Authors: Cate Noble
Southern California
September 22
Mission incomplete.
Max was dreaming. He and Taz had been on a mission. In the jungle. But who had they been fighting? And why? A man lay dead at his feet, his neck broken. Smoke swirled in his mind, blanking out what happened next.
But not the memory of what he’d done. And who had made him do it: Dr. Rufin.
The memories from being inside Rufin’s head were jumbled. But Max had the gist of things.
Or did he? In some way he felt like he was just a pawn in some sick game. Is that what it had been?
Wrong question.
Without warning, red-hot pokers lashed across Max’s eyes, plunging him into total darkness. He wanted to scream, but the searing agony rendered him mute as well as blind. He felt claustrophobic as if he were being buried alive. Smothered. He needed air. He needed—
Erin!
She was here. Simply recalling her presence helped to ground him. Breaking free of the dream, he found her still on top of him. Still asleep.
His arms encircled her. Holding her was like grasping a magic elixir that defused his pain. Where he burned, she was a soothing balm. And the tighter he held her, the greater the relief.
Mine.
The voice inside his head was back, but this time he had a name: Hades. It was what Dr. Rufin called him. There were more memories, lurking close to the surface, but it hurt to think.
She’s mine
, Max thought back, seeking to end the silent challenge.
He sensed light seeping in from behind his eyelids. The episode was passing. That he’d come through it with a few memories intact felt like a huge victory.
He blinked, taking in his surroundings. Soft light frosted the camper window. He guessed by the relative silence that it was still very early in the morning.
That he knew exactly where he was struck him as profound. He had fled the hospital, drugged Erin, and then stolen a truck. That was reality. It had a genuine sense of continuity. A sense of continuity that the scene with the dead man lacked.
Aware that he held Erin in what had to be a crushing embrace, he loosened his grip, but didn’t release her, still drawing benefit from holding her.
He debated whether to try and rouse her, or to just let her awaken on her own. The drugs should be wearing off soon and he wanted to get back on the road. To find Taz.
That was one of the things he’d remembered. He and Taz had an elaborate plan of where to meet and what to do if they became separated. At least it felt like an elaborate plan. The problem was he recalled few specifics. Like
where
, for instance.
They’d been overseas—Thailand—yes! But he felt certain the rendezvous spot wasn’t there. It was here, in the States, at a place he and Taz had both been to.
He noticed he was panting again, to ward off the headache. Time to stop thinking.
He focused instead on the woman sprawled across his chest. She wasn’t very tall, maybe five-six, which in Max’s book made her tiny. But what she lacked in height, she made up for in curves. The formless jacket she wore hid much.
The fact that she hadn’t moved bothered him. He pressed two fingers against her neck and found her pulse weak, but steady. He also found her skin pleasingly soft.
He studied the way her hair fell across her cheek. This close he could see that it was a deep, rich color. Mahogany highlighted with lighter cinnamon red. Unable to resist, he pushed it back. His fingers speared through her hair. It was as silky as it looked.
In for an inch…
The urge to kiss her came out of nowhere. So did his erection.
In for a mile…
“Erin, wake up.”
When she didn’t respond, he grasped her shoulders, shook her gently.
“Mmmmmm.” She snuggled against him, drawing one leg up between his. The pose was intimate and vulnerable. A picture of her naked came to mind.
He shook her again. “Erin. Give me your hands.” That her wrists were bound hadn’t even registered.
“Just…one…more minute,” she murmured.
“Snooze button’s broke, sweetheart. Get up.”
Instead, she shifted closer and raised her head. A soft sigh escaped her lips as, eyes closed, her mouth brushed his. She was still half asleep, still half under the influence of the sedative.
And with that tentative half kiss, she had Max’s full attention. Was she dreaming of someone special, he wondered.
Did it matter?
No. All that mattered was that the kiss not end. He lifted his head, making it easier for her to continue her gentle exploration. Erin’s mouth hovered close to his, her lips touching so lightly he couldn’t be sure if contact was still being made. She stole his breath, leaving him desperate, confused. Aching. For more.
