Naked Pursuit. Jill Monroe

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faces stared back at her, each one reflecting a different response: wildness, humor, recklessness and utter disorder. None of which she’d seen in previous test subjects.

      Under the watchful eye of the amazing Dr. Mitch Durant, the drug HB121 had been in clinical trials for nearly a year. Usually the test patients simply went to their bunks and quietly slept the night away. In the morning, Larissa would ask a few exit questions, take the subjects’ vitals and process the paperwork for payment. Easy-peasy.

      There had never, not one time, ever been a patient revolt. Until now.

      She manufactured a stern voice, a combination of the voices of her mother and that scary teacher she’d had in the second grade. “If you will all please return to the patient lounge, I can get you something to eat. I’m sure you’ll be getting very tired soon. I have assigned you each a room for you to rest in until morning. Why don’t you—”

      “Are you preventing us from leaving?” the pretty young brunette asked, subject number thirty-five.

      “This should make for a very interesting angle to my film,” test subject seventy-eight informed Larissa as he lifted his phone and aimed the camera lens in her direction. Ah yes, this volunteer was the California documentary filmmaker. “Please confess to the world how PharmaTest kidnaps patients and holds them here at the testing center in Dallas, Texas, against their will.”

      “Yeah,” the pretty brunette at his side cheered him on. Were they together now? Already?

      Larissa had distributed the testing dose to each of them less than an hour ago. How were people coupling up? They should be in deep REM by now, in that dreamless sleep of the fully medicated.

      But the filmmaker’s threat hung heavy in the air. A sudden wave of panic struck her in the stomach. Larissa was no social-media dummy. This video would go viral. In less than a second, her Twitter handle would spread from one tweet to the next, followed by the public shaming and embarrassing meme, finally culminating in job loss. If she was lucky.

      She plastered on a smile and lowered her arms. “Of course I’m not trying to kidnap you. I have some tea, or perhaps you’d prefer some flavored water? Let’s go to the lounge and you can choose. It’s all part of the compensation for your time. As well as the money you’re being paid as a volunteer test subject.”

      “You can keep the forty bucks,” offered the firefighter from Colorado.

      That man was delicious, all rugged and well-honed muscles. Not exactly her type, though. Larissa’s weakness was the smart-with-glasses, quiet, sciencey type, like Dr. Mitch Durant. He was the head researcher on this study and the reason she’d stuck around on a job for which the hours were from eight at night until seven in the morning, often screwing up her weekends.

      The med student—uh...Stella Holbrook—hooked her hand around the firefighter’s arm. Wait, was this another quickie pairing? Had Dr. Mitch tweaked with the formula again? Added some kind of hooking-up pheromone? Not that she blamed the woman for being intrigued with the firefighter, but c’mon, ladies and gents. This was an experimental drug test, not the club.

      Larissa couldn’t just let them leave, could she?

      Of course, the four of them were all adults. They could make their own choices. But more importantly, they’d all been required to sign waivers releasing PharmaTest from any liability. Larissa would never have distributed the meds without double-checking to make sure that important detail had been taken care of.

      But her dilemma wasn’t just the patients’ well-being. Dr. Durant’s research was important, not just to the man who’d put every bit of himself and his career into developing HB121, but also to the potential pain it would prevent for the hurt and wounded of the world, allowing doctors to give life-saving aid. How many times had Dr. Mitch gifted her with the smile that reached all the way to his dark eyes and told her how important she was to his team? Even now a tiny little thrill inched its way down her vertebrae at the memory. Larissa had to fix this situation for him. Now.

      Clearly the pacifying approach wasn’t working. The four looked like they’d rush her at any moment. And they’d win. At five foot two, she’d always been shorter than everyone else on the playground. She’d hated Red Rover.

      Maybe a play on their altruistic side would do the trick. “This research is important. All of you wanted to do something to further this study. To help people. By leaving now, you’re changing the sample. That will make the conclusions and results suspect.”

      “You said we should be sleeping, right?” the med student asked, a line forming between her brows.

      “The drug is designed so that the patient can answer questions if needed or even respond to stimuli and move if in danger, but yes, for the most part, the injured is unconscious.” Larissa nodded, a wave of relief allowing her to breathe again. She was getting through. Finally. At least to the med student. Maybe if Larissa could get her to understand, then the soon-to-be Dr. Holbrook would help to convince the others to stay until their portion of the study was completed in the morning.

      “Then, since we’re not asleep, we must be in the control group that got a placebo,” the future doc said, the line on her forehead gone and a smile on her lips.

      Subject thirty-five nodded. “I’ve done enough drug trials to know that’s true. I think we can go without changing the end results. You can keep my money, too.”

      “What if you’re not in the control group? Please listen to me. This medication is designed to take away fear and panic. Think about it. Are you acting rationally? You’d planned to stay the night as test subjects, and suddenly you want to leave...” Larissa let her words trail off so the significance of what she was saying would sink in with the four of them.

      “We’re leaving because this place blows.”

      “Big time.”

      “I’m ready to do something fun for a change.”

      Their words came at her fast and furious. She’d lost. Larissa’s shoulders slumped.

      In the future she’d probably end the retelling of this story with, “And that’s how I lost my job...”

      And how she lost the man she so, so wanted to see naked. Just once.

      But she could still protect him and his research. She owed Dr. Durant that. The kind of people who gave research grants tended to shy away from scandal, and Mitch needed the funding to continue with his work.

      “I’m going to ask you to sign something, stating you are leaving the study early and on your own. That you don’t hold me or PharmaTest liable and you don’t expect to be compensated for your time.”

      “Why?” the filmmaker asked.

      “Because, Mr. Garcia, one of the side effects is short-term memory loss. Usually for twenty-four hours. Still interested in leaving?”

      “Oh, we’re leaving,” Mr. Garcia said, and the others nodded.

       1

      STELLA RAN OUT into the night, Owen right beside her. Hayden and Tony were close on their heels. “I thought that lady was never going to let us leave,”

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