by Lisa Eugene
“Last week… One morning, I came to your building, and…and you were with that woman. The one from the club.”
He cursed roughly and pulled her gaze back to his.
“Chloe, she just showed up at my building. She was waiting for me in the lobby. We used to sleep together. That’s all. Nothing more than that. It’s over now. It’s been over for a while, before us,” he said earnestly.
Chloe dragged her bottom lip through her teeth. Of course it had only been sexual. That’s all he’s looking for.
His hand came up to gently cup her cheek. “There’s only you, Chloe. I worry so much about you because I’m falling in love with you.”
His words had her breath stuttering in her lungs and her heart palpitating. Chloe stared wide-eyed, tears already brimming in the corners of her eyes and sliding down her cheek. She was stunned. Her brain was busy trying to restart her organs, so sending signals to her vocal cords was low on its list of priorities. She cleared her throat, blinking rapidly and trying to quell her internal mayhem. Could she trust his words? Had she heard him correctly?
Impossible.
Him falling in love with her? She was still trying to understand why he was helping her, why he would risk so much. She was plain, ordinary Chloe Bennett, with a chaotic present and an uncertain future. She cleared her scratchy throat, and stared up at him, her eyes transparent with confusion.
“Brad, my life is a mess. You have so much to lose by helping me. After everything I put you through, I don’t deserve—”
His finger touched her lips, silencing her, and his eyes soaked her in. “You, Chloe, deserve a love who is willing to risk everything for you.”
A tear tracked down her cheek and he chased it away with his thumb. He leaned down and his soft lips glided over hers. He pulled back and regarded her. The corner of his lips tilted in a heart-stopping smile, teasing his dimples out of hiding. “You pull that shit again, and I’ll bend you over my knee and paddle your ass. We’re in this together.”
Chloe couldn’t help the big fat grin that took over a good portion of her face. Somehow instead of inducing fear, his word sparked an image that accelerated her breath. Brad noticed her simmering excitement and he threw his head back and laughed out loud, his rumbling timbre purring down her spine.
“I can’t believe I ever thought you prudish.”
Chloe winced, hating the familiar bite of the word.
“Well, you’re not. At all. You’re a horny girl with a dirty mouth during sex and I love it!” Brad exclaimed, seeming to note the change in her expression.
She grinned and playfully smacked his chest, then resumed her place on the couch. She folded her legs under her and leaned back.
“It’s just that my brother would sometimes call me a prude. I hate it.”
Brad rubbed a palm along the back of his neck, his expression sobering. “Have you spoken to Richard?”
She nodded, not sure she wanted to get into a discussion about her brother. “He’s with Mom today and tomorrow. Maria is off.”
Chloe let her gaze sweep the floor, wondering how she would broach the next subject. She didn’t want to start another argument, but his words kept echoing in her head. We’re in this together. She didn’t have to be alone. He was right by her side. She took a deep breath and spat out her words, trying not to taste them.
“I have to go see Richard tomorrow.”
Brad immediately stiffened and he turned to her. Before he could protest, she rushed on.
“I need to check on my mother, and…see to things.”
Chloe breathed deep. She didn’t want to divulge that one of the reasons she was seeing Richard was to pay him his stipend. She’d promised to meet him at the apartment tomorrow and was afraid that without the payments he wouldn’t take care of their mother. Now with her in hiding, she depended on him more than ever. She also needed to leave payment for Maria. They’d arranged a hiding spot in the apartment. She didn’t trust Richard to pay her.
Brad took two long-legged strides and sat next to her. His large palm covered her knee, his touch sending tingles racing up her thigh.
“It’s pretty risky. I’d prefer for you to not go.” He stared calmly. “But I know it would be a futile exercise for me to try to talk you out of it. I want to go with you. And we should go at night. It’ll be easier under the cover of darkness, harder for you to be recognized.”
She nodded. Nighttime was best anyway because the roof deck would be open and they’d have access to the fire escape.
