Roxanne St. Claire - Barefoot With a Bad Boy (Barefoot Bay Undercover #3)

by Unknown

  Just then, Dr. Bradley came in, and they all turned to him, and Gabe fought the urge to lunge forward and demand to see Lila. Instead, he set Rafe down and walked toward the other man so they could have privacy.

  “We’ve completed a battery of tests,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me, and we can talk with Lila.”

  Gabe signaled for his family to sit tight and followed the doc behind closed doors to a small medical prep room, where Lila was in a bed wearing a hospital gown and a tentative smile.

  “Is this good news?” he asked as the doctor led him in.

  “Good that you are one hundred percent correct about an implant in the base of Lila’s neck.”

  Good Lord. Gabe reached for her hand and shared a look with her. “Can you take it out?”

  “I think so.”

  “Today?”

  “Actually, yes. She’s in excellent health, except for the headaches, and my partner and a special surgery nurse are on their way in if Lila gives the okay. They will have to be briefed on the situation.”

  Gabe gave a questioning look to Lila. “That’s a no-brainer to me, but it’s not my brain on the table. What do you think?”

  “I want it out, Gabe.”

  “And that will end the headaches?”

  “I don’t know,” the doc said. “The scans and MRI just tell us that there’s a foreign object just under the brain stem. I can’t tell what it’s doing, although by the placement, I would say it’s attached to a gland that secretes monoamines, like serotonin, melatonin, dopamine. Could a certain neurotransmitter spike something in the nerves near that to cause pain? Yes, I suppose that is entirely possible. We have to go in and find out.”

  Go in. Gabe swallowed hard and squeezed Lila’s hand. “So, brain surgery?”

  “Not technically,” Bradbury replied, flipping through a chart and studying a black-and-white image. “It’s a surface removal at the base of her neck. I don’t have to go under the skull, or it couldn’t be done, not here and not by me.”

  “Is there a risk?” Gabe asked.

  “It’s surgery,” he said calmly. “There are always risks, but the pain you’re describing, Lila?” He shook his head. “No one should live like that, and I feel qualified to at least go in and take a pass at it. No guarantees this will work.” The doctor lifted his file. “I’ll give you two a minute alone, and then we’ll take it from there.”

  After he left, Gabe turned to Lila, seeing how pale she was and immediately recognizing the shadow of pain around her eyes. “You have a headache now,” he said.

  “Like a Mack truck is plowing through my brain.”

  He lifted her hand in both of his, bringing it to his chest. “Why? What are you feeling? Fear? Uncertainty about this?”

  She blinked, her eyes brimming. “Love. It gets me every time.”

  “You love this studly doctor and his sexy scalpel?” he teased. The words caught in his throat as he said them.

  She smiled at him. “I love the man who will turn the world upside down for me, who fights and claws and takes risks for me, and who…” She squeezed his hand. “Who loves me.”

  He lowered his head to press his lips against hers. “Then let’s try to make it painless for you to love me back.”

  She reached up and pulled his head closer to deepen the kiss. “You can tell your family,” she said into his mouth.

  “Good, ’cause they’re all in the waiting room.”

  She laughed against his mouth. “I should have guessed as much.” She eased him back. “Rafe, too?”

  “Yeah, but I won’t tell him anything, I promise. We can do that together. And when we do, it won’t hurt.” It might be one of the best moments of any of their lives, if this surgery worked.

  The door opened, and Bradbury came back in, a question on his face.

  “Let’s roll, Doc,” Gabe said. “And please let me see whatever you take out of her head, because it’s evidence, and someone is going to pay for this.”

  With one more reassuring kiss, Gabe left the room and headed back to where his family waited.

  He looked around and saw only Chessie, Mal, and Nino.

  “Poppy took Rafe downstairs to look at the aquarium,” Chessie said, coming over to him. “Then they’re going for ice cream.”

  God bless that woman. “Perfect,” he said. “Lila’s going into surgery now.”

