Rx Missing (Decorah Security Series, Book #10): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel (8 page)

He could have turned and gone back to the bar, but he had the conviction that finding out what Lily was up to was more important than anything else he could think of.

Why? He couldn’t answer. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything in here was speeding up and that if he didn’t find out what was going on, time would whiz by so fast that it would smack him in the ass on the way past.

Not even sure what that meant, he stared at the lock. Then, on a hunch, he slipped the keycard out of his pocket and inserted it in the door slot. As he’d half expected, the light turned green. And why not? It was kind of like the computers not giving access to personal mail but providing a selection of games and movies.

Fake. Or not designed to function the way you had a right to expect.

A right?

He was pretty sure his rights had been summarily snatched away from him before he’d woken up in this artificial environment. Because he knew it was only a cunning shadow of reality. And maybe it would have taken longer to figure that out if the sky hadn’t turned wonky and the guy in the woods hadn’t tried to take over his mind. His only consolation there was that the same thing had happened to Lily, too. She hadn’t been faking her fear and confusion. In fact, maybe it was worse than his, because she expected something from this place—and wasn’t getting it—and he had no expectations.

Quietly he pushed the door open and stepped across the dark polished wood floor onto the plush Oriental rug, feeling the thumping of his heart. Because he was doing something he knew was wrong? Or because he thought he was finally going to get some information?

He spared the chamber a quick glance. Like his digs, this was a suite with a living room furnished in English period pieces and presumably a bedroom down a short hall.

He might have moved slowly and quietly, but he was in a hurry now. Good thing. As he strode down the hall, he saw Lily reaching for the closet door. When she realized she wasn’t alone, she pushed the door shut, her eyes wide as she stared at the man who had dared to follow her into what should be personal space.

“What are you doing here? You don’t just walk into a woman’s bedroom,” she said in a voice it seemed she couldn’t quite hold steady.

He’d had the same thought before he’d decided to follow through on the forced entry. Well, not exactly forced.

“How did you get in?”

He held up the plastic rectangle. “With my keycard.”

“Your card? Why would it work in my door?”

“Because the locking system is fake, just like the entertainment system is all old, prerecorded stuff.”

Before she could grapple with that, he shot another question at her. “Why did you rush up here?”

“I didn’t rush.”

“You looked like you were in pretty much of a hurry when I saw you race up the stairs.”

“But I checked . . .” Her voice trailed off as she must have realized what she was admitting. She started again. “What were you doing, following me?”

He lifted one shoulder. “To be clear, I was following Wright, not you. I was at the door to the business center when you flew past. What was so important that you left the rest of those wretched souls to fend for themselves?”

“I’m not their keeper.”

“What are you?”

She hesitated for a moment. “A person who ended up in this weird place.”

“I think you know more about it than the rest of us.”

“No.”

The denial lacked conviction.

Lily didn’t like the accusatory tone of Mack’s voice. It was one of the many things she hated about this whole miserable charade. Not just that he’d asked the question but that she had to keep him from finding out what she’d been going to do.

She might have screamed in frustration, if that had been an option. When she’d agreed to put herself in this situation, she hadn’t understood all the implications. Not by a long shot. Before she’d woken up in her bedroom in the Mirador Hotel, she’d thought of most of the other people who were here in the abstract. With the exception of a few, like Mack Bradley. Now she could see that they were real individuals with real problems and real fears.

But her change of perception wasn’t just having to do with the people she’d met here. It was the black bird that had landed in the woods, the clouds that had taken over the sky, turning the bright blue into a preview of horrors to come.

And then going into the woods with Mack and almost losing her mind. If he hadn’t been with her, she was pretty sure she would have ended up like someone who’d had a prefrontal lobotomy.

Now he had invaded her bedroom with an aggressive defiance that would have frightened her if he’d been one of the other men in the hotel.

But this was Mack, the only guy here she thought she understood. In the short time they’d been in this place, she’d seen him as a born leader, a protector of the weak, and also a man who was determined to figure out why he had ended up with a bunch of strangers in this hotel.

And when he’d decided she was acting suspiciously, he’d wanted to know what was up.

As he moved purposefully toward the closet, she knew she had to keep him from going in there. And the only way she could think of was to make him change the focus of his thoughts to something a lot more personal than Lily Wardman’s suspect motivations.

