True to form, Collin merely stared at her for a moment and then turned away, strolling through the open door.
She squinted at the beautiful blonde dressed in scrubs who stopped him in the doorway. The woman held out a chart and said something Olivia couldn’t hear as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. Collin replied and the woman laughed. A big smile broke across his face. Handsome even while somber and grim, his smile showed how dangerous he could be if he half tried. She fisted her hands. Her desire to strangle the blonde confused her. Why should she care who he talked to? Then she recognized the heavy clenching in her chest—jealousy.
Her heartbeat sped up. Jealousy? Ages had passed since she felt that emotion. Last time she’d been only a kid, watching families in the park across from the foster home she’d been placed in one summer.
That was why she made it a point to not visit parks or any place where families congregated. She hated the feeling and avoided entanglements for that reason. One-night stands helped her evade the tender emotions and the more powerful sentiments that could get someone killed. Never had she felt anything but hatred or lust for a man. The only solution to stop feeling this way was to pull her wits together and find a way to escape.
Her eyes drifted closed. She took several steady breaths, in the nose, out the mouth. Her heartbeat slowed and the unwanted feelings eased up.
She pressed her toes against the hospital bed footboard, pretending it was a wood plank. With all her being, she listened for the bobwhite’s call in the trees as the wind rustled the leaves. Her swing gently rocked back and forth. The smell of bread baking drifted out of the screened door as she heard a woman’s laughter. Another deep breath and the clenching in her chest eased up a little more. Her little exercise worked like always. Thank goodness she still controlled part of her emotions.
“How’s my patient this morning?” The blond woman peered over the chart at her with finely plucked brows raised.
Olivia looked toward the empty doorway. Her stomach churned. Was Collin planning to let this woman interrogate her?
She returned her attention to the blonde.
“Be kind enough to loosen the straps. You’ve cut off the circulation to my toes and fingers.”
All she needed was a little wiggle room beneath the straps and she’d be out of there in sixty seconds flat.
“Better, I see,” the blonde said.
Was she deaf? Before she could tell the nurse how she truly felt, two large men dressed all in white stepped into the room. Looking a little closer she recognized them as the EMTs from her hotel room.
“Dr. Shelton, Mr. Ryker said to help you if she gives you any trouble,” the shorter one said.
So she was a doctor. Blondie shook her head.
“I’ll be fine. I need to examine Ms. St. Vincent and she doesn’t need you watching. Tell Jennifer to come and help.”
“You don’t understand who you have here,” the taller EMT warned.
“Collin filled me in.” The doctor looked at Olivia. “You’re not going to try anything, are you?” Not giving Olivia a chance to answer, the doctor turned back to the EMTs. “I plan to check her vitals to make sure the dosage of Twilight Sleep he gave her didn’t have any lasting side effects.” She shooed out the EMTs. “So now go.”
Twilight? It was a fancy name for a combination of morphine and scopolamine. A knockout drug. Only wimpy men who wanted to take advantage of women in bars used stuff like that.
That son of a bitch! What did he do to her while she was out? That was playing dirty for sure.
Olivia eyed the blond doctor as the woman pulled down the sheet and examined the bruises on her side. Immediately chill bumps covered her from arms to ankles and were followed by waves of heat as she blushed. She squeezed her fists. Bad enough a stranger was touching and moving her from one side to the other as she lay there helpless. She hated being treated like a piece of meat.
“A dry throat and a little bit of dizziness are common symptoms along with hallucinations. I’ve been told some see little people.” The doctor laughed and leaned over, pulling Olivia’s eyes wide open and shining a light in each pupil.
“Doc, throw the sheet back over me,” Olivia said between clenched teeth.
“What? Oh. Don’t worry, as my grandmother used to say, only us chickens in here.” The doctor laughed, but lost her smile when Olivia continued to glower at her. “Sorry. Sure.” She tossed the sheet over her body. “Call me Anne.”
Olivia turned her face to the wall. She didn’t need a friend.
“Dr. Shelton, you need my help?”
Olivia turned to see who entered. A small brunette in pink scrubs with tiny cupids stepped through the doorway.
After a quick and humiliating examination, they took a couple vials of blood, swabbed her mouth, and even pulled a few strands of hair. Olivia fumed as she waited for one of them to make a mistake by loosening the fastenings, allowing her to make her escape.
Then her opportunity came. The doctor left the room after telling the brunette to get fingernail clippings. They were determined to leave her without even a shred of dignity.
