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A Summer Smile
  • Текст добавлен: 26 сентября 2016, 16:17

Текст книги "A Summer Smile "


Автор книги: Iris Johansen



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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

He was entering her carefully, trying not to hurt her with his sheer size. She could sense the care, the agonizing tension in him. His breath was coming in little rasps. He was trying to give her the gentleness he thought she wanted, she realized with a rush of tenderness. Even though the restraint was hurting him, he was trying to give to her. Well, she wanted to give to him also. Give and give until there was nothing left to offer. Hard and fast. He had said he liked it hard and fast.

Her hands suddenly closed on his hips, her nails digging into the hard flesh. "Daniel." Her voice was a soft yearning murmur in the darkness. "Come." Her hips surged upward, taking him with a boldness that brought a low cry from his lips. She felt like uttering the same cry, but she was afraid he would mistake it for pain. So full. Stretched, complete and yet still throbbing with emptiness. "Come ... to me." She could barely get the words out.

"Sweet heaven, Zilah." He shuddered. She could feel it within her, and it brought a quivering flutter to every nerve and limb. Together. How close they were. One flesh. "I'm going wild. I've never felt like this in my life. I'm afraid to let go. I'll hurt you, dammit."

"You won't hurt me." Her fingers tightened on his hips. "It's all right, Daniel."

"I hope so." She could feel the forces swirling about him in the darkness. Electricity gathering for the strike. "Because I can't stop myself now."

He plunged forward, wildness overcoming restraint as he took her with a force and beauty as hot and violent as the lightning to which she had mentally compared him. He was lifting her up to meet each strong thrust, grinding against her as if he wanted to reach beyond closeness to a unity that couldn't be broken as passion passed.

She was vaguely conscious that he was talking to her as he moved, telling her how sweet she was, how good she felt around him, of the other ways he was going to love her. His words were as hoarse and wild as the rhythm of his movements. Sometimes shockingly graphic, sometimes tender as a mother's kiss. She tried to help him, meet fire with fire, but once loosed, he overwhelmed her. It was like a tempest picking her up, tossing her from crest to crest, yet never letting her leave the center of power.

Lightning, power, strength that never conquered, beauty that never yielded. It couldn't go on. Yet it did. A moment. Forever. Darkness. Flame. Lightning again. A breathless shock that burned her to the core, then another, spreading, rippling in patterns of power. Daniel's power. So much power in one man, she thought feverishly. So much beauty and primitive need that– Then she could think no more as the lightning struck with a final blue-white force that absorbed the flame and the darkness and everything in the world except the man who wielded it.

She heard Daniel cry out and then felt the heavy weight of him upon her. His heart was beating so hard it appeared to be trying to burst from his chest. Or was that her own heartbeat? It was difficult to tell, so closely were they joined in body and spirit. He shifted off her and to the side, still holding her with possessive strength.

"Did I hurt you?" His question was gruff, but she could still detect the concern. "I didn't mean to be so rough. I think I went a little crazy."

Hurt? She didn't know if there'd been any pain or not. It had all been too world-shaking for her to separate the sensations she had been experiencing. She was conscious of a slight ache between her thighs now that Daniel had left her, but she wasn't certain whether it was soreness or an aching emptiness to be refilled. "You didn't hurt me."

"You're sure?" His palm reached between her thighs to rub her with loving gentleness. "You felt so good that I wanted to take every bit of you." His tone was rueful. "I think I tried to do just that. Next time

I'll try to act more the gentleman. You can see I'm not used to the role."

"I didn't mind." The words were so inadequate. She felt tongue-tied, and the tears were stinging behind her closed lids. How could she tell him what a precious gift he had given her? The final healing. It nad come so swiftly out of this darkness that had seemed suspended in time. Her own need to give comfort to Daniel had flowed effortlessly into the giv-ing of her body as well. Giving. That was the key. It was being taken that was the horror. Giving was beautiful. Giving was love. Her lips curved in a smile of radiant tenderness invisible to him in the dark-ness. And Daniel had given her that beauty. He had been rough and passionate as a storm at sea yet he had still given as well as taken. Why was he worrying so about a roughness that she had instigated herself? "You were upset."

He stiffened. His hand ceased its intimate petting motion and dropped away from her. "And you sorry for me," he said with soft violence. Dammit, you felt sorry for me!"