  Chessie gasped softly, and Nino and Mal stood, concern darkening their expressions. Gabe took a breath and closed his eyes, then gestured for them to sit back down.

  “I have to tell you something.” He crossed the room and took the seat next to Nino. “Stay near me, old man. If you have a heart attack, I can drag your ass right into surgery.”

  Nino’s dark eyes narrowed, and his bushy brows drew together. “I already know that boy is my great-grandson.”

  “He’s Isadora’s child, isn’t he?” Chessie demanded, not able to wait one more second. “Lila somehow got him and is pretending to be his mother. Right? Am I right?”

  “Partially. He is Isadora’s son. And Lila is…” Was he certain? One hundred percent absolutely certain? Not a shadow of a lingering doubt, right? Of course not. “Lila is Isadora.”

  *

  Blue. Everything was deep, dark, endlessly, cerulean blue. The color of night. The color of seduction. The color of eyes that made her happy, and hurt so much.

  And everything was warm, deliciously, wonderfully warm and wet. In fact, water sluiced over every inch of her body and hair as she floated, helplessly suspended by the warm, blue water.

  She was in the water with Gabe, wrapped in his arms. The moon hung over Varadero Beach as he turned her in his arms, whispered her name, and ran his fingers through her long, dark curls.

  Isadora…I adore ya.

  Euphoria engulfed her, warm as the water, drowning her in love.

  “Lila, can you wake up?”

  The words were muffled by the water, nothing but noise that made no sense. She let herself sink deeper into the water. It was calming and painless…bliss.

  “Ms. Wickham, please try to open your eyes.”

  The voice, a stranger’s voice, didn’t register. Nothing clicked. Just the water and the warmth and the hand that suddenly, softly pressed against her cheek.

  Isadora…I adore ya.

  “Hey.” A whisper in her ear, secret and sweet. “Come back to me, baby.”

  And everything made sense. The world was right and good. Gabe was there. Always, in the blue water, under the moon, laughing, kissing, promising. She would fight anything in her way, brave any pain, crash through any obstacle for Gabe.

  Because he had done that for her.

  The first finger of bright light jabbed at her eyes, pulling a moan from her throat.

  “There we go.” A woman spoke. “Time to wake, dear.”

  “Mmmm.” It was the best she could manage. Plus, she didn’t want to leave the warm water or blue world. She didn’t want to leave—

  “Lila.”

  Gabe. No, she wasn’t Isadora. She was still Lila. She forced her eyes open again, the world a bright, cold blur with no water, no moon, no…

  Blue eyes peering down at her. Beautiful eyes. His eyes. The eyes of Gabe, the eyes that matched her son’s, the two men she loved. Her…family.

  She loved them so much, and it always, always hurt.

  But nothing hurt now. Not even her head.

  Her eyes popped wide, an injection of hope rolling through her veins like hot, loaded morphine. “My head.”

  “I know, it hurts.” The woman appeared over her now, all efficient and bright, the perfect nurse. “I’m Mary. Do you remember me?”

  Mary. Her mother’s name. Her mother who collected rosaries and prayed to a saint whose name she had. A lovely, sweet, solid name. A lovely, sweet, solid woman. She braced for the shot of pain that always came with that thought, with that poignant deep love she truly felt for her mother…but there was nothing.

  “My head,”
she repeated, trying to sit up to make her point, but Mary put her hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s going to hurt for a few days where the incision is.”

  “That’s just it,” she mumbled. “It doesn’t.”

  Suddenly, Gabe was in front of her again, nudging the nurse away. “It doesn’t hurt?”

  “Not on the inside.” She closed her eyes for a moment and waited for the tap of the first pain in the base of her neck, and there was discomfort. A slight pulling of her skin. On the outside. Inside, it was just…soft. Blurry. Peaceful. Blue.

  The way her head never was. Usually, it was edgy, harsh, and angry red with pain.

  “What did he find?” She looked at Gabe, her brain fuzzy still but never so dulled that she would say anything she’d been trained not to say in public.

