Consumed with a single-minded determination, she stalked inside the building, searching for the object of her wrath. She found Angelo in the front office, deep in conversation with one of the lead researchers from the oncology wing. The sight of him triggered a fresh wave of resentment, and it took every ounce of self-control to push back the urge to blast him with her pepper spray.
“Good morning, Ms. Griffith. Are you feeling all right? You look a little pale,” Angelo said when he noticed her approaching. The bastard had the nerve to look concerned.
“We have to talk,” Sarah bit out, barely capable of controlling her temper. Her stomach gurgled, making her regret that last cup of coffee. “Now.”
“Yes, we do.” Angelo excused himself and led her down the hall to his office. He rounded the desk and motioned for her to take the chair on the opposite side. “I have some serious concerns about your neighbor. I think he may be dangerous.”
Sarah didn’t bother sitting down. One look at Angelo’s feigned concern and she lost all sense of restraint. “You son of a bitch. You drugged me.”
His eyes widened briefly, telling her everything she needed to know. Angelo recovered quickly, his expression turning intentionally blank. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, his Italian accent becoming more pronounced.
Why was she not surprised by his denial? “Bullshit.”
“Sarah, really. There is no reason to resort to such vulgarities.” He shook his head and made a sour face. “So low class.”
“Oh, I think there’s plenty of reasons. You’ve been trying to get into my pants for months.” She planted her hands on his desk, leaning over so her face came within inches of his. “What did you put in my drink? And don’t waste my time denying it.”
“How dare you insult me with these ridiculous accusations?” His voice turned cold and steely, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Your behavior is awfully close to insubordination.”
“And your behavior is awfully close to attempted rape.”
Angelo’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Even if I did drug you—which I did not—you have no evidence to substantiate your ridiculous claims.” A sneer curled his lips as he folded his arms across his chest. “Besides, who would believe you? I am a distinguished member of the scientific community. My work has been recognized in six countries across three continents. You, on the other hand, are nothing but a low-level lab rat, trying to make a name for herself.”
Sarah’s blood pressure shot so high her vision flashed red. Her stomach gurgled again, sending out a ripple of nausea. Or was it disgust? At this point, it was hard to tell the difference. “There have been witnesses.”
“Witnesses to what?” The sneer shifted to a smug smile. “Do you honestly think anyone in this facility will testify on your behalf?”
“Jackie would.” Sarah took a deep breath when she noticed her hands were shaking. “She’s seen it happen plenty of times.”
“Are you sure about that?” Angelo settled back in his chair, his posture relaxing as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “In spite of her numerous deficiencies, Jacqueline is an intelligent woman. I believe her sense of self-preservation outweighs any perceived loyalty on your behalf.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
But then she met his confident gaze, and she knew he’d do it in a heartbeat. Hell, she’d be willing to bet he’d already done it to some other poor soul. If Jackie verified her claims of harassment, she’d be out the door before her chair had a chance to get cold. And with two kids at home, the job—and its healthy paycheck—was essential to her survival.
Angelo’s features hardened, giving Sarah a glimpse of the ruthless nature he normally kept hidden behind a thick veneer of charm and good manners. “Try me.”
She glared at him with unblinking eyes; so angry she could spit nails. When push came to shove, she had no way of proving her accusations without putting her friend’s livelihood in jeopardy. Not to mention trashing her own career in the process. Another wave of nausea rippled through her, and she swallowed hard to force back the bile. “If you ever lay a hand on me again, so help me God I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” He had the gall to look amused, which made her even madder. He rose from his chair and rounded the desk. “I don’t understand why you insist on making things difficult for yourself.” He stepped closer, lightly stroking the side of her jaw with the backs of his knuckles. “Instead of fighting, we could be enjoying each other’s company.”
“Get bent.” She swatted his hand away. “And don’t you ever touch me again.”
Sarah stormed out of Angelo’s office in a last-ditch effort to salvage the remaining shreds of her dignity. Biting the inside of her cheek, she fought back the wave of emotions threatening to trigger a meltdown of epic proportions. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
She’d just walked past his secretary when she heard Angelo call her name.
