narrowed as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I hoped you’d forget that.” She sighed. “But I suppose a deal's a deal. I hope I don’t regret this.”
His head swam. His body rejected the ‘this is a dream scenario.” He lay back and stared at her sewing kit sitting beside a whisky bottle. “Do you really plan on stitching me up with that stuff?”
Nodding, she handed him the bottle. “Drink this. It should help a little.”
After he took a swig, she yanked his pants down past his injury. This couldn’t be a dream. Because in his imagination, she would be taking his pants off for a far different reason. He shifted uncomfortably hoping the tenor of his thoughts didn’t manifest in his shorts. “You don't have to do this.” He cleared his throat, trying to rid it of that husky quality.
She smiled and her full lips separated to show a row of teeth. “Don’t worry. I'll leave your virtue intact, Ace. I just want to do what I can to help.”
She retrieved the bottle. “This will hurt, but I need you not to shout. I don’t have the strength to mind push any witnesses right now.”
“Mind push. Right. You still haven't started talking.”
She poured the whiskey into his leg wound. He belatedly remembered what she said about shouting, so he slapped his jaw shut and muttered a string of curses to make his marine buddies proud.
Concern etched on her face, she frowned. “I'm so sorry. I don’t know what Nisulin will do to you, but I'm hoping some of this alcohol will kill whatever's in there.”
Concrete thought escaped him for another moment. When his mind cleared, he ground out one word. “Talk.”
Chapter Five
Cassie focused on the task at hand and not the fact that her hands were within inches of Seth’s genitals. With a control she never tested before, she ignored the rush of heat spiking under her skin. The conflicting emotions confused her so she filed them away for later evaluation. Instead, she put her attention to the thin line of stiches, keeping her eyes on the expanse of muscled leg and not the intriguing bulge just inches away from her fingertips. Her mouth went dry as Seth’s leg shifted bringing his hips up.
Keep your eyes on the wound and not the rest of his body. Her nostrils flared at the new scent in the air. The scent of sandalwood filled the room. Cassie wondered if he was as aware of her as she was of him.
“You were there to get the scoop on Gentech and their plans with Symcore for biological weapons.” She drew in a breath, not sure how much she could really tell him without further endangering him. Though, it wasn’t like he would ever see her again after the morning. She had a plan, and it didn’t include getting him killed. “Well it's worse than you imagined. Peter’s making human weapons.”
Seth's chestnut brows drew down and she wasn’t sure if this was because of her words or the stiches. Again she tried to read him and again a headache bloomed between her eyes so she shut down the connection.
He raised an eyebrow. “Explain human weapons.”
Even after all that happened, he was still skeptical. “As a child, I had a congenital heart defect. The condition kept me from doing a lot. Everything actually. I was always sick. My father worked for years to improve my quality of life. And I had some improvement. I could go to school, even the occasional sleep-over. He died when I was sixteen, leaving me in the care of my older brother. Peter was a genetics wunderkind having graduated from Harvard with his PhD in genetic science and a medical degree from Columbia all before he was twenty-six. He worked for my father for years and was already poised to make some radical changes.”
She carefully tied off the knot of his stitches and inspected her work.
“When I came home from boarding school, things were different of course. I was so depressed I didn't know what to do with myself. Being near Peter helped a little, but nothing made up for the loss of my father.”
Ice licked her skin at the memory. “Two weeks before my seventeenth birthday, I had a major relapse. I spent the next two months in the hospital. That’s when Peter came to me with a solution.”
Seth flopped his head back against the pillows and studied her, all traces of sarcastic humor wiped from his face and