by CJ Roberts
Oh God. He was the one lying in a hospital bed, and he was comforting her. As she’d sat in vigil by his bedside, she’d been so worried, so scared. She’d prayed to God and every saint she’d ever heard of. And this time, her prayers had been answered. She could have stayed like this forever, wrapped in the circle of his arms, her head tucked under his chin. It didn’t matter if it was dangerous for her to be here. It only mattered that he was alive.
Pulling back to see his beautiful blue eyes, she smiled and kissed his cheek. “You really had me scared.”
Nic gazed into her eyes, kissing first one tear-stained cheek, then the other before pressing his lips to hers in a sweet, tender kiss. Then, a small smile curving his lips, he lay back against the pillow and drifted to sleep.
For several minutes, Lauren didn’t dare move for fear of shattering the moment. She was exactly where she wanted to be. But he needed his rest. She kissed his cheek again and maneuvered out of his hold, trying not disturb him or the multitude of equipment that surrounded him.
She sank onto her chair, utterly drained, and leaned her head against the seat back. She’d rest while Nic slept. But as soon her eyes closed, the events of the past few hours raced through her thoughts.
Vivian had urged the police to investigate. While Nic’s behavior last night may have been business as usual for most movie stars, it had definitely been out of character for him. Vivian had fought for him when he’d been unable to fight for himself. Nic had been right about her; she was a good friend. Lauren felt a pinching in her chest. She had no right to envy Vivian’s relationship with Nic, but she did.
“Lorna, dear. You really should go to the hotel and get some rest. Nic will be scared out of his wits if he sees you like this.”
Startled by Vivian’s abrupt entrance, Lauren scrambled to sit up. Vivian cared about Nic, but it wasn’t enough to make Lauren like her, and this was a perfect example of why.
“Nic did wake up.” She smiled victoriously. “And he didn’t look at all frightened.”
“What? When?” Vivian raced across the room to Nic’s bed. She ran a finger under his chin and traced the outline of the bandage above his eye. “Was he awake long?”
Unable to stomach Vivian’s tender expression and the familiar way she combed a dark lock of hair off his forehead, Lauren turned away before answering. “A couple minutes.” Remembering the staff’s instructions to let them know of any change, Lauren rose from her seat. “I need to alert the nurses.” She practically ran from the room.
Why did she let Vivian get to her? From everything Nic had said, Vivian had some driving need to protect his image, almost to the point of obsession. But Vivian’s need went beyond protecting his image. Lauren got the impression Vivian thought she needed to protect Nic from her. And how ridiculous was that? Brusquely wiping away the tears slipping down her cheeks, she walked to the nurse’s station.
After speaking with the head nurse, she bought a coffee from the vending machine at the end of the hall. The hot liquid soothed her dry throat. The orgasmic expression on Nic’s face when he’d taken his first few tastes of coffee in her small kitchen flashed through her mind. Smiling, she took another sip. He’d been pleased to see her when he’d woken up. She’d done the right thing in coming.
When Lauren returned, Dr. Jacob was examining Nic’s chart while two men stood to the side talking with Vivian. They introduced themselves as Detectives Anderson and Becker.
Becker addressed Dr. Jacob. “Doctor, we have additional details concerning Mr. Lamoureux’s activities last night. Eyewitnesses say Ms. Rayne joined Mr. Lamoureux at 9:45 PM. They danced, he ordered more drinks, and then he left to use the restroom. At the time, he appeared sober. The only event of note was a so-called Paparazzi Kiss during the dance.”
He checked his notes before continuing. “Fifteen minutes after he returned from the restroom, the couple was behaving in an overtly sexual manner. When they left the bar at 11:00 PM, Mr. Lamoureux was unable to walk unassisted.”
Anderson took over. “Given the eyewitness accounts and the results of previous testing showing no excessive alcohol or recreational drug use, doctor, we would like Mr. Lamoureux to be tested for predator drugs.”
Vivian’s eyebrows shot up. “Predator drugs? What are those?”