"No," she protested. "I mean, yes, I did feel sorry for you. I wanted to help you." He had rolled away from her, and she could hear him moving in the darkness, pulling on his clothes. "But that's not—"

"The hell it wasn't. You felt sorry for me." His voice was jerky. "My God, you even told me how grateful you were to me. So grateful you decided to give the guy a little tip for his trouble."

"A tip?" Zilah tried to smother the anger that flared at his choice of words. She sat up. "I don't give tips of that nature." Her voice was taut with pain.

"Contrary to what you may think, I am not a whore."

"Oh, hell, I've done it again." The light of the lantern snapped on to reveal Daniel kneeling in front of her. He was dressed, with the exception of his shirt.

His hair was a tousled mass of flame and his eyes were narrowed in concern on her face. "I've hurt your feelings, haven't I? I'm sorry. I guess my damn pride got in the way. I couldn't stand the thought of being a charity case. It brings back too many memories." "Memories?"

The light of the lantern struck sleek shadows over his naked shoulders as he shrugged. "I was an orphan from the time I was six. I guarantee that it doesn't give you a liking for being on the receiving end." His gaze wandered down her body to rest with compulsive intensity on the soft velvet folds that his hand had so recently caressed. His tongue ran over his lips to moisten their sudden dryness. "On the other hand, there's a distinct possibility I could change my mind given the right set of circumstances. You're lovely, Zilah."

She felt a familiar tingling begin where his gaze was caressing her. "You're not very steadfast."

"Oh, but I am." His gaze flew back to her face, and he answered with surprising gravity. "I'm as steadfast as the North Star. Once my course is set, I don't change. Remember that."

She was caught up in those swirls of dark intimacy once again and for a moment she couldn't break free. She pulled her eyes away from his with an effort and lowered them to the glittering silver sheet on which they were sitting. "Ill remember." She felt suddenly shy. Strange after all they'd experienced together to feel this sudden rush of shyness. She reached for the blue shirt Daniel had taken off her earlier and slipped it on hurriedly. "I wasn't treating you like a charity case, you know. I just wanted to help." She lifted her eyes to meet his. "I still do." She drew a deep breath and turned away, snatching up her clothes and pulling them on quickly. "And I intend to do just that, whether you think it's charity or not. As I said before, you can be a idiot Daniel."

He frowned. "Idiotic? What the hell do you mean? What are you doing?"

She glanced up from where she was kneeling, stuffing items hastily in the backpack. "Packing up. We're getting out of here. Grab the sheet and the lantern, will you?" She was crawling toward the opening, dragging the backpack behind her.

"Zilah, dammit, come back here!"

"Not a chance," she said over her shoulder. "If you're so determined to keep me safe, you'll have to do it under an open sky." She heard him growl something under his breath but she ignored it serenely. By the time she had negotiated the barricade that Daniel had erected at the mouth of the cave he was right behind her. His expression was grim in the halo of light from the lantern. "This is crazy, Zilah. Get back into the cave."

"And lie awake worrying about you all night?" She shook her head. "You know that if I weren't along, you'd be taking your chances out here."

He went still. "Worrying about me?"

"Yes, worrying," she echoed softly. "I think I maybe worrying quite a bit about you from now on, Daniel." She sat down and leaned her back against the stony wall of the cliff. "If you'll sit down and get settled, we'll be able to turn out the lantern. For someone who is so concerned about Hassan discovering us, you're being very reckless."

He dropped down beside her, still scowling.

"Zilah, you're being—"

She swiftly put her fingers over his lips. "Shall I tell you something David Bradford once told me when . I was going through a bad time? He said, 'I can't claim to understand your pain. We all experience sadness and pain in accordance with our own natures.

But if you'll let me, I'll share it. Open to me, give to me, and we'll handle it together. That's how it should be between friends." " Her eyes were glowing softly. "And we are friends, Daniel. Despite what happened in that cave tonight, I know I don't have any right to expect more from you. I don't want you to feel pressured or harried. I realize that I'm nothing special in your life, that you probably would have reacted to any woman in the same way. Sex hasn't as much emotional significance to a man as it does to a woman." She smiled a little shakily. "But we do have friendship. We couldn't have gone through what we did today without jumping a few hundred boundaries or so." She nestled her head on his shoulder with the endearing confidence of a small child. "So, like it or not, we're in this together, Daniel."

