The elevator began to move, and I let out a breath of air I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

What the hell had just happened?

That man-Mr. Thorne-clearly he's some kind of perv. He's dosed me, roofied me or something.

How? I asked myself. With the power of his hands? Oh, God, that was what it had felt like. I lifted my hands to my cheeks. Even now they were flushed. And he had felt it, too. I knew what desire looked like, and that impossibly handsome man had desired…me.

It wasn't that I thought I was unattractive. But I'd come there as a patient seeking medical advice. What was his game? What did he want, other than patients for his trial? And why?

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I stepped from the elevator back into the lobby. The receptionist looked up and greeted me with another bright smile, a jarring counterpoint to the man who lurked in darkness in the office above. "The car is waiting for you, Ms. Shaw. You will be taken back to your vehicle."

I nodded to her and went outside. The Bentley hummed at the curb, and the chauffeur opened the door at my approach. Dumbly, I sat inside, and the car rolled away.

My body ached, but it ached with a far different kind of pain than that which had become my constant companion in the last few months. It was a part of me that I had thought had died, stolen by the sickness months ago. Now all my nerves were awake and singing, and I had nothing to tell them because they only wanted one thing.

Him.

I hardly noticed when the chauffeur pulled up behind my battered Ford Focus in the parking garage. I didn't even think to ask him how he knew where I was parked or what my car looked like. I was far beyond wondering about those kinds of things.

I ducked out of the car, fumbling for my keys as I stepped unsteadily onto the concrete. By the time I had opened the driver's side door of my Focus, the Bentley had purred out of sight. I collapsed into the chill of the driver's seat. I wondered if I had just imagined everything. Already, it seemed as insubstantial as the clouds that materialized with my every breath, evaporating before I drew the next. I pushed up my sleeve and stared at the tiny needle prick there. I shivered as a shadow of sensation went through me again.

I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the edge of the steering wheel. My phone dug into my stomach, which reminded me-Lisette.




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