“Why not?” he asked, already knowing the answer. When they’d been together, they’d been raw. Real. When they had ended, he’d been nothing. Had she lost herself, too?
She shook her head and released his shirt. “I can’t do it again.”
Yeah. He got that. Relying on training, sucking deep to remember who he’d become, he let her slide to the floor. Then he took a step back. He didn’t know how to be coy, and he didn’t have time for games. Plus, the woman deserved the truth and always had. “I want another chance, Nora.” If for no other reason than to get her out of his fucking blood for good. Out of his dreams.
She blinked, her eyes widened, and she tried to step back, but the wall held her in place. “Absolutely not.”
He respected her, and he’d walk away if she insisted. But too many emotions glimmered in her eyes. Anger. Fear. Denial. Beyond those, beyond the gates keeping him out, he saw something else. Desire. Yeah. It was there. So he smiled and stepped away. “We’ll discuss it over dinner tonight, after what’ll probably be a long day at work for us both. My place—right next to yours down the hallway. You bring the wine.”
An hour after meeting with her bewildered team and being ferreted to the CDC, Nora strode into Lynne’s temporary office in the D.C. location. “Your jeans are too tight on me,” Nora groused.
“Nora.” Lynne dropped a stack of papers onto her disaster of a desk, hustling around to give Nora a hug. “I’m sorry about the secrecy—I tried to call you.” She leaned back, light green eyes warm but marred by dark circles beneath them. “They took our phones. I had to leave Dean Winchester with a neighbor.”
“You are way too attached to that cat.” Nora forced a smile and studied her best friend. Lynne had piled her curly dark hair up on her head, revealing a graceful neck and very pale skin. At five-six, they were about the same height, but Lynne was definitely more slender. “You look exhausted.”
Lynne laughed. “I am.” She tucked her arm through Nora’s and pulled her from the room. “The jeans and shirt fit you fine. I’ve heard your ex is running the military side of this for the president, but I haven’t met the Scottish bastard yet. Have you seen him?”
“Aye,” Nora said in an imitation of his brogue. “Bossy as ever.”
Lynne tugged her closer. “Sexy as ever?”
“Yes.” Nora sighed. “Definitely bad boy to the bone.”
Lynne sniffed. “Very bad. Doesn’t care about the Constitution at all.”
“I know, right?” Nora stiffened her shoulders. “My team just arrived, and they are not happy.”
“None of us are happy.” Lynne halted as Zach Barter loped around the corner, blond hair ruffled, tie askew.
He stopped, and his eyes bugged out. “Dr. Harmony.TheDr. Harmony.”
Nora rolled her eyes. “Lynne, this is my assistant, Dr. Zach Barter. He’s, ah, heard of you.”
Zach shoved wire-rimmed glasses back up his nose. “I’ve read the paper you published last month about sequencing bacterial DNA. Twice.”
“Twice.” Lynne lifted an eyebrow. “That’s nice.”
Amusement bubbled up through Nora. “Actually, considering Zach has an eidetic memory,twiceis quite the compliment.”
Lynne smiled. “It’s nice to meet you in person, Dr. Barter, although you refused my job offer a year ago.”
Zach flushed a deep red across his clean-shaven face. “I went where the money was, Doctor. I’m a whore.”
Lynne threw back her head and laughed, tightening her hold on Nora. “So is my best friend. Thank goodness she lets me borrow her fancy shoes when necessary.” She launched into movement again. “We’re heading to the main lab to look at the bacterium up close. Want to join us?”
“Well, sure. I’m not much of a lab guy and usually deal with the methodology. Not a big fan of the icky stuff.” Zach pivoted and fell into step. “I’ve been studying the medical histories of the two students fighting what your doctors misdiagnosed as schizophrenia.”
“Stop sayingicky.” Nora bit back a smile. “Zach. Gentle talk here about other doctors.”
He squinted blue eyes through the glasses. “That was gentle.”
Lynne sighed. “Geniuses.”
“Yep.” Nora glanced at her best friend as they wound through long hallways. Soon red and yellow biohazard signs became visible and then lined the way. “Aren’t we geniuses?”
“Not like I am,” Zach said without a hint of ego.
True. Nora nodded. “What’s the correct diagnosis for the two surviving students who have changed behaviorally, oh brilliant one?”
