The clock ticked loudly on the wall as time passed. He sat watching the candlelight flicker over her face, the dancing shadows play over her body, and he bent down to brush a kiss across her eyes. She didn’t move.

Gator dressed quickly. The syringe was in his drawer and this time he didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t take a chance that she might wake up. He gave her a shot in her thigh, injecting the full dose into her.

It’s done.

We’ll bring in the copter. We have a plane standing by to fly us out of here and Rye has the compound ready.

It was difficult to put a robe on her, but he managed. He didn’t want her na**d when they came for her. He snatched up her duffel bag and shoved her new clothes inside. His own bag was already packed and ready to go.

He sat listening to the sounds of the helicopter as it flew overhead and swung toward the clearing just south of his cabin. It wasn’t long before he heard the men as they approached the house, bringing the stretcher with them. One by one he blew out the candles until the room was dark.

CHAPTER 19

She fought the urge to yank the foreign object out of her body.

Someone sat nearby in a chair. There was movement to her left, She feigned sleep, struggling to keep her heart under control when it insisted on accelerating, when adrenaline flooded her body, triggering every alarm in her system. Betrayal was a bitter taste in her mouth. She ached with it. Screamed silently with it. Tears burned but she refused to give them license.

Raoul Fontenot had delivered her back into Whitney’s hands.

Flame awoke to the scent of lavender. She was lying in a bed, but it wasn’t the same bed she’d gone to sleep in with Raoul’s body wrapped closely around hers. Her heart slammed hard as she realized that there was a port directly into the vein under her collarbone. The last time she’d had something like that stuck in her body had been when Whitney gave her the cocktail of medicine needed to get rid of the cancer he had manufactured.

Oh God. Please God. Don’t let this be happening to me. Anything but this. Anything at all. I can’t do this. She sent the silent prayer over and over while she slid her hand up to feel the port, hoping she was having a nightmare. She felt the edges of the dressing and knew the port was stitched in place and the catheter was under her skin.

The person to her left moved to the edge of the bed and bent over her. She smelled him. Knew his touch. She reached for rage, needed it to survive, but there was only pain. She gasped aloud, shocked at the intensity of her anguish. She’d never felt so raw, so ripped open and vulnerable.

“I know you’re awake. I can hear your heart, your breathing. Open your eyes, Flame. It isn’t what you think.” Raoul’s voice was low, almost pleading.

“No?” She lifted her lashes, couldn’t stop the tears from swimming where he could see them, but she didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him. “You didn’t seduce me? You didn’t drug me and take me to the one place you knew I swore I’d never go back to? You warned me. I can’t say that you didn’t. You said you were supposed to bring me back, but I let you seduce me into forgetting.”

“Flame, you know better. Look at me. You know it wasn’t like that.”

She was going to be sick. Her stomach churned and she could hear the silent screams in her head growing louder. There was so much pain. She hadn’t expected it to be so bad, the utter humiliation of knowing he had slept with her to do his job.

Surprisingly she wasn’t restrained. She struggled into a sitting position, batting away his hands when he tried to help her. “Don’t touch me. I never want you to touch me again.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Where’s the bathroom? I’m going to be sick.” It was already too late. He shoved a small tray into her hands and she was further humiliated by throwing up over and over again in front of him.

He left her side for a brief moment to return with a cool washcloth and towel. She took it without looking at him. She knew if she looked, if she saw his face and his lying eyes, the terrible storm inside of her would crash over her and she would break apart, shatter so completely that she wouldn’t be Flame anymore.

Raoul took the small tray from her, dumped it and rinsed it out, returning it to the bed within reach of her hand. The sight of the tray triggered childhood memories. Ugly. Torturous. She felt dizzy and for a moment couldn’t catch her breath.

Control. Discipline. Patience. She repeated the mantra silently. She knew what she had to do. She was prepared; she’d been prepared ever since the first moment of her escape. Death wasn’t nearly as bad as living as a lab rat.

She let her breath out slowly. “I guess you didn’t believe me when I told you I’d destroy everything before I’d be put in a cage again. I’m willing to die here, Raoul, are you? Because you have about two minutes to get the hell out and take everyone else with you.”

“Why warn me, Flame? Why not just do it?”

“Get out, Raoul.” She was tired. Desperately tired and drained. The screams in her head had subsided, but now, somewhere deep inside she was silently weeping. Great terrible sobs that she couldn’t control were shredding her heart. Her body shook with sobs, her chest ached and her throat was nearly closed with the tears clogging it, but no sound escaped. She refused to give that to him.

“I’m not leaving your side.”

“Look, you did your job. You can go tell all your buddies how great you are. You royally f**ked me.”

“Maudit! That’s not the way it was.”

“That’s exactly the way it was. You knew you couldn’t force me back so you pretended to fall in love with me.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I fell for every word you said. Be proud of yourself. Maybe Whitney will give you a nice bonus. Just get the hell out of here. I can’t stand the sight of you.” She pressed the wet cloth over her face, hoping it would cool her burning eyes.

“You would never have come in on your own, Flame. Never.”

