Dr. Do-Or-Die. Lara Lacombe
Any “assistance” was likely a spy in disguise, sent to make sure he complied with his orders. It was just another subtle tightening of the noose wrapped round his neck.
“Report back in a week. We look forward to hearing your progress.”
There was a click followed by the loud drone of a dial tone. Paul tucked his phone back into his pocket and rubbed his hands together, chafing some warmth back into his frozen fingers. It was cold in the storage room. Hell, it was cold everywhere.
Seven days. That didn’t give him much time. Frustration gnawed its way up his chest, filling him with the urge to hit something. Every time he did what the Organization asked, they told him it wasn’t enough. They kept moving the goalposts on him, making it impossible for him to meet their expectations. It was enough to drive him insane. If this was a normal situation, he’d simply walk away. But nothing about this was normal, and Paul knew if he burned this bridge, he wouldn’t be the one to pay the price. The kids had already been through so much. He couldn’t risk them—not now, not ever.
He closed his eyes, seeing the faces of the ten men he’d infected. Nice people, all of them. Friendly and decent, the kind who probably had families of their own back home. Paul’s heart tightened at the thought and a swell of regret surged, threatening to drown him. What had he done?
Needing a distraction, he grabbed his phone and pulled up the most recent picture of his family. There they were, all smiling into the camera, squinting a bit thanks to the sun. Noah was getting so tall, and the dark shadow of a sprouting mustache on his upper lip drove home the fact that his son was no longer a little boy. His younger daughter, Lisa, still had a bit of baby fat clinging to her slight frame, but he could see the promise of the woman she would become in the slope of her brow and the angle of her jaw. They were growing up so fast. And while he hated knowing he had killed four men, he consoled himself with the knowledge that they were adults who had lived their lives. It was a hard thing he had done, but he couldn’t let his sympathy for relative strangers outweigh the promise of his children’s future.
One week, he thought grimly. Time to go back to work.
* * *
Avery glanced at her travel alarm clock for what felt like the millionth time that night. While she normally didn’t have trouble falling asleep in a new place, she was too keyed up to relax right now. She was itching to dive into the investigation and figure out what exactly was going on at this frozen research base. If this really did turn out to be a new strain of influenza, then her work would go down in medical history, right up there with the men and women who had studied the Ebola virus or HIV. It was an exciting thought, and she allowed herself a moment to imagine how this case could push her into the upper echelons of her field.
Part of her recognized how strange it was to be so excited about a disease, and such a nasty one at that. She truly didn’t want anyone to suffer, and she felt bad for the families of the four people who had already died. But she knew the best way to honor the patients who had lost their lives was to dive in and figure out how to keep others from sharing their fate.
And if the work went well and she happened to wrap things up quickly? That would be the icing on the cake.
Seeing Grant again had been unnerving, to say the least. She felt like a snow globe that had been violently shaken, her previously settled emotions all stirred up and swirling around like so many white flakes. It was frustrating to revisit a period in her life she’d thought was over. She’d worked hard to process her grief at losing the baby and the pain of their breakup. Slowly, but surely, she’d put the pieces of her heart back together and had moved on, always looking forward, never daring to look back for fear she would get sucked into the black hole of despair again. Escaping it once had been hard enough—she didn’t think she would get so lucky a second time.
Now, thanks to the emotional upheaval Grant had triggered, she was forced to question if she’d really dealt with her past at all, or simply ignored it long enough that the pain was no longer so fresh. After all, if she’d truly gotten over the losses, seeing Grant shouldn’t have such a powerful effect on her.
She flipped onto her back with a sigh and burrowed under the down comforter, grateful for the warmth in the chilly room. It was the shock factor, she decided. That was why he’d gotten under her skin again. If she’d known he was here, she could have mentally and emotionally prepared herself to see him. Instead she’d been blindsided by his sudden appearance and hadn’t had time to throw up any mental buffers. Now she knew what to expect.
She closed her eyes, determined to get at least some sleep tonight. But her brain wouldn’t cooperate. Question after question popped into her mind, preventing her from relaxing. And to her great dismay, most of her curiosity was focused on Grant. Had seeing her again affected him the same way? Did he ever think about her and the baby she’d lost? Or had he jumped into another relationship and put her out of his mind and heart completely?
The thought stung and she blinked hard against the prickle of incipient tears. “Stop it,” she muttered, taking a deep breath and harnessing her emotions. Grant’s private life wasn’t any of her business, and she needed to remember that. Still, she hadn’t seen a ring on his finger... Did that mean he was single?
Doesn’t matter, she told herself firmly. She was here to do a job, not reconnect with her old flame. They’d had their chance once. No need to make the same mistake again.
If only she could get her body to understand that.
While her mind was busy dealing with unwanted and unwelcome memories, the rest of her had suffered no such troubles. No matter what had happened in the ten years they’d been apart, Grant still looked very much the same. He was a little leaner, a little harder maybe, but those broad shoulders, hazel eyes and long nose hadn’t changed. As soon as she’d seen him her body perked up, all the nerve endings coming to life and making her feel like a live wire.
Being so close to him in his office hadn’t helped, either. The small room had smelled like him, that familiar combination of soap and a hint of spice that she knew from experience was the scent of his skin. Once upon a time, the smell of him had been enough to make her weak in the knees. She was less affected by it now, but it still made her stomach do a little flip.
Just ignore it. She couldn’t allow herself to see Grant as a man, or else she would make the mistake of wanting him again. And that was a distraction she simply couldn’t afford.
Of course, it was easy to tell herself she was going to keep things professional. Quite another to actually follow through. Especially since she had firsthand knowledge of what it was like to be with him... She felt a phantom caress on her thigh and recognized it as the ghost of his touch from long ago. They had been very good together, a fact that her body was all too keen to point out. The few men she had gone on to date after Grant had been nice enough, but they hadn’t been him. And even though he’d broken her heart, he was still the standard to which she compared them all. It wasn’t fair or logical, but feelings generally weren’t, particularly where he was concerned.
What she wouldn’t give to talk to Olivia or Mallory right now! Her two best friends knew her history with Grant and would know just what to say to help her deal with this unexpected complication. She reached for her phone, trying to calculate the time difference between Antarctica and Washington, DC, where Olivia Sandoval lived. Would her call wake Olivia up?
“Probably,” she muttered, setting the phone back down. Besides, at this time of night, Olivia was likely snuggled up with her fiancé, Logan. They’d been neighbors for a few years, but things had really developed between them during Olivia’s most recent medical charity trip to Colombia. In a bizarre turn of events, a drug cartel had tried to blackmail Olivia into smuggling cocaine back into the United States. Desperate, Olivia had turned to Logan for help. He and his colleagues at the DEA had hatched a plan to outmaneuver the cartel, and fortunately, their gamble had paid off.
Avery still couldn’t get over Olivia’s stories, and she was so glad Logan had been there to keep her safe. Even though she hadn’t met the man yet, she had spoken to him over the phone. He seemed like a genuinely good guy, and she’d never heard Olivia