  “We’re waiting for the doctor. Mary just called me in.” He put his hand on her cheek and caressed, the way he had in the dream. In the water. On the beach in Cuba. She remembered it all now, sighing softly, drifting in and out of the remnants of anesthesia.

  When she opened her eyes, he was even closer, even more beautiful, and a surge of love electrified her whole body, waking her and making her brace for the…

  “There’s no pain,” she whispered, feeling a smile pull at her face.

  He leaned closer. “And no British accent. Was that part of an implant, too?”

  “Oh. I don’t…” There it was. “I just forgot. I forgot everything except…” She tried to lift her hand, but an IV was secured, and moving hurt. “You.”

  He smiled. “Good girl.” Then he stood and turned at the sound of someone coming into the room.

  “Let me see her.” Dr. Bradbury stepped next to Gabe, who instantly made way for the other man. “Mary, we need privacy.”

  Mary disappeared at the order, and Dr. Bradbury gestured for Gabe to move around to the other side of the bed. “There was definitely an implant at the base of your neck,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Gabe snorted softly. “Because you don’t know the CIA.”

  A dozen different emotions spiraled through her, ranging from fury to shame, and no small amount of disbelief. Why? Why would they do that to her? Did Dexter know? How could they do this to one of their own?

  One look at Gabe and she knew he was thinking the same thing, only with thoughts far more murderous.

  “How do you feel?” the doctor asked.

  “My head doesn’t hurt. Not inside. Do you think this implant really was the cause of my headaches?”

  He considered that, tilting his head, a handsome, movie-star type with kind but sharp eyes and what she imagined was a very successful bedside manner.

  “I am no expert on how those work, but the device was planted exactly in a way to send a pulse through your hypothalamus when serotonin was secreted. Very much on the surface, which made it easier for us, but still situated in a way to do the job. I hate to say this, but the placement makes me think whoever put it there didn’t want you to enjoy one moment of real happiness or the contentment that secretes serotonin. And, frankly, that’s some of the most disgusting medicine I’ve ever heard practiced.”

  She felt her eyes shutter in agreement.

  “I will say,” he added, “whoever did this was an expert. I don’t know much about secret-agent implants, but whoever inserted this knew what he was doing. My guess is you aren’t the only spy dealing with this kind of…sickness.” And he meant that on every level, she could tell.

  “But she’s better?” Gabe asked. “No aftereffects?”

  “None that I’m aware of, and I’m really not the neurologist you need to see.”

  “Who we need to see is the head of intelligence in this country,” Lila murmured. Even if they let her live long enough to do that, what would she do? Sue? Spill it to the media? Ruin Dex’s life or whoever ruined hers? How would that give her back these pain-inflicted years?

  “Do you have the implant?” Gabe asked.

  “Yes and I cleaned it.” Dr. Bradbury stepped to the side and slid a rolling tray over, lowering it so Lila could see. There, on a white piece of gauze, was a square no bigger than half her baby fingernail. The bastard that had made her head hurt.

  Gabe leaned close, not touching, but examining it. Slowly, he stood and shot a fierce look at Lila, his gaze full of something she couldn’t interpret.

  Dr. Bradbury stepped away, wordlessly handing the issue and problem to Gabe and Lila. “I’ll keep you here for a few hours. After that, you can go home, but you have to rest. Bed rest. Nothing strenuous, nothing physical. I’ll see you in three days, and if you’re willing, I’ll refer you to a neurologist for further testing. Right now, avoid anything that could cause a headache.”

  The only thing that ever caused her head to hurt was…love. She glanced at Gabe, who’d picked up a long pair of tweezers to turn the device over for closer examination. How could she avoid loving him? She more than loved him, with every breath. “I’ll try,” she said.

  Satisfied, the doctor left, and Gabe straightened again, his eyes wild with emotion.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of this,” she assured him. “I won’t let anyone get away with this. No matter how much I think they care about me.”

  “Don’t blame Dexter for this,” Gabe said.

