by Zoe Forward
The word “Security” was embroidered in white down the guy’s black tactical shirtsleeve. His unflinching, steel-gray eyes coldly assessed her. They were the eyes of a man with supreme confidence in his abilities. A mind-read on him yielded only an image of single-minded focus on her. She shivered as a gust of wind pushed at her from behind.
“Who are you, and how do you know Mr. Ryan?” His eyes narrowed.
Kat sighed noisily in frustration. “Ask Matt. We’re old friends.”
“I need to see some ID.”
Kat frowned. ID? Right. She must have dropped her purse at Columbia, right before she shifted out and then here. She tapped her feet to wake up her toes. Vertigo swirled in her mind.
Time for mental persuasion ability, again. Twice in one day—far more than she’d attempted in ages. In a low, steady voice she said, “You will let me see Mr. Ryan. You don’t need to see my ID. I am who I seem.”
Several silent seconds passed during which Kat held her breath. This man had a strong will. Would it work?
An unexpected smile tipped the corners of the muscle man’s mouth. “Please, come in. I will arrange for you to see Mr. Ryan.”
She suppressed a proud smile as she followed the giant security guard into a sitting room.
“Mr. Ryan is busy at the moment. I’ll have Sam check to see when he may be available. Stay here.”
“Thanks.” She sat heavily on an off-white suede love seat and burrowed deeply into the wool coat, seeking warmth. The pain from her upper arm pulsated. She needed to replace the paper-towel bandage.
Exhaustion drummed through her. Her eyelids drooped as her body slowly warmed.
Her tired brain tried to formulate a plan to deal with Matt. She must ignore her body’s reaction and stay in control. Somehow, she must keep him at a distance and convince him to help her. Absolutely no touching, she ordered herself. The memory of his kisses blazed through her brain, infusing her body with the kind of heat she hadn’t been seeking. Renewed self-disgust surged. What was it about that man?
She snagged a jelly bean out of a glass container on the end table, popped it into her mouth, and relaxed.
Her peripheral vision caught the blurred movement of a four-legged, brown-and-white spotted, furry creature. She smiled when the German shorthaired pointer stuck its nose curiously into the room. In a soothing tone, she said, “I’m just a visitor. No threat.”
His head cocked to the side and his ears came up. His tail wagged and he trotted over to her, placing his head in her lap. Animals understood Kat, which was one reason she excelled as a veterinarian, and why she’d gravitated toward the field. She ran her hand lightly along the smooth, shiny coat of his head. “You’re in good shape, old man. They must take pretty good care of you.”
“This is unexpected,” Matt said quietly from the doorway. He granted her his panty-dropping grin.
She immediately straightened from her slouch. Her heart pounded so hard that her ribs ached. The startled dog barked and turned to sit protectively in front of her.
God, Matt was gorgeous. His eyes…his nose—straight, symmetrical, and simply flawless from any angle. And that earring, that hint of the bad boy that made him oh so sexy. Stop it.
Her breath hitched when she met the predatory glow in his gaze. She leaned back into the sofa as if that extra few inches of space could protect her from his magnetism. Moments later she felt light-headed and forced herself to slowly release her breath. No matter how badly her body raged with astonishing hormone overload, having a quickie in the Ryan mansion was not on the agenda. Remember, you’re injured and you need to talk magical stuff. How exactly did she broach that conversation?
He signaled to the dog, who ignored him. With a smile he muttered, “Insolent mutt.” Louder he said, “Come here, Milo.” The dog remained in lookout position at Kat’s feet. She chewed her lip to suppress a smile at Matt’s frustrated frown.
He rolled his eyes. “Milo doesn’t like anyone, not even Sam, who feeds him. But he seems to really like you.” He whistled commandingly and said, “Here, Milo.”
Milo glanced toward Kat, seeking confirmation of the command. She whispered, “Go. I’ll be okay.” The dog trotted to sit placidly at Matt’s left side.
“Traitor,” he said as he patted Milo’s head. “Are you the dog whisperer or something?”