“They’re drugs used by sexual predators to render their victims passive and unable to resist or assert themselves,” Becker explained.
Lauren nodded. “Date-rape drugs.” She’d heard about them on the news.
“Exactly,” Anderson confirmed. “We believe this woman, Summer Rayne, slipped one of these drugs into Mr. Lamoureux’s beer.”
Vivian paled. If the police were correct, Vivian had introduced Nic to the woman who’d drugged him. Of course, it wasn’t Vivian’s fault, but guilt had to be eating at her.
Dr. Jacob considered the detective’s request. “The use of such a drug would be consistent with many of the symptoms Mr. Lamoureux has been experiencing: excessive sedation, impairment of balance and speech, respiratory depression, low blood pressure, and stomach disturbances.”
“It’s not too late to run the tests?” Vivian asked.
“These drugs stay in the blood for about 24 hours and in urine up to 36 hours, sometimes longer. I suspect flunitrazepam, but I’ll order tests for gamma hydroxy butyrate and ketamine hydrochloride as well. Once we know what he took, we can give him an antidote.”
Lauren looked at Nic’s sleeping form and then turned to Dr. Jacob. “Flunitra—?”
“Flunitrazepam,” the doctor finished. “You may know it as Rohypnol, or by its street name roofies.”
The doctor left to order the tests, and Vivian stepped into the hall to confer with the detectives regarding the statement she would release to the press.
Lauren sat on the edge of Nic’s bed, studying his face as she stroked his stubbled cheek. When Todd would awaken from nightmares of his time in combat, she’d hug him until he went back to sleep. Looking at Nic now, she longed to stretch out beside him and hold him tightly.
With the tip of her finger, she traced the dark circles under his eyes and sighed. Nic had been right. His life was dangerous. Could she deal with the reality of Nic’s life on a daily basis?
Terror had gripped her when Nic opened the package containing the doll with the broken neck. Fear for him and for herself. But mostly for Jason. And it was out of fear that she’d agreed with Nic’s decision to not see each other. She didn’t agree anymore. He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. But there were other ways.
Violence had stolen Todd from her, but it wouldn’t steal Nic.
Life was too damn short.
Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the center of the room with a silvery glow, but leaving the edges in darkness. The excruciating nausea-inducing pain in his skull had lessened to a dull throbbing. Careful not to jar his head, he looked around.
An IV tube stuck out of his arm. Machines beeped somewhere behind him. Why was he in the hospital?
He’d gone to Taylor’s to meet Summer. Vague memories circled in his mind. Eyes closed, he concentrated until one crystallized. Vivian had found him puking his guts out, unable to move or call for help. Shit.
What had he done to make himself so sick?
Suddenly a vision of making love to Lauren surfaced. Lauren? Focusing, he tried to identify where they’d been. His room. Was the memory real?
He groaned as a wave of dizziness caused the room to spin and bile to rise in his throat. A shadow stirred in the chair. His blood ran cold. Swallowing, he pushed the nausea down and managed to turn his head toward the movement.
Someone was in the room.
Was it the stalker? Summer? His chest tight, he struggled to breathe. He fumbled around, trying to locate the call button. If he could alert the nurses…
The shape grew, looming above him in the murky moonlight.
“Who… who’s there?” he croaked. Christ, he sounded like an owl. He forced back an
insane urge to laugh. He had to calm down. The last time he’d felt this vulnerable, Rachel had been hurt, bleeding.
No. Damn it. He wouldn’t think about that now.
The shadowy figure moved closer. The pounding of his heart matched the pounding in his head.
“Darling. You’re awake.”
Vivian perched on the side of his bed and turned on the personal reading light above his head. Relief washed over him, draining the tension from his body. As her soft hand cradled his cheek, he felt a sudden sense of déjà vu. His view of Vivian was overlaid with a vision of Lauren, cradling his cheek in much the same way. His eyebrows beetled in confusion as he heard Lauren’s voice say, “You’re awake. Thank God.”
His heart began to race and he panted, unable to catch his breath. Vivian—or was it Lauren?—placed a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Nic. It’s over.”