“Where am I? The room is soundproofed, but it’s no hospital.”

“I couldn’t risk taking you to Lily’s home. All of us stay there on and off and Lily’s pregnant. If you decided to retaliate, I had to find a way to contain the damage. You can kill me, Flame, but I’m not going to let you take out the others. They only did what I asked them to do because they wanted to help you.”

She looked at her broken arm, at the new cast, unmarred by the rain and water of the bayou. “I suppose you’re going to tell me Lily did this.”

“She had to check to make certain there was no infection from the alligator bite. You’re on strong antibiotics and painkillers, but with the cast getting wet-”

“Where’s Peter Whitney?” she demanded, cutting him off.

“I have no idea. I’ve brought you to a facility where Lily can treat the cancer and we can guard you from Peter Whitney, if, in fact, he’s still alive and is trying to take you back. Peter Whitney has nothing to do with this – or with me. I brought you here because it was the only way to keep you alive.”

“That’s not your decision to make.” She was holding on by a thread, rocking back and forth to try to soothe the pain. How could he have taken away her free will?

“It is my decision, Flame. It should have been. I love you and…”

“Damn you to hell for even saying that.” She jerked the cloth from her face and for the first time forced herself to look at him. It was a terrible mistake. He didn’t look like the devil. He looked like the man she loved with his dark wavy hair and his impossible eyes. His sinful mouth and perfect body. Instead of the anger and rage she so desperately needed, she broke down.

The storm inside her body took over and she heard a long wail of grief break free. It tore through her insides and escaped before she could contain it. Flame buried her face in the pillow in an attempt to muffle the sound of her sobbing. She’d given him something so precious. Not her body, or even her love, but she trusted him. She didn’t want to see shadows in his eyes, or a face ravaged by worry. She wanted to hate him the way he deserved to be hated.

The bed shook with her sobs. The room shook. Gator stood against the wall listening to her crying as if he’d not just broken her heart, but ripped it out of her body. He’d destroyed her. There was no way to comfort her, nothing he could find to say that she would understand. He sank into the small armchair he’d set by the door and covered his face with his hands. He’d expected anger, rage, an emotion he could cope with, but she was killing him with her grief. And it was grief. Her grief was destroying him.

He felt her pain as if it were his own. He’d done the right thing, taken the only avenue available to him. His chest tightened and his throat ached. Tears burned in his eyes. He’d done this to her. He’d made the decision to save her life, knowing he’d probably lose her, but he hadn’t considered the consequences beyond that. He thought he could bear losing her as long as he knew she was alive, but he couldn’t bear being the one to cause her such pain.

Flame felt a hand on her shoulder. Her first reaction was to shrug it off, but the hand was soft and thin, the scent strong of lavender. The hand stroked back her hair and a soft voice murmured comforting words. “There, there, cher. It will be all right. I’m here now. We’ll make it all right.”

“Nonny?” Was she hallucinating? She turned her head to see the little old lady standing beside her bed, her eyes filled with concern. “You can’t be here.” She tried to get the words out between the tearing sobs. Her breathing was so ragged, her throat so sore, she could barely get the words out. Worse, she was going to be sick again.

Flame groped blindly for the tray, vomiting over and over until she had the dry heaves. Nonny took the tray from her and pushed the wet washcloth into her hand. Somewhere in the room, Raoul watched and that knowledge only added to her humiliation. How could he do this to her?

Nonny was back, slipping an arm around her and taking the cloth, replacing it with a glass of water. “This will pass, Flame. Lily said you might be sick.”

Flame fought to control the wild weeping. She’d learned a long time ago it didn’t do any good. It only gave her a headache and made her angry with herself for giving Whitney the satisfaction of getting to her. Now it was Raoul. Another sob escaped. How could he have done it?

I had no choice.

Flame closed her eyes, ashamed of her lack of control. The intensity of her emotions was so strong she was connecting with him. She made an effort to pull herself together. Control. Discipline. Patience. She repeated it over and over until she calmed the wild storm enough to sip the water and gain a semblance of control.

“How long have I been here?”

“Forty-six hours,” Raoul answered. He leaned back until his head rested against the wall. He’d had forty-six hours to prepare for this, yet he had never considered her heart-or his-would break.

“That can’t be. Nonny, you have to get out of here, now. It’s too dangerous for you to stay. Raoul, get her out of here.”

Nonny patted her hand. “Now, now, child, don’ be gettin’ yourself riled up again. Raoul explained you were like him, some kind of government weapon, and that you could lose control and maybe bring the building down on top of us.”

“Not maybe, Nonny, I could. I don’t know what he was thinking, bringing you with him.”

“He told me what he was goin’ to do, and I knew you’d be plenty angry with him. It was wrong to take matters into his own hands, but he’s always been like that. I knew you’d be upset and you’d need me. I don’ care about the danger. Raoul loves you. You’re family, girl. I take care of my family.”

Flame shook her head. “This is crazy. You can’t stay, Nonny. Bad things happen in these places. Raoul knows that. He should never have allowed you to risk your life.”