“I’m pretty good with animals.”
“Are you okay? You look…pale.”
She met his concerned gaze. “I…it’s been a rather eventful day.”
“What kind of eventful?”
She sighed. “I don’t know why I’m here. Or really how I came to be here. I just am.” She expected a what-does-that-mean question to follow.
“Come. Let’s go into the office. Take off your coat and I’ll order you a drink.” Matt turned, plainly expecting her to follow.
Kat’s eyes drifted downward as she followed his tall form. His black jeans artfully draped his butt and highlighted his powerful thighs—perfection of shape that just begged to be touched. She cursed herself for noticing. Her face flamed hot.
Entering the office, she kept her eyes purposefully averted, knowing her flushed cheeks gave away too much. The enormous glass windows of the office allowed for an unobstructed one-eighty panorama of the darkening chaos over the bay. “Nice view,” she murmured, wandering closer to the window.
“Yes,” he said in a tone that suggested his appreciation had nothing to do with the harbor.
As she observed the snow blowing down to the water, she contemplated why something propelled her toward this man. Sure, she wanted him, even though at the moment the pain in her arm overrode that desire. Everything about him was straight out of her most erotic fantasy. She reasoned he couldn’t be interested in someone like her beyond the opportunity for another easy lay. She had to focus on her need for his help.
The dull thud of pain in her arm reminded her she needed to take a look at the wound soon. “Would you mind if I used your bathroom?”
He remained silent for a second longer than she expected. She turned her head toward him, raised an eyebrow.
Predatory promise darkened his gaze. A devilish grin lit up his face, sending her into a blushing frenzy.
“End of the hall on the left,” he said softly. “Tea, coffee, or something stronger?”
Something stronger sounded good, but an alcohol buzz guaranteed she’d lose control of this situation. “Coffee, please.”
Self-conscious, she exited the office, knowing he watched her every step. Milo quickly bounded to her side. Outside the bathroom she smiled at Milo. “You have to wait out here, buddy.” He sat down and sent her a pleading look. “I’ll just be a moment.”
In the bathroom, Kat caught her image in the mirror and cringed. Her face was so pale that the freckles stood out as the only coloration. Her auburn hair had escaped the braid at her back in multiple places, making her look a disheveled mess. She released the braid and shook out her hair, drew it into a ponytail.
She carefully peeled the T-shirt up her arm. Blood had crusted the fabric to her skin in multiple places and still oozed. As a doctor who had stitched up more animal injuries than she could remember, she knew it needed to be flushed and sutured. With no insurance or ID in Otherworld, how was she supposed to get that done? All she could do was hope it wouldn’t be long before she shifted back to her life.
Using the sink, she irrigated the wound with lukewarm water. Applying pressure didn’t stem the flow of blood. She needed a replacement bandage. Stat.
Before she could search the bathroom for something useful, blackness swarmed the periphery of her vision. Anticipating she was about to shift back to her world, she clawed for the shirt. The last thing she needed was to appear seminaked and bleeding in the middle of some new awkward situation. Her world turned black.
Chapter Ten
Matt glanced impatiently at his desk clock. Kat had been in the bathroom for nearly twenty minutes. Her coffee had come long ago and no longe
r steamed. No one needed that much time to primp, no matter how nervous she may be. She’d had the wide eyes of a deer in a hunter’s crosshairs when she left.
Maybe she jumped to her alternate. He hadn’t felt an energy buzz indicative of the power needed for that. Then again, he’d never spent enough time around a Pleiad to know for certain what it felt like when one jumped.
He walked to the bathroom, noting Milo remained camped out vigilantly on the floor in front of the door. He leaned over the dog’s body to knock. “Kat, everything okay in there?”
No answer.
Anxiety compressed his chest. She must’ve jumped. “I’m coming in unless you say something.” He turned the knob, finding it locked. He glanced down at the dog and nudged him gently with his foot. “Better move, Milo.” The dog rose with a grunt and stepped to the side. Using his body strength, he rammed the door until the lock broke.