Daniel flipped off the lantern and was silent for a long moment. "I . . . do like it." His big hand gently began to stroke her hair. "Old friend."

"Good." She was vaguely conscious of his tucking the silver sheet over both of them. "Now, go to sleep and we'll worry about Hassan tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am." There was a thread of amusement beneath the meekness in his voice.

It didn't disturb the contentment she was experiencing. How lovely to be needed, she thought drowsily. For the past few years she had been the one in constant need. Everyone around her had treated her as if she were a piece of fine china that had been shattered, and though repaired, must always be given special care. But with Daniel she could give as well as take. How wonderful to know that no matter how dominant and aggressive he appeared, there would be moments when Daniel needed her.

Zilah drifted off to sleep almost immediately but Daniel didn't even make the attempt. With the rifle within reach he felt fairly secure, but there was no way he would expose Zilah to additional risk. He would sit here until dawn and guard her while she slept. A slight smile touched his lips and he brushed a kiss on her temple. He would be careful to guard her very well.

Nothing special. Those were the words she had used to describe an experience that had rocked him to his foundations. She had tried so hard to be understanding and sophisticated: he had been torn between tenderness and indignation as she'd told him so gravely she knew that the sexual experience they'd shared meant little to him. Perhaps it hadn't been more than physical gratification in the past, but that was before Zilah. Before he had looked into clear, grave eyes that asked and answered at the same time. Before he had seen a summer smile that he knew would now hold all the seasons of loving for him.

Hell, he couldn't expect her to feel the same way. He had known that she was actually backing away from him when she'd been murmuring all that bull about how she didn't want him to feel harried. Who could blame her when he had just taken her with less ceremony and finesse than he usually spent on the most casual of bedmates? He had lost control and he'd been damned lucky she hadn't rejected him entirely. She needed breathing room, and if he wanted her to come to him willingly and joyfully, then he had to give it to her. Damn, it was going to be hard

after having her tonight. He had been within a breath of making love to her again when she had bundled up their belongings and crawled out of the cave. What a crazy thing to do. Crazy and sweet and caring.

He leaned his head back against the stone wall of  the cliff and breathed in the sweet warm air that was scented pungently with wild grass and tamarisk. His arm tightened unconsciously about Zilah. He felt very lucky tonight. Luckier than ever before in his life. For the first time in years he was feeling an eager anticipation about what lay ahead, especially that moment when his friend was ready to acknowledge that he was also her lover.

Four

It was still dark when Zilah opened her eyes. Daniel's arms were no longer around her, and she the dark blur of his large bulk looming over her.

"Is it time to get up?" she asked, yawning. "It's still pitch dark."

"Not for long. By the time we pack up and wash the sleep away it will be light enough to travel." Daniel was swiftly pulling on his sleeveless undershirt. "It will take over two hours to reach Sheikh El Kabbar's compound and I want to get there before the sun is high. Once we leave the hills we'll be in desert country again." He tossed the penlight onto her lap. "Why don't you go down to the creek while I repack the backpack?"

She stretched lazily. "I'll do that." She got to her feet, flinching as she felt the stiffness of her cramped m.uscles. "It may take a while to get my legs working. I'd better start right away." She turned on the flash-light, catching Daniel in its pool of light. As usual, his sheer size was a shock. His red hair was tousled and the low-necked sleeveless undershirt revealed a wisp of the auburn hair on his chest. Despite the explosive vitality that exuded from him, his face showed fatigue, especially in the deep lines at the corners of his eyes. "Didn't you sleep at all?"

He shook his head. "You're a very nice armful," he said lightly. "I decided I was enjoying myself too much to waste time sleeping." He inclined his head in a mocking bow. "I hope you'll forgive me for not obeying your orders, oh, Zilah."

"Much you care." She tried to smother a smile as she turned and started down the hill toward the tamarisk grove. She glanced back over her shoulder. "You're definitely not a team player, Daniel."

"Clancy would never have sent a team player on a mission like this," he drawled, his eyes twinkling. "And if he hadn't sent me, think of all we would have missed."

She chuckled. "Bombs exploding, being shot at, pursuit by terrorists. I have to admit it hasn't been dull. Life may seem a bit tame when this is over."

"Then I'll have to think of something to liven things up a bit." He leered at her. "I have a few ideas in mind that might suffice. You forgot about the Roman candles."

She smiled softly. "No, I didn't. I have to admit your fireworks are pretty unforgettable, Daniel."

