Mine to Take (9 page)

He’d prefer to get her back to the hotel. To get her naked in his bed again.

Once wasn’t nearly enough.

But he had to eliminate the threats around her first.

“When are you expecting Loxley back?” Trace asked the blonde nurse.

Then, speak of the damn devil, Loxley marched around the corner. The guy’s white lab coat swirled around him as he put a clipboard on the nurse’s station. “Marsha, make sure the low carb diet for Mr. Rodriguez continues for at least twenty-four more hours and…” He trailed off.

Because his gaze had lifted.

And locked on Skye.

Another asshole that I want to punch.

But, at least unlike Robert, Loxley didn’t rush across the room and wrap Skye in a too-tight hug.

Loxley didn’t move at all, but his gaze sure seemed to drink Skye in.

What was it about her?  She drew men to her. She’d sure drawn him easily enough.

Addicted him, from the very first.

“Dr. Loxley.” With an effort, Trace kept all the emotion from his voice. “We need a few minutes of your time.”

The guy’s startled gaze flew to his. The doc hadn’t even seemed aware of the fact that Trace was standing there, not until that moment.

Trace wasn’t used to being ignored.

He flashed his teeth in a shark’s grin. “We’re going to need that time, now.”

“I-I just finished my rounds.” Loxley glanced at his watch. “I can spare a few minutes. Come this way.” Then he turned, without another word, and headed back down the corridor.

Trace took his time following the doc, and he made sure not to let go of Skye.

How did she feel about the doctor?  The fellow was close to Trace’s height, had a build similar to Trace…Mitch Loxley even had the same dark hair.

Mitch Loxley seemed like a safer, more dependable version of Trace.

Trace hated the sonofabitch.

Files were scattered around the doctor’s office.  A few framed photographs.  The doc grabbed the files and shoved them on his desk, blocking some of those photos.

But Trace had already seen them.   

Yes, he
hated
the SOB.

“What are you doing here, Skye?” Loxley asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.  Now that they were away from the nurse’s station, the polite veneer that the doc had worn while they had an audience showed signs of cracking. “I thought you’d gone to Chicago.”

He knew where she’d headed.

“I did.” Skye pulled her hand from Trace’s. “Do you…do you remember when I said that someone forced me off the road?”

Mitch’s dark eyebrows shot up. “
That’s
why you’re here? The cops told you that there were no signs of—”

“Someone attacked me recently, in Chicago.” Her voice was soft. “Before the attack, someone had been following me for days, weeks…the same way the person followed me here, in New York.” 

The faint lines near Mitch’s eyes deepened. “Look, you were under a lot of stress after the accident, I get that…but the cops said—”

“I’m not real interested in what the cops said,” Trace cut in. He wasn’t in the mood to have this pompous prick dismiss Skye’s fears.  “I’m interested in what Skye says. Someone attacked her, and I’m here to find out who that was.”

Loxley’s brown eyes darted from Skye to Trace. “Are you some kind of bodyguard or something?”

“Something.”

Those brown eyes assessed Trace. “I’ve seen you before.” Mitch’s fingers snapped together. “You were at the hospital, back when Skye was first brought in. The admins upstairs forced us to let you in to see her.”

With the right leverage, he’d found his way to Skye’s bedside.  The fact that he’d made a hefty donation to the hospital’s charity board had certainly helped his situation.

Mitch’s eyes widened. “You’re Trace Weston.”

Trace shrugged.

“Trace,” the doctor gritted as his gaze jumped to Skye. “I’ve heard that name before, haven’t I?”

She flinched.

What the hell is that about?

“I should have known,” Loxley continued, “when you told me you were headed back to Chicago, that you’d wind up with him.” He exhaled. “I don’t know what you want from me, Skye. You left and—
hold the hell up.
” A muscle flexed in his jaw as the doc seemed to fully grasp the situation. “You think it was me?  You think I’m the one who came after you?”

“Are you?” Trace asked him. 

The color had fled from Skye’s face. Trace didn’t like that. Not at all. 

“I didn’t even
know
her before the accident. So I sure couldn’t have been stalking her then.”  Mitch threw himself into his chair. The wheels rolled back. “And, no, I didn’t rush after her to Chicago.  The sex was good, but trust me, I’ve moved the hell on.”