Kat lay inert on the tile floor. His mind quickly cataloged her partial state of undress and the black lace bra. A bloody bandage lay discarded near the trash can and a scarlet pool had formed on the floor beneath her arm. He lurched to his knees and felt her neck until he found a pulse. He released a pent-up breath of relief.
He shook her, but she didn’t stir. To better evaluate the oozing wound on her arm, he gently rolled her. The jagged tear reminded him of similar injuries from his ranger days. Someone shot her? Protective fury flared. Maybe the OLM got to her again, or maybe she’d been shot in her alternate. This woman was amazing. He knew no woman who could tolerate this level of agony without complaining.
Words he hadn’t intoned for over a decade fell from Matt’s lips in a druid prayer to focus healing power. “Moí coire coir goiriath, gor rond n-ír. Día dam a dúile dnemrib.” The healing power within him flowed into her. He allowed her to borrow energy from him.
He halted before he entirely healed the wound on her arm. Her skin was still too pale, but she breathed evenly and her body felt warmer. A final healing session would demonstrate his special ability to her, and perhaps give him an opening to discuss her Pleiades status.
He rolled her onto her back. What the hell? Kat had a C-section? The yoga pants were a little too loose, making the area gape open. Did she have a child in her alternate?
A possessive, bitter anger surged. Her giving another man a child was unimaginable. She’d said there wasn’t a man waiting for her at home, but maybe there had been. Maybe she’d been married and they divorced. No. No sane heterosexual man would let go of her. She never did answer his question about marriage. Betrayal more vicious than anything he experienced with his dead wife swamped his mind.
One glance at her chest and betrayal and anger drifted away. His heart raced. He stared at the dog tags hanging from her neck.
Holy shit.
He rocked backward and fell onto his butt. He’d thought the OLM had stolen those twin medallions when he, Bryce, and Quinn had been captured while defending a Pleiad who’d thankfully gotten away.
His memories of that week of incarceration remained hazy. The OLM had experimented on him like a lab rat once they discovered his super-healing ability. Then a miraculous woman appeared as if out of thin air and helped him escape. He remembered her voice, but he’d been disoriented from blood loss and the potent drug cocktail the OLM shot into him, not to mention temporarily blinded as a weird drug side effect. He’d assumed the lady was a guilty employee, but hadn’t considered Kat.
Memories he’d locked away crowded his brain from a time he’d worked hard to forget.
“Bryce, get Matt out of here. Please. You owe me this.” Quinn’s eyes drifted closed. When his eyes reopened he stared intently at Bryce. “Come close.” Quinn whispered something in Bryce’s ear that caused Bryce’s gaze to jump to Matt. Loudly Quinn ordered, “Both of you get out of here. Destroy this place. I’m not long for this world.”
Bryce backed away from Quinn and grabbed Matt’s arm. Matt shrugged him off and yelled. “No! I can help him. We’re not leaving him here like this.”
Bryce whipped Matt into a headlock. “This is what he wants. I’m sorry for this.”
That was the last thing Matt remembered before Bryce knocked him out. He later learned Bryce had carried him from the building. Then he’d blown the place sky high with Quinn inside. The bio-dad he idolized incinerated.
When he regained consciousness, Matt had walked away from Bryce and the druids, recanting any vow he’d ever made to the Society.
Chapter Eleven
Kat clawed her way to consciousness, faintly smelling vanilla potpourri. She scanned the low-lit room—sleek, modern, and in hues of gray. Massive landscape paintings took up most of two walls. She wasn’t an art person and couldn’t identify the artist, but appreciated their beauty. The room lacked personal items and the random crap that came with being lived in daily. So it must be a guest room.
She pushed to a sit and plucked at an oversize navy-blue T-shirt decorated with a logo she didn’t recognize. The shirt was her only clothing other than panties. Where was she? She worried that she’d changed worlds again.