She wanted to weep. She’d expected an explosion of anger and a tirade of rebukes. In fact, she’d braced for them, and instead he was trying to help her. She laced her fingers through his and brought his hand to her face, gently placing her lips against it. She shot him a weepy smile and joy wafted through her. She couldn’t believe after all these years, she’d found this man, a solid rock in her turbulent sea. She was so afraid to believe.
“Promise me you won’t go without me?” he said softly.
“I promise.” She nodded, zeroing in on his bright blue eyes.
Brad leaned in and slanted his lips over hers, and she opened to the firm pressure of his mouth and the sensuous stroke of his tongue. His lips coasted over hers, knowing exactly how to extract every shiver of pleasure and torture her body to screaming awareness. She moaned against his mouth and he swallowed the sound, added bass and texture, then returned it in a deep, sexy rumble that played over her senses and energized her goose bumps.
“God, you taste good,” he breathed against her wet, parted lips.
Her lips pulled in a smile just as the doorbell rang. “That would be the food you ordered.”
He grumbled low and sucked on her bottom lip. “I’d rather eat you.”
His words speared right to her sex, and she had to adjust her hips on the couch. He tucked her flowing hair behind her ear and swore when the doorbell chimed again.
“I guess I’ll have to save you for dessert. And damn, I don’t think I have any whipped cream.”
She blushed floridly, and it only got worse as he grinned down at her.
“Now go into the other room before the delivery guy sees you. You’re glowing like a light bulb.”
She smiled, feeling heat burn her tell-tale skin, then stood and hurried into the bedroom. She noticed him quickly adjust himself as he made his way to the door. It awed her that her body was so responsive to him. She wanted him every minute of the day. Just one look into those gorgeous eyes, or a lingering kiss, and she was melting.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting at the dining room table eating dinner. This part of the apartment offered a view straight down Second Avenue and from this high up the street looked like one long red ribbon, formed by a cluster of brake lights. Dusk was claiming the city and a few feeble strings of sunlight threaded around the colossal buildings and crept into the dining room. She watched Brad cut his steak, noting the beauty and dexterity of his long, tapered fingers, and tried to imagine those hands in the operating room. She’d heard he had unmatched surgical skills, that he was brilliant. Her gaze moved to his handsome face. She believed it.
He started telling her about his visit from Detective Sullivan and the words made her food stick in her throat. Just thinking about her time at the police station had chills rushing across her skin. Those long arduous hours spent with Detective Sullivan had been detestable.
“Do you think he suspects anything?” she asked with alarm.
“No.” He shook his head, and Chloe wondered if he was as confident as he sounded. “Although he comes across as sloppy and rude, I think it’s an act. I think he’s actually very astute. I’m sorry you had to endure his questioning.”
She nodded. “He didn’t believe a word I said. It was awful…” Her words trailed off and his warm palm covered hers.
“Monty has brought in a criminal attorney. They are both on the case.”
Chloe sighed, hating the fact that she was such a burden to him, emotionally
and financially—and now physically, because she was hiding out in his apartment. “Brad, the expense—”
“Don’t even say it, Chlo.”
“I’ll pay you back, I promise…somehow.” Chloe’s gaze fell to her plate because she hadn’t the slightest idea how she would manage it.
He heaved a sigh, ignoring her. “You have enough to deal with now. Once we get the information on Memoram, it will be obvious that it’s what killed the patients, then we can go to the police.”
Chloe frowned. “Why do you think Phillips approached you at the club?”
He shrugged his wide shoulders. “I don’t know, but he pissed me off. I punched him. I’ll have Bea send the bastard a note with some excuse, maybe say I was drunk so he doesn’t question my motives.”
Chloe nodded. She didn’t want to admit that she’d seen the whole thing, that she hadn’t listened to him and gone straight to the alley.