“Please relax your hand. This won’t take long.” The little nurse pulled at her hand.
“Could you loosen the strap? When I relax my hand, the edges pinch my skin. It hurts and all the circulation has gone,” Olivia said in her most pitiful tone.
“Oh, I don’t know.” The brunette’s gaze darted to the door and back to the hospital bed.
“I’m not asking you to untie me, just loosen it a bit.” She could only hope her helpless act worked.
“I guess loosening it would be okay.”
The nurse reached for the strap on her wrist and took her ever-loving time pulling up the top Velcro strip.
As soon as Olivia felt the tightness give, she thrust her arm up and grabbed the nurse by the neck and butted her head.
The nurse hadn’t expected the move. Dazed by the hit, the woman slowly sank to the floor, holding her head. Olivia yanked off the other fastenings and jumped over the railing of the bed. She stumbled. In seconds, her weak legs found purchase and her training kicked in as she worked without mishap.
In seconds, the nurse was strapped to the hospital bed with a piece of gauze stuffed in her mouth and held in place with a tape from a nearby tray. The woman shook from terror but Olivia made sure not to bruise her. The poor woman had been only doing her job.
What a shame the nurse was too small to donate her uniform. Olivia wrapped a sheet around her torso. It would have to suffice until she came across someone closer to her size.
She peeked around the opened door into the hallway. About fifteen feet away, Doctor Blondie stood with her back to Olivia and beyond the doc a green exit sign glowed. Jumping the doctor was an option.
No. Not really. Hostages created trouble and only got in the way of escaping a bad situation. Grimacing, Olivia looked toward the other end of the hall. Several open doors and a large window at the end of the hall offered a way out.
Hmm. The window would be doable if not for being visible to the doctor. Maybe there were windows in the rooms on the other side of the building. After a quick check on the doctor, who hadn’t moved, Olivia darted into the hallway. Several long strides brought her to the last room on the left. She glanced out the window and judged she was on the third floor. Without waiting a second longer, she stepped into the room.
No windows. Well, shit!
Okay. The empty room looked a lot like the one she’d left.
She took a quick look down the hallway. The doc was gone. All clear. Waiting any longer would narrow her chances of an escape, so she darted toward the exit. She slid to a stop. An adjoining hallway with a nurses’ station stood between her and the stairway exit.
No one was there. The brunette probably belonged to that station.
Olivia zipped past and pushed open the door. In seconds, she was leaning against the stairwell wall gasping. Damn! Her knees and hands shook. The drugs played havoc with her system as her energy fell to almost nil.
Listening for shouts or footsteps, she remained still, trying to control her breathing. First, she needed clothes and shoes, and then a way out and to The Circle headquarters. She eased down the stairs and stopped on the second floor. Pressing her ear to the door, concentrating on identifying the sounds, her gaze traveled up the wall. All the air left her lungs.
A camera. The red light blinked like crazy at her. Fucking cameras were everywhere nowadays. In her line of work, she used them to her advantage but she still hated them.
She took a deep breath and concentrated on finding a way out. Just because cameras pointed her way didn’t mean someone watched at that very moment. Yet chances were that her ass was on prime time.
She turned the lever and pulled it open. Across the way another door stood ajar. From what she could see, the office had windows and in one corner stood a rack with a long black trench coat waiting for its owner. No sounds of fingers clicking on a keyboard or shuffling of paperwork came from the room. Perfect.
After looking up and down the hall, she dashed into the office. Empty. The computer monitor showed a chart with a rainbow of colors instead of a screen saver. Had the owner just left for a break or planned to return in seconds?
Wasting time worrying wouldn’t help. She left the door cracked, dropped the sheet, and scurried into the coat. It brushed her toes. The guy was a giant.
Her fingers thumbed the buttons closed all the way to her neck and then she flipped up the collar. The fabricated air in the building was a little on the chilly side. She inhaled. A man’s cologne clung to the cloth. Nice scent.
Time to get out of there. Shoes would be nice but she wasn’t pressing her luck. Probably seven minutes had passed without an alarm. Not bad so far.
She checked the windows. Who in their right mind designed a building with windows that wouldn’t open? For only a fraction of second did she consider wrapping the sheet around her hand and busting the pane. Pressing her cheek to the glass, she looked down at the ground and noticed how the windows interlocked with the outside wall in a smooth finish.
No toeholds. This side of the building looked over a courtyard, revealing two more floors below street level. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she sighed. She was roughly forty feet up. That meant the only way out was through a street-level exit.
