of the seat. Damien's accusation hung in

had drugged her and thrown her to the wolves. It would e

said, her voice firm. "I was at a party. I had

ouse Suite requires a special keycard, top-level clearance.

rom his jacket and t

e Beaumont, age twenty-two, student at Columbia University. And at the top, a news alert about

etitor, Starkweather Inc., has been trying to poach your lead scientists for months. So, tell me, d

or a honey-trap assassin. The ease with which he had unearthed her life story

shed the tablet back at him, her hand

too fast to track, he lunged across the small space, his hand c

e up into his merciless gray eyes. She could see the faint, s

desperate thought

e that night, the self-inflicted

icine, particularly the darker, more complex corners of the hum

es she had ever studied. Violent, paranoid, triggered by

.. her presence

t struggling, but holding his

im. The pressure on her t

s deepest secret. "The headaches, the nightmares. You wake up in a rage you can't contr

The hand at her throat recoi

raw, unguarded. It was his most protected secret, k

ation, "that on the night you were losing control, my presence calmed you down. An

m it, but he didn't deny it either. That night had been his

hing her dress, her voice now cool and clinical. "But the truth is, I

. It was the exact word he had used in his own mind

The violent tension evaporated, rep

losing his eyes, proc

derous intent was gone. In its pla

asked. It was the beg

back. "Why did you bring me here? Does

imply spoke to the driver through th

mooth, silent turn, heading

. Not yet. She had bought herself t

only to fall into another, one far deeper and mo