His laugh was cold and disbelieving. “You wouldn’t even tell me your fucking name. You call that respect?”
As if controlled by his will alone, her mind drifted back to the first time she’d seen Patrick. She’d been at Nuevo Biotech for almost a year. Treating hostile patients had become a normal part of her routine. That was why Patrick’s playful sarcasm and sensual smile took her by surprise.
The comm unit nestled in Heather’s ear vibrated for a moment, then the administrative AI announced, “Report to exam room three as soon as possible. Your task, repair a laceration.”
Heather closed out the report she’d been working on and pushed back from her tiny desk. Her quarters were small and utilitarian, but she didn’t spend enough time here to want anything more elaborate. The exam rooms were on the other side of the complex from the residential area. The summons had indicated the need for an immediate response, so she hurried across the large common room and entered the medical unit.
The sharp smell of antiseptics always accompanied the memories. Had the bastards at Nuevo Biotech thought they could scrub away their guilt? There were eight examination rooms and four surgical theaters. They preferred the old-fashioned term for an operating room because each theater was surrounded by a large observation gallery and participants from the other teams were encouraged to watch the procedures.
“That one is crafty as hell,” Dr. Jarrel warned as she prepared to enter a different exam room from the one Heather had beenassigned. “I don’t think you’ve interacted with him before, so be careful. He seems harmless on the surface, but trust me, he’s anything but.”
“I’ll be careful,” Heather said as she pushed open her door and stepped inside.
Patrick sat on one end of the treatment table, arms and legs securely restrained. A drape had been placed across his lap, but it was obvious he was naked. His long, leanly muscled body seemed to fill the limited space and tingling heat cascaded through Heather. Her heart pounded and she couldn’t force breath past the lump in her throat. All the hybrids were young and physically fit, so why was she reacting to this one?
He watched her silently as she approached, his vivid green eyes slightly narrowed. Overhead lights brought out the red in his rich mahogany hair and the corners of his mouth lifted into a sensual smile. “You’re a vast improvement over Levi,” the hybrid said. “Are you new?”
She ignored the question and looked for the laceration she was supposed to treat. The front of his body was undamaged, so she moved around behind him. His back was broad, tapering dramatically from wide shoulders to narrow hips. She licked her lips and swallowed awkwardly, her mouth suddenly dry.
“Do you speak English?” A hint of playfulness deepened his tone as he waited for her to begin. “Parles-tu français?” He chuckled then added, “My Spanish is even worse than my French.”
An eight-inch gash parted the flesh just below his right scapula. The cut was deep, the edges smooth, as if the wound had been created by something extremely sharp. “How did this happen?” she asked. The only questions she was allowed to ask were thosepertaining to the patient’s injury or illness. Everything else was off limits.
“Jarrel was halfway through the biopsy when she suddenly needed to be somewhere else,” he explained.
Heather nodded then realized he couldn’t see her. “How long ago was this? Is the local anesthetic still working?”
“As of right now, my back is still numb.” He turned his head, but the restraints kept him from pivoting far enough to see her. “What’s your name?”
“Call me whatever you like,” she said softly as she reached for the tissue regeneration unit. The handheld device would stimulate healing on a cellular level and close the laceration within minutes. “You’re my patient, not my friend.” The reminder was more for herself than for him.
“I’m not a patient. I’m a slave.” He paused as the bitterness in his tone resonated. “But I’ll call you Angel because you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a very long time.”
Heather tensed but didn’t object. She couldn’t allow herself to be drawn in by his easy charm. He’d been a dangerous criminal before the transformation. Now he was predatory and aggressive, more animal than man.
That fact had never been more apparent than it was as Heather looked at her captor now. He towered over her, gaze narrowed yet gleaming, jaw clenched, lips pressed into a grim line.
“What are you going to do with me?” She instinctively lowered her gaze as she waited for him to reply.
“I could kill you right now and no one would blame me,” he pointed out.
“I know,” she admitted. Regret and frustration swelled within her fear. She was guilty of many things. Her selfish inaction had prolonged his pain. But she had never been intentionally cruel to him, had never harmed or abused him. “I’m still alive, so you must have something else in mind.”
His gaze swept over her naked body. She could feel the intensity like a physical touch. Her skin heated and her nipples tightened as if trying to draw his attention. Jesus. Was she really that desperate for sex?
“You never attempted to take my life,” he stated, “so I have no right to yours.”
She dared a glance at him. Was there mercy in him after all?
His next statement extinguished the spark of hope. “You took my freedom, my dignity, and my right to refuse. You shoved needles in my arms when I told you not to. You forced a tube down my throat when I refused to eat. You tended my cuts and scrapes, my broken bones and torn ligaments. You aided and abetted my tormentors by keeping me alive. For that, I will never forgive you.”
Her eyes stung, tears gathering behind her lashes. She didn’t argue, didn’t attempt to defend herself. She wasn’t responsible for his captivity or his transformation. He’d been a slave to Nuevo for years when she arrived at the off-world outpost. Still, there was truth in his accusations. She’d done her job, followed orders, even when the patients objected to her actions. She gazed straight ahead and waited for him to explain what he intended to do.
“You’ll be subjected to the same treatment I endured back on Earth. You’ll be a captive, humiliated and punished when yourefuse any order you are given. You no longer have control over your body. You will be disciplined, and you will be used. Do you understand me?”
A harsh sob escaped as she whispered, “Yes, Master.” She wasn’t surprised by his cruel statement. Everything on Rydaria revolved around sex. Females only had one form of currency. Their bodies, and this bill was long overdue.
“If you do as you’re told without argument, I’ll allow you creature comforts. Food, blankets, access to the bathroom, can all be purchased with cooperation. Do you understand the rules?”