Without giving herself time to reconsider, she reached for him.

The move was so out of character that she could hardly believe what she was doing. She hadn’t been with a man in years. She certainly shouldn’t be with this one. But something about this place and the man made it seem like the right thing to do, at least at this moment.

And she had a good reason, she told herself. She had to stop his blatant snooping.

Of course it was a lot more than that. She’d been drawn to him, not just when she’d encountered him in this weird environment. Before . . . .

Well, she’d better not think about that. As far as this reality was concerned, there was no “before.” There was only now.

As she folded him into her arms, she felt him go very still, probably trying to decide how to react to her sudden invitation.

Even as she drew him closer, she knew deep down that it was the wrong thing to do, and perhaps in some part of her mind, she was hoping he would break the contact.

He’d come in here to challenge her. But it seemed that she’d succeeded in making him forget his reason for being in her room, and she was having a similar reaction. As he moved to gather her close, any hesitation she felt was simply blotted out the way strong sunshine strikes a windshield and temporarily blinds you.

Mack Bradley filled her senses as he lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that took up where they had left off out on the grass. Both of them had been powerfully aroused not long ago, and now that arousal fused them together as though the physical separation during the time they’d spent in the bar afterwards had only been a way of increasing their need for each other.

Part of her mind still knew that this personal contact was wrong in so many ways, but she was beyond heeding anything besides her own needs—and his. If she could give him nothing else, she could give him herself. At least for this small space of time.

He angled his head, drinking from her like a man who had been stumbling across a desert, sure that he was going to die—then finally finding the one thing that would keep him alive.

And she silently admitted that the kiss was no less potent for her. She drank him in, tasting the bourbon on his breath and also the need. She knew he’d been alone for a long time. She knew from poring over his biography that it wasn’t easy for him to let down his guard, but here he was clasping her to him, running his hands up and down her back, cupping her bottom as he drank her in with an urgency that made her own needs rise to meet his.

When he pulled away, she heard a sob of protest rise in her throat, but he was only giving himself the space to yank the tee shirt he wore over his head. She did the same with her own shirt and bra, discarding them and tossing them away.

She and Mack were both naked to the waist, and she fought the impulse to cross her arms across her breasts as his scorching gaze traveled over her, making her nipples tighten to hard points.

“You are stunning,” he growled.

Nobody had ever said that to her.

“Am I?”

“Oh yeah.” As he spoke, he reached for her again, pulling her close.

She gasped at the skin to skin contact, her nails digging into his naked back. She could feel his erection pressing against her through the fabric of his jeans and her trousers.

He muttered a low curse, and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was. The rest of their clothing was in the way.

She found the button at the top of his jeans and opened it before reaching to open his fly. He was doing her the same favor, dragging her pants down and out of the way. When they were both naked, they clasped each other, exchanging hot kisses.

He filled her senses, taste, touch and the rough sound of his voice as he whispered hot, erotic words.

Lifting her up, he carried her to the bed, laying her down gently, his gaze roaming over her. She stared up at him, admiring his strong body and the thick erection that stood out in front of him.

“And you are breathtaking.”

She flushed when she realized she’d said that aloud.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” she echoed as she clasped her hand around his cock, feeling the weight and the power of him.

His gaze burned into hers as he watched her stroke him.

“Don’t make me wait,” she murmured.

He answered with an inarticulate sound, coming down beside her on the bed and sweeping her into his arms. Their legs tangled together as they rocked in each other’s arms, hands stroking, mouths seeking and finding. He rolled her to her back, and she opened her legs for him, clasping him again so that she could guide him into her.

When they were joined, he went very still, poised above her as though he were committing every detail of this moment to memory.

Then he began to move, a few slow strokes that quickly turned to a fast rhythm that she strove to match as they both drove up a steep incline. When they reached the top, they flew off the edge together, clinging to each other as sensation swept through them.

For a few moments they had been somewhere else. She didn’t even know where. Then she heard his harsh breathing, felt his weight settle.

He raised his head, staring down at her, before rolling to his side, taking her with him.

For long moments, neither of them spoke.

Finally he said in a gritty voice, “I’m sorry. You didn’t exactly invite me into your bedroom.”

“It worked out okay,” she answered, wondering when sex had ever been that shockingly powerful.