Eyes closed, he breathed deeply, and then blinked several times to clear his vision. Lauren faded away, leaving Vivian sitting on his bed. Wow, fucking weird. He could have sworn Lauren had been right here, that she’d spoken. But it wasn’t possible. She was safe at home where he’d left her. Nic pushed a hand against his chest to ease the pain. He’d been going crazy with the need to see her, to hear her voice.
He’d done the right thing. But it still hurt like hell.
Concern in her eyes, Vivian smoothed his hair off his forehead. “Let me get the doctor. He’s been waiting for you to wake up again.”
Again?
Nic watched her leave. He balled his fists. Dammit! Why couldn’t he remember?
A few minutes later, Vivian returned, accompanied by a short balding man wearing a lab coat over black trousers. “Hello, Mr. Lamoureux. I’m Dr. Jacob. It’s good to see you awake. How do you feel?”
“Not so good,” he grunted. “Tired, nauseous. What day is it?”
“Friday evening. You’ve been here since early this morning.”
Nic stared at the doctor in shock.
“Do you remember anything?”
“Not much. I went to Taylors last night to meet Summer Rayne. The next thing I remember is Vivian finding me.”
“Your test results show you ingested Rohypnol along with some alcohol.”
Nic narrowed his eyes at the doctor. “Rohypnol? The date-rape drug?”
The doctor maintained a serene expression. “The police suspect Ms. Rayne gave it to you without you knowing.”
Nic’s breath caught in his throat. Fucking bitch!
Vivian put her hand on his shoulder. “Darling, do you remember what happened at the bar?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Everything’s a big jumble.” He closed his eyes as a hazy memory began to surface. “I bought us some drinks and we danced.” He paused. “We talked for a while but I don’t remember what we talked about. The rest is a blank until Vivian found me.”
Dr. Jacob nodded. “Rohypnol, especially when mixed with alcohol, is known to cause anterograde amnesia. Your memory may return, but it is also entirely possible that you may never remember what happened.”
“Have the police questioned Summer? Are they sure she’s the one who did this?”
Vivian answered this time. “I spoke with the detectives assigned to your case. Summer hasn’t been located yet. But they retrieved packets of Rohypnol from her apartment.” She sat on his bed and held his hand in her lap.
Nic turned away. He didn’t want pity; he wanted to rip Summer’s fucking head off. Adrenaline surged and his heart started to pump like a locomotive. He bolted upright, yanked his hand out of Vivian’s grip, and swung his legs off the side of the bed.
The fucking bitch had drugged him!
The doctor rushed forward, pushing a hand against his chest. “Mr. Lamoureux, I know you’re angry. You have every right to be, but you need to calm down.”
Nic’s molars ground together, and he spoke through clenched teeth. “With all due respect, doctor. Get out of my fucking way.”
“Darling! Please.” Vivian shot an apologetic look at the doctor, pissing Nic off even more. “Lie down. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“What? You mean I might pull out my IV?” He grabbed hold of the tube on his forearm and yanked out the needle. “Like this?” Fu-u-u-ck! Maybe he should’ve thought that through.
Vivian gasped. Dr. Jacob pulled a square package out of a drawer and ripped it open as he approached the bed. “We need to stop the bleeding.”
Nic straightened to his full height, towering over the smaller man, and snarled. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
Dr. Jacob bristled and threw the gauze into the trash beside the bed. “Let me know when you get yourself under control.” As the doctor stormed out of the room, Nic heard him mutter something about Hollywood divas.
Vivian pointed to the tube sticking out from under his hospital gown and arched a brow. “Are you going to pull the catheter out too? I hear it’s quite painful.”
Nic looked down at his crotch and sighed. Pulling a tube out of his arm was one thing, but pulling one out of his dick was something else entirely. He needed to switch tactics. “Get the doctor to release me. I want to go home. Tonight. And where’s my phone? I have to call Kaden.” He needed someone on his side.
