Surrender My Love (35 page)

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Authors: Lisa Eugene

BOOK: Surrender My Love
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“I have a lot of demands, Chloe. A lot of responsibility. Sometimes it becomes…overwhelming.
More so in the past few months. I think my problem is just a physical manifestation of my stress.”

She chewed on her lip, her frown deepening.
He was so sexually robust that she found it hard to believe he’d have any issues. She could understand the pressures of a cardiac surgeon and having many lives in his hands and families depending on him. It was a job that allowed no room for error. She wondered, though, if his stress had anything to do with his parents. And here she was, adding more to his plate!

Guilt started to pour into her belly. He must have se
en her expression because he locked their gazes and smiled.

“Listen, I don’t feel
it with you. I enjoy being with you. No internal stress.” He chuckled at her incredulous expression. “It’s strange, I know, considering everything going on. But, you fix me. You release the tremendous pressure and make it tolerable. It…it’s like my lungs are starving and you’re my next deep breath.” Brad gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Oh, God! If Larry could hear me now!”

Chloe couldn’t get air around the lump of emotion that had blocked her throat. She b
linked hard and tried not to give into the tears pressing her lids. Her feelings for Brad overwhelmed her, frightened her, and his confession was wondrously freeing.

Could it be possible that he had feelings for her?
Repulsive Chloe Bennett?

The night at the club when they’d had sex in the alley
, she’d wanted to be anyone else
but
Chloe Bennett. She’d been tired of being the selfless goodie-two shoes who always gave and never took, who always loved with it never returned.

Was it possible that Brad had real feelings for her
? Did she dare hope? Could she trust again? Her heart squeezed out so much affection for him that it became a potent drug in her veins, an overdose of emotion that released the tears that wet her lashes and trickled down her cheeks. But her fear was a tangible thing.

What if he hurts me? What if he breaks my heart? What if he suddenly decides I’m not good enough? I can’t compete with those other women. I won’t.

Brad swore roughly and wiped away her tears.
His lips pressed softly against her lids, then he brushed them lightly over her lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all sappy.” He shot her a lop-sided grin.

She
inhaled a deeply. “I just have one question.”

“What’s that?”

“When do you untie me so I can get my hands all over you?”

His
grin widened and he regarded her thoughtfully. “Mmmm, I was thinking we’d try that again with my clothes off this time. I kinda like you tied up, though.”

She
pouted her bottom lip, and he leaned in close and suckled it, then he captured her mouth and they shared a leisurely kiss, his tongue slow and masterful. He groaned and pulled away with a visible shiver.

“Okay, but the only reason I’m releasing your hands is just so you can undress me.
What do you think of that?”


Amen,” she agreed with a smile.

 

 

Chloe slept better than she had in days, sheltered, safe,
and marvelously content folded into Brad’s strong arms. After he’d freed her and she’d slowly undressed him, they’d made love again. This time with such deliberate tenderness that Chloe lost herself to the endless rapture. She clung to his wide, naked shoulders, sweaty and trembling, riding the waves of ecstasy time and time again, and marveling that this man could give her such a soul-deep fulfillment.

It was
far into the night when she fell into a deep slumber, her cheek mashed against the solid muscle of his chest, his arms laced protectively around her, and his fingers doing a slow dance through her hair.

She felt gui
lty when, just a few hours later, Brad’s lips found hers and he tossed his long legs off the bed. It was time for him to go to work. He explained that he could move his OR case later, but thought it best to keep to his ordinary routine. He didn’t want to rouse any suspicions, especially with the heavy presence of the police at the hospital. The fact that she was staying with him had to remain a secret, of course. Chloe agreed. The last thing she wanted was for Brad to end up in jail for abetting her.

He
slipped into the shower and she was left in a tangle of sheets. She was staring at the floor, deep in thought, when her gaze landed on her overturned backpack. It’d been knocked off the bed during their mischief last night. The contents had spilled and her notebook, clothes and neglected bills had scattered all over his expensive rug. A plain white envelope with her name drew her attention and she sat up in bed, frowning. She couldn’t remember ever seeing it. Snatching it from the carpet, she opened it, her chest pounding when she unfolded the page and read the boldly scribbled note.

 

I NEED TO TALK TO YOU. MEET ME AT SILO ON TUESDAY NIGHT. 6PM. BACK ALLEY. COME ALONE. NIGEL

 

Chloe gasped, her palm flying to her mouth. She must have been carrying this note around for more than a week! It was mixed in with her mail. She’d stuffed the mail and bills at the bottom of her bag the day she’d planned to go stay with her mother, the day the police had shown up at her apartment—the day she’d seen Nigel outside her building! And that day had been almost two weeks ago. He must have put the note in her mailbox. Shit. He’d wanted to meet the following Tuesday, but by then she’d already been on the run.

Chloe wanted to weep. She’d missed her opportunity.
She’d had her friends out looking for him and, ironically, he’d come to her. But he’d seen her get taken away in a police car. Perhaps he’d realize that his note might be missed with all her turmoil. Today was Tuesday. A week after she’d been expected to meet him. She had to go. She had to take a chance that he’d show tonight…and she had to do it alone.

Just then the bathroom door open
ed and she heard Brad coming up behind her. She quickly stuffed the envelope under her pillow and turned to face him, trying to calm her excited heart. She had a split second of suspended breathing when she saw him, his image crashing into her anxiety and guilt. He had a towel draped around his narrow hips and his chest was bare. Her fingers itched to stroll over his broad, sculpted shoulders, defined pecs, and the hills and grooves of his tight abdominal muscles. He was such a beautiful man!

