Rafe changed out of his suit quickly after leaving his guest pouring over take-out menus. She’d said it would take her a minute or two to figure out what she wanted. He didn’t know the severity of her dyslexia, but she’d told him she had dyslexic-specific fonts installed on her phone. She was googling the online versions of his menus now.

She had strategies to cope with the dyslexia and he admired how she made no secret about her conditions. It spoke of a confidence and understanding of herself that he definitely respected.

When he was finished, he grabbed the files he’d copied and carried them into his kitchen.

Where the redheaded she-devil waited.

---

The man looked damned good in those suits he always wore, but he was absolutely made for jeans. Jillian’s mouth wasn’t exactly watering for Sesame chicken at the moment.

Jillian forced herself to focus on the files in his hands. “What are those?”

“Doctored files. With Lacy’s signature on them. Several have Virat’s name. Some Lanning’s. And some Jacobson’s.”

“You’ll have to read them for me. Unless they are in a specific font designed for dyslexics, I don’t read print-outs without a transparency over.”

“Why?”

“A colored transparency can minimize distortion for dyslexics. And the new fonts that are intended for dyslexia are awesome. It makes it so much easier to handle information. And my tablet specifically has that font on it. Wanda makes sure I either get a digital file of every document I need from HR or memos or she prints it out for me in my font. I don’t have to write out anything and I have an app on my tablet that will read me whatever I need it to.”

“How old were you when you were diagnosed?”

“The official diagnosis came at nine, but we knew. And my mother was relentless at researching everything I would need. It wasn’t just the reading that was an issue. The dysgraphia is actually worse for me. I can read; it’s just very difficult to deal with all of those dancing letters on the page. It took me a long time to learn how to just write my name. My mother...she worked with me just as much as she worked with Brynna. She was determined we would succeed in school. And she fought the school itself a few times. They wanted to put both of us in Special Ed. Classes for high school, too, but my parents felt that wasn’t the right path to take for either of us. Thought it really helped us in elementary and middle school. My mother was instrumental in getting the program created at Baker St. High for students with dyslexia and dysgraphia. Autism was already being addressed, but my conditions weren’t. My mother changed all of that.”

“She sounds like she was a remarkable woman.”

“She was.” The best. Someone Jillian strived to be like as much as possible. Her mother would do anything for the ones she loved. Anything.

Rafe ordered the food, then spread out the paperwork on his counter.

Jillian just watched him. He looked good, with his castle surrounding him. It suited him. Large and gorgeous.

“So what do you want from me?” Her cheeks heated when his dark eyes turned intense. Something had changed in him that afternoon in Ari’s office. He no longer bothered to hide the attraction he obviously felt. And that, more than anything, unsettled her. “I meant the files.”

“I’m not really certain. A second opinion, possibly.”

“What do you think is happening?”

“Solpalmitraln. Every case that is questionable ties into that damned drug. And we’re missing massive quantities of it. If that hit the street, I’m not sure what the ramifications would be. I need to find out why. And how to fix this problem without losing the entire backing of Claireson Pharmaceuticals. Because that’s our biggest donor. If we cut them off during this trial then—”

“We could potentially lose a significant source of cash.” Jillian understood what he meant. And the repercussions of that. Hospitals weren’t often profitable.

“And the hospital is already operating in the red. Especially the surgical trauma department. And the entire ER. I was brought in to find out why. And how to fix it, before the entire place is sold to some major medical group that practices cookie cutter medicine, for those who are the higher paying patients. It would change the entire fabric of FCGH if that were to ever happen.”

Jillian knew she gawked at him. But she’d had no clue... “How bad is the outlook?”

“Bad. I either need to isolate where the problems are—or find better backers to make up the significant loss. FCGH used to be efficiently ran. I need to get it back that way. Quickly. It’s the entire reason I was brought in from outside. Otherwise Jacobson was going to be offered the position.”

“So why Solpalmitraln?”

“Because of two things. We’re seeing side effects that we shouldn’t. And we’re missing massive quantities of the liquid drug. The version used in intravenous administration to our most critical patients. I need to find it. And only physicians in the surgical trauma department can access it, along with sixteen other carefully monitored physicians.”

“So how many are we talking about?”

