by Nic Saint
The pair exchanged a suspicious glance, but Jack didn’t wait around for permission. Before they’d had the chance to respond, he was out the door and racing down the corridor with Melanie.
Looking back, he saw them emerge from the room, looking greatly perturbed. He held up his arm. “Take a seat! She won’t be long!”
Then he was through the swinging doors separating this ward from the next, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Melanie, who hadn’t said a word, peered back, and when she saw they’d left her parents behind, seemed to relax.
“Thanks, Jack. I-I-I don’t know what came over me, but suddenly I was scared shitless of being left alone with my parents.”
Jack frowned and voiced a thought that had taken hold of him. “If they are your parents, that is.”
Melanie jerked her head around. “I-I was thinking the exact same thing.”
“Let’s get you out of here.”
“Where? I have no place to go.”
“Don’t you have an apartment?”
She nodded. “I have. On Pelican Street, Bill told me. But...” She wrung her hands and gave him another pleading look.
He understood. “You can stay at my place until we figure out what the hell is going on.”
“Your place? But—”
“It’s all right. I’m one of the good guys. Trust me.”
She gave him a watery smile. “I know. I don’t know how I know, but... I do.”
Jack quickly steered the wheelchair down the corridor until he found the elevator. It seemed to take the damn thing ages to reach their floor, and both he and Melanie kept darting anxious glances in the direction they came from.
Finally the car arrived and they joined half a dozen other patients and visitors inside. An old man leaning heavily on his IV stand eyed him morosely. Then it dawned on him the man wasn’t staring at him but at Melanie. In their haste to leave the room, she hadn’t put on anything over her hospital gown, which was a lot more revealing than she probably would have wished. He stared at the soft swell of her breasts clearly visible through the flimsy gown and swallowed heavily. Dammit. She was naked underneath that thing.
He quickly hitched out of his jacket and slung it across her shoulders. Gratefully, she projected a warm smile at him.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “Again.”
He merely nodded, staring down the old lecher, who, if he was disappointed, did a great job hiding it.
Five minutes later, they were at his BMW, and he was helping her into the passenger seat. Another five minutes, and they were cruising down the road, both heaving simultaneous sighs of relief. Their eyes met, and they both laughed. He was pleased at the sound of her voice. Her smile touched her eyes, and as they lit up, he felt a familiar tug at his heart. Even in her current state of dishevelment, she was hot!
She’d tucked some straying strands of hair behind her ears, and he watched in fascination as her full lips seemed to extend an invitation. Suddenly, he felt an almost irresistible urge to lean over and worry those lips with his own. Instead, he returned her smile. “If Linda Soakes and that guy really are your parents, they’ll be pretty pissed by now.”
The smile disappeared. “The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced they’re not, Jack.”
He glanced over at her. “You sure about that?” When she nodded, he added, “Best we take you to the police then.”
“You think so?”
“The cop who interviewed you? He seems to think foul play’s involved.” He cut her a look of concern. “Someone did a pretty good number on you, Melanie.”
“I know. Bill told me.”
“Bill? Oh, right. Rattner.” He grimaced at the thought of having to see the hostile cop again, but it couldn’t be helped.
Melanie must have sensed his reluctance. “What’s the story with you and Bill? He kept asking me if I knew who you were.”
Jack gripped the wheel a little tighter. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
Jack shook his head. “Later. First let’s get you some help.”
He really wasn’t ready to discuss his complicated relationship with the Bill Rattners of this world.
She gave a soft whimper and he looked over. His heart skipped a beat when he found her slumped over in her seat.
“Melanie!”
Brusquely, he pulled over, almost hitting a station wagon and a utility vehicle.
He lifted her head and saw she’d passed out again. Oh, God. He should never have checked her out of the hospital. She was probably suffering from a concussion.
Checking traffic in his rearview mirror, he darted out and rounded the car to her side. Quickly easing her out of her seat, he heaved her up in his arms and carried her over to the back of the car. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and his heart pounded in his chest. He managed to open the rear door and eased her onto the back seat, making sure to properly buckle her up. As he did so, her hospital gown shifted. He froze as he caught sight of her porcelain skin, the swell of her breast squeezed against his thumb. The warmth of her flesh against his hand sent a torrent of lust raging through his groin, and he swallowed with difficulty, trying to tear his eyes away.
“Christ, Jack,” he groaned. “What are you, a fucking pervert?”
He carefully readjusted her dress, and draped his jacket over her once again, tucking it in so it wouldn’t slip.
He stared down at her for a moment, studying her frozen face. Her hair was matted to her skull, and she looked thin and gaunt, but it was clear she was beyond gorgeous. Delicate, even features and cheekbones designed to make a plastic surgeon weep in envy, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. He briefly trailed his finger along her pale cheek, then gently pressed the door shut and took out his cell.
“Robert? Jack. I need your help, buddy. Yes, right now.”
Chapter 4
They were strangling me. Th-they were choking me! I fought as hard as I could—slung their hands away but they pinned me down. Held my hands in an iron grip and I couldn’t move—couldn’t budge—could only watch, helplessly, as they prepared the syringe.
