Wait for Me

Chapter Twelve

Kate was wrong when she assumed it was Simone’s wary gaze she’d have to avert. When she stepped into the living room of the suite, Mitch was leaning against a bar stool alone. His head came up when he saw her, his eyes as fiery as she’d ever seen them.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Lovely. This so wasn’t what she needed right now. Thankfully, the suits were gone and her parents were nowhere to be seen.

Kate held up her hands to stop him from going into the bedroom. “Mitch, let it go. I’ve already had to deal with one irate man today, I can’t take another.”

“He’s being an ass, isn’t he? We heard the press conference in the car on the way over, but it doesn’t give him the right to treat you like this.”

“I can handle Ryan. I’m not some wimpy girl. Where are your…my…our parents?”

“Simone took them in the other room so they didn’t have to listen to World War III.”

Kate’s eyes slid shut. Great. Just great. Their first impression of her would be her screaming at her husband.

“You did great today,” he said softly. “That’s part of the reason Ryan’s so pissed. You had those reporters eating out of the palm of your hand.”

She stifled a pathetic laugh. “Really? That’s not the impression Ryan gave me.”

The door opened behind her, and she sensed Ryan step into the room.

Mitch shot him a glare. “Are you done throwing your little temper tantrum?”

“Kiss my ass.”

Mitch took a step toward him. “I’d rather kick it. You’re being a complete jackass, and you know it.”

“You wanna take a swing at me?” Ryan huffed, throwing his arms out invitingly. “Go ahead. You aren’t the first Mathews’s to want to do that today.”

Kate pushed her way between the two. “Knock it off right now. You’re both idiots if you think this adolescent sparring’s going to help the situation at all. What is it about men that makes them think throwing a punch is going to make them feel better?”

Ryan’s gaze shot to her, and his face paled. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” Kate touched her lip. “Damn. It’s just a bloody nose.” She tilted her head back and took the tissues Mitch offered, pressing them against her face.

The door across the room opened. Ryan grasped her hand and pulled her back toward the bedroom. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up before you have to see them. Mitch, run interference…please?”

Mitch frowned but nodded and headed in the opposite direction.

Ryan propped Kate up on the long marble vanity in the suite’s master bathroom. He handed her fresh tissues while she pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the flow of blood.

“Don’t look so concerned,” she tried to joke. “It’s no big deal. I get them all the time.”

“You do?” He took the bloody tissues, grimaced, and handed her a fresh one.

“Yeah, usually when I’m stressed. I think this whole day classifies as stressful.”

Ryan rested his hands on the counter, one on each side of her thighs. “I’m sorry. I was out of line yelling at you before. I’m not mad at you. I’m just frustrated with this whole thing. And now to have the press swarming… It infuriates me. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Kate looked at him over the mound of tissues pressed to her face. “Did you mean it when you said this was all my fault?”

“No. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I have a temper.”

“Did you always?”

He pulled the tissues away and checked her nose. “No. I know you won’t believe this, but I was pretty even-keeled when we were married. I’m definitely not the same person I used to be.”

Her fingertips grazed his hand when he reached up with a washcloth to wipe the blood from her lip. “Neither am I, Ryan.”

His hand stilled, and his eyes locked on hers, eyes that seemed to be seeing a part of her no one else could touch. She felt herself being sucked back under, felt her heart thump rapidly, felt her skin tingle with that crazy need to be touched only by him.

This close, she could easily see why women were drawn to him. On the outside, he was hard and rough, seemingly untouchable. But underneath there was something soft and gentle struggling to break free. More than one woman had probably tried to crack through the icy exterior to free the passionate man underneath. Was it possible?

When he touched her, when she remembered how his mouth had claimed hers and his hands had stroked her body in almost frantic motions, she was almost sure it was possible. But when his eyes changed and he looked at her with that steely gaze he was so famous for, she wasn’t so convinced anymore. If there was softness in Ryan Harrison, it was hidden deep within. And she wasn’t sure anyone—especially her—would ever be able to reach it.