There was still a smile lingering on her lips when she reached the creek and knelt down on the flat rocks that bordered it. She seemed to have been smiling a great deal since Daniel had appeared in her life. How many years had it been since she'd known joie de vivre rising within her? She had thought that welling spring had been stilled forever by the experience that had changed everything for her. Contentment had seemed prize enough.

She used the handkerchief to wash her face and throat, thinking wistfully of thick terry-cloth towels and toothbrushes and hot showers. . . .

She screamed in agony.

The pain was so blinding, so overwhelming, that for an instant she didn't know where it was coming from. It was everywhere. It was wracking her entire body. She found herself sobbing helplessly.

"Zilah, for God's sake, what's happened?" Daniel was kneeling beside her. He grabbed the lantern and swung it in a wide arc around the grove, the M-l ready in his other hand.

"I don't know." The tears were running down her face. "Pain!"

"Where?"

She tried to pierce the haze that was enveloping her and identify its source. "My ankle, the right one, I think." She clutched at his shoulders, her nails biting into his flesh. "Oh, I don't know! It hurts. Daniel."

"I know. I know. Shhh. I know." He was shifting he lantern, playing the light down her leg to her feet.

"Oh, God!"

"What is it?" His voice was so shocked that she ought the dizziness to look over his shoulder. Ugliness. She had never seen anything so ugly as the creature crawling up her jean-clad calf.

Then Daniel was using the barrel of the M-l to brush the creature away. He ground it into the stones with the butt of the gun. He stood up, slung the rifle on his shoulder, and picked her up. He climbed

swiftly up the hill toward the cave.

"It was a scorpion, wasn't it?" she whispered, sing her eyes. "He stung me."

"It was a scorpion," he conceded grimly. "They don't usually like to be so close to water. It must have awled out from under one of those rocks."

"They're very poisonous, aren't they?" she asked, moistening her lips. "Am I going to die, Daniel?"

"No! God, no, sweetheart. Nothing's going to happen to you."

"Don't look now, but I think it's already happened." She felt light-headed, floating on waves of pain. "He was ugly."

"What?"

"The scorpion. He was so ugly."

"Shut up, Zilah," he said huskily. "You're going to be fine. Don't think about it." He set her down with her back to the wall of the cliff and knelt beside her. He rolled up the cuff of the jeans on her right leg and inhaled sharply. Her ankle was already swollen to almost twice its normal size. He quickly pulled off her tennis shoe and stripped off her white sock.

"Where is that handkerchief?" He didn't wait for an answer as he spied it still clenched in her hand and took it from her. "I'm going to have to make a tourniquet to keep the poison from spreading. Not very tight, just enough to slow the circulation a little. We'll keep a close watch on it and loosen it every so often." He was wrapping and tying the handkerchief directly above her ankle as he spoke. "The important thing is to keep the venom from spreading before we can get you to a doctor. The initial pain will ebb soon, but sometimes a fever follows. Don't be frightened if

it does."

"You seem to know quite a bit about scorpion stings," Zilah said faintly. "Is that required instruction for Clancy's agents?"

"I learned this particular knowledge on my own," Daniel said as he rolled down the cuff of her jeans. "One of the favorite amusements of those bastards who held me in that shack was to throw a scorpion or snake into the room with me and watch me scramble to cope with it. After 1 got out I made it my business to

know everything there was to know about poisonous vermin of all types. I never wanted to be that helpless again."

Poor Daniel. How horrible that experience must have been for him. And how many other experiences had he gone through that were equally hair-raising and potentially tragic? He had led a hard life and he was a hard man, yet there was kindness in him and humor and sensitivity. . . . She was finding it hard to concentrate through the haze of pain surrounding her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

He glanced up in surprise. "Why?"

He actually didn't know, she realized. When he went through a hellish experience he just tried to make himself better prepared for the next one. It was a way of life to him. "The pain and the sadness and . ."She shook her head helplessly. "I'm just sorry."

Daniel's throat tightened. She was the one who was hurting and still she was worrying about him. He touched her cheek with one gentle finger. "Are you?"

he asked softly. "Don't be. I survived it." His finger moved down to trace her upper lip. "Did I ever tell you I love to see you smile? It reminds me of warmth and summer and all the good things of life. I haven't seen you laugh yet, but I'm looking forward to it." He bent forward to brush her temple with his lips. "I survived and you're going to survive, too, Zilah. Count on it."