She
reflexively started to wonder what he was doing with her, to travel down a path of self-deprecation, then her gaze landed on his dazzling smile. The way he looked at her…his eyes absorbed her as if she was a precious jewel that awed and delighted him. No one had ever looked at her like that, as if the answers to all the questions in the universe were held in the depths of her eyes.

She blushed as he got closer, then moaned
long and low when his lips brushed softly against hers. His fingers combed through her thick hair, shaking out the tangles as he looked down at her. He was so close she could smell his clean scent and she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the intoxicating aroma of Brad.

“Wish I could stay,
Chlo. Unfortunately I have a late night of patients. Go back to sleep.” He grinned. “You didn’t get much.”

Guilt made itself comfortable in her chest and she could do nothing but nod. She hated keeping
Nigel’s note from him, but knew if she told him, he’d remind her of all the reasons she shouldn’t go. They’d get into a big fight. He’d probably tie her to the bed for good this time. She knew it could be a trap from Omega, but she had to go. Nigel could be the key to exonerating her. Maybe Brad wouldn’t have to negotiate with Mr. Fusso. He could keep all of his ownership in the company.

F
or some reason, her gut said Nigel meant her no harm. She settled back in bed, Brad sliding the sheets up to her neck. He bent and skated his lips across forehead.

“Stay put, Chloe.
Try not to worry. This will all work out. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

 

 

Brad walked out of his OR case filled with adrenaline
, as always. He wished he was done for the day and could go home to Chloe. He really liked the sound of that.

Before his case
he’d called Mr. Accardo, pretending to be irate over the police’s ineptitude in locating Chloe, and insisted on an update on the case. It seemed they had not yet identified what was in the syringe found in Chloe’s apartment. He was informed that the substance had to be sent to a special lab for testing. Brad had latched on to this information with some degree of hope. At least it wasn’t more potassium.

He understood
Chloe’s fear of being arrested, but the danger she faced was real and frightening. She was unreasonably autonomous and he knew that if he pushed her about turning herself in, she’d just take off again. At least now she was under his roof, where he knew she was safe and he could keep an eye on her. His thoughts rolled back to last night and the passion they’d shared. Fucking. Amazing. Brad shook his head. He felt so much for Chloe that his heart ached. The way she made him feel was uncanny. His body responded to hers like no other, and last night had been a close call…a
very
close call.

He continued up the hall, combing his fingers through his hair. He had not wa
nted to pull out—almost didn’t. It had taken a Herculean effort to leave the warm magic of her body.

He didn’t know why
, but on an elemental level he relished the thought of coming inside her, making a family with her. Never in his life had he ever felt those urges. But he’d never do that to her. Not without her consent. She had enough to deal with. The withdrawal method made for poor birth control, and at some point they’d have to discuss a more reliable solution.
Something long term.
More words he thought he’d never use with a woman.

He sighed.
Their priority was finding proof of her innocence, and if Mr. Fusso was the type of man he was known to be, he’d accept Brad’s offer. But Brad wasn’t as confident as he’d pretended about the offer. Most likely Mr. Fusso would ask for more, but whatever it was, it would be worth getting Chloe’s charges dropped.

The first thing Brad noticed when he walked into his
medical suite was the anxious look of alarm on Bea’s face. Her brown eyes were large, and she constantly ran a hand over her hair. It took a lot for Bea to get frazzled. He frowned, not able to read the signals on her face, but as he walked farther into the office and approached, the reason for her disquiet came into view.

Hovering not far from her desk was a tall
, gangly gentleman in a wrinkled, ill-fitting jacket. He had a day’s growth of patchy stubble on his bony jaw, and his thin hair was combed back on his scalp, under the influence of some oily substance. Upon seeing him, the gentleman approached with a wan smile and held up a badge.

Shit.

“Dr. Markson, correct?” Brad nodded calmly. “I’m Detective Sullivan. May I have a word, please?”

Brad’s gaze sidled to Bea
, who was sitting erect at her desk. She had a pile of paperwork in front of her, but he could tell that none of it had been touched.

“I would be happy to,
Detective,” Brad responded, managing a smile. “But I’ve just come out of the operating room and I have a full schedule of patients to see. Another time, perhaps? You can schedule it with my secretary.”

Detective Sullivan shot him a lazy smile. “Really, I promise this won’t take very long. I just have a few questions.”

The two stared at each other, somewhat at an impasse. Brad had a feeling the detective would linger in his office the entire day until he could have a word.

“Very well then.”
He gave Bea a long look and led Detective Sullivan into his office.

He
sat behind his desk opposite the detective and took several deep breaths. Steepling his fingers, he assumed his most austere expression and took command of his pulse rate. He had no idea why the detective would want to speak to him, but he was determined to remain calm. If there was one thing he was used to, it was being under pressure.

The detective bobbed his head
around the room and smiled. “Nice digs.”

Brad stared, not in the mood to trade trivialities. He i
mmediately didn’t care for the man and wanted him gone like yesterday. This was undoubtedly the same detective that had terrified Chloe.

“I understand you have a few questions?”

“As you know, we are still in the middle of an investigation.” The detective started, getting the hint. “We’ve not yet made an arrest.”

Brad nodded stoically, watching as the detective shifted and made himself comfortable in the leather chair.

“We expect to arrest Nurse Bennett any day now. Mr. Pancost has informed me that you’ve been filled in on specifics of the case.”

Brad nodded
again, wondering where the detective’s questions were leading.

Detective Sullivan speared him with an astute gaze, all semblance of friendliness gone.
“I was wondering, Dr. Markson, if you have any information that may help us locate Nurse Bennett?”

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