She broke the connection she knew he felt too, looked away.

He swiped the washcloth over her skin one last time. “I think you’re all better now.”

She started to move away from him, but he caught her chin and tipped her face up to his, stopping her. “I’m sorry about what I said but not about what happened after. I’ve been dying to touch you for the past two weeks. This wasn’t the best time or place, and that I regret, but not the rest of it.”

Determination lurked in his eyes. And behind that, a glint of gentleness, the softness she knew was there.

“Next time,” he said, “we won’t be interrupted.”

“Would that be a foregone conclusion?”

A smirk tugged at his mouth. A really sexy, mesmerizing smirk. God, he was handsome. Too handsome. She was toast if he ever turned the full force of that smile on her. “Absolutely.”

She eased off the counter. She had to find control. She wasn’t going to let him manipulate her. “I’m not one of your brainless bimbos, Ryan. Contrary to what happened here earlier, that’s not my style.”

He pulled her close before she could turn away. The fluidity of the movement took her by surprise, and she found her body molded tightly to his, knee to chest, every line and muscle and plane of his body flush against hers. She pressed her hands against his biceps, but it was his lips grazing her temple that stilled her and kept her from pushing back. “I’m not interested in brainless bimbos.”

The moment was so tender, and so unlike him, she wasn’t sure how to respond. She hesitated, tried to resist the pull. Lost when her heart contracted.

He didn’t try to kiss her, didn’t make any advances, just held her tight and rubbed his hand down her back like he needed this. Needed the contact, the connection. Needed her.

And, oh, man. That gentle caress did more than his mouth had done earlier in the bedroom.

Her eyes slid shut even as she fought back the desire rebuilding inside. Her skin tingled under his breath. Heat pooled in her belly. Want and need pulsed through her veins until she wasn’t sure which was which.

“You want to tell me about this little expedition you’re going on with Simone tonight?” he said into her hair.

“Who told you?”

“Mitch.”

She pursed her lips as she eased out of his arms, thankful he’d changed the subject and she’d gotten away before she’d done something stupid. Like pushed him to the ground and jumped his bones. “Figures.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Ryan, we haven’t exactly been on the best speaking terms.”

“Well, we are now. Is this really important to you?”

“Don’t you want to know what happened?”

“Yeah, of course I do. But not if it’s just going to add more complications we don’t need.”

She sighed. “I have to know. I lost five years of a life I didn’t know I had. Someone somewhere knows something.”

“Okay,” he said after several seconds. “I’ll go with you.”

“I don’t need you holding my hand.”

Irritation flashed in his eyes. “This changed my life too. I’m going with you.”

He wasn’t going to take over. She wouldn’t let him. But if he wanted to tag along, she wouldn’t stop him at this point. And he was right. He deserved answers as much as she did. She nodded. “Okay.”

Relief rippled over his features. Relief that surprised her. Had he thought she wouldn’t agree? From one minute to the next, she didn’t know how he was going to react. “Now that we have that out of the way, why don’t we go meet your parents?”

She glanced to the door. Winced when she realized what awaited her. The press was one thing. Her parents? She pressed a hand against her stomach as it rolled and tossed on a sea of worry. “Right now, I think I’d really rather slit my wrists.”

He reached for her hand, brought her wrist to his mouth and kissed her gently, right over her vein. “And scar these perfect wrists? Never.”

That wicked kiss brought every nerve ending to life in her body, all over again. And that connection she’d felt before with him flared hot and bright.

“C’mon.”

When he tugged on her hand, she faltered. “I…I thought you didn’t want to be involved in this?”

“When did I say that?”

“Yesterday, at Mitch’s house.”

“I think a lot’s happened between yesterday and today, wouldn’t you agree?”

Emotions flickered in his eyes. Emotions, she wasn’t sure she was ready for. He confused her. He frustrated her. He infuriated her. And then, in an instant, he dazzled her.

