What time is it now?”
Rachel looked at her watch. “Oh, it’s almost eleven. I had no idea we’d been gone so long. You’d better get back to your room.”
“Right. Let’s go.”
“I’ll stay here. I want to search the Medical Records room again. I have to figure out what’s in the injections. For Caleb’s sake.”
“No.” Eric was adamant. “You’re not going anywhere in this building without me. We have to be doubly careful.”
“It doesn’t make sense for you to be with me every second. It’s not even possible. You know we’re running out of time. By myself, I can search longer. I wouldn’t have to watch the clock so closely.”
“I said no.”
Irritation flared within her at his flat refusal to discuss the matter. “You know I’m right—”
The look on Eric’s face stopped her. His jaw was set. His eyes were as dark and hard as obsidian. She’d never win.
She glared at him. “What’s your idea, then? Like I said before, are you going to hide me under your bed until two o’clock?”
“If I have to.”
That sounded like a threat. Her ears burning with frustration, Rachel glared at him. “I know what this is about. You don’t trust me.”
Eric blinked and turned away, heading for the stairwell. “Not as far as I can throw you,” he said flatly. There was a part of him that worried about how she’d react when she had proof that Metzger was using innocent patients for his vile experiments. For Metzger, obviously the end justified the means.
He’d seen in Rachel’s eyes how passionate she was about finding a cure for mental illness. Would the end justify the means for her, too?
He’d only known her for five days, but her tenderness with his brother and her fierce protective attitude toward her patients made him believe she would never intentionally hurt them.
His biggest concern, however, was for her safety. He couldn’t bear the idea of her sneaking around alone in this snake pit full of secrets.
After slipping up the service stairs and back to the neurology ward, Eric held out a cautionary hand to stop Rachel as he angled his head around the corner. The substitute nurse was checking rooms at the other end of the hall.
“The nurse is making her rounds. We can get across the hall if we hurry. I’ll go first, then let you know when you can follow. Your com unit is working, right?” he said under his breath.
“Right.” Her voice in his ear carried a note of irritation, maybe even anger. But that didn’t bother him. Let her be angry with him. Let her think he doubted her competence. Let her even believe he didn’t trust her.
As long as she was safe.
He checked the hall again, then dashed around the corner and down the hall to his room.
“Are you
ready?” he asked after he slipped inside. He opened the door a crack and met her gaze.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He nodded and carefully pushed the door shut. When he was right beside her, he sometimes forgot the sensation of hearing her voice inside his head. It made him feel as if they existed deep within each other, as close as lovers. Closer.
The thought sent blood rushing through his veins. He felt himself become aroused. Gritting his teeth, he forced his thoughts back to the danger of their situation and the real reason he was doing this. It was for Caleb.
He checked the hall. The nurse stuck her head in another door. “Now! Hurry!”
She raced across the hall, her blue eyes flashing with fear. As she reached the doorway he jerked her inside and pushed the door closed. It creaked lightly.
“I saw the nurse.” Rachel’s body radiated tension. “Do you think she saw me?”
“We’ll know soon enough.” He felt her shiver.
“I should have stayed downstairs.”
“Shh,” he whispered, holding up a hand. He closed his eyes and stood completely still, his entire concentration on the sounds outside his door.
Rachel watched Eric in fascination. His face was calm, as if he was meditating, but his body was poised, alert, ready for anything. She listened, but she couldn’t hear a sound.
He held a finger to his lips and pointed toward the bathroom. He wanted her to hide in there, like she had the other night.
She nodded and started around him.
All at once, Eric caught her waist. Before she could process what was happening, she flew through the air and landed on his narrow bed. He flipped a blanket up and over her, and plopped down beside her, his body between her and the door.
“Shh.” His warning hissed in her ear as he slid under the edge of the blanket and bent one leg over her thighs. He curled his long, broad-shouldered body around her, rested his head on top of hers and lay completely still.
The door to his room squealed as it opened.
Rachel’s heart pounded so loudly she was sure it echoed off the walls. Her muscles screamed with the effort of lying still. She was afraid to breathe.
Eric’s body shielded her, heavy and hot. He appeared deceptively relaxed, but his limbs were as tense and tight as coiled springs.
Rachel made herself as small as possible. She couldn’t see anything, with the blanket and Eric’s body between her and the door, but she had an impression of a sliver of light growing brighter. Cringing deeper into the mattress, she held her breath and waited. If she were caught, both of them would be locked up. Not for the first time since she’d agreed to help the FBI, Rachel pictured her career going up in smoke.
“Caleb?”
Rachel felt Eric tense, felt his heart beating strong and fast against her palms.
“Hmm?” he murmured, lifting his head just slightly to acknowledge the nurse.
“Did I see you sneaking into your room?”
“No, ma’am. I’m in bed.”
“Do you need a sleeping pill?”
He sighed. “I’m fine. Dreaming about you.” His voice was slurred and drowsy.
The nurse chuckled softly. “All right then. Go to sleep,” she said kindly. She sounded like a nicer person than Gracie.
Rachel lay rigid, holding her breath, as the light narrowed bit by bit until it disappeared and she heard the scrape of metal against metal, and knew the door was closed.
She breathed and realized her nose was tucked into the hollow of Eric’s throat. Her nostrils filled with the smell of soap and clean linens and warm skin. She felt him swallow, felt his relieved sigh against her forehead. She knew when the sigh turn into a shudder of desire. Against her thighs she felt the heavy growing proof that he wanted her.