He didn’t move as her hands awkwardly cupped his chin, urging him closer, forcing him to participate. Her tongue, tiny and moist, darted forward, tasting him. Tempting him.
She deepened the kiss, drawing his tongue into her mouth. His body responded, his testicles tightening with need. She was pressed fully against him, her breasts crushed against his chest. He wanted them in his hands. His mouth. He wanted to grasp her hips and grind fully against her, fit his crotch into the cradle of her hips.
Except she held him enthralled, held him perfectly immobile with just a kiss. Did doing “whatever it took” to remain free include coercing her sexually? Hell. No. His hands fisted into the blankets.
He couldn’t take much more.
Her eyes opened just then and she broke off the kiss with a small cry.
“Let me go!” Erin struggled atop him.
“I’m not touching you.”
“Oh!” She tried to push up. The move shifted her lower body, making them both aware of his erection.
Max groaned as she wiggled against him, desperate to get away. He grabbed her hips, to still her, but that made matters worse.
“Max! Please!” The frightened tone in her voice and the panic in her eyes jolted him.
He sat up, letting her tumble to one side as he edged away in the opposite direction. But in the close confines, they still touched.
“You were dreaming.” The excuse sounded lame, so he switched to reassuring. “Nobody’s going to hurt you, Erin. Especially me.”
She tried to raise up and immediately pitched backward.
Max reached to steady her, but there was no calming the fury that swept across her features as she realized that her hands were bound.
“Untie me. Right now.” She thrust her wrists up.
“This isn’t what you think.” He tugged the rope free and tossed it away. “I needed to sleep and I didn’t want you to run off, sound an alarm.”
More of the events from the night before came back to her. “You drugged me, didn’t you?”
“I did. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t have used that syringe on me, so in my book that makes us even. And I will let you go as soon as I get a few answers.”
“Well, I want a few answers myself,” she snapped, melodramatically rubbing the chafed skin of her wrists while looking around. “Where are we? Where’s my car?”
“We’re at a campground about fifty miles outside of San Diego. You car is at the airport, but I brought your bag with us.” His eyes roved about the camper. “I borrowed this.”
“You stole it? Max, please, let me contact Dr. Winchette. By now, there will be people searching for us. I’ll explain that it’s my fault. If you let me handle this, we can probably get the charges dropped.”
“You’re hardly to blame.”
“I never should have left the hospital with you.”
“I would have forced you to come.”
I did force you to come.
“Look, you can call Winchette shortly. In fact, I want to know if Taz has been located.”
His response appeased her, even as she assumed it meant Max would return to the hospital. Which he had no intention of.
“Where’s my phone? My purse?” she asked.
“Up front. We’ll get them after we use the bathroom.”
“You’ll let me go alone?”
He sighed. “You’re not my prisoner, Erin. I understand how bizarre this must seem, but you have no clue what I’ve been through. Hell, I’m not even sure what I’ve been through. I had hoped you could help fill in a few blanks.”
“How much do you remember, about being rescued?”
“Not much. Bits and pieces that don’t make sense. Other things feel like they’re within my grasp. As if with a little more time, it’ll all come back.” He rubbed his temples as the headache restarted. A warning not to question his thoughts. “Mostly it hurts to think. Is that part of the amnesia you told me about?”
“The pain? No. Describe it. Where exactly does it hurt?” She reached for him. He drew back.
It took Max a moment to realize she was only seeking his wrist. To check his pulse. Damn. What had he thought she was going to do?
“I’m fine now” became a true statement the moment her fingertips pressed against his skin. That was twice just since waking that his pain had abated beneath her touch. Coincidence?
“Proper treatment is crucial to a full recovery, Max. We need to return to the hospital.”
“Can we shelve this discussion and go find the bathroom?” He scooted toward the edge. “I’ve gotta piss, but I promise we’ll talk after I’ve had a shower.”
Erin resisted the urge to argue. For one thing, she really did need to use the bathroom, too.