He was a complex puzzle that seemed to have no possible solution, and just when she thought she had him all figured out, he’d go and turn himself into something she totally didn’t expect. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to keep up with him.

It scared her. It aggravated her.

And dammit, it electrified her.

With no other choice, she followed him out into the living room and stood face-to-face with her parents.

“This is the dumbest idea ever.” Mitch rested his hands on the steering wheel of his Land Rover and surveyed the dimly lit parking lot.

Ryan looked up from the backseat. Early evening had settled over San Mateo. Street lights flickered and popped on. With any luck, Annie was already on the other side of the building by now.

Mitch was right. It was a dumb idea. They should have stayed with Annie’s parents and had dinner with the kids. As awkward as it was for Annie, it was safer than what they were doing now.

“All you have to do is drive the get-away car,” Simone said from the passenger seat. “Stop complaining.” She popped her door. Ryan followed from the backseat. “We’ll be back.”

“Next time, I get to be the spy,” Mitch called to their backs.

“How long do we have?” Ryan asked as they headed for the front doors of the nursing home. A security guard sat just inside. Video cameras monitored the parking lot.

“Visiting hours are over in thirty minutes. They’ll boot me out by then. Do you have the ID card Alice swiped this morning?”

He patted his pocked. “Got it.”

“I don’t want to bail anyone out of jail tonight,” she said under her breath.

He shot her a look. “You don’t think I’m stupid enough to get caught, do you?”

“I sure the hell hope not, Harrison.”

Simone plastered on her lawyer smile as they entered the lobby and approached the front desk. “We’re here to see Gillian Rogers. I’m a friend of the family.”

A large woman with gray hair was seated behind the reception desk. “Sign in. You’ve got about twenty-five minutes before visiting hours are up.”

Simone signed the log, handed Ryan the pen, and waited.

The receptionist slanted a disapproving glance over them. “I’ll need to see ID.” She checked her computer and waited while Ryan and Kate fished out their wallets. “Mrs. Rogers is in D wing, room 438.” She tapped a pencil against a photocopied map. “Here. Take that hallway, there.” She pointed toward a set of double doors.

“Thank you,” Simone said.

“Friendly,” Ryan muttered as they pushed the doors open.

When they were alone in the hallway, she glanced at her watch. “Don’t be late.”

“Got it. Have fun.”

“Yeah. Fun.” Simone frowned. “Gillian has Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t remember me. This’ll be a hoot.”

Ryan winked, then ducked into a janitor’s closet.

Institutional cleaners assailed his nostrils. He flipped on the pocket flashlight he’d brought with him and scanned the small room. Like Gillian’s daughter Alice had told Simone, a janitor’s uniform hung on a hook against the wall. He slipped it on, clipped the ID badge with his picture taped over the top to his shirt pocket, and wheeled the cart out into the hallway.

He made his way through the building at a slow pace, whistling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. A nurse passed, stopped, and glanced back. “You’re new. Where’s Jimmy?”

He swiveled and flashed a smile. “Sick. I’m fillin’ in.”

“There’s a spill in 218 that needs to be cleaned up.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on it.”

“I need you on it now. Come on.” She waggled a finger at him.

Shit. He didn’t have time for this right now. But it was either follow or raise suspicion, something they definitely didn’t need.

He whipped the cart around. 218? Where the hell was that? Ryan glanced down at the building map he’d laid out below bottles on the top of the cart. Dammit. Opposite side of the building from the records room.

The nurse pushed open a door. “Mr. Anders?”

A muffled grunt was the only response.

Ryan left the cart in the hallway. His nose puckered when he stepped into the room. Mother of God, he had not signed on for this. The old man’s bladder had all but exploded right on the floor.

“We’ll get this cleaned right up for you, Mr. Anders,” the nurse said. She nodded at Ryan to get moving.