“Minus Lacy, since I know she’s in the clear for when the majority went missing, and Lanning for obvious reasons, twenty-two possible physicians, and nine auxiliary personnel.”

“Thirty-one possible answers.” She covered his hand on the first file. “And what do you need from me?”

“Everything you know about any of the people on my list. Rumors, personal observations, patient complaints. Anything that stands out.”

“Then let’s get started.”

---

The Chinese was delicious; she’d eaten from the restaurant many times. It was one of Lacy’s favorite places and she persuaded Jillian and Ari to eat there all the time.

Her friend had texted five minutes ago to see what Jillian was doing at the moment. All she’d sent back was that she was eating dinner—with Travis’ brother.

Lacy’s response had been a big fat, “Oh enjoy…and don’t forget to use a condom.”

Sometimes having friends was more embarrassing than she wanted to think about.

Attraction and the fact that she was alone with the last man to kiss the very brains out of her were pushed aside for the moment as they discussed the larger implications of what they were trying to find.

Jobs and lives depended on this man. Why hadn’t she realized that before? And why did she feel so much compassion for the burdens he had to carry? Jillian fought the urge to cuddle him and make him smile, just at her. And that was utter craziness.

Dear gravy, was she feeling tenderness, protectiveness, toward him?

Jillian was not ready to face that idea at all.

Instead of reaching for the man like her hormones were urging her, she reached for the stack of files. “Was Lanning abusing the liquid Solpalmitraln? Or just the pills?”

She shivered as she remembered how he’d looked in that moment before he’d killed himself and tried to take Lacy with him. The pain, the torture, in his eyes.

"What do people do it?" she asked after an hour or so. After they’d spent every minute they weren’t eating discussing the rumors and more salacious gossip about people she knew and respected. “Why do they think it's okay to hurt each other the way they do? We did nothing to anyone, yet Albright thought nothing of hurting all of us. How was anything that happened supposed to make sense? He was going to kill us all. All of us. Because of some stupid computer disk that was older than I was. There was one file on it—the rest of it contained Carrie’s baby pictures. Because of greed. He wanted what Marcus had. That's all there was to it. And Lanning? Is what happened with Lanning and Lacy tied to what happened with Albright? Maybe he got addicted to the drugs because of being shot that night. We’ll never know. Or maybe he started getting obsessed with Lacy that night in the parking garage. We just don't know. And I don't know… I don't know how much longer I can do this."

The last thought slipped out, finally coming out. She’d finally said what she had been feeling for months. And it was to him.

Jillian just sat and stared at him, the last egg roll still clutched in her hand.

"What you mean?" His words were soft, and the hand he put on her cheek warm. Jillian fought the sudden urge to just throw herself against him and hold on until the storms filling her just stopped.

All of it hit her right at once—Albright, Lanning, the loss of Sam just a few hours ago. And now this. Him. All of it. "I've thought about moving to St. Louis lately. Carrie’s up there. I have friends there, so it's not like I would be alone. Ari spends at least a week each month up there with Luc and Paige’s families. Syd starting to do nearly the same. It would be a fresh start. Someplace without all the memories. I could travel back and forth some."

He stiffened, and she knew he hated the very idea of it. “Is that really what you want?”

Did she? Jillian didn't know. All she knew was everything was so complicated here now. And a part of her just wanted to run and keep on running. She was so screwed up sometimes. “I don't know. I'm not going to lie. I've thought about it quite a bit lately. But is that just me wanting to run away like a coward?"

"I don't want you to go."

"Why? I'm nothing to you, after all."

“Nothing?” Before she even realized he'd moved, he had her. Those big, hot hands of his wrapped around her waist faster than she could blink. He lifted her, until she was pressed right against him. "Do you really think that ? I think it's pretty evident. You burn me, Jillian Beck. And it's been a long, long time since I've been able to say that about a woman. So no, I don't want you to leave. But I don't want you to stay, either. You've got me twisted up inside and I'm still trying to figure out how I want to deal with that. I know what I want—"

He dragged a thumb over her bottom lip. She stared into his dark eyes. The hunger was hard to miss. Heat pooled in her stomach. Hunger. She shivered. "Rafe… I… Oh, hell…"

They both knew what was about to happen.

She moved first, he moved first, she didn't really know. Jillian just pressed closer.