She also needed a minute to shake the last of the cobwebs from her head. Besides leaving her tongue thick and her mouth dry, that particular combination of drugs made her brain feel lethargic. Confused. Is that what Max had felt upon awakening in the hospital?
She was furious that he’d drugged her, tied her up—and involved her in an auto theft. But oddly she didn’t feel endangered by him. In fact, she felt the opposite. Protected. Safe.
That he seemed more lucid than last night was a good sign. His headache concerned her, though. It could be nothing…or something. But diagnosing it in the back of a truck wasn’t an option. He needed to be back in a clinical setting, where tests could be run.
She watched him back off the makeshift bed and kneel on the floor, one hand extended to assist her.
The pose struck her as chivalrous, until she realized he was too tall to stand inside the camper. Heck, his shoulders were too broad for the tiny walking space between the camper’s galley and cabinets.
Ignoring his hand, she scooted to the edge of the mattress, but Max didn’t move. Instead he pinned her with a gaze that was way too intense, way too desirous. A gaze that had her thinking of him as a handsome man versus a patient.
She looked away, wrestling with her errant thoughts. “I, um, really need to use the bathroom.”
“Can I trust you, Erin?”
“If you’re worried I’ll scream for help or run, I won’t. I’ve heard voices outside, so I know there are people around. And I did come with you willingly, Max. At first at least.” She met his gaze. “I should be asking if I can trust you not to leave while I’m in the bathroom.”
“Touché.” Turning, Max practically crawled out the camper door.
She followed. Once again he held out his hand and this time she let him help her out of the camper. But the moment her feet hit the ground, her knees wobbled.
Max caught her. “Easy.”
Dizziness assailed her. Mortified at the thought of being sick, she turned away. But he blocked her, forced her to stay put.
Gritting her teeth, she tried to reestablish her equilibrium. Her cheeks flushed as she realized she’d drifted closer to him. Her hands were braced against his chest, her hips brushing against his thighs in an almost erotic stance. He murmured under his breath, the words inaudible, yet oddly calming.
“Let me see your eyes.” He reached out and tilted her head back, his gaze probing. His fingers stroked along the underside of her jaw.
She straightened. What was she doing standing here, letting this man, her thoughts—God, what was wrong with her? She looked around, glad to find their campsite sheltered by trees. No one could see them. “I’m fine. Sorry.”
Almost as if he could read her mind, a half smile formed, then disappeared. “It’s a bitch, throwing off the effect of those drugs. Sit. I’ll get our bags.”
Max had thoughtfully brought along her carry-on bag, which boosted her spirits a little. She followed him along a small path through the trees to a concrete block bath house.
The sun had yet to burn away the ground fog. It swirled at their feet like spun sugar. The voices she’d heard earlier had faded, leaving the campgrounds quiet.
“Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves.” Max handed her a towel. “Found them in the camper. They look clean.”
She grabbed for the handle of her bag, but Max caught her hand and pressed something into her palm.
“The car key,” he said before turning away. “So I can’t drive off.”
“Thanks.”
The ladies’ room was deserted. She checked her pockets then remembered Max had never given her back her cell phone. After using the toilet, she washed her hands and face, then brushed her teeth.
The showers had individual dressing rooms with a bench seat. She opened her bag and tugged out clean clothes, opting for khaki pants and a lightweight green sweater. The shower revived her.
She dried her hair as best she could using the wall-mounted hand blower, and then applied makeup. She resisted the thought that she was going through all these pains to look good for Max.
“I’m doing it for me,” she whispered. Well, mostly.
Disgusted with herself, she repacked her bag and switched her thoughts to wondering how she was going to explain this fiasco to Dr. Winchette and Travis Franks.
Yes, Max had drugged her and taken her along but that didn’t excuse the part she’d played in his leaving the hospital in the first place. And while she knew Winchette would be furious that she’d questioned Max’s medication, she needed to be prepared to turn those questions right back on him.
Why had Winchette purposely kept Max so heavily sedated? Was it because, fully awake, Max could finally answer questions?
“
Some things are better left unquestioned,”
Winchette had said time and time again.