“Dressed like that?” Bree asked doubtfully, wandering around.
“Maybe he’s self-conscious. He’s awfully thin.”
“He is.” She turned in a full circle and then pinned me with her dreaded nurse stare.
“Rae, what the hell is going on? Why are we in a dungeon? And why did he say he’d
been decapitated?”
I signed. However unwittingly, Jordan had let that cat out of the bag himself and
there was no stuffing it back in. “If you know what a dungeon is, it should be self-explanatory.
And Jordan’s operation was actually a full-body transplant.”
Her stare didn’t waver. “That’s insane. You can’t cut off someone’s head and just
plop it onto a new body. Where in the hell would you find a donor?”
“Well clearly Julian can, and the procedure involved much more than just plopping.
It took a surgical team of more than seventy people almost thirty hours to complete.”
“You did the vascular surgery.”
“Yes, on his left side. Another surgeon did the right at the same time.”
“And the donor?”
“Confidential. But entirely legal, I promise.”
“I take it Jordan had Bain’s?”
I nodded. “That’s one reason it was so hard for Julian to let him go. It had already
killed his father, and his mother died trying to raise money for Bain’s research.”
“God, what a freaking mess,” she sighed. “He could have you all tied up in court for
decades.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I’ve been biting my nails for months waiting to be served
with a lawsuit.” I looked at my watch. “We should probably get down to Julian’s rooms
before Jordan comes looking for us.”
Ten minutes later, Jordan joined us in Julian’s sitting room, dressed in another black
turtleneck and jeans, and laid a thick sheaf of papers on the coffee table in front
of him. He still wore the gloves. Had something happened to his hands? God, had we
missed something, somehow failed to restore proper circulation to them?
“I’ll get right to the point, Dr. McBride,” he said with a direct look. “Bangenschloss
and just about everything else my dear brother owned now belongs to me.”
My stomach sank.
“When I woke after the surgery, still on a ventilator and unable to speak,” Jordan
continued, “Julian apologized for what he’d done. He said he wouldn’t ask for my forgiveness
because what he’d done was unforgivable, but if there were anything he could do to
make amends, anything at all, he would do it without hesitation. When I was finally
able to speak, I demanded his controlling interest in Kilmartin BioTech, along with
his interest in all its patents and all his real property. Otherwise I’d file criminal
and civil charges against him.”
Though my heart hurt for Julian, I nodded.
“Do you know what he did when I made my demands, Dr. McBride?”
Biting my lip, I asked, “What did he do?”
Jordan’s gaze intensified. “He sighed and said ‘Thank you’ in a heartfelt tone, as
if I’d just lifted the weight of the world off his shoulders. Then he set about quietly
transferring everything over to me.”
My eyes filled and I couldn’t speak.
“Of course his apparent penitence means nothing to me. If there were any way I could
take both—all his worldly goods
and
his freedom—I would. But making his unconscionable actions public would ruin the
company, and if I’m going to live another fifty years, I’d just as soon live them
with a vast fortune at my disposal.”
He shoved the papers at me.
“You needn’t worry about my pressing suit against you, Doctor. Julian assured me that
you and all the other surgeons were unaware of my lack of consent at the time of the
procedure so I can’t in good conscience hold you responsible for my current condition.”
“What’s wrong with your current condition?” Bree challenged. “You look better than
you have any right to under the circumstances.”
Jordan’s expression hardened. “I’ve heard enough out of you, Miss McBride. Be quiet
or leave.”
Without making a sound, Bree told him very clearly to fuck off.
Ignoring her gesture, he continued, “Among those documents, you’ll find a certified
copy of my signed release for the surgery.” Then he smiled ironically. “I should count
myself fortunate to have had you, shouldn’t I? In the hands of someone less skilled,
I might well be dead now.”
What could I say to that?
“So where are Julian and Colin now?” I asked hurriedly.
His lip curled, and not in a nice way. “They’re in the US, setting up Kilmartin NeuroMedical
Research Foundation. In Texas, to be more specific.”