Colorful language bubbled through his head, but he made his way back to the janitor’s cart and grabbed supplies he hoped would work. Twenty minutes later, he was once again pushing the cart through the long hallways. His skin itched, and he felt the need for a shower to wash off the stench of that room. And he definitely didn’t want to get old.

A woman was keying information into a computer when he made his way to the business offices. He lifted his ID badge. “I’m here to empty the waste baskets.”

She barely glanced at him. “Fine. Don’t be long. I need to lock up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He went around the room, performing the menial task. When he finished in the outer office, he moved to the record room.

The spring-loaded door snapped closed behind him. He quickened his pace to the window and popped it open.

Annie stood from her spot below the window where she’d been hiding. “What the hell took you so long?”

“Old man’s bladder exploded on the other side of the building,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I’ll explain later. We don’t have long.” He helped her through the window. “There’s a secretary out front itching to get home.”

She went straight to the file cabinet, jerked the top drawer open and pawed through records. “There’s no Alexander.”

“Check Harrison.”

She closed the top drawer and dropped to the next one.

Ryan emptied the trash. The metal blinds clinked as he ran a broom over them to disguise the sound of the file cabinet squeaking open and closed.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

He looked back. “Mathews?”

“Here it is,” she whispered. “So much for the records being destroyed in a fire.” She pulled the file out, flipped it open, scanned each page.

Her sharp intake of breath brought his attention around. “What?”

“Jake’s signature is all over in here.” She kept flipping, her face so pale he was tempted to make her sit down. “There’s a nurse’s name on a lot of these. Janet Kelly.”

“Got it.” He moved to another cabinet and looked for personnel files. “They’re not here.”

“Another office?”

“Probably,” he said, flipping through drawers.

“What’s Midazolam?”

Ryan glanced up. “It’s a benzodiazepine.”

“What’s that?”

“A drug used as a hypnotic sedative.”

Her gaze shot to him. “Sedative? Like for a coma?”

“Maybe. If it’s combined with a paralytic agent, yeah.”

Kate swallowed and glanced back at her chart. “Like Anectine?”

Oh, shit. “Yeah.”

“What about Tabofren?”

Ryan’s hand stopped moving through files. “Say that again.”

“Tabofren. It’s all over in my chart.”

“It’s a cancer drug.”

Annie looked up sharply. “I didn’t have cancer, did I?”

He shook his head, but worry rippled through his chest.

A hand pounded on the door. “Hey, are you done in there? I have to lock up.”

“Shit.” Annie ducked behind the desk.

Ryan pulled the door open. His adrenaline pumped, but he forced a smile. “Sure thing. Just gotta get new bags.” Whistling, he made his way back to the cart, found what he needed, and came back. With a frown, Annie waved him out from her space behind the desk.

He took his time, made sure the window was closed, then eased out of the room.

The secretary checked her watch. “Took you long enough.” She flipped off the light and ushered him out of the main office, then locked the door.

“Night,” he drawled.

She didn’t answer, just headed down the long hallway, the clicking of her heels the only sound echoing in the empty space.

Ryan pushed the cart into the nearest janitor’s closet and carefully made his way back to the business office. He knocked, glanced around, and waited. The door opened a crack, and he pushed his way through then locked it behind him.

Annie’s green eyes sparkled in the darkness. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

“This wasn’t my idea. Check that office. I’ll take this one.” They split up, each searching file cabinets and desk drawers. When Annie whispered from a nearby room, he closed the drawer he’d been searching and followed the sound of her voice.

“I found it,” she said. “Janet Kelly was let go almost a year ago. 794 Harbor Drive.”

“That’s on the waterfront.”

“I can’t find anything on Jake.”

Keys jangled in the outer office.

“Shit.” Ryan pushed her toward the window. “Go.” She yanked it open and slithered through. Ryan followed and did his best to pull the window closed behind them, then crouched down next to Annie in the bushes.

Light darted through the window, sweeping over the bushes. Ryan held his breath. When a giggle slipped from Annie’s lips, he slapped a hand over her mouth.