Just before they plunged the needle into my flesh, I cried out in anguish and confusion.
“Stop! No! Not the needle!”
I opened my eyes and found myself falling into the deepest blue. A sonorous voice intoned the same words over and over again. “It’s all right, Melanie. It’s all right. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”
I looked down and saw the needle leave my arm. I wanted to scream and shout but the drug took effect immediately, and I felt its calm take possession of me. A warm relaxation seeped through my veins, and I felt my body go limp.
“Just something to help you relax,” the voice soothed.
With a quickening of the pulse I recognized the man. “Jack? Is that you?”
“It’s me. And this is a good friend of mine. Robert is a doctor.”
My gaze shifted to the man handling the needle. He stared down at me with a frown of concern etched on his bearded face. He was young, like Jack, and now that the wave of panic had subsided, I saw he had kind eyes. Doctor’s eyes.
“You suffered a nasty bump, Melanie,” he said in a soft, reassuring voice. “And if I’m not mistaken more physical abuse than your mind cares to remember.”
I swallowed, my eyes stinging with tears. “Abuse? But I thought the doctors at the hospital said nothing... sexual...” The words stuck in my throat.
Robert shook his head. “I read the report. And thank God nothing of that nature was done to you. But I did discover multiple needle marks on your arm, indicating you were sedated by whoever abducted you. And you have several bruises on your back and shoulders.” He grimaced. “Possibly sustained in a botched attempt to escape your captors.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Wait. Abduction? Escape attempt? What do you think happened to me?”
Robert exchanged a ponderous glance with Jac
k. “From my first, cursory examination I’d say you were strapped to a bed for a couple of days—”
“Three days,” I murmured.
“—and when you tried to escape they drugged you. Somehow you still managed to get away, your coordination impaired by the drugs in your system, and when you stumbled into the river you must have knocked your head going in. The cold water woke you up sufficiently to cry out for help.”
“And then Jack saved me,” I heaved, my eyes half closed.
“I can’t take all the credit. If Rufus hadn’t started barking—”
“Rufus?”
“My Alsatian. We were out for our walk when we happened upon you.”
“Thank God for Rufus, then.”
Robert closed his doctor’s kit. “I need you to rest for a couple of days, Melanie. You suffered a mild concussion. I’ve appointed Jack here your private nurse if that’s okay with you. He’ll see to it you have everything you need until you make a full recovery.”
“I really can’t accept this, Jack. Perhaps you better take me back to the hospital. I-I really don’t want to take advantage of your—”
Jack shut me up with a gesture. “I don’t mind playing nurse. Though I can’t vouch for the quality of the service. I don’t mind confessing I never finished medical school.”
“You never started medical school, ass,” said Robert with a grin.
“Well, we can’t all be geniuses, genius.”
Robert inclined his head. “That’s true.” He dodged Jack’s punch and quickly made his way to the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check up on you, Melanie. But if you need anything before then, just tell Jack and I’ll come running, all right?”
“Thanks for everything, Robert,” I said, touched by so much kindness.
He flashed a quick grin. “You’re welcome. It was nice to meet you.”
“Same here.”
After Robert left, there was a momentary silence. Jack, who’d taken a seat on the bed next to me, seemed perturbed. I could see why. Whoever he was, accepting responsibility for a total stranger must have greatly upset his daily routine.
“I’m sorry about all this, Jack. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible.”
He seemed surprised. “You don’t need to be sorry, Melanie. Whoever did this to you should. And I promise you we will get to the bottom of this.”
I was afraid to voice the question. “W-we?”
He gripped my hand in his, and the warmth and strength did much to lift my spirits from the depths.
“Yes. We. I saved your life, now it’s my responsibility to keep you safe.”
“Jack, I—”
But it was clear he brooked no argument. Gesturing around the ornately furnished room, he added, “Nobody knows you’re here. You’re perfectly safe. So don’t worry about a thing, and try to get some rest, all right?”
I stared at him. “Who are you? An angel sent from heaven?”
He laughed. “Why? You’ve never met Saint Martin before? Wait till you see what I can do with a cloak and a reasonably sharp sword.”
My lips curled up into a weak smile. Whatever Robert had given me was working. I felt sleep roll over me like a warm blanket. Before my eyes drifted closed, I gave Jack’s hand a squeeze, and whispered, “Thank you for saving my life.” I didn’t remember if I’d told him before, but I figured you can never thank a genuine saint too many times.
He said something in response but I was too far gone to catch it. With Jack’s hand enveloping mine, I fell into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 5
Jack stared down at the limp form of Melanie and wondered at the wave of tenderness washing over him. Why was it that this girl affected him so?
In the thirty-four years he’d been alive he’d known plenty of women, more than a few of them in the biblical sense, but never had he harbored even an ounce of genuine affection for any of them.
He’d had his brief infatuations, though he could hardly recall the last one, but they’d never lasted beyond a couple of days and had never extended beyond the purely physical.