She scurried over to the door. No sounds from the hallway. The building was one of the most deserted she’d ever been in. Maybe it was lunchtime.
Taking one step toward the door and stairs, she heard voices and footsteps echoing in the stairwell. Well, wasn’t she lucky?
Gritting her teeth, she looked left and right in the hallway. Not waiting to see if they were coming for her, she picked a direction and ran. The hallway curved and then turned into another wing of the building. She took the corner blindly. Then she slammed into a solid mass.
A broad chest flattened her nose. Without hesitation she hooked her foot around a leather clad ankle and kicked back as she shoved her fist into his hard stomach. The man stumbled but somehow held onto his balance as he reached out and grabbed her hair.
“What the hell?” a deep voice shouted above her.
She aimed for his groin, but he anticipated the move and hit her with an uppercut.
The bastard had a fist made of steel. Stars floated in front of her face.
Funny. Birds really do chirp above a person’s head just like in cartoons.
Then everything went black.
“D
id you have to hit her so hard?” Collin glanced over to his best friend and second in command, Rex Drago. The big man stood to the side with his arms crossed, glaring at the unconscious woman strapped down in the hospital bed.
With a tender touch, Collin applied an ice pack to Olivia’s swollen chin.
Anne was tending another patient and the dark-haired nurse, Jennifer, refused to come into the room. She was still shook up from the treatment Olivia had dealt her earlier. That the nurse still lived gave Collin hope for The Circle operative. Rumors were she wasn’t known for her restraint.
He’d only found out what happened after they brought her back unconscious into the clinic, and within a few minutes of arriving in the room he’d realized no one would tend to her. The staff resented her treatment of Jennifer. Ordering them to take care of Olivia would be easy but he wanted to be near when she woke up. So here he was playing nursemaid, ice pack in hand, trying to reduce the swelling.
“You better be glad that’s all I did. That slut deserves to die a slow and painful death,” Rex growled.
The scar across his nose and the other one near the corner of his mouth met in a vee on his cheekbone, pulling his upper lip in a grimace.
“No one is certain she was the one who pulled the trigger. We’ve discussed this. It could have been someone else,” Collin reminded him.
Rex had fallen in love with another operative who’d been killed by one of The Circle’s assassins five years earlier. She’d died two weeks before their wedding. For his friend to lose his cool proved Rex hadn’t recovered from her death. He shouldn’t be here.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s brushed with the same filth.” Rex’s eyes glittered with hate for all things connected to The Circle.
“I believe it would be best if you returned to your office for further orders.” Collin needed to find him a mission and soon.
Rex stiffened. The flicker of hurt in the man’s light gray eyes almost had Collin relenting. They were at war with The Circle and the last thing anyone needed from him was sympathy. Sympathy could get someone killed.
“Fine. I need to go and throw my coat into the incinerator anyway. I would never get her stench out of it otherwise.” Rex stomped out of the room.
“That’s a shame. Nice coat,” a hoarse voice commented.
Collin looked into eyes as green as the emeralds his dad had given his mom on their twenty-fifth anniversary. Their last to celebrate before the car bomb killed his family.
“How do you feel?” He tossed the ice pack onto a tray next to the bed.
How much had she heard? Her eyes searched the room. Was she already planning her next escape? The woman fascinated him. Deadly with a hidden vulnerability she’d let him see for a fleeting moment in the hotel room. He doubted she even realized she’d done so.
Her gaze burned into his. “What’s Big Foot’s name?
He purposely ignored her question as he lifted the strips, releasing her. “They’re bringing your dinner in about five minutes. You’ve been out for about ten hours. There are three guards outside your door. All trained in hand-to-hand combat and have instructions to match hit for hit times two. If you kill one of the guards, I can assure you I’ll make your death a slow and painful one.”
“I was out that long?” She rubbed her wrists, cutting her eyes to him. “You’ll kill me yourself?”
“Yes,” he bit off. Did the wheels in her brain ever drop below warp speed?
“Ha! You didn’t have to think on that one, did you? Better men have tried.” She smirked and flinched, lightly fingering the bruise on her chin.
Collin stepped back as the orderly walked in carrying her dinner. The fellow arranged the tray on the over-bed table and rolled it to her. Then he smiled, eyebrows raised, as he cranked up the head of the bed.
She smiled back. “Thank you.” Sugar nearly dripped off her lips. The orderly leered at her and made a big show of arranging the small bowls and accessories.
