Chapter Five

Jolting awake, I sat bolt upright in bed and tried to clear the confusion from my mind. The last thing I remembered was being in the shower. Now I was in bed and without any memory of how I got there.

What about Beckett? Had he escaped? My stomach churned as I searched the dark room. The anxiety squeezing my throat and churning in my stomach eased the moment my eyes landed on him.

He sat in a stiff armchair in the corner of the room, his gaze locked with mine. Lifting the remote, he turned off the television show he'd been watching.

I wondered if I should be alarmed that he'd been watching true crime. Then again, he already knew how to hide a body. Wolves weren't known to be kind when their packs fought, and there was always a body count when the battle was over.

The sudden silence that descended on the room was far too loud.

"You didn't run." My voice shook.

"No. I didn't." His rich, deep voice calmed my anxiety and my pulse slowed. He stood and moved to sit at the foot of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

As the tightness in my chest eased, I was able to draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I'm safe and he's here. Everything is fine.

"You passed out." Beckett pointed out the obvious.

My cheeks stung, and I forced myself to take another deep breath, trying to stay relaxed and not cave to my rising panic. "I'm okay… I think."

I knew from past experience that I needed to wait a few minutes before I tried to stand, or I'd end up out cold and crumpled on the floor. Glancing at the carpet, I shuddered. A motel room floor wasn't exactly a hygienic place to take a nap.

Relaxing back against the headboard, I narrowed my eyes at him. "You got the handcuffs off, I see."

I was hoping to distract him from asking questions about my little episode in the shower.

"Carrying you and the shower curtain rod while being cuffed was awkward." Beckett leaned forward, picking the cuffs up off the table and spinning them around one of his fingers. "But I can wear them if it makes you more comfortable."

I tried to hide my smile as the mental image of him struggling with a shower rod and my deadweight flashed through my mind. My smile froze when I realized something else.

I was naked.

He'd not only seen but had also carried my butt-naked body. A hot flush traveled from my head to my toes, and I pulled the blanket up to my chin.

What must he think of me? I'd kidnapped him, aggressively petted the python in his pants, and then all but threw my naked arse into his arms.

At this point, the only thing I hadn't done was unbuckle his pants and plant myself on his lap to enjoy the ride of a lifetime. That mental image caused me to flush again, but this time, the heat surged directly between my thighs.

Abort! Abort! Alarms blared in my skull.

Getting turned on by him was not part of the plan. And Beckett was going to get the wrong idea about what I wanted from him if I didn't get my act together.

I snuck a peek toward the foot of the bed, hoping he hadn't noticed my inner meltdown. A soft glow illuminated Beckett's face as he glanced down at the phone in his lap.

My jaw dropped. No wonder he hadn't run. He'd probably contacted his pack, and they were on the way to the motel now.

"How long?" I asked, voice hoarse.

He glanced up, a single eyebrow raised. "Until?"

"I'm sure you've contacted your pack. How long until they get here?" I rubbed my eyes, trying to stave off the tears of frustration.

Everything was riding on Beckett's willingness to help me, and I'd messed it all up. Why couldn't I have waited until tomorrow to pass out? Oh yeah, because whether I liked it or not, I was dying.

"Take slow breaths, Lilou. I can't have you passing out again." Beckett's deep baritone cut through my panic, and he reached out a hand to squeeze my upper arm in reassurance. "I didn't contact anyone because I was busy searching the internet for directions on taking care of an unconscious kidnapper."

His sexy smirk had my breath hitching all over again.

After I regained control of my breathing, Beckett held up the phone. "What you're doing is admirable."

I found myself staring at an image of my face that had been published along with an article about my promising new research. He was getting close to a truth I didn't want to reveal, a truth I'd kept close to my chest for so long.

Shifting uncomfortably in the bed, I braced for the questions I knew were coming and wondered if I'd even be able to find my voice to give him answers. But to my surprise, Beckett didn't ask me anything.

Instead, he motioned toward the tiny table. "You need to eat."

Standing, he moved to open one of the Styrofoam cups of soup, placing a plastic spoon on the table beside it. Beckett dropped down into the opposite chair and waited for me to join him at the table.

I glanced down at the beige, scratchy sheet and blanket that covered me, trying to figure out what to do. He might not remember, but I certainly hadn't forgotten that I was wearing nothing but my birthday suit.

There was no way I was going to get up and prance around like I was wearing the emperor's new clothes. Gripping the sheet tighter, I scanned the room, searching for my clothes.

Beckett sighed and stood again. Crossing his arms, he grabbed the hem of his dark tee shirt. When he lifted the shirt up, I could've sworn the world around me began moving in slo-mo, just like a scene from some cheesy movie.

The material slid over his tight, powerful abs and chiseled chest, giving me a show I'd be replaying next time I was having some alone time with my gun.

Swallowing hard, I watched him pull the shirt over his head, all the while I was squeezing my thighs together. I knew Beckett was attractive, but how had I missed that he was the living embodiment of a thirst trap?

He looked like he belonged in one of those hot-guys-holding-adorable-animals calendars that raised money for rescues. I'd never wanted to be a small animal, or to be rescued more.

