she now?”
“One of my new doctors—someone not connected to the project—is out at the farmhouse talking to her right now.”
“Are you insane?”
Silence met Flynn’s question.
“Get the unauthorized physician off the case immediately. Tell him you’re taking over. And while we’re on the subject, why the hell do you have someone not connected to the project working at the facility?”
“Ryan Donovan is an old student of mine. A brilliant researcher and clinician. He finally took me up on my offer to leave Boston and come help me with some of my research.”
“I don’t care if he’s the Albert Einstein of medical research. It’s too risky having him involved.”
“But Donovan has done some interesting research that dovetails perfectly with mine. There are no plans for him to be directly involved in the project. He’ll continue his research without any knowledge of what we’re doing.”
Flynn rubbed the side of his jaw, unable to quiet the rumblings of concern from shooting acid into his already aching stomach. “I don’t like this, Bloom. I don’t like it one bit. Get her back under lock and key, and then call me. I don’t plan on losing this window of opportunity because you can’t arrange for the proper amount of security.”
“I’ll get back to you in an hour or so. Everything is under control.”
Flynn snorted his disbelief. “If everything was under control she’d be in her room, and you’d be finishing up the final touches on her programming.” He slammed the phone down.
Less than a week to go before the test subject was scheduled to perform her duty and she’d taken off like a jackrabbit on speed.
Flynn sighed and got to his feet. Walking over to the window, he stared down at the river and clasped his hands behind his back. Things were starting to unravel.
Perhaps he needed to make a trip to Half Moon. To really check on his investment and see if there was still time to carry out his plans. After all, the decision to control the destiny of United States politics demanded one’s full and undivided attention.
Chapter Two
Tess lifted her fork and bit into the syrup-soaked pancake. Sweetness burst across her tongue, and she sat back to savor it. She hadn’t realized until that moment how truly hungry she was.
As she chewed, she tried hard to remember the last time she’d eaten. Nothing came. No memory of food or any other interesting tidbit about her life floated to the surface. What she felt was a total void.
She shifted slightly on the hardwood chair, thankful that Betty had found some clothes for her. Strange, but until the moment Betty had put an arm around her and ushered her into the tiny laundry room off the kitchen, Tess had no idea she was naked. It was if her mind had lost its ability to register anything about herself. As if she’d suddenly become this clean slate, aware of nothing.
The jeans Betty had given her were too big, and none of the belts Betty offered had fit her small waist. So, she’d been reduced to using a piece of clothesline to keep them from falling down around her knees.
The T-shirt, one with a logo of a giant combine and Mid-State Farm Equipment lettered across the pocket was long enough and boxy enough to serve as a dress. One side kept sliding down, baring one shoulder, and she had to keep hitching it up. But the clothes were soft, smelled freshly laundered and rested smooth as silk against her skin.
She took another bite and then glanced around, surprised to find everyone’s attention focused directly on her. Four pairs of eyes held the same questioning look, but Tess knew she didn’t have any of the answers.
Heck, she couldn’t even answer her own questions, and things didn’t get much scarier than that. She was totally lost. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember anything other than her first name.
And even then, she wasn’t sure that was her name. It was simply the one that had popped into her head when Donovan had asked her for a name. But that sure didn’t mean it was the right one. She’d realized fairly quickly that no amount of trying to force the memories was going to help.
Even now, as she tried to pull something—anything—out of the confusion swirling around in her brain, a stab of pain shot through the center of her head. The harder she tried, the more it hurt. It was as if someone had done a nasty root canal on her without the required Novocain.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Tess, are you all right?”
She recognized the voice immediately. Ryan Donovan. The handsome doctor’s voice. She cringed inwardly. She’d barely met him and already she was thinking of him in terms of looks.
But what bothered her even more was the fact that he seemed to hold some kind of power over her—at least his voice seemed to possess that kind of power. The sound of it soothed her jitteriness. She wasn’t sure why but it unsettled her.
She kept her eyes shut, determined not to respond to those deep raspy tones with the velvet undertone to it. Something told her that if she looked at him, she’d be giving in, submitting to him in some way. And as crazy as that sounded, Tess wasn’t about to let it happen.
But as soon as the thought flashed into her consciousness, she questioned it. Why in God’s name would she think that a doctor, a man who insisted he only wanted to help her, was out to hurt her? He was a healer, held to a higher oath. Dedicated to helping people. Wasn’t he?
Finally, Tess looked up, steeling herself to meet his gaze, and she immediately found herself drowning in a sea of Caribbean blue. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her focus. His eyes were so stunningly blue that she found it hard to breathe. Hard to look away. He smiled at her and she felt as though she might melt.
It wasn’t a particularly beautiful face. Rather, it was a tough face, one that was in direct contrast to the velvety tones of his hypnotic voice. A face shadowed with lines of fatigue beneath beautiful light-colored eyes. A face with interesting angles and deep grooves in lean cheeks. The grooves deepened with his smile, telling her that things hadn’t always been easy for Ryan Donovan.
He leaned forward, his muscular arms coming to rest on the table, and his broad shoulders shifted effortlessly beneath the somber-colored cloth of his suit. His movements were graceful for such a big man.
His hair was black, thick and meticulously styled. An expensive haircut. One that spoke of a man who took care of himself and liked looking good. But in spite of the precision cut, several strands had escaped and fanned out over his forehead, giving him a slightly unruly appearance. A few shots of gray highlighted the sides. Not much, but enough to make things interesting.
Tess wanted to respond to the smile but she didn’t. Couldn’t. She recognized Ryan Donovan for what he was—danger. Someone to be avoided. The sooner she got herself outside his range of charm and potent masculinity, the better off she’d be.
She broke eye contact and rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to concentrate, trying to understand why her mind was screaming for her to back off. To be cautious.
“Are you in pain, Tess?”
Apparently