Her sheet dropped to the tips of her breasts. The hint of coral areolas peeked over the edge. The orderly’s eyes bugged and Collin couldn’t take it anymore.
“Get out,” Collin snapped, pointing to the door. Red-faced, the man scurried out of the room.
Though he enjoyed the seductive sight too, he needed to get the woman a hospital gown or shirt, anything to cover her up. She was treacherous naked.
“You’re terribly rude to your slaves.”
No way would he respond to that. “Eat.” He unwrapped the utensils and handed her a plastic spoon. “Don’t think of using it for anything but food.”
“I can’t imagine why you don’t trust me.” She eyed the food with revulsion. “What is this?” Jabbing at the mashed potatoes, her spoon slipped and she knocked the small bowl of green Jell-O off the tray upside down onto her lap. “Bloody hell, it’s alive!”
Eyes wide and her mouth stretched in a frown, she looked like a little girl spotting a frog in her pocket. He burst out laughing. She looked up at him and her expression changed from disgust to frustration. He couldn’t help laughing harder.
She shook her head as she examined the mess. “I can’t believe you laughed. Actually I wasn’t sure if you knew how.” She cut her eyes toward him, her distrust closing up her face.
Without thinking his actions through, he leaned over and scooped up the Jell-O and tossed it back into the bowl. Shoving the tray and over-bed table out of the way with more strength than necessary, he kept his eyes on it until the table hit the wall with a bang.
“I’ll tell them to bring you another meal.” He chuckled and returned his attention to her. His hand grabbed her wrist.
Frozen in midair, her hand reaching for the holster beneath his jacket, she met his gaze with a guilty one. The sheet was bunched at her feet as she was on all fours. Her full breasts swayed with the quick movement. He looked at the bare length of her back, all the way to the small dip above her buttocks—nice rounded ones perfect for cradling a man’s stomach.
He released her wrist and grabbed her chin, forcing her back onto her haunches until they were eye to eye. The hardness between his legs begged for release, but he reminded himself that if he listened to his cock, the woman looking at him with such pretend longing would probably cut it off and feed it to him.
“What?” One wing-shaped brow lifted.
“I’ll not warn you again. Any further attempts of escape or potential harm to others under the OS control will be met with harsh punishment.” He released his hold and pushed her shoulders back onto the bed.
“What would you do? Threaten me to death?” she asked as her mouth quirked on one side.
Then he grasped what she was doing. The bravado in the woman’s voice told him she was scared. She used sarcasm as a defense mechanism. The fear he sensed from her actions was like cold water. His lust cooled off instantly.
He strode over to an intercom on the wall. “Have someone bring the patient a gown.” Collin bit off with impatience, “Now!”
She cupped her breasts and lifted them up. “Don’t you want to play?”
Why hadn’t he noticed before, whenever she thought she was losing control of the situation, she turned on the sexual charm? Like an abused little girl trying to put off her attacker until she could find another way to protect herself. The process of converting her to the OS mind-set was going to be a long and difficult one. The Circle was known for recruiting damaged souls who already knew the worst one human could do to another and then exploiting it.
They picked a prime one with Olivia St. Vincent. Watching her desperate attempt to seduce him, he narrowed his eyes in concern.
He wanted her bad, wanted her on her back, legs spread and mouth open screaming his name. The little grin spreading across her face as she stared at his ever hardening groin warned him she knew it.
Was he about to contribute to her damage? Could he stop?
W
hat was up with him? Why was he staring at her as if he pitied her? She didn’t need his pity.
She turned away.
Within minutes they brought her a puke-green hospital gown. She looked down at the faded design. At least she was warmer.
He even ordered them to bring another meal, one with real food, not that mushy crap. What had they thought? That no one had ever thrown a twenty-pound sledgehammer fist into her chin before? Big Foot was an amateur compared to her foster mother’s brother.
One fact was for certain, he would pay for hitting her. Just as her foster mom’s brother did.
Who was Collin protecting by ignoring her questions? Her or Big Foot?
She rolled the over-bed tray to the side and folded her arms across her chest, hiding how her nipples pointed to the man she wanted badly between her legs.
She huffed.
Yeah, that was right. Strip her naked, handcuff her, dope her up, knock her out, and watch her libido go into overdrive for the man responsible. As she’d been told many times by those who knew her as well as she would let anyone, she was a sick individual. Obviously they were right.
“I’m all full.” She patted her nonexistent tummy.