Each time they were close, each time she felt his fiercely controlled desire, she grew more curious, more bold, and less able to control her own response to his strong, sexy body.
She moved slightly, turning her body fully toward him, placing herself between his legs, an invitation, if he chose to acknowledge it.
His strength, his obvious attraction to her, the imminent danger of discovery, all combined to fill her with a need for release that she would never find in verbal assurances or even the promise of safety his closeness gave her.
She had to have more.
“What are you doing?” he whispered through her com unit, his breath barely noticeable against her cheek.
She put her fingers against his lips. “Don’t talk. Just hold me.”
He strained away and his lips moved against her fingers as he spoke. “We can’t afford to do this. It’s too dangerous.”
With a shock, Rachel admitted to herself that the danger was part of the reason she wanted to. Her limited experience had been with safe, ordinary, even dull men—men whose every action was carefully thought out, planned. Men she’d chosen because their structured lives seemed the exact opposite of the way she’d grown up.
Eric was by no means ordinary. And although she felt safer with him than she’d ever felt, she knew he was a dangerous man in a dangerous profession. And that excited her, too.
“The nurse won’t be back,” Rachel whispered, tracing the outline of his mouth with her index finger. “And we have two hours to kill.” Her finger teased his lower lip.
He caught her hand. “Please don’t. I don’t have the strength to stop you.”
“I don’t want you to stop me. I want you to take me away from this insane place, even if it’s for just a few minutes. Make me believe that this isn’t reality.” She lifted her head and sought his lips.
With a shaky sigh, he gave her what she wanted, a kiss to die for. His mouth explored hers—gentle, questioning, then suddenly—as if he couldn’t stop himself, fiercely desperate. He kissed her deeply, sliding his hand around her neck in a protective caress, holding her close, holding nothing back.
Rachel felt drowned, drugged. Her head swirled with his quiet moans, her body felt at once languorous and alive. She pulled his head closer as his mouth left hers and trailed to her jaw.
“This can’t happen,” he said against her neck. “You don’t want me. You just want comfort.”
“Shh. I do want you. Please. I swear I won’t ask you for more than this.”
He lifted his head, and Rachel saw the anguish in his eyes.
“Oh, no, Eric.” She cradled his face in her hands. “Don’t think—”
He touched her lip with his thumb, silencing her. “I understand. You’re asking for normal. For an escape from the madness.” He shook his head. “I can’t promise you that.”
His tone struck fear in her heart. She ignored the question that rose in the back of her mind, the question that asked why he wouldn’t even give her the illusion of normal. Instead she pulled his head down so her mouth brushed his. “Don’t promise me anything. Just love me.”
He sighed raggedly. “I can do that,” he whispered.
He kissed her again, sucking away her fear and feeding her some of the control that seemed so much a part of him. He slid his hand under her top and lightly traced her waist, then spread his fingers along her ribs as he deepened his kiss.
His lips and teeth nibbled at her tongue, then he trailed kisses down to her neck and shoulder as his hand encircled her back and he flattened his palm against its hollow curve. He pressed her close, fitting her to him.
Rachel’s breath caught in a quiet moan as her sensitive breasts pressed against his bare chest, her belly and loins and thighs molded against his as his hand slid downward, over the swell of her hips to her bottom.
His body grew hard and hot, his breathing rough. Their bodies melded together. Rachel felt boneless. Eric’s gentle, questing fingers traced the contours of her body until he skimmed the underside of her breast.
Her nipples tightened in a response that echoed through to her core.
He cupped her small breast in his palm, his thumb coaxing its tip into aching erection as his lips and
tongue and teeth drained her of doubt and fear.
Magically, their clothes dissolved, and like a sculptor with fresh clay, he reshaped her to fit him. His arousal pulsed against her, flesh against flesh.
His head bent and he took the tip of her breast into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth and sending rhythmic vibrations streaking through her body. She strained against him, seeking release.
“Be still,” he rasped, pressing his forehead against hers, gulping air in shallow bursts, his heart thudding through his whole body. Its cadence called to hers. “I’m not…much good at this.”
His words shocked her, pulling her back a bit from the edge she’d almost tumbled over just seconds before. Taking a long breath, she shook her head slightly, rubbing her nose against his. “Not good?” she whispered. “I’ve never felt like this before. You’ve barely touched me and I’m so close—”
He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. A look of awe transformed his face. “I’ve been told I’m too closed off, too detached.”
Rachel sucked in a sharp breath. “Not detached,” she breathed, shifting to feel his hard length more intimately against her.
He grimaced. “Rachel.” He practically in her ear. “Please.”
A little laugh bubbled through her. “You make me feel sexy,” she whispered, sliding her hand across his chest and down over his lean, taut abdomen.
“You make me feel out of control.”
“But that’s good, isn’t it?” She flattened her palm against his taut belly.
“Ah, don’t—”
He stopped, his breath hitching as her fingers brushed the rigid arousal that strained between them. His hoarse voice sent a thrill of triumph and passion coursing through her.
She did this to him. “Oh, Eric.”
He shuddered and his arousal pulsed against her hand. “Rachel, be careful,” he begged.
She lay back and he rolled over her, his fingers trailing down her belly, seeking assurance that she was ready.
She was. She knew it. Moisture flowed and gathered as he touched her more intimately than anyone had in a long time. As he discovered the proof of a longing that had never been so strong inside her before.