The sex was good.
Every muscle in Trace’s body tensed.

“Give us a moment, would you, Skye?”  Trace’s voice was soft. Too soft.

“Trace…” Worry had entered her voice. She did still know him so well.  

He glanced at her. “It will only take a moment.” 

Skye shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere.  This is
my
life we’re talking about.”

The drumming of his heartbeat filled Trace’s ears.  He forced himself to look back at the doctor. “Do you remember who visited Skye while she was here?”

“I remember you,” Loxley snapped. “I don’t forget it when the hospital VP tells me I have to let some visitor in against regulations.”

The guy needed to stop pushing. “Anyone else?”

“I have a lot of patients, it’s not like I can remember everything—”

“You don’t fuck all your patients.”  Trace paused. “At least, I hope you don’t. So since Skye warranted
special
treatment from you, I’m thinking you might have paid a bit more attention to who was coming and going from her room.”

The doctor’s eyes had narrowed.  Anger burned in his dark gaze. “The British guy,” Mitch bit out. “Wolfe. He came in, so did some of the women she danced with.  I never saw anyone else, but then, I was working my rounds. Treating other patients. Not keeping a twenty-four seven watch on Skye.”

The doctor just kept pushing…

“I guess I know why you told me good-bye, Skye,” Loxley said as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “But then, I knew what was happening after that night.”

“I’m sorry,” Skye told him.

Trace stiffened. Oh, hell, no, she didn’t need to apologize to this jerk who didn’t understand the whole concept of a doctor-patient relationship.

“So am I,” Loxley murmured. His gaze shifted to the door.  Jaw hard, he said, “Now if that’s all, I have work to do.”

No, that wasn’t all. “I need to know where you’ve been the last few days, doctor.” Though Trace had a feeling that friendly nurse Marsha could give him that info.

“Why? Because you think I flew to Chicago and attacked Skye?” Mitch rose from his chair. Crossed the small room until he stood right in front of Skye. “Is that what you think? That I would hurt you? I’m the one who saved your life. I’m the one who helped you.”

“It’s not like that, Mitch,” Skye said.  There was some bite in her voice. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s happening. You don’t understand—he’s been watching me. For so long.” Her hair slid over her shoulders as she shook her head. “I’m tired of being afraid. I want him stopped. I thought…
we
thought you might have seen someone, seen something that could help—”

“If I knew anything that would help you, I’d tell you.”  Mitch’s gaze swept over her face. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

Skye nodded. She turned away.  Trace headed to her side.  He took her elbow.

Made sure that she exited that room.

But…before he left…

Trace shut the door. He flipped the lock so that Skye couldn’t burst back inside. Then he squared off against the doctor.

“I don’t really care for bullshit.” Trace figured it was good to be blunt.

Skye knocked on the door. “Trace?” Her voice was high, shocked. “What the hell are you doing?”

He pointed to the desk. “If you’re so over Skye, why is her picture on your desk?” 

The doc’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

“You better have people here who can say that you haven’t left town.  Because if I find out that you’ve been following Skye…” Trace smiled and knew the sight would chill. “I will make sure that you’re never a threat to her again.”

“I-I didn’t even realize the photo was still there. I just haven’t tossed it out—”

“You’re done with Skye.  She’s done with you. She’s moved the fuck on, and you need to do the same.”  Trace held the guy’s gaze a moment longer, wanting to make sure the fellow got the point. 

Skye’s fist hit the door. “Trace,
stop it
!” Fear and anger twined in that demand.

Because she remembered what he was like. She shouldn’t worry so much. He was leaving the doctor in one piece. For the moment.

The sex was good.

“It might have just been good with you,” Trace said as he cast a disdainful glance at the doc. “But it’s fucking fantastic with me.”

Then he left the not-so-good doctor glaring after him. 

“What did you do?” Skye pounced on him.

He shrugged. “Set a few things straight.”

Now it was time to find that nurse and confirm Mitch Loxley’s whereabouts.

The door slammed closed behind him. Trace was pretty sure he heard a fist hit the wood.