"Here, slip this on so you can come eat before you pass out again. It's big enough to cover you, so you don't need to feel uncomfortable—even if I've already seen everything." Beckett muttered the last part quietly, tossing his shirt into my lap.

I glanced at my bag sitting on the floor by the door. My change of clothes was in there, but just the thought of digging it out and dressing fully was exhausting. It had been too long since I'd eaten, so with trembling fingers, I picked up the shirt.

Beckett's earthy scent clung to the fabric that was still warm from his body heat. He smelled like the mountains covered in fog, the first heavy snow of winter, a forest of giant cedar trees and a field glittering with fireflies on a warm summer evening.

It made me think of the comfort of home, but also of adventures and places yet to be explored. Except I knew neither of those things were in my future. Not with Beckett… not with anyone.

Shoving aside the sadness battering at my heart, I pulled the shirt over my head, smiling a little at how it hung off my frame like a dress. To say he was bigger than me would be an understatement.

Beckett settled back into the chair, planting one elbow on the table and popping a bite of food into his mouth. All the while, his gaze never left me. There was an intensity to him, a smoldering hot attitude that made my knees tremble and my pulse flutter.

"Do you need help?" he asked in his low, husky voice.

I was at my quota for stupid things done in a single day. Knowing I needed to put some distance between us if I wanted to prevent myself from going over that limit, I slid to the edge of the bed and touched my feet to the scratchy carpet. I gingerly stood, not quite trusting my legs to carry me. After all, they'd betrayed me when I'd needed them most.

Well, my whole body had betrayed me, but that was nothing new. And things were only going to get worse from here. My health was failing, and there wasn't a magic potion that could reverse the process.

Rising from the bed, I carefully took my first tentative step, wobbling slightly. In a flash, he was by my side, not touching me, but his hands were out and ready to help me if needed.

"I'm okay," I tried to reassure him.

Clearly, he'd heard the lack of confidence in my voice too, because he stayed by my side without saying a word. My body flushed and my heart raced at his proximity. Why was he affecting me this much?

Probably because I hadn't been touched by someone other than a doctor in a long time. Yeah. That was the reason. It wasn't an attraction to Beckett, it was just because I'd been so deprived of interaction that having his full attention on me was wreaking havoc on my whole system.

I was grateful he wasn't asking questions I couldn't—or wouldn't—answer.

He watched me closely as I lowered myself into the chair. There was something guarded in his expression, a new tightness in his features that hadn't been there before, but I didn't understand why.

Beckett moved to sit on the opposite side of the little round table and picked up a sandwich. "So does that happen often?"

Needing time to think over my response, I opened my soup and inhaled the rich scent as I picked up my spoon. My stomach rumbled in anticipation, reminding me it had been far too long since I'd eaten. Dipping the spoon into the broth, I swirled the carrots, celery, noodles and chunks of chicken around the container like a snow globe.

"Most of what has happened today has been firsts. My first time kidnapping someone, my first time dumping my food into someone's lap, my first time wearing a guy's shirt." I forced a teasing smile to my lips.

Beckett snorted and gave me that look—the one that warned he wasn't in the mood to put up with any shenanigans.

"You know what I meant. How often do you pass out?" he clarified, giving me no wiggle room to back out of the question gracefully.

"I knew what you meant. It's just not something I like talking about," I admitted, then shrugged. "Maybe it's my all-coffee diet. Caffeine crash. Sometimes a girl has to nap, you know?"

His gaze was practically searing my skin. Needing something to do, I lifted a spoonful of soup to my lips. It had long since cooled off, but the taste and texture of the noodles soothed my queasy stomach. When he remained silent, I scooped up a carrot and swallowed another spoonful.

After a long pause, he sighed and polished off the last of his burger in a single bite. He crumpled the wrapper and tossed it in the small garbage can. Leaning back, he cleared his throat. "So, what's the plan?"

I took another bite, chewing thoughtfully before responding. "I could tell you, but…"

"You'd have to kill me," he finished, rolling his eyes.

I laughed and gave him a genuine smile. He didn't owe me anything and he could've left. But he was still here.

At this point, he was there because he wanted to be, not because I was forcing him to stay. Maybe he deserved answers. Besides, what was the harm in telling him the truth? But what if, once his curiosity was satisfied, he wanted to leave?

I'd have to knock him out, cuff him, and force him to stay. It wouldn't be easy, but he was the only person who could help me. I hated that I needed anyone, but some things couldn't be done on my own.

It was a tricky situation. One I still hadn't fully planned out because part of me hadn't believed I'd make it this far, and the other part had been completely delusional and had hoped things would've simply fallen into place for me.

"I'm taking you back to my lab." The words tumbled from my lips before I'd even decided to speak them.

"Are you planning to experiment on me?" he gasped in mock horror, but the sparkle in his eyes told me he wasn't the least bit afraid of me.

"Oh yes. I have a whole notebook full of plans." Leaning into the lie, I wiggled my eyebrows and flipped the spoon over in my mouth, sliding it from my mouth in a suggestive gesture.

His nostrils flared as his gaze dropped to the plastic spoon sliding between my lips and his eyes narrowed.

Butterflies tickled my stomach. I hadn't flirted with anyone since… I didn't even know when. He shifted slightly in his seat before going still.

I smiled. This is fun.