A muscular ache resonated from her right arm. She touched the area. It was bandaged? She peeked beneath the gauze. Her wound had been cleaned and neatly sutured.
A shadow emerged from the corner of the room, moving slowly. “Ready to explain why I found you passed out on my bathroom floor?”
Her gaze jerked to Matt. Relief swept through her that she hadn’t done a world jump and ended up in some weirdo’s bed. How would he respond to the truth about the wound? She said the first thing that popped into her mind. “You know how to suture?”
“I spent four years as an Army Ranger. I’ve seen a few bullet wounds.” His tone didn’t change from its mild timbre. “Who shot you?”
The closer he got, the more vulnerable she felt. His glittering blue eyes never left hers during his slow stalk. Self-preservation had her on hyperalert. She wasn’t sure what she feared more: his interrogation mode or the sexual way his gaze slid over her body. She croaked out, “You were a Ranger?”
He halted when only a few feet separated them. His imposing presence sucked the oxygen from the air around her. “What happened?”
Her head buzzed like she’d had a glass or two of wine, which she wanted to blame on his proximity. Most likely exhaustion and blood loss were to blame. A loud stomach growl made her add hunger to the list.
“Why should I trust you?” Her eyes narrowed. “All I really know about you is that you’re not loyal to your girlfriends, you treat one-night stands like crap, and apparently you’ve made quite a name for yourself not only in the business world, but also in the bedroom since we last met.”
“Do you even know who’s after you?” he demanded. His unblinking gaze intimidated.
She wondered at his tone. He seemed to expect her to answer. Was he trying to use some sort of magic coercion on her? If so, it wasn’t working.
He stepped closer. “Did someone else try to kidnap you?” The menace on his face was enough to terrify a normal person into spilling her entire life’s story. She suspected he wasn’t mad at her, but at her attacker.
She met his determined stare mutely, trying to decipher his mood.
The darkness in his face smoothed into an unreadable intensity. “Please. Tell me what happened this time.”
“Another random guy decided to take me out this morning when I refused to be kidnapped. I have no clue why. I don’t know who wants to kidnap me or how they found me.”
“Damn it. I don’t know if I’m angrier that someone shot you, or that you didn’t tell me you’d been hurt. What are you into?”
“Nothing.” She met his doubtful glower without flinching. “Honestly, I’m not into anything. It’s got to be a case of mistaken identity.” Even though the kidnappers knew my name.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked gently.
“Yeah. Thanks for fixing me up.”
His gaze slid over her face, brow furrowed. “I need you to expl
ain the fact that Katherine Ramsey apparently doesn’t exist.”
She reeled for a second at the conversation detour. “You had me investigated?”
“What do you expect? You disappeared years ago into thin air. Then you just as suddenly reappeared the other day. So, why don’t you exist?”
“That’s a bit complicated.” She glanced down and fiddled with a loose thread on the comforter.
“Try me. I might understand.”
I can travel between worlds. She wanted his help. The words were on the tip of her tongue. But suddenly she still feared he’d judge her crazy. “I’m pretty certain whoever is shooting at me probably isn’t interested in you,” Of course, that made it sound like she might have a clue why some guys had been after her, which wasn’t true.
Matt’s lower jaw worked back and forth.
Her heart beat so hard and so fast in response to his intense scrutiny that she felt dizzy and breathless. You shouldn’t be turned on by this. This now became a more dangerous situation. If he touched her, she was a goner. Then there’s being humiliated again. Escape was crucial. She rose from the bed, fully focused on departing.
She announced, “I have to go.”
Matt grabbed her arm and halted her. “Sit. We need to talk.”
“Let me go.” She glared at his hand where it clamped onto her forearm.
In a smooth twist, he lifted her and laid her on the bed, lying on top of her. She wriggled to get away.
“Stop it. You’re going to hurt yourself.” He gently restrained her beneath him. She bucked against him for freedom. He gripped her wrists and held them above her head, pinning her with the strength of his muscular arms. “Where are you from?” The determined tone was at odds with the concern in his gaze.