any questions, please call. My answering service can reach me at any time of the day or night.”
“Thank you for coming.” I waited for him to leave, then cautiously moved to the edge of the bed. I pushed myself upright. So far, so good. I eased to my feet. No spinning. I walked slowly, keeping a hand on the bed until I’d reached the end. No problems. I made it to the bathroom without falling, locked myself in, and cranked on the shower.
Ten minutes later, I was clean and feeling almost as good as new. As I pulled open the door, I tried to shove aside a troubling thought—that maybe Kameron had slipped me something for some reason. I hadn’t mentioned the possibility to the doctor partly because it didn’t make a lot of sense to me, and also because Kameron had hired him. Instead, I got myself cleaned up then, sitting on the edge of the bed, used my phone to do some checking on the Internet.
A listing of my symptoms landed me on a page about Rohypnol, also known as the date rape drug.
Dizziness.
Hot and cold sensation.
Nausea.
Difficulty moving.
Unconsciousness.
Memory loss.
Oh. My. God! I was drugged.
“You’re up.”
Who?
My heart leaped. My hands flew up. The phone sailed several feet through the air, hit the dresser, and landed with a thump on the carpeted floor.
I jerked around, looking over my shoulder.
Kameron.
“Are you all right?” he asked, hurrying to me.
“I’m fine.” I tried to produce a convincing smile.
His brows scrunched. “Hmmm.” Circling around the bed, he grabbed my phone and glanced at the screen before handing it to me.
I looked at it as my fingers curled around it. Thankfully, the impact had made it switch over to another screen. I was now on a web page about women’s health. “You startled me.”
“I see that.” He sat next to me on the bed. The mattress sank, making my weight shift toward him. Trying not to be obvious, I scooted over a little to avoid rolling up against him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m not dizzy anymore. But I’m still tired.”
“What did the doctor say?” he asked.
“He mentioned some kind of infection. Of the inner ear.”
“You’d better rest, then.”
“Yes.”
Actually, what I needed was to get to the hospital and have a blood test run. I needed to know for sure whether I had been drugged.
Who would drug me, besides Kameron? And who would have had the opportunity?
Nobody.
If I had been drugged, it would have had to be him.
But then again, if it was Kameron, why would he do that? Why?
Swinging from confused to angry and back to confused again, I tried to decide how to handle the situation. If Kameron had drugged me, he wouldn’t want me to have blood tests. He wouldn’t want me to know. No, I needed to get to the hospital on my own somehow.
But there was another question weighing on my mind. How long could the drug be detected in my body? Was it already too late?
Hiding my phone under the covers, I lay back down. “I’m really sleepy.”
“Okay.” He leaned over me, eyes searching mine. Was he trying to determine whether I knew the truth? Or was he as worried about me as he appeared to be?
If that wasn’t genuine concern I saw in his eyes, the man was one hell of an actor.
He angled down and rested his mouth against mine. It was a soft kiss that made me feel hot and cold at the same time.
Hot because my nerves were simmering.
Cold because I was scared too.
All this time, I’d assumed this man was trustworthy. Why? Why would I make such an assumption? Because he was rich? Because he was really, really good looking? Because he was more or less blackmailing me into being his sexual plaything? Weren’t those all reasons why I should have been wary?
He leaned back. “I have some more appointments this morning, won’t be back until later this afternoon. I’ll order you some lunch. What would you like?”
“Nothing too heavy, I guess. Thanks.”
“Okay.” He stood, stared at me some
“Thank you for coming.” I waited for him to leave, then cautiously moved to the edge of the bed. I pushed myself upright. So far, so good. I eased to my feet. No spinning. I walked slowly, keeping a hand on the bed until I’d reached the end. No problems. I made it to the bathroom without falling, locked myself in, and cranked on the shower.
Ten minutes later, I was clean and feeling almost as good as new. As I pulled open the door, I tried to shove aside a troubling thought—that maybe Kameron had slipped me something for some reason. I hadn’t mentioned the possibility to the doctor partly because it didn’t make a lot of sense to me, and also because Kameron had hired him. Instead, I got myself cleaned up then, sitting on the edge of the bed, used my phone to do some checking on the Internet.
A listing of my symptoms landed me on a page about Rohypnol, also known as the date rape drug.
Dizziness.
Hot and cold sensation.
Nausea.
Difficulty moving.
Unconsciousness.
Memory loss.
Oh. My. God! I was drugged.
“You’re up.”
Who?
My heart leaped. My hands flew up. The phone sailed several feet through the air, hit the dresser, and landed with a thump on the carpeted floor.
I jerked around, looking over my shoulder.
Kameron.
“Are you all right?” he asked, hurrying to me.
“I’m fine.” I tried to produce a convincing smile.
His brows scrunched. “Hmmm.” Circling around the bed, he grabbed my phone and glanced at the screen before handing it to me.
I looked at it as my fingers curled around it. Thankfully, the impact had made it switch over to another screen. I was now on a web page about women’s health. “You startled me.”
“I see that.” He sat next to me on the bed. The mattress sank, making my weight shift toward him. Trying not to be obvious, I scooted over a little to avoid rolling up against him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m not dizzy anymore. But I’m still tired.”
“What did the doctor say?” he asked.
“He mentioned some kind of infection. Of the inner ear.”
“You’d better rest, then.”
“Yes.”
Actually, what I needed was to get to the hospital and have a blood test run. I needed to know for sure whether I had been drugged.
Who would drug me, besides Kameron? And who would have had the opportunity?
Nobody.
If I had been drugged, it would have had to be him.
But then again, if it was Kameron, why would he do that? Why?
Swinging from confused to angry and back to confused again, I tried to decide how to handle the situation. If Kameron had drugged me, he wouldn’t want me to have blood tests. He wouldn’t want me to know. No, I needed to get to the hospital on my own somehow.
But there was another question weighing on my mind. How long could the drug be detected in my body? Was it already too late?
Hiding my phone under the covers, I lay back down. “I’m really sleepy.”
“Okay.” He leaned over me, eyes searching mine. Was he trying to determine whether I knew the truth? Or was he as worried about me as he appeared to be?
If that wasn’t genuine concern I saw in his eyes, the man was one hell of an actor.
He angled down and rested his mouth against mine. It was a soft kiss that made me feel hot and cold at the same time.
Hot because my nerves were simmering.
Cold because I was scared too.
All this time, I’d assumed this man was trustworthy. Why? Why would I make such an assumption? Because he was rich? Because he was really, really good looking? Because he was more or less blackmailing me into being his sexual plaything? Weren’t those all reasons why I should have been wary?
He leaned back. “I have some more appointments this morning, won’t be back until later this afternoon. I’ll order you some lunch. What would you like?”
“Nothing too heavy, I guess. Thanks.”
“Okay.