as well
healed.
«Is this typical?» she asked. «This rate of recovery?»
«In the Brotherhood, yes.»
Oh, man. If she could study the manner in which his cells regenerated, she might be able to
unlock some of the secrets to the aging process in humans.
«Forget it.» His jaw set as he shifted his legs off the far side of the bed. «We're not going to be
used as lab rats for your kind. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to take a shower and have a
cigarette.» She opened her mouth and he cut her off. «We don't get cancer, so spare me the
lecture, okay?»
«You don't get cancer? Why? How does that-«
«Later. I need hot water and nicotine.»
She frowned. «I don't want you smoking around me.»
«Which is why I'm going to do it in the bathroom. There's an exhaust fan.»
As he stood up and the sheet fell from his body, she glanced away fast. A naked man was hardly
a new thing for her, but for some reason he struck her as different.
Well, duh. He was six feet, six inches tall and built like a brick shithouse.
As she headed back to her chair and sat down, she heard a shuffling noise, then a thud. She
looked up in alarm. The patient was so unsteady on his feet, he'd lost his balance and landed on
the wall.
«Do you need help?» Please say no. Please say-
«No.»
Thank you, God.
He palmed a lighter and what looked like a hand-rolled cigarette from the bedside table and
lurched across the room. From her vantage point in the corner she waited and watched, ready to
pull a fireman's hold on him if she needed to.
Yeah, and okay, maybe she watched him for a reason other than wanting to keep him from
getting a carpet burn all over that face of his: His back was amazing, the muscles heavy yet
elegant as they spanned his shoulders and feathered out from his spine. And his ass was…
Jane covered her eyes and didn't drop her hand until the door shut. After many years in medicine
and surgery, she was pretty clear on the «Thou Shalt Not Mack on Your Patients» part of the
Hippocratic oath.
Especially if the patient in question had kidnapped you. Christ. Was she really living this?
Moments later the toilet flushed, and she expected to hear the shower come on. When it didn't
she figured he was probably having a smoke first-
The door opened and the patient came out, waving like a buoy on the ocean. He grabbed onto the
bath's jamb with his gloved hand, his forearm straining.
«Fuck… I'm dizzy.»
Jane flipped into full doctor mode and rushed over, putting aside the fact that he was naked and
twice her size and that she'd eyed his ass like it was up for sale about two minutes ago. She
slipped an arm around his hard waist and tucked herself against his body, bracing her hip for the
onslaught. When he leaned on her his weight was tremendous, a load that she barely got over to
the bed.
As he stretched out with a curse, she reached across him for the sheets and caught an eyeful of
the scars between his legs. Given the way he'd healed up without a trace from her operation, she
wondered why those had stuck on his body.
He whipped the covers from her with a quick jerk of the duvet, and the comforter settled over
him in a cloud of black. Then he put his arm over his eyes, the thrust of his goateed chin all that
showed of his face.
He was ashamed.
In the quiet between them he was… ashamed.
«Would you like me to wash you?»
His breath stopped, and when he was silent for a long time, she expected to be refused. But then
his mouth barely moved. «You would do that?»
For a moment she almost replied in earnest. Except then she had the sense that would make his
awkwardness worse. «Yeah, well, what can I say, I'm going for sainthood. It's my new life goal.»
He smiled a little. «You remind me of Bu-my best friend.»
«You mean Red Sox?»
«Yeah, he's always got the comeback.»
«Did you know wit is a sign of intelligence?»
The patient dropped his arm. «I never doubted yours. Not for an instant.»
Jane had to catch her breath. There was such respect shining in his eyes, and all she could do as
she took it in was curse to herself. There was nothing more attractive to her than when a man
was into smart women.
Crap.
Stockholm. Stockholm. Stockholm-
«I would love a bath,» he said. Then he tacked on, «Please.»
Jane cleared her throat. «Okay. Right.»
She went through the medical supply duffels, found a large bedpan, and