  What? “The director, then. Someone in that damn agency is going to pay. The United States of America cannot inflict torture on its agents.” Her voice rose with the rage that rocked her.

  “The United States of America did not inflict any torture on you,” Gabe said, his voice nearly a whisper.

  “Are you kidding? Those headaches were—”

  “The Soviet Union did.”

  She just stared at him, speechless.

  “Trust me, I know those bastards. This implant is Russian. It’s made by the same company I was spying on, Sevtronics. Largest electronic device manufacturer in Russia.”

  “Wha…how? What?” She barely mouthed the word. “They may have made it, but that doesn’t mean they implanted it. Only CIA had access to my medical procedures.”

  Gabe gave her a look, and she immediately knew.

  “There are spies among us,” she whispered. “Dexter always said so.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Someone infiltrated your operation and your operating room. You heard the man. You’re likely not the only one. We may never find out who did this to you, Lila.”

  She shook her head and cringed when the move hurt her, but she lifted her hand to her mouth as something clicked in her newly cleared brain. “It was Russian!”

  “That’s what I just told you.”

  “No, no. The accent of the man who made me put my phone down at the marina. The one driving the speedboat.”

  Gabe frowned. “No, he didn’t have an accent.”

  “You wouldn’t hear it,” she countered. “It’s my training, and I can hear accents.”

  “Are you kidding? I can spot the slightest bit of a dialect and pinpoint it immediately.”

  “An American dialect, yes. But there was just something sort of under his language. It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t studied linguistics, but Gabe,” she grabbed his arm. “You know what this means? It isn’t Dex. It isn’t the CIA. We can’t blame them.”

  His lip curled as if he realized they were back to square one.

  “I have to talk to Dex now. He can help us, get us back into the intelligence community and go through the names of every person who was in a surgery center with me, and we—”

  He put his finger over her mouth. “As soon as you’re better, and not a minute earlier. First, you heal, then we’ll track this down, Lila.”

  Lila. She gently set her head back on the pillow. “Am I Lila? That thing has been inside me, changing me as much as the surgery that broke my nose and the chemicals that made me a blonde. Who is Lila, anyway?”

  He frowned at her. “You want to be called Isadora?”

  “That’s my name, Gab
e, but I can’t be Isadora. She’s dead. And Rafe would be confused.”

  “He’s four. He won’t remember what name you had when he was a kid. You’re his mum.”

  “With an English accent and blond hair.” She reached to a lock that had slipped out of the special surgery bonnet on her head. “Which reminds me, I’m really sick of being a blonde.”

  He grinned slowly, leaning close to kiss her. “And I was just starting to like you as a blonde.”

  She lifted her IV-free hand and inched him back. “You’ll like me even better now.”

  He lifted a brow. “I think I’ve said this to you once before, Isadora…”

  I adore ya. She waited for the rhyme he loved, hoping she didn’t feel disappointment as he leaned into her ear to whisper the rest.

  “Whatever your name is,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  She closed her eyes and let the words she’d heard in her head echo over her heart, and there was no pain. Only love. Sweet, painless love.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “You just rest, child. I’ll be back in the morning.” Poppy tiptoed out of the bedroom, and Lila kept her eyes closed, hoping the fussing would end so she could be alone. With Gabe.

  They were well past forty-eight hours, and she’d get cleared to be up and about tomorrow, but Lila felt like a new woman.

  No, an old woman. The old woman she used to be. She was dying to test out this new head with Rafe and Gabe. Eager to let herself feel the deepest love and not suffer for it.

  That problem was solved, but what about her safety and security? And Rafe’s?

  She hadn’t been able to talk to Dexter yet. She’d sent a text about the death of David Foster, and the strangest thing happened: radio silence.

  Maybe Dex was trying to find out more about David’s involvement in what was happening before getting back to her.

  She pushed her worries aside for now, tired of thinking about it all. Tonight, finally, she was free to be herself in the confines of this villa. Gabe had made her rest, let Poppy nurse her, and now she felt fantastic. All she wanted to do was be with the man she loved and not be in pain.