“Here.” She handed him her phone. “Kaden has yours. I’ll talk to the doctor, but I really think you should stay here, at least until morning.”
“Why?”
“Thousands of your fans are holding a vigil for you right outside this hospital. How do you think they’ll feel if you sneak out and go home?”
He shrugged. “I can speak to them first.”
“I understand how you feel. I hate hospitals, too.” She laughed bitterly. “Here’s the thing. If you stay tonight, we’ll get you released properly, have a press conference, and then you go home. Everyone will leave you alone to recuperate. If you sneak out now, the media and the fans will follow you and stake out your loft. Is that what you want?”
He blew out a breath and fell back against the bed. Christ. Vivian was right. “I’ll play this your way, but come morning, I’m out of here. Make sure the doctor knows.”
“Of course, darling.”
“And get a nurse in here. I want this fucking catheter out. I refuse to be tethered to this place by my dick.”
She smiled, then leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry, darling. Everything will be all right. I’ll make sure of it.” After patting his hand, she left the room.
Nic smashed his fist into the mattress. He didn’t need Vivian to clean up this mess. As soon as he got out, he’d find Summer, he’d find the stalker, and he’d find out what the hell was going on.
And then he’d put an end to this fucking nightmare.
From the doorway of an empty room, Lauren watched Vivian walk toward the elevators. She didn’t want to deal with her tonight. She simply wanted to sit by Nic’s bed and hold his hand while he slept away the last lingering effects of the Rohypnol.
When she entered Nic’s room, she had to catch her breath. Even with mussed hair and a sallow complexion, he was still the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. And he was awake! More than awake. He stood, staring out the window in his hospital gown. She could hear his fans calling out to him.
When he leaned forward to wave to the crowd, the back opening of his gown shifted, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of a muscular, perfectly curved butt cheek. Using all her willpower, she forced her eyes to move up his body. When her gaze landed on the new bandage around his arm, she gasped.
He spun around, his intense gaze fixed on her. “You are here,” he said, disbelief evident in his voice. Lauren froze. Why was he acting so surprised?
His face darkened and his eyes narrowed. His voice sounded cold, harsh even. “Why the hell aren’t you in Seattle?” She could practically hear his teeth grinding. “I thought I made it clear we couldn’t see each other again.”
Lauren’s stomach plummeted to the tiled floor. Nic continued to watch her, lips pres
sed into a tight line. They came from different worlds, and nothing lasting could come of their attraction for each other. She got that. But she’d honestly thought that they were becoming friends, that he’d want her here.
“My mistake,” she said, heading for the door.
“Lauren… wait.”
Keeping her back turned to hide the tears that threatened to spill, she massaged the pain in her chest with her hand. “I don’t think there’s anything else to say.” She was so stupid. He didn’t need her. He had Vivian.
“I’m handling this badly. Come, sit for a minute.”
Irritated with herself, she wiped the corners of her eyes before turning around. Nic sat on his bed and motioned to the chair in front of him. Slowly, she walked over and perched on the edge of the seat, staring at her hands folded in her lap.
“Lauren. Please, look at me.” Hearing the ache in his voice, she lifted her gaze but kept her mouth clamped shut. He’d have to do the talking.
“I was caught off-guard and my head hurts like a motherfu—” He stopped himself and swallowed before continuing. “But that’s no excuse. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
She nodded but remained silent. He’d apologized for the way he’d spoken to her but not for what he’d said.
“When did you get here?”
“This afternoon.”
“Why?”
“Kaden called and told me what was going on. He thought I could help. So, I jumped on a plane and came here.” Fool that I was.
When he raised a hand to scratch his cheek, she again saw the bandage. “What happened to your IV tube?”
“I pulled it out.”
“What? Why?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to leave. Christ. I still want to leave, and I would if it weren’t for all my fans outside. I don’t know if this mess with Summer is connected to the stalker, but I’m going to find out.”
“Shouldn’t you let the police handle this?”
He snorted. “You saw how much help they were last weekend.”
“But it’s different now. The detectives were the ones to push for the predator drug testing.”