No sound echoed from inside the room, but the flashlight beam stayed on. After what seemed like an infinite amount of time, the light flipped off. Feet shuffled, a door opened and closed. Then silence stretched out behind them.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” Ryan whispered.

Annie pulled his fingers away from her mouth. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never seen you move so fast.”

“I can see the headlines in tomorrow’s paper. Pharmaceutical CEO arrested for breaking into Backwater Nursing Home.”

Annie giggled again. “Afraid you’ll tarnish your pretty-boy image?”

“It’s already been tarnished. And no. I’m afraid of going to jail and getting a cellmate named Bubba.” When she laughed, his heart bumped. “And I don’t want our kids left in Mitch’s incapable hands. Julia already has a smart mouth.”

“And she definitely doesn’t get the swearing from you, right?” Her eyes danced, and the dimple in her cheek shot his pulse up.

“Absolutely not.

She grinned. God, he’d missed that smile. The way her whole face lit up, the way it made her green eyes sparkle. The way it sent heat careening to his belly. He ached to kiss her. Ached to touch her. Ached to finish what they’d started earlier.

As soon as they got back and sorted through everything they’d just found, he planned to do exactly that.

He grasped her hand. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Light from the dashboard illuminated Simone’s face in the front passenger seat of Mitch’s SUV. She and Mitch were arguing about which turn would take them back to the freeway. They sounded like an old married couple.

Kate glanced at Ryan seated next to her in the back. He’d ditched the janitor’s uniform in the bushes outside the nursing home before they’d left. At the moment, he was studying her chart intently. Deep worry lines creased his forehead.

That couldn’t be good.

“You have the worst sense of direction,” Simone grumbled. “No, turn right at the next light.”

“We passed a McDonalds on the way in,” Mitch said. “I distinctly remember. It’s that way.” He pointed ahead.

“No, it’s not,” Simone tossed back. “It’s on the next street. Just turn.” She reached for the wheel.

“Damn, woman. Let me drive.” When she flashed him a look, he frowned, shook his head then made the turn where she’d pointed. The golden arches glowed bright down the street.

“See? Told you. Never argue with a woman about directions. Freeway entrance. There”

“Especially one who’s a lawyer,” Mitch grumbled. “I’ve got eyes, sweetheart, and I want points for remembering Mickey D’s. Speaking of which, I’m hungry.”

“I need to get to the office,” Ryan said.

“Why?” Kate asked. The way he kept staring at her chart and his lack of amusement at the show in the front seat set her nerves on edge.

“I need to look something up. Drop me off downtown and I’ll grab a cab home.”

“Bye-bye double cheeseburger.” Mitch sighed and drove past the fast-food restaurant. He pulled onto the freeway headed toward the city.

“Talk to me, Ryan,” Kate said. “What’s in there that’s got your attention?”

He flipped papers in his lap. “It looks like you were in a natural coma for quite some time. After Reed was born, though, you were given coma-inducing drugs. Almost as if you’d come out of it on your own, only someone didn’t want you to wake up.”

Kate’s stomach tightened. “What about the other drug?”

When he didn’t answer, she said, “Ryan. Tell me.”

His lips thinned. Then he finally said, “Tabofren was an AmCorp drug in stage one clinical trials five years ago.”

Simone whipped around in her seat. Mitch glanced in the rearview mirror.

“What?” Kate’s eyes widened.

“We pulled it because the FDA had some serious issues with side effects.”

Kate felt the blood draining from her face. Felt the walls closing in around her.

Ryan’s hand brushed hers on the seat. “Don’t freak out yet. Let me do some research.”

She nodded, though inside she didn’t know what to think. What to do for that matter. With shaky fingers, she rubbed the scar along the side of her head. Swallowed back the fear.

It didn’t work.

Mitch pulled up outside Ryan’s building. “Simone and I’ll go grab some take-out and meet you both back here.”

“You don’t have to,” Ryan said, easing out of the car. He grasped Kate’s hand and helped her out.