“The thing is, we haven’t even had a first date.”

“Are you having regrets?” she heard herself ask.

“Probably that should be my line.”

She shook her head. “Neither one of us was prepared for what that trip into the woods did to us.”

He stroked his hand up her arm. “Yeah.”

“Has anything like that ever happened to you?” she asked.

“No, you?”

“No.”

Her skin had been flushed. Now the cool air was uncomfortable. When she reached for the edge of the spread, he climbed out of the bed so that he could pull the covers down before getting back under and covering them both. She moved back toward him, and he turned on his side so that he could gather her close.

Neither of them spoke again for a while, and she wished they could just drift here, calm and peaceful in the afterglow of making love. She didn’t want to think too much about what they had just done, or why. Or what might come next. Logically, making love with him had been an act of madness, because nothing could come next she told herself.

He caught the shiver that went through her.

“What?”

“I was thinking about this place,” she said, not exactly lying, she told herself.

“You mean, that we both grabbed the opportunity to get away for a little while.”

“I hate to put it that way,” she whispered.

“How would you put it?”

“We’re both feeling shaky—and we turned to each other.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t love the way he’d said that. But she wasn’t going to challenge him on his feelings.

“I don’t usually . . .”

“Hop into bed with a guy you hardly know,” he finished for her.

“Yes,” she agreed. “How do you know?”

He laughed. You are definitely not that kind of woman.

“What kind am I?”

“What they used to call a good girl. Casual sex isn’t part of your morality.”

She answered with a small nod. “And you’re a guy who spends long periods away from home. And when you’re on leave, you . . . tend to let your hair down.”

“We wear our hair short.”

“I meant figuratively.” She found his hand under the covers and wove her fingers with his. “So tell me about Mack Bradley.”

Again, she’d read his file and knew some of the basics. But she wanted to hear more of what he chose to tell her.

“I already said some stuff downstairs.”

“Yes,” she answered. “I know what you do and the last thing you remember before waking up here. But what do you think is important about yourself?”

He thought for several moments. “I don’t know. I had a pretty normal childhood in western Maryland. And I think I was lucky having a lot of freedom to just be a kid. Probably the most unusual thing about me is that I have a twin brother.”

“Were you friends or rivals?”

“Friends. And sometimes rivals. I think we both made an effort not to end up in exactly the same place. I went to the Naval Academy. He went to McDaniel College, then joined the CIA.”

“He’s still with them?”

“He left to work for a private security agency. Then he went back home to run our dad’s outfitter business.”

“He hasn’t settled down?”

“Neither have I.” He made a dismissive sound. “Well, I was married but it didn’t work out.”

“Why not?”

“I think she started off seeing my job as glamorous. Then she didn’t like the long separations. After she left, I focused on my career. Maybe I was trying to prove to myself that any sacrifices I made were worth it.” He snorted. “And now I’m
here
, which means that anything I was doing before this is . . .”

“What?”

He lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. Did you ever watch Twilight Zone reruns?”

“Yes. My mom and I watched them together.”

“And a lot of times people were trapped in some kind of some kind of meaningless existence.”

“Why bring that up?” she asked, wishing she could soothe away his doubts.

His face hardened. “Because you know as well as I do that this place isn’t real.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then closed again as he kept talking.

“Maybe I could have convinced myself it was—at least for a while. But not after that crap with the sky—and then the woods. It’s like being on an LSD trip, only we weren’t imagining it. Were we?”

“No,” she whispered.

“What are the chances of getting out of here, do you think?”

She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. She wanted to assure him that, of course, they were getting out, but she knew it was almost certainly a lie.

She saw him studying her. “What?”

“What are you worried about?”

“The same thing as you.”

Although he didn’t comment, she wondered if he believed it.

Instead, he said, “Your turn.”

“To what?”

“Tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what?”

“Like why did you become a nurse?”

She swallowed hard, thinking that she would have phrased the question differently.

“Because of my little sister,” she answered. “When she was five, we were in an auto accident. She had refused to sit in her car seat, and she was thrown from the car. My dad was driving, and he said it was his fault that he hadn’t insisted on strapping her in.” She stopped and took a breath. “She was in a coma, and there was nothing they could do for her. The doctor wanted to pull the plug, but Dad insisted on keeping her on life support.”

“I thought you said she was dead.”