“Oh Sarah?” His tone was rich with a sugary sweetness that made her stomach lurch. “I forgot to tell you something.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Sarah?”
After a slow count to ten, she turned in his direction. “What?”
“Jacobsen will be taking over in Lab Two, starting this afternoon. Please make sure to give him all of your notes pertaining to the progress of the trials.”
To add insult to injury, the bastard was stripping her of the lead position in her own lab. The news left her shocked, outraged, and angrier than she’d ever felt in her entire life. “What? Why? The tests are back on track. We’re only two weeks away from beginning the live trials.”
“Yes, but after the problems with contamination, I aim to ensure nothing else goes wrong.”
“But it’s my research! I’ve worked on this project for over a year!”
“Yes, but Jacobsen’s been here longer, therefore he has seniority. He also has more experience. I want him in charge. You’ll work as his assistant.”
Translation: Since you’re not going to play ball, I’m going to make your life miserable.
She was on the receiving end of payback, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Not if she planned on a future in the biomedical research community. One word from Angelo and her career was dead on arrival.
Sarah stalked back across the reception area, ignoring the curious look from Angelo’s secretary. She didn’t want to leave without some parting shot, to let him know that even though he held the upper hand, he hadn’t crushed her spirit. No way would she ever give in to his disgusting demands, even if it meant leaving Cava Tech and working as a door greeter at Walmart.
But in the end, she just threw up on his shoes.
chapter 9
At the end of the day, all David wanted was a hot shower and a cold beer. Oh, and a box of Brillo to scrub the last hour from his brain.
Whenever he thought he’d seen everything, the universe always managed to come up with unique and disturbing ways of broadening his horizons. Humans were the most contradictory of species, capable of both breathtaking generosity and incalculable cruelty. Today’s reap served to drive the latter point home. “If I never see another wood chipper, I’ll die a happy man.”
“You’re telling me.” Adam glanced down at his blood-splattered shirt and grimaced. “No amount of Clorox is going to get these stains out.”
“I warned you about getting too close.” David shook his head as he toed off his running shoes. Good thing the shoes and pants were dark enough to conceal the bloodstains; a thorough washing and they’d be good to go. His shirt, on the other hand, was a complete loss.
By the time David got out of the shower, Adam was hunkered down on the couch with the dog parked at its usual spot by his side. Adam scratched the dog’s ears with one hand while speed-flipping channels with the other, watching each station for a fraction of a second before moving on to the next. His posture was relaxed, but the haunted look on his face told a much different story.
Not that he blamed the kid. It wasn’t every day you witnessed the darker side of industrial power tools.
“Pizza should be here in thirty,” Adam said, his eyes never leaving the TV while he continued to surf channels.
“Sounds good.” David got a bottle of beer from the fridge and moved over to the window, just in time to see Sarah cross the parking lot, heading in the direction of the clubhouse. An instinctual pull had him walking toward the front door. “I’m going to see how Sarah’s doing.”
Adam glanced up from the TV, brows raised. “I thought you said she was fine this morning.”
“I did.” Christ, can’t a guy check on a neighbor without having his motives called into question? David shot his apprentice a look of warning, making it clear he wasn’t in the mood to play Twenty Questions, especially after the grilling he got over kissing Sarah the night before. “But she probably had a rough day with that asshole boss of hers.”
For the first time that day, Adam smiled. “Whatever you say, boss.”
A few minutes later David found her behind the clubhouse. She was leaning against the wood railing by the far end of the pool, feeding bread to the ducks in the nearby pond. She wore loose-fitting shorts and a plain white V-neck that dipped low enough to show a hint of cleavage. Open-toed sandals gave a glimpse of pink toenails. She had a faraway look in her eyes, as if swept away in an ocean of thoughts.
“Hey there,” he said, bending down to brace his forearms on the railing beside her. He took a quick swallow of beer and set the bottle on the rail.
She blinked and glanced over, acknowledging his presence. “Hello, David.”
The sound of his name on her lips brought an unexpected rush of pleasure. Part of him worked hard to ignore it, while the other part wanted to hear her say it again. “Feeling any better?”
