of introductions to the nursing staff and other physicians, and a tour of the facilities.
One person Grace met was Captain Moe Scoles, also a doctor, the head of the Infectious Diseases Center. He was working on a computer inside a moderate-sized office beside a nurse’s station. Tall, with hair shorn nearly to his scalp, he gave Grace a rundown of the extra precautions taken here, where the illnesses were, of course, contagious—often highly so. Then he told Grace, “We’re all staffed up today, but we’ll assign you an office tomorrow and put you to work seeing patients.”
“Thanks, sir.” That meant she would have the afternoon to start something else she intended to do—all with the design of aiding in her real mission.
To get started, she needed to cut short her uncomfortable interlude with Simon. “Thanks for showing me around,” she told him once they were back in the corridor.
“You’re welcome.” His golden-brown eyes bored into hers. “It really is good to see you again, Grace.” He sounded surprised, the words apparently erupting from him without forethought. His wide lips immediately flattened as if he were trying to withdraw what he’d said.
She couldn’t help smiling at his sudden unease. “I’m as surprised about it as you are.” She kept her words intentionally ambiguous. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around. Don’t worry. I don’t bite.” Catching the slight widening of his eyes, she couldn’t help adding, “Do you?”
She hurried down the hall—but not before hearing a burst of laughter from behind her.
Okay, she had intended to goad him, Simon thought as he started to walk in the opposite direction to look in on a patient. But it had nevertheless struck him as humorous. This time.
But the reason they’d broken up was because Grace had tried hard to get him to admit he was a shapeshifter. She hadn’t been teasing about it—or so he’d believed.
She’d even hinted that she might be one too. For a while, he had hoped it was true, had interpreted her scent, her movements, as if she was. How great it would have been, if they’d had something so profound in common.
But after what his extended family had gone through before he went off to school … well, he wasn’t about to burst out with the truth, trust just anyone, even someone who’d gotten under his skin that way.
She hadn’t given up. Her insistence rubbed him wrong, and he’d just poked fun at her—supposedly—ridiculous claims.
And then she’d backed off. Good thing he hadn’t said anything—though he still wished he knew why she’d zeroed in on him. Was she related to that murderous group? He didn’t want to think so. But to protect himself and his family, he’d backed off too.
And in retrospect …?
Well, hell. After all this time, it didn’t matter. She was in the military, so he’d been right. She couldn’t be a shifter. Back then, something about him, something he’d said or done, had simply made her curious. Hopefully, now that she was older, wiser and a whole lot more distant from him, she’d lay off the subject.
Except, perhaps, to make jokes about it.
But he had to stay away from her. As far as possible, despite, or possibly because of, the way she still attracted him.
He didn’t want her, or anyone else, interfering with what he was here to accomplish.
At lunchtime, Simon headed toward the stairway to the medical center’s lobby floor, where the cafeteria was located beyond the auditorium. On his way, he heard children’s laughter from somewhere down the second-floor hallway. Curious, he veered in that direction.
And saw Grace in the large visitors’ lounge with a dog that looked mostly German shepherd. Three kids were there, too, dressed in hospital gowns. Half a dozen nurses also watched.
The dog, wearing a vest identifying it as a therapy dog, was sitting on its haunches, waving both paws in the air. That brought another peal of laughter from the children—two boys and a girl.
One boy—Sammy—was Simon’s patient. He’d had such a severe case of gastroenteritis that he’d had to be hospitalized. He had tested positive for norovirus, which was highly contagious, so the kid had been pretty much isolated until well on the mend. He was due to go home tomorrow.
Simon’s enhanced sense of smell had helped in his diagnosis, as always—as well as confirmation that Sammy was healing.
No problem now with him being with the other children—or being entertained by the German shepherd. It now had its head in Sammy’s lap, and the boy petted it gently while the other kids watched in envy.
Simon drew closer, leaning his shoulder against the wall and crossing his arms as he watched. Grace smiled angelically as she, too, regarded the scene. She was more relaxed than she’d seemed before with him. That somehow made her look sexier, too. He tried to hold back his smile as he continued to observe.
The dog next nuzzled the little girl’s hand as she sat in a metal-armed chair. The child squealed “Tilly!” in delight and leaped up toward the dog.
The dog—presumably Tilly—ran away, but when she turned back her head was down submissively, her tail wagging.
“Gently, honey.” Grace took the little girl’s hand, leading her to Tilly and showing her how to pet the dog.
Soon, Tilly slowly approached the remaining boy, who had apparently learned his lesson. He sat still until the dog nuzzled his hand, then stroked her head gently. When Tilly finally moved away, Grace gestured, and the dog stood up on her hind legs and danced in a circle—earning a treat.
Simon had little doubt that all three kids would heal a bit faster now, thanks to the minutes of pleasure Tilly gave them.
“Show’s over, gang,” Grace said. Everyone clapped—Simon included. She seemed to notice him then and aimed her smile at him.
He momentarily considered turning his grin into a scowl. Hadn’t he vowed to stay away from her?
Instead, he felt his smile widen.
As the nurses collected the children, he gave a fake salute to Grace and headed down the hall.
Grace had noticed Simon the moment he appeared in the corridor. She had sucked in her breath when he had stopped to watch Tilly do her performance with the kids.
Sure, she would continue to run into him. Would even seek him out, if necessary to her mission. But the past would remain the past.
So why had she felt so breathless at the sight of him? And so self-conscious, as if Tilly and she were both on display and needed to impress him.
She knew the answer. He was still so damned sexy that she couldn’t help being constantly aware of his appealing maleness. And remembering what he was like in bed …
That was in the past too, she chided herself. It wouldn’t happen again.
“Let’s go, Tilly.” She snapped on her dog’s leash. They weren’t yet through with the patient therapy she’d hoped to accomplish that day, before she took on treating patients tomorrow. For now, she was relying on Kristine to do the initial recon work—like learning all the ways to approach the biohazards storage area.
Later, Grace would commence her own recon. From Colonel Otis, she had learned the location of the laboratories where patient samples were taken for testing—samples that, if from the most harmful of communicable diseases, could be turned into potentially lethal biohazards. She would visit there later, when fewer people would be wandering the hospital’s halls.
For now, Grace headed for the hospital’s senior-care unit. Some colleagues who also worked with therapy dogs were much too depressed after visiting patients whose cognition was severely impaired by age-related diseases. Grace, though, found it stirring to see people whom she’d been told barely moved, or recognized anyone, perk up at seeing an energetic, caring animal like Tilly.
Grace