"What are you doing?" she asked as he slung the can teen and the M-l on one shoulder and reached down to gather her in his arms.

"It's generally called a fireman's carry," he said as he slung her facedown over his shoulder. "I want to move fast and this is the easiest way for me to carry you over the kind of terrain we'll be crossing. I'll have to leave the backpack behind. Once we're out of the foothills I'll try to switch your position so that you'll be more comfortable."

"But you can't carry me all that distance," she protested. "Let me try to walk."

He gave her derriere a little slap. "Hush! I can do anything I damn well want to do. It's my decision, and we've already agreed that I'm not a team player. If I let you walk, that poison is going to pour into your bloodstream. Now, be quiet and think good thoughts. That's as far as you're going to be allowed to participate in this little project."

"I think we're going to need all the good thoughts we can beg, borrow, or steal," Zilah murmured hazily. "And even that may not be enough."

"It will be enough." Daniel's voice was grim. "I'll make damn sure it's enough."

"I hope that you ..." Whatever she had been about to say drifted away as consciousness fled.

Turquoise eyes. They shone cool and glittering in the dark hard face of the stranger. Cool. Zilah's gaze clung to them with desperation. The world was on fire but here was coolness. His voice was cool as well and tinged with dry amusement. "Really, Daniel, I realize the woman is ill but did you have to react so violently? My overseer objected most volubly to being shot at."

"I wasn't shooting at him," Daniel said grimly. She was being carried down an interminably long hall of mosaic tile, passing white-fretted windows whose intermittent glare hurt her eyes. "He wouldn't have been able to object at all if I had been. I just shattered the exterior mirror on his jeep. The stupid bastard wasn't going to stop when I hailed him down."

"Well, you must admit you do look a bit of a wildman at the moment. Abdul isn't the most courageous man under the best of circumstances. He probably thought you were a bandit."

"Bandits aren't usually wandering around the countryside burdened with an unconscious woman." Daniel growled. "The man is a fool."

"Perhaps," the man with the turquoise eyes drawled. "But he's an excellent overseer. One can't have everything."

"Don't try to give me that bull, Philip," Daniel said. "You know damn wejl that you'll have everything your own way or blow up the whole world trying."

"I do find life far more convenient that way." Zilah saw again the flint of those turquoise eyes as he glanced down at her dispassionately. "Your Miss Dabala seems quite ill. Was she shot in the escape?" "Scorpion sting," Daniel said tersely. "She's been in intense pain and drifting in and out of consciousness for the last few hours. She's burning up with fever. As soon as I can get her to bed I want a doctor to see her."

"I've already sent for him. I told Raoul to phone for Dr. Madchen when he informed me that you'd roared into my courtyard with an unconscious woman in the jeep. He should be here shortly."

"She'll need antivenom."

"We keep some here in the first aid room. I'll have Raoul check to be sure it's still fresh. If not, I'll send a courier to pick up some at Dr. Madchen's dispensary."

"Good." She was being placed on a bed whose cool, silken sheets felt like a blessed balm to her hot flesh. Daniel's eyes were narrowed in concern on her face. "Hold on, Zilah, we've almost got it made."

Zilah tried to smile but it hurt too much. Everything hurt too much. She closed her eyes wearily to block out the light that was burning her eyes. She heard Daniel mutter something violent beneath his

breath. She paid no attention to it. She had gotten accustomed to that fierce murmur beneath her ear in the last few hours. Now it brought only a feeling of comfort and protection like the growl of a grizzly to her cub.

"You called her Miss Dabala and mentioned the escape," Daniel was saying somewhere above her head in the darkness. "Who told you about Zilah?"

"Your old friend Clancy Donahue became concerned when you failed to contact him last night as arranged. He flew in to be on the spot in case you needed him. He filled me in on the details of your little adventure. It sounded quite entertaining. Just the sort of thing that would amuse you."

"Oh, yes, very amusing," Daniel said caustically. "Next time I must remember to invite you along for the ride." She felt Daniel's hands unbuttoning the collar of her shirt. Strange that she recognized that touch even with her eyes closed. "Where the hell is that doctor?"

"Patience isn't one of your major virtues, Daniel. It's been less than ten minutes since I called him."