“As well as can be expected.” She flashed him a smile, but the sadness in her eyes betrayed her true emotions. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one having a shitty day.
“Good.” David paused, taking a long pull from his beer while he tried to figure out what to say next. Years of solitude had taken a toll on his conversation skills. “So how’d work go?”
“Super,” Sarah replied without any real hint of emotion. “I puked on Angelo this morning.”
David almost choked on his beer. “Want to run that by me again?”
“Threw up. Barfed. Blew chunks. All over my boss’s shoes. Guess I shouldn’t have eaten that second doughnut.” One side of her mouth tipped up a fraction as she tossed the remaining chunks of bread to the ducks. “I think I ruined a perfectly good pair of leather Ferragamos. On the bright side, I got to come home early.”
He thought about congratulating her for a job well done, but something in her expression warned him to proceed with caution. “Something else happened?”
“You could say so.” She told him about her confrontation with Angelo, about his thinly veiled threats, and her subsequent demotion to what she labeled “Assistant Flunkie.”
“I’m sorry,” David said as soon as she finished. He kept his tone even, but inside his temper heated to a boil. Protective urges bubbled to the surface, triggering emotions he hadn’t experienced in so long they felt totally alien.
“You sure do apologize an awful lot.” Sarah tipped her head back and stared up at the sky. She craned her neck into the wind, exposing the elegant line of her throat. “You should save those apologies for when they really count.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” He took another drink from his beer. “Would it make you feel better if I offered to rip Angelo’s lungs out? I can make that happen, you know.”
She didn’t laugh, but the ghost of a smile warmed the corners of her mouth. “Well, it certainly inspires a lovely mental image, but I’m afraid I’ll have to respectfully decline. Thanks anyway.”
“My pleasure.”
They stood together in relative silence while the sun slowly descended over the horizon, painting the sky with a magnificent display of pinks and blues. The pinks faded to purples, and the purples gradually darkened until tiny pin pricks of light dotted the night sky.
“Look, a shooting star,” David said, pointing to the flash of light streaking over the tree line.
Sarah’s gaze tracked east, catching the final streaks of light before they faded into the darkness.
“Did you make a wish?”
She looked at him as if he’d just sprouted a third eyeball. “What for?”
The question surprised him. “Well . . . because.” He shrugged. “You’re supposed to make a wish when you see a shooting star.”
“Why? There’s nothing magical about it. It’s just the trail of a meteoroid as it burns up in the earth’s atmosphere.”
“That’s a pretty clinical way of looking at things.”
Sarah’s posture stiffened, a defensive tone creeping into her voice. “It’s realistic. Through careful examination, almost everything labeled magical or extraordinary can be explained within the boundaries of science.”
Except for her. Never in a million years could he explain the way she drew him into her orbit and captivated his imagination. She was a walking contradiction. Emotional and analytical. Fiery yet reserved. And for reasons unknown he just couldn’t keep away. “That doesn’t mean you can’t wish on it.”
Sarah eyed him with open speculation. “What did you wish for?”
Truth be told, he wished he could feel something, anything, outside the jaded pit of apathy that dominated his daily existence. Keeping his emotions tightly wrapped had served him well over the years, but it also left him with an emptiness that gnawed at his psyche. He’d experienced a brief reprieve the night before, when she’d kissed him with such passion it made his knees buckle and left him yearning for things beyond his grasp.
Glancing over, his gaze met hers, and desire heated his blood. God, how he wanted to kiss her again, to hold her in his arms, to drag her upstairs and make love to her until they were both too tired to move. He nearly gave in to the crushing need, if not for the bitter realization that he couldn’t bask in her glory without opening himself to the darker emotions that plagued his daily existence.
“It’s a secret,” he finally said, once he wrangled his hormones back under control. “If I told you, it wouldn’t come true.”
Sarah’s head cocked to one side as if she was contemplating some great mystery. “Is there something going on between us?”
David didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied her over the space of a few heartbeats, taking in the full impact of her features. He’d seen his fair share of beautiful women over the years, but something about Sarah sucked the air right out of his lungs. There was no point denying the attraction. Too bad he had no intention of acting on it. “Yes—I mean no.”