My eyes widened. “Texas?” That was where the article had been mailed from. So who’d
sent it? I’d never had a clue before now.
“It’s warm in Texas,” he explained. “Cold pains me badly, though Julian assures me
that will eventually subside.”
“I see.”
“I need Julian, Dr. McBride, to keep the money rolling in, which is the only reason
I haven’t thrown his arrogant ass out on the street, but you can rest assured I’ll
be keeping a close eye on him. A very close eye.” He leaned forward, skewering me
with that very close eye. “I
own
Julian now, Doctor. He won’t be able to spend a penny without my approval, and he
won’t be able to take a piss in the night without my knowing about it.”
It was heart-wrenching to realize that, despite the success of the surgery, that carefree
young man in the photos was gone.
When I just kept staring at him, he smiled, and this time there was actual humor in
it. “Cat got your tongue, Dr. McBride?”
“I…don’t quite know what to say, Mr. Kilmartin,” I said slowly.
“Say you’ll come to work for me.”
I blinked hard, shaking my head. “Excuse me?”
“The foundation will require of a handful of vascular surgeons to continue with Julian’s
research, and you’d obviously be a worthwhile addition to our staff.”
“You want me…to move to Texas…to work for you…”
“By George, I think she’s got it.”
I shot him a narrow look. “The last time I accepted a job offer from a Kilmartin,
I wound up quitting after less than three weeks. Aren’t you worried I’ll do it again?”
“Not at all. You quit because your ethical standards had been compromised, something
I find quite admirable. You’ll have no such reason to quit this time. Julian will
be held to the highest possible standards.”
My heart tripped, and then began to soar. I stuffed it back into its cage before it
could soar too high. “Can I have some time to think about it?”
“Take all the time you need. But do it somewhere else,” he added brusquely. “I don’t
care to have my home invaded. There’s a bed and breakfast in Kander if you wish to
play tourist, or you can return to the States and messenger the documents to me once
you’ve signed them.”
“What makes you so sure I’ll sign them?”
He gave me a pointed smile. “You’re here, aren’t you? A good little slave can only
resist her master for so long.” When I bit my lip, he focused on it. “That’s not a
bad thing, Doctor. In fact, if I thought you’d come willingly, I’d take
you
away from Julian, too.”
“Lighten up, perv boy,” Bree said acidly.
Jordan’s expression hardened to stone. “Get her the fuck out of my castle before I
toss her out a window.”
* * * * *
Bree and I rented a terrifying little excuse for a car and spent three days exploring
the Montanevan countryside. We did quite a bit of talking as we trekked between all
the museums, churches, monasteries and scenic attractions, and by the end of the second
day, she’d helped me come to a few conclusions about myself that weren’t necessarily
flattering.
In fact, once I’d finally worked out all the reasons why I ran from Julian and Colin,
I almost gave up on ever seeing them again. How could I face them? Why would they
want anything to do with me?
But how could I
not
face them? How could I let Julian go on thinking he’d failed me when I’d failed him
just as badly?
It was Bree who’d encouraged me to spend the extra time in Montaneva and consider
what I really wanted before I made any decisions, and I was more than happy to go
along with that plan.
I thought she might have been entertaining some regrets about the way she’d treated
Jordan. When she kept referring to him as
perv boy
, I finally let on that he might have reason to take that particular insult too much
to heart and she’d gone uncharacteristically quiet. It made me wonder if she’d connected
the dots herself—Montaneva’s English-language newspaper, which we both read every
morning, was filled with stories about the country’s upcoming accession to the European
Union, and many of them touched on the abolition of the death penalty and the execution
of Augustine Pohlson.
If she did suspect, she didn’t say anything so I didn’t either.
By the time we took off from Montaneva’s only international airport, I was still up
in the air, so to speak, about Jordan’s offer. My inner bad girl begged me to just
accept and sort out the mess I’d made of things with Julian and Colin after the fact.
My good girl, however, insisted that wouldn’t be fair to any of us, and after so many
months back in her clutches, I couldn’t help but side with her.