Good. The message had been received.

***

She belonged with him.

Skye had to see it. No one else would do for her. No one else could match her the way he did.

They were meant to be.

Her sweet scent still filled his lungs. Her face haunted his nights.

He couldn’t get away from her.

He’d make sure she didn’t escape from him.

There was no place that she could hide. He’d been watching her for too long. He knew all her secrets.

Beautiful Skye carried so many secrets.

She wasn’t the good girl that people thought her to be. Wasn’t the sweet sleeping beauty in need of true love’s kiss.

Skye had a dark side. That was why he was so drawn to her.

Skye’s darkness matched his own.

No one would come between them.

Not now.

Not ever.

He’d see Skye dead first.

“The trip was a waste of time.” The plane flew through the air, the sound of its engines not even penetrating the lush interior.  Skye’s fingers fumbled with the clasp of her seatbelt.

Trace sat across from her. His legs were spread, brushing against hers, and a glass of whiskey was held loosely in his hand.

“I told you before…none of those men would do this.”  Her ex’s.  Since Evan was shooting a film in Hawaii, he’d been ruled off Trace’s suspect list. At least, she hoped that he had. 

Both Mitch and Robert’s alibis had checked out. Four dancers had backed up Robert. And the nurse with the too-big breasts had been quick to fill in Trace about Mitch’s recent activities.

“I needed to see them,” Trace took a long drink of the whiskey, “and their reaction to you.”

“To me? Uh, they didn’t exactly have a reaction—”

He downed the rest of the whiskey in a fast gulp. “Robert views you as a possession.
His
possession. A dancer that he controls.”

Yes, he did. She glanced out the darkened window.  That was the reason she’d broken things off with him.  Not that there had been much to break-off. They’d only been together a week when she realized she’d made a serious mistake by getting intimately involved with him.

“As for the doctor, he was lying through his teeth.” Trace sat the empty glass down beside him.

“What do you mean?”  Marsha had said that Mitch hadn’t left town in over two months. Trace had seemed doubtful, but Marsha had pulled out appointment calendars that were filled with patient listings—all tying back to Mitch.  

“Mitch Loxley would take you back in an instant if he could.  He probably still jerks off to you at night.”

Her mouth dropped open. He had
not
just said that to her. “You can’t know that…”

“Sure I can.  Because I did the same damn thing until I got you back.”  Trace unhooked his seatbelt. Stared at her with glittering eyes. “Come here, Skye.”

She didn’t want to move.  “We didn’t learn anything useful in New York.” Why had her voice gone all husky?

His hot gaze stayed on hers. “I got a chance to talk personally with the cops. I went over the police report for your accident. I actually learned a hell of a lot.”

She shook her head. “We don’t know who’s doing this—”

“Come here.”

His voice had deepened.

“I’m right here.” Her heart was pounding too hard and fast in her chest.  She shifted her legs restlessly.  Brushed them against his. The move hadn’t been deliberate, had it?

“That’s not close enough.” His fingers tapped against the armrests on either side of his seat. “I like that skirt on you.”

It wasn’t like she’d had a lot of clothing choices. Since he’d been the one to pack for this little trip, she’d had to take what she could get.

Right then, Skye wore a long, black skirt and matching top.

Underneath that skirt? 

Thigh highs.  Her garter belt.

“What did the doctor mean when he said, ‘
after that night’
?
”

Her breath burned in her lungs. She did not want to make this confession. She needed to keep a little pride.

“Skye…”

Her head jerked.  “It doesn’t matter. We’re over.”

“You and Loxley are.” He hadn’t moved from his seat.  “But you and I are just getting started.” His gaze swept over her.  “Why are you afraid of me?”

That question caught her off guard. “I’m not!” An instant denial.

“Of course, you are. You’ve been afraid of me since the night we met.”

She didn’t want to remember that night. “You saved me then.”

“I scared you because I was so violent. Because in that one instant, you saw the real me—the me that I try so hard to hide from everyone else.”

The man who’d walked a razor’s edge of violence. Who’d attacked with a stunning fury. 

“No other woman has seen me like that.” His gaze returned to pin hers. “I try to take care with them, to make sure that I hold myself in check.”