“I’m still trying to put all the pieces together. Nigel said he was hired to draw blood. I thought it was the man in Mr. Kaplan’s room who was administering the drug, but the drug has to be given sequentially, that’s what Gordon had said. Whoever was giving it would have to be on the ward almost every day.”
“This has been going on for a while. Wouldn’t someone notice a stranger?”
“You know how it is, Brad. The nurses on the wards are busy. Family members are coming and going, techs, orderlies, phlebotomists, medical students, residents—they’re always changing! It’s sad to say, but anyone with a lab coat can walk on to a ward and have access to a patient.”
Brad’s eyes widened. “Mr. Barkley, what was it that he said to you the night of his code?”
She felt her skin grow cold as she recalled her patient’s words. “That he wasn’t going home. They’d never let him leave. Oh my God…he knew.”
Brad nodded slowly. “Yes, he knew something. Someone had been going into his room repeatedly, giving him the medication and drawing his blood. That’s why Phillips thought he could get away with this. These patients were already confused. If they raised a cry, no one would believe them. We’d think it was just part of their confused mental status.”
“The poor man must have been terrified,” she whispered.
“You noticed, Chloe. You noticed a change in the patients. That might be why you were targeted. Had you told anyone your concerns?”
Her lids rolled up and she met his searching gaze. “On—only Nurse Wall.”
Brad sighed and she felt the burden of his thoughts. “It’s conceivable that Phillips had help in the hospital. This sort of thing is hard to pull off without it. Nurse Wall also has access to your locker.”
“I’ve thought about that. I—I just don’t know what to believe. Nigel had said ‘it’s not what you think’.” I had asked if it was the man in Mr. Kaplan’s room administering the Memoram. Maybe it was someone else.”
“Like Nurse Wall. She certainly wouldn’t mind seeing you go to jail for the murders. I don’t trust her.”
Chloe knew Nurse Wall had never liked her, but to frame her for murder was inconceivable. But her supervisor had seemed out to get her for weeks now.
“Accardo said the police can’t identify what’s in the syringe found in your apartment.”
“That’s strange.” She frowned. “You would think whoever put it there would want to make it easy to incriminate me.”
She watched his brows pull up thoughtfully. “Unless no one put it there.”
“What do you mean?”
The air around them grew thick as Brad’s blue eyes deepened in color. Silence settled like a cloud over them until he spoke again. “What if it’s Memoram?”
Her eyes widened in shock. She shook her head to upright her overturned thoughts. “What? How would Memoram get into my apartment?”
“Accardo had said it was found in the pocket of one of your uniforms. What if you brought it home by accident somehow?”
Chloe started to shake her head, already dismissing the idea as ridiculous. How would she have access to this dangerous experimental medication?
She opened her mouth to speak and then drew in a sharp breath, her words like a dam in her lungs, causing asphyxiation.
“Oh, God, Susan…”
“What?”
Chloe grabbed for her glass of water and took several deep gulps before she looked across the table into his questioning eyes.
“The night of Mr. Kaplan’s death. I took a syringe from Susan and put it in my pocket. It was meant for Mr. Kaplan. She’d given him some of it earlier. I forgot all about it.”
He held her stare, his eyes intent. “It’s quite possible, Chlo. That could have been the medication that killed him.”
“No! I can’t imagine that Susan would be party to this!”
“You said it yourself. Whoever is giving the medication would have to be on the ward every day. Susan would have ample opportunity.”
She scrubbed her hands over her face, still trying to wrap her brain around his incredible accusations. She remembered Susan’s reluctance to hand over the syringe and chills dispersed over her skin.
Brad laced his fingers through hers. “I’m just saying we have to consider all possibilities. It may very well not be Memoram in that second syringe, but it’s strange that the police is having difficulty identifying the substance. And it’s possible you inadvertently brought it home from the hospital. Either way, we need the link to Omega and that means we still need the research data.”
Chloe’s mind was far away, thinking about her job and the people she worked with. Could Susan be involved in this? Her friend? Did she also believe the medication wouldn’t harm the patients?