"And it's been over two hours since the scorpion stung her. She should have had an antidote at once." "The doctor's right behind me. I ran into him in the foyer." It was a new voice, deep, authoritative, and vaguely familiar. "He stopped to place a phone call to Karim Ben Raschid's palace to check on her medical history with Zilah's mother when I informed them her records would be there. How is she? I told you to get her out, not get her shot, Daniel."

"Dammit, Clancy, I did get her out," Daniel said harshly. "It was a scorpion, not a bullet. Nov/, get that doctor in here, or I'll do it myself with a hell of a lot less diplomacy."

Clancy. It must be Clancy Donahue. He had been very kind to her in the past and she wanted to open her eyes and greet him. Yet when she did she could

make out only three surreal figures standing before her. Dark, looming, and somehow menacing. Something stirred deep in her memory and started panic coursing wildly through her. Why had she thought she was safe? She was never safe. She would never be safe from them. "Daniel! Daniel!"

One of the shadows bent swiftly. "It's all right, Zilah. I'm here."

"No! Don't touch me. Please don't touch me." Suddenly an agonizing new pain struck her and she clutched at her stomach with a moan.

"What the devil?" The man had Daniel's voice but how did she know they weren't deceiving her again? It had happened before. "What's wrong with her?"

"I would say the venom is causing severe stomach cramps." Another voice, this one with a slight German accent. "It's not unusual." This shadow was shorter, with a silhouette that was almost rotund. Your servant informed me that it's a scorpion sting on her right ankle?"

"Don't just stand there looking at her as if she's some kind of bug under a microscope. Get rid of that blasted pain!"

He sounded so concerned. But then, they were always like that, so sleek and smooth, with their soft, mocking voices. She mustn't be fooled into thinking them friends. They didn't care about her pain. It was a weapon they used to make her do what they wanted.

The man with the German accent shrugged. "I was going to give her the antivenom serum first, but it doesn't matter." He was gone from her vision for a moment and when he returned he was much closer and there was something in his hand. The needle, shining and deadly and evil. The needle!

She screamed.

She scrambled to her knees. Dear heaven, she was so weak. They must have given her something before that she didn't remember. Sometimes she didn't remember. She could feel the headboard pressing into her back as she cowered like an animal. "No! I don't want it. Please!"

"Zilah, for God's sake. It's only morphine," the man who was pretending to be Daniel said. "It will take away the pain."

She shook her head wildly. "No shots! I won't let you. It's bad. It's all bad. You're going to let them hurt me again."

"Oh, my God," Clancy breathed. "My God!"

But it wasn't Clancy. She had to remember that. He was one of them.

"Is that all you've got to say?" Daniel's voice was shaking. "I can't take this. Why the hell is she so frightened of us?"

"She's remembering that other time," Clancy answered hoarsely. "And I'm not standing up so well under it myself."

"You will have to hold her," Dr. Madchen said briskly. "She's delirious and will fight the needle. I might hurt her."

"I'll hold her." Turquoise eyes. "Daniel, you hold her other arm."

They closed on her with lightning swiftness and she was helpless. She struggled wildly, panting with fear. "No, don't hurt me. I won't do it. Let me go." The tears were pouring down her cheeks. "Why are you doing this to me? I want to go home."

"Shh. It's all right." Daniel's voice was broken. "No one's going to hurt you. Will you give her the shot, dammit?"

The familiar hot pain in her arm. It was happening again. Despair welled up in her. She stopped struggling. Then the needle was gone and she felt the soft, swooping mist begin to enfold her. The tears

continued to rain down her cheeks and she made no attempt to halt them.

Daniel's expression clearly revealed his agonized concern for her. How had they managed to find someone who looked so much like Daniel? For it couldn't have been Daniel. He wouldn't have betrayed her like this. He was easing her stiff body into a reclining position on the bed and releasing her arms. He knew she wouldn't be able to fight him now. They always knew.

"Please. Stop crying. It's tearing me apart."

She shook her head slowly. She closed her eyes so that she could no longer see the face of betrayal. "I just want to go home," she whispered. "Please let me go home."

Her breathing became deep and even. "She's unconscious," Dr. Madchen said. "I'll give her the serum now." He raised a brow at Daniel. "With your permission."

Daniel nodded jerkily. "Give it to her. Is she going to be all right?"

"You've scarcely given me a chance to examine her," Dr. Madchen said caustically as he prepared the syringe. "How would I know?"


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