“Don’t argue, Ryan.” Simone reached through the window and squeezed Kate’s fingers. “We’ll be right back.”

Why did she have such a bad feeling about this? Kate ran a hand over her hair as she walked into the building with Ryan. Tingling fingers of dread coursed over her, much as they had the day she’d knelt on the floor in Jake’s office and unlocked the file cabinet that had changed life.

“Hey, John.” Ryan nodded at the security guard seated at the lobby desk.

“Mr. Harrison. You’re here late tonight.”

“Have a little work I need to do. My brother-in-law and a friend will be by later. Let them up when they come in.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Harrison. Looked good on the TV today,” he added with a lopsided grin.

“Thanks.” Ryan placed a hand at the small of Kate’s back and urged her toward the elevators. A hand that was warm and solid and sent tingles all along her lower back where he touched her.

She couldn’t deny she felt a connection to him. She just didn’t know what to do about it or how to deal with it when everything else was happening at the same time.

Ryan’s office was a huge expanse of dark wood and metallic chrome. A wall of windows looked out over the skyline of San Francisco. Lights glinted in the city below, and the Golden Gate Bridge lit up in the distance. A wet bar was positioned across the room; two couches and a few low tables scattered in front of it. Ryan’s massive desk sat on the other side of the room, a wall of bookshelves to the right.

Intimidation swept over Kate the moment she stepped into the room. Her scrawny office would fit in one small corner of this colossal space. The press conference flashed in her mind, and she remembered the steely look in his eyes when he’d dealt with the reporters. Ryan Harrison the business mogul was nothing like the tender man who’d held her so carefully after her nosebleed.

“Grab us something to drink, would you?”

Thankful for something to do, Kate wound to the wet bar. Ryan sat in the chair behind his desk and flipped on his computer. His fingers danced over the keys, his eyes intent on whatever he was looking for. His silence told her he wasn’t willing to share his concerns just yet.

Kate bit back the urge to hover over him. She busied herself pouring them each a drink, then took the glasses to his desk.

“Is there a bathroom around here?” she asked.

He nodded toward a door. “Through there.”

“Thanks.”

She spent as much time in the lavish corporate bathroom with its marble counter and huge shower as she could, splashing water over her face, trying to get a handle on her emotions. When she finally worked up the nerves to step back into Ryan’s office, she found him still sitting behind his desk. But this time, his head was cradled in his hands, his elbows propped on the surface in front of him. The computer screen blinked with images of Julia as the screensaver.

Tension seeped from his body, rushed across the space separating them and wrapped around Kate’s chest, sending her nerves into the out-of-this-world range. Trembling, she eased around his desk to stand next to him. “Ryan?”

Without looking up, he grasped her by the waist and pulled her in front of him. His knees pressed against her inner thighs, sending shivers across her skin. Then he leaned forward and rested his forehead against her abdomen as he drew in deep, ragged breaths.

Something was wrong. Whatever he’d found was so bad he couldn’t even look at her. She thought about walking away, just forgetting this whole mess. She could get on a plane and go back to Houston if she wanted, forget about Ryan Harrison and his daughter. That was probably the smartest idea all around.

But even as she thought it, she knew she wouldn’t leave. She was connected to him now whether she wanted to be or not. Not just because of Julia and Reed, but because of something else. Something that drew her to him even when she wanted to run. Something she didn’t understand but was desperate to see through.

She threaded shaking fingers through his hair, ran her hands down his neck to his shoulders, feeling the knot of stress bunched there. “Ryan, you’re scaring me.”

He didn’t answer. Just pressed warm, firm, solid fingers tighter against her hip bones, as if holding on for dear life.

“Talk to me,” she whispered.

His rugged features were laced with heartache when he looked up. And fear spread to panic when she saw the guilt seep into those mesmerizing blue eyes of his.

She drew in a sharp breath.

Without even asking, she knew somehow he was involved in whatever had happened to her.