“I can’t imagine what it’s like at the hospital now,” Chloe mused sadly. “I really miss my job. I miss the patients.”
His large hand squeezed hers. “It’s very tense. Everyone misses you, Chloe. No one who knows you believes you capable of hurting anyone. They’re all out trying to find you. They’re out searching every day.”
Chloe nodded and tried to shrug away the melancholy that had settled like a shawl over her shoulders. Although she was living it, she still couldn’t believe the astonishing turn of events in her life. She had to believe she’d be cleared of all charges. She tried not to think of the future, about the impact of this horror on her nursing career, about her dire financial situation. She had to live one day at a time, and focus on clearing her name.
Just then, Brad’s cell phone rang and he fished it from his pocket. She noticed the angles of his face sharpen as he looked at the caller ID. He stood from the table and walked towards the large windows overlooking the city. Not wanting to intrude on his call, she rose and started to head out of the room. She wanted to take a shower anyway. Brad caught her gaze and gave a sharp shake of his head, stopping her in her tracks. He said a few clipped words into the phone, and then hung up and stared at her from across the room.
“That was John Fusso. He says he can get me the information on Memoram. He wants in on my parents’ biotech company and is interested in negotiating. We’re meeting tomorrow.” He must have seen the worried look on her face because he added, “Don’t worry, Chloe. Phillips will pay for what he’s done.”
Chloe stepped out of the large, glass-enclosed shower and grabbed a towel. She quickly dried off and swaddled her body. Running her palms up and down the material, she fingered its soft texture. The silver towel racks must have built in warmers because the warm, plush towel felt divine against her skin. God! Who has such luxuries? The plastic telescopic towel rack in her apartment was constantly falling out of its holder, which she guessed was okay because she mostly used it to prop up the tiny window in her bathroom that never stayed open.
Chloe had never stopped to contemplate all the material things she didn’t have. She’d always had food on the table and a roof over her head and counted herself lucky, because that was more than most of the world. As a nurse she took care of people from all walks of life, from th
e very wealthy to the destitute. That was the one thing about nursing…she witnessed pain and sorrow every day and it was patently obvious that health was the most important treasure one could have. It gave her undiluted joy to help patients feel better, recover from their illnesses, and return to their normal lives. She wondered if it was the same for Brad. It was obvious he had been fond of Mr. Barkley, but when he talked about work sometimes, it seemed like more of an obligation than a passion.
She sighed, wondering about his plan to meet with Mr. Fusso and negotiate for the Memoram data. Brad was extremely optimistic and on some level so was she. She wanted to get this over with and knew she couldn’t take refuge with Brad much longer. The longer she stayed with him, the more she put him at risk, especially with Detective Sullivan sniffing around.
She didn’t have much faith that Nigel would come through. He’d practically been jumping out of his skin with fear, and as much as she desperately needed the information, she didn’t want him losing his life. She still had a hard time with what Brad had said about Susan. She just couldn’t imagine that her friend would be involved in such a scheme, or that she’d purposefully hurt her. Although glad Mr. Fusso could obtain the data, she hated the idea of Brad making such a sacrifice. He was an amazing man with a good heart. He was gorgeous, smart, determined, rocked her world in bed, and he…was falling in love with her. Holy crap! She grinned.
Chloe wrapped another towel around her dark hair, struggling to contain the thick length. Finally getting it secure, she looked around for the toothbrush Brad had told her was on the counter. She pulled out a few drawers, and not finding it, called out to him.
She opened the medicine cabinet and her hand instantly stilled. Her brows furrowed as she read the prescription bottle. She picked it up and held it closer to her face, alarm bells ringing in her head.
“What are you doing?”
The question came from behind her, the voice flat and hard.
Chloe startled and turned wide-eyed to Brad. He was standing by the bathroom door. He’d taken off his suit and was just in boxers, his chest bare. “What is this, Brad?”