Ah, shit.
“Maybe.”
“That’s good,” she said, humor lighting her smile. “I’m a sucker for a man who’s quick with a snap decision.”
“It’s . . . complicated.”
Her smile slipped a few notches. “Story of my life.”
“You have no idea.” He drained the last of his beer and tossed the empty bottle in the nearby trashcan. “I like you, Sarah.”
“What a coincidence. I like you, too.”
“I’m glad to hear that. But I can’t get into a relationship right now.” Not ever. Reapers weren’t exactly prime boyfriend material. The job always came first, leaving little room for outside interests. Besides, relationships with mortals never worked out in the long run. Too many questions to dodge and secrets to conceal. And affairs built on lies and deceptions were doomed from the get-go.
“Oh. I see,” she said, disappointment plain on her face.
Great. Now he felt like an asshole. “I’d still like to spend some time together,” he said, needing to say something—anything—to make her smile again. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Just friends?” Her lips curved up in a sly smile, and he had to shove his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out to touch her.
“Yeah. Just friends.”
She watched him for what seemed like forever, her eyes moving over him with a surprising intimacy. “I suppose,” she finally said, the words coming out on the tail end of a sigh. She took a few steps toward him, moving deep into his personal space. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Honesty. I don’t have time to play games.”
David nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Okay then, tell me this.” Her chin tipped up so their eyes met. “I vaguely remember something happening between us last night. Did something happen, or was I hallucinating?”
The lie was perched on the tip of his tongue.
Nothing happened, Sarah. Adam and I just changed your tires and drove you home.
It would be so easy to say, if he hadn’t just promised to be honest. Talk about shitty timing.
“I kissed you. In the garage,” he confessed, feeling a fresh round of guilt over mauling her like a horny teenager on prom night. He waited for her reaction, wondering if she would slap him across the face or knee him in the nuts.
Instead, her shoulders slumped as she blew out a heavy breath.
“Oh thank God,” she said, sounding far more relieved than the situation warranted. She ran her fingers through her hair and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like, “Not crazy yet.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing,” she replied quickly with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m just happy to know my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.”
He sensed there was more to it than what she was saying, but decided not to push his luck.
She was quiet for a few minutes before her gaze slanted back in his direction, bright and assessing. Then a sensual smile warmed her features and jump-started his libido. “It was good, wasn’t it?”
Oh, yeah.
The memory of her body pressed against his, of her fingers in his hair and her tongue in his mouth, had him going from zero to aroused in a little under two seconds. “Phenomenal.”
“Too bad we’re just friends. Otherwise, we could try it again.”
“Yeah. Damn shame.” The desire to kiss her fired his blood like a kettle set to boil. She stood close now, so close he picked up the subtle fragrance of her perfume. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking the scent into his lungs, knowing from this moment on he’d always associate citrus with Sarah.
When his eyes opened, he found her watching him with unmistakable heat. “You know,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically husky, “It’s really not fair.”
“What’s not fair?”
“The kiss,” she said, her eyes focused squarely on his mouth. “It’s not fair, you declaring a kiss embargo and I can’t even remember the first one.”
“Oh.”
“We could do it again,” she suggested, a hint of hope in her words. “You know, so I’ll know what I’m missing.”
“Isn’t it better not to know?”
“Maybe. Guess I’m masochistic that way.” Her dark eyes glittered with unspoken promise. “Just one.”
“Not a good idea.” He took a step back, and she shadowed his movement.
“Chicken?”
He nodded. “Terrified.”
A flicker of surprise crossed her face. Obviously, that wasn’t the answer she’d expected. “Why?”
“Because,” he said, coughing to clear the lump in his throat. “If I start, I don’t know if I can stop.”
She grinned at that. “Encouraging.” She stepped closer, and the scent of her perfume swamped his senses.
What was one little kiss, in the grand scheme of things? He’d been alone for so damn long, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. The isolation was beginning to wear on his soul, making him feel less human with each passing day. He needed this kiss, he told himself, a taste of passion before he returned to the detachment that had served him so well for so many years.