Vivian Arend - High Passion

Devon sat gingerly in the chair opposite his boss. “What’s really the concern?”

Marcus tapped his fingers on the desk. “I had to rake Lana over the coals today for stepping over the boundaries.”

Devon nodded. “She was out of line.”

Marcus’s gaze snapped up. “She said you’d encouraged her to try for the team. Full team, not desk work.”

“What?” Of all the stupid, idiotic . . . “Encouraged her, how?”

“Climbed with her, invited her to join in during social activities.” Marcus waved aside the rude noise Devon made. “I know, you were probably being friendly, but she’s taken it the wrong way.”

“She’s trouble.” Devon shook his head. “I gave the woman a ride home once. She showed up at the Rose and Crown, once. I buddied with her on the wall. Once. Right in front of Becki, I might add, and that was only to make sure no one else had to climb with her.”

“I figured that was the case, but damn, the woman is good. If Becki hadn’t given me a heads-up regarding her, I might have fallen for the wide-eyed innocent ploy Lana tossed at me.”

Devon picked at the arm of his chair. “I need to get Alisha home. I’ll be careful around Lana, but I hope you’ll seriously consider getting rid of her.”

“She’s on probation. I have to follow rules as an employer, but I’m not pleased, and I will cut her if she doesn’t smarten up fast.” Marcus looked him over once more. “You’re a valued member of this team, Devon. I like the maturity and confidence you bring. I don’t care that you’re young—you’re good. I want you to know that.”

Devon left the office warmer than he’d entered it. Pissed off at Lana, but thrilled by Marcus’s compliments.

Alisha was curled up on the couch, blankets piled high around her. The only things sticking out were her hands and her face peeking from under her hoodie. She wore fingerless gloves, her hands wrapped around her coffee mug.

The sight of her made something flip inside. Devon pushed away the urge to scoop her up and carry her to the car. To protect her and do for her. All the urges to take control and take over—too much like what Vincent had offered, but damn if he could stop some of the impulses from rising.

She smiled as he sat beside her. “Done?”

He nodded, taking the cup and placing it on the table. “We can go.”

She shrugged off the layers. “I can’t believe how tired I am.”

“It’s the cold on top of the long day,” he said. “Come on, we can crash and deal with the rest of it tomorrow.”

Alisha was sound asleep by the time he pulled into his parking space. He left the engine running with the heat blowing on high while he unloaded their bags. When he finally came and tugged her arm to wake her, she didn’t move.

Devon hesitated. Something was off. He reached in and took her pulse, his fingers warm against her cool skin.

Low heart rate—lower even than hers should be in sleep. “Alisha?” He stroked her cheek. “Wake up. You can curl up in bed and be much more comfortable.”

Nothing. No eye flicker, no complaint about being woken.

“Shit, Alisha, wake up.” Louder this time, plus he reached in and pinched her. When she didn’t respond to that stimulus, he swore and flipped into action. Jumped into the car and headed for the hospital emergency room.

He hauled out his phone and called Marcus. “I don’t know what’s up, but Alisha is out of it. As if she’s been drugged, or something.”

Marcus swore. “In the fifteen minutes since you left? Take her to the hospital.”

“I’m halfway there. Will you meet me?”

“On my way.”

Devon glanced to the side, hovering his hand over her mouth to allow the faint stroke of air escaping her lips to brush his skin and reassure him she was still breathing. “What the hell is going on?” he asked.

The answering silence nearly killed him, and he pressed his foot harder to the floor, racing to reach the hospital.

The smell of antiseptic wrinkled her nose. A warm hand touched her arm, and she rolled over to look into Devon’s noticeably tired blue eyes.

“Hey.” She leaned up on an elbow, and that was when she noticed she wasn’t in his bed, or her own. “Why am I in the hospital?”

Devon took a deep breath, sitting back in the chair resting beside her bed. He kept hold of her fingers. “You were drugged.”

Panic shot through her in a rush. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Don’t worry. You’re safe. They had you hooked to an IV for a bit to help flush your system, but pretty much sleeping it off was the best option.”

She still couldn’t believe it. She clung to his hand as she tried to make sense of his words. “Drugged? How did that happen? What kind of drug? When did I get it?”

“We’re still trying to find the answers to some of those questions. They’ve tested you, now they’re looking through things back at HQ. I told them you had a hot drink while you were waiting for me.” Devon dragged his hand through his hair, and even through her confusion and upset at waking in the hospital, she noticed again how tired he looked.

She also realized she had to get up. “Where’s the bathroom?”

That pulled a smile from him. “This way. I’ll escort you.”

She might have slept, but the mirror didn’t hide the evidence of her exhaustion—she should probably crawl back in and sleep for an entire week. Alisha stretched, finding her balance and strength returning even though she still felt as if she’d been hit by a truck. The low-grade nausea remained, the headache.

Devon waited for her outside the door, leaning on the wall as he looked around wearily, and she smiled sheepishly. “Don’t tell me you were here all night.”

He shrugged. “I was worried.”

He led her back to the curtained cubicle, her mind awash with curiosity at his comment. She waited to ask him anything, doing a physical check first. Trying to connect the information she could remember with where she currently was.

It still made no sense, but she couldn’t seem to panic. First because she was far too exhausted, and then because . . .

She glanced away from Devon before he read her mind and figured out how much it meant to her that he’d obviously been at her side all night long.

“You know what’s up? Who do I need to see to get released?”

Devon nodded. “I’ll go get the nurse. Marcus talked to the doctor last night. I think you get to go pretty quick.”

Alisha sat on the edge of the bed. “Marcus was here?”

“Tripp called as well. And Erin this morning.”

She was touched to hear that but didn’t quite know how to react. “I’m good to go as soon as possible.”

She was pretty much rubber-stamped out of the hospital, Marcus having done all the paperwork necessary. She was grateful for Devon’s arm as he guided her out. “Does Lifeline know I’m out of commission for a few days?”

“Marcus knows. He said with both you and Tripp knocked for a loop, he’s screening call-outs hard. He doesn’t want you to worry—if it’s not a three-man job, or something he can help with, he won’t accept it. Not to worry.”

“I’m too tired to argue.” Alisha leaned on the headrest, twisting to watch Devon as he eased the car out of the parking lot. The tension in his jaw was visible even from the side. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Some. In the chair.”

“Great. So comfy.”

He shifted his body, easing into a better position. “I’ll live. Once we’re home I’ll sleep for the next twenty-four hours.”

She wanted to ask more details about what was going on, but he’d already told her everything he knew. The police would come talk to her later—they were already going over Lifeline to figure out if there was anything there to explain what had happened.