“What about your research?” he asked. “Your reputation as a scientist?”
The questions didn’t surprise me. Beck liked to downplay his intelligence, but he was sharper than anyone I’d met. He understood the sacrifice I’d be making if I pretended I’d made such critical errors.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “My reputation isn’t worth more than people’s lives.”
He stared at me for a long moment, conflict warring in his eyes. Then he pulled me against his chest and wrapped his arms around me. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
I pressed my face into his bare skin, breathing in his scent. Spice and pine and something uniquely Beck.Magic, I realized.
“I’m terrified,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his chest.
“I know.” He kissed the top of my head. “But we’re going to get through this together.”
He held me that way for a long moment. When he eased back, love shone in his eyes. “I’m going to make you dinner while you work. You need to eat something.”
“So do you.”
“Anything in particular you’d like?”
“If you make it, I’ll eat it.”
His smile was soft—and a little sad. “What every cook wants to hear.” Rising, he pulled me to my feet. “Come on. I’ll take you to your room.”
“In a towel?”
He lifted a brow as he tugged me toward the door. “I’m a shifter. Clothing is always optional.”
He laced his fingers with mine and led me to my room. At the doorway, he leaned in and gave me a slow, tender kiss. When he pulled back, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ll get dressed. Then I’ll be right downstairs if you need me.”
“Okay.” I watched him head down the hall, my lips tingling from his kiss. Then I turned and crossed to my desk. My laptop was closed. So was the field journal next to it.
I sat and opened my laptop. Dr. Henry had taken so much from me. My trust. My sense of safety. The friendship I’d cherished.
But he wouldn’t take Beck. He wouldn’t take Bear Cove.
Drawing a deep breath, I pulled up a new document and began typing. My fingers flew over the keys, the words coming more easily than I expected. I described errors in my equipment calibration and flaws in my data collection methods.Contaminated samples. Clumsy methodology and imprecise measurements.
My head was clear, my eyes dry. A sense of purpose hummed deep in my bones. Maybe because, for the first time in my life, I was making a choice that was entirely my own.
Chapter
Eighteen
BECK
An hour later, I climbed the stairs with two plates of chicken and roasted vegetables. The hallway was quiet, golden lamplight spilling from beneath Charlotte’s door.
I knocked softly. When she didn’t answer, I tucked one of the plates into my elbow and slipped inside.
Charlotte sat slumped over her desk with her head pillowed on her forearms. Her back rose and fell in the slow rhythm of sleep. The laptop was open, the screen casting blue light across her face. Her glasses sat next to the keyboard. A crumpled tissue lay beside them.
I set the plates on the dresser and crossed to the desk. My chest tightened as I read the words on her screen.
Calibration error…
Flawed thermal imaging model…
Inconsistent data collection protocols resulting in contaminated samples…