When we landed at Heathrow, I made a last-minute decision to change my connection
and booked a direct flight to Dallas-Ft. Worth.
All Bree had to say was, “Good idea.”
We sat in a little Italian coffee shop brooding into our cappuccinos for almost an
hour, which turned out to be a bad idea. Between my nerves and all the caffeine, I
wound up spending much of the flight in the cramped lavatory, suffering numerous bouts
of intestinal distress. Thank God it was a relatively smooth flight or I’d have been
throwing up, too.
The plane didn’t land until almost midnight, and once I’d collected my bag, I took
a taxi to a hotel not far from the foundation’s offices, the address and main phone
number for which were included on several of the documents Jordan had given me. I
crashed immediately and woke sixteen hours later, sleep-swollen and groggy but hungry.
After giving myself one more night to recover from the jetlag, I showered and dressed,
had a light breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and took a taxi to the foundation offices.
Dallas in May was as hot as Montaneva had been cold in October. As I walked into the
humongous building, which according to the literature from Jordan was a hospital undergoing
extensive renovations, I blotted the sweat from my brow and upper lip with a tissue.
Why on earth couldn’t Jordan have picked someplace more temperate, like Seattle?
At the main desk, I asked to see Julian and the receptionist made a quick call before
directing me to a suite on the second floor.
I vibrated with nerves as I made my way there. I had absolutely no idea what kind
of reception to expect, but I was prepared for the worst.
When I was ten feet from the suite, the door opened and Colin emerged. We both stopped
and stared. He looked more edible than ever in charcoal slacks and a lavender dress
shirt open at the collar, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I wanted badly
to throw myself at him, to clutch him tight and just soak up the smell and feel of
him, but his frown glued my feet to the floor.
“Rachel,” he said coolly. “What are you doing here?”
“I…” My brain froze and all I could think to say was, “Jordan offered me a job.”
“Oh Christ, you didn’t accept, did you?” He rolled his eyes. “Of course you did. That’s
why you’re here. That’s just fucking lovely. It wasn’t enough for the ungrateful little
prick to take everything Julian had—he has to torture him with
you
.”
As he spoke, pain unlike anything I’d ever felt before razed my insides and left me
trembling. I felt sick. I wanted to run away, to hide from the disgust in his eyes.
But there was no place I could hide from myself.
“I didn’t accept,” I whispered.
His brows went up in challenge. “No? Then why are you here?”
I swallowed, finally remembering my mission. “I need to speak to Julian.”
“Whatever it is you want, you can forget it,” he snapped. “I need to go. We’re pretty
busy.”
I ground my teeth. “Dammit, Colin, I want to talk to Julian. Now.”
“Why, so you can come crawling back to him?”
The venom in his tone nearly brought me to tears again. “Colin—”
“Because that’s what you’ll have to do, Rachel,” he informed me, his eyes flashing.
“If you really want to see Julian again, you can get on your hands and knees and fucking
crawl
to him, because that’s the only way I’m letting you in here.”
Anguish swamped me again, along with a healthy dose of humiliation. And fear.
And, God help me, arousal. Colin was
furious
with me. When we were at UW, I’d always thought he probably had a dark side to balance
all that brash charm, but I’d never seen his fury before, much less been on the receiving
end. In Montaneva, Julian’s influence appeared to have smoothed the volatility out
of him. But it was clearly still a part of him and it took my breath away. Knowing
that I deserved his wrath only increased my trembling excitement.
A little voice inside me whispered,
Finally. Finally, a chance to see what you’re made of. How much you can take. How
far you can fall. And what it truly means to be broken.
Because that’s what I’d be if they sent me away. Part of me almost hoped it would
happen so I could finally quit dreading it.
Knowing I had no other choice, I said, “Fine.”
“Fine.” He pulled open the door and held it for me.
Glancing around nervously, I took a shuddering breath and sank to my knees, thanking
God I’d worn slacks as I leaned forward on my hands. My shoulder bag immediately dropped
to the floor. When Colin just continued to stand there with his brows raised in expectation,
I pulled the strap over my head and carried my purse around my neck.