The man stared at her as if she was a fly pinned to a board. Wanting a reaction of some sort, she gave him her best come-here smile.
“Want to fuck?” she asked sweetly.
He didn’t blink, not even a raised brow.
That was no fun. What did it take to get a rise out of this man? Her crudeness always brought a reaction from Jason. Though not as pretty as Jason, Collin was more masculine looking with the slight dimple in his chin and dark eyes filled with untold stories of going to hell and back. His dark brown hair cut in a stylish businessman length made her want to run her fingers through it, mussing it. Those masculine lips begged to be bitten.
“Tomorrow, you’ll move into your room.”
She really hated how hearing his soft spoken voice brought her concentration to a screeching halt, like she wasn’t already focused on his kissable lips. Around him she lost her edge. She needed to get away before she did something really stupid.
“How about letting me out of here? Whatever you want to discuss can be done in the comfort of my home.” She pulled at the hospital gown. “I could put on some decent clothes too.” Sounded reasonable to her.
“We already have your possessions.” He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg, settling in for an argument by the looks of it.
“My possessions?” she asked.
How did they know where she lived? What about her art? Her stash of weapons? Some of them were antiques. She treasured every one. Someone had gone through her things! Touched her stuff? Invaded what little privacy The Circle allowed? Enough was enough.
“You. Put. Them. Back.” She pointed a shaking finger at him and then quickly pulled it back and stuck her hand beneath the sheet.
Show no sign of weakness.
Her head pounded and her stomach bubbled as her mind shifted gears and tried to figure out how to escape. She concentrated on regaining control of her breathing
.
Otherwise, she might as well roll over dead. Or beg for crumbs of mercy.
Closing her eyes, she took long, slow breaths. Anything to regain control of her temper.
“Forget about your old life. They’ve received news you’re dead now.” He leaned over her, placing his hands on the pillow, his arms and body trapping her against the mattress. “Your life is with the OS and if you fight me on this, you’ll force me to end your contract before it truly begins.”
The way he said contract warned her he wasn’t referring to anything truly written. The gist of his nicely worded threat was her life would end.
Think.
She needed a little bit of time to figure her way out of this jam. No matter what was thrown at her, she was a survivor.
“Well, now. What good will I be to you if you keep me locked up?” She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Unless you can think of something I can do to prove how valuable I really can be.”
She fell back on the pillow and grinned. His eyes flared amber, the only sign he wasn’t unaffected by her play. That was more like it. A man interested in the promise of a willing woman.
“You do have a one-track mind.” He leaned in a little closer. The warmth from his body drew hers toward him. “You’ll find we’re looking after your best interests.”
Her nostrils flared as she caught the scent of his cologne. The aroma was as intoxicating as the man. She wanted him more than she ever imagined.
How irrelevant was that?
Here he was threatening her life and instead of protecting herself, she wanted to rub up against him like a cat in heat. Every time he came close to her—hell, in the same room, her thoughts went haywire. He was right. It did appear she had a one-track mind.
He added, “Your chances of survival are greater with us.”
“Ha! Let me pull on my waders.”
While he’d spoon-fed his propaganda, she reached up and slid her hand across his cheek, letting it fall to the top button of his shirt and caress the opening with a finger. A slight hesitation was the only sign he gave acknowledging her brazen touch. She liked how hot his skin felt.
Leaning forward, her lips almost touching his moving ones, she half-closed her eyes. Her tongue licked her lips and brushed his at the same time. The hand not drawing circles on his chest slipped into his pants’ front pocket, hoping to reach the cell phone she’d seen him drop in there earlier.
“Olivia.”
“Yes.” Fingertips touched the smooth metal surface.
“Get your hand out of my pocket,” he said in a firm tone.
Her tongue traced the seam of his lips as her fingers changed course and traveled toward what leaned heavy and thick against his left thigh. She grasped him through the thin fabric and purred. Oh, yeah. He felt good and hard.
Before she could give a good pump, he clasped her wrist and squeezed. Fire shot through her muscles until numbness took over. Refusing to release her hold and let him know how much it hurt, she absorbed the pain and used it as the emotion for her kiss.
His lips remained together for a few seconds, resisting her demanding tongue. Then he accepted what she offered and took control. He released her wrist and dug his fingers into her scalp, keeping her head still for his pleasure as his mouth covered hers. Each thrust of his tongue brought a mimicking thrust of her hand. When she became too involved in the kiss and forgot to move, he would remind her with a shift of his hips against her palm.