As the son and heir of a vast fortune—father had made his first million at twenty-two and had never looked back—Jack Carter had the women lined up. It wasn’t an exaggeration he could bed any woman he coveted. A mainstay on the list of Europe’s most eligible bachelors, he’d decided a long time ago that marriage simply wasn’t in the cards for the likes of him. No woman was worth the trouble.
His dad kept trying to strong-arm him into the holy bond but he’d managed to dodge that bullet each and every time.
Why did he have to get married if his older brother Thomas had already provided the Carter empire with the next in line for the throne? His nephew Samuel, now a chubby two-year-old, had been a godsend not only to a proud grandfather and a doting father but also to a greatly relieved Uncle Jack.
A keen and savvy investment banker like his old man, Jack had already managed to add to the Carter coffers to the tune of hundreds of millions, so he figured he’d earned his keep and a reprieve from the marital curse.
He gently released Melanie’s hand. At the thought of what the young woman had suffered through, his blood boiled. It was imperative they find who was responsible for the outrage, and he had a pretty good idea where to start.
Returning to the living room of the suite he rented at the Brussels Carlton, he walked over to the small desk he’d organized near the window. He liked the view over the European capital it afforded him, though at this time he couldn’t care less about such trivial matters as scenic beauty.
Flipping up his laptop cover, he stared at the email he’d just received from Argosy, the detective agency the Carter family kept on retainer.
Melanie Harper, according to Tucker Jackson, the detective assigned to the case, didn’t exist. The apartment she allegedly held on Pelican Avenue was registered in the name of a Sue Fuller, who also lived there. Mrs Fuller was a woman of forty-two, mother of three, and held a full-time position at the Ixelles department of spatial planning. She had never heard of Melanie Harper nor did she recognize her from a picture. In other words, a dead end.
No one combining the name and age of Linda Soakes was registered anywhere in the Schengen Area, so the woman had blatantly lied, and even though Jack had tried to describe the alleged Mrs Soakes to the best of his recollection, the search had turned up a big fat zero.
The most promising lead was the picture he’d snapped of the unconscious Melanie and sent to Argosy. Surely they would be able to identify her based on her appearance? Apparently, they couldn’t. After failing to click with Mrs Fuller, a further search had been fruitless. Facial recognition software was all fine and dandy, but unless Melanie was a hardened criminal with a string of convictions to her name or a known terrorist threatening to wreak havoc, she wouldn’t be on the police radar. And since a searchable database of all 507.4 million EU citizens didn’t exist, finding Melanie was a hopeless task.
The only avenue Jack hadn’t yet pursued was to mine Melanie’s cell phone for possible leads. He needed her permission to do that, and he wanted to wait until she was feeling better before going down that route.
He ambled over to the mini-bar and poured himself a thimbleful of Scotch, then stood staring out at the night sky while he let the amber liquor’s fiery tongue lap at his insides and lift his spirits.
He’d taken an instant liking to Melanie Harper, and he wondered why. Was it because she was the helpless victim of a cruel fate? Any man would reach out and try to do whatever he could to right that wrong, wouldn’t he? Just like he’d rescue a wounded puppy found tied to a tree, Melanie had simply appealed to his humanity.
He’d keep her safe until she was sufficiently healed and the mystery of her identity and apparent abduction solved, and then they’d part ways and that would be it. Right? Of course. He didn’t feel anything for her beyond understandable compassion.
He thought back to her shivering body draped against him when he lifted her
clear of the bracken water. Her arms slung around his neck, her hot breath against his cheek and her soft breasts pressing through her wet blouse against his chest...
He quickly downed the rest of the drink in a single gulp and squeezed his eyes shut at the familiar burn in his gullet.
She’d felt great in his arms, cuddled up against him. He hadn’t minded that he’d been soaking wet by the time he had her safely back on the quay. He could have held her forever.
The familiar scratchy sound of Rufus’s nails against the hardwood floor had him look up. The puppy, gamboling in from the master bedroom where he had his basket, gave a short yelp, surprised to find Jack still up and about.
Jack checked his watch. After two. Perhaps it was time to finally turn in for the night. There didn’t seem to be anything he could do. Argosy was on the case, Melanie was safely tucked away in the spare bedroom, and Rufus didn’t need to go out until the early morning, a fact of which the playful Alsatian would definitely remind him once dawn loomed on the horizon.
He stretched his limbs and knelt down to tickle the puppy behind the ears.
“You like her too, don’t you, Rufus?”
Rufus gave a soft bark, confirming Jack’s suspicions. “Sucker,” he grunted, giving the dog a gentle prod.
Rufus looked up, his tongue lolling, and though Jack couldn’t be sure, he thought he detected in the pup’s cinnamon eyes a hint of glee. “Right back at ya, pal,” the dog seemed to say.
Chapter 6
I woke up when I heard the noise. A ruckus, coming from somewhere nearby. A dog barking. People shouting. Instinctively, I jumped out of bed. Or at least tried to. My legs had turned to rubber, and when I hit the floor, it was face forward and not as gracefully as I’d intended.
“Ouch. Fuck,” I grunted, then quickly scampered under the bed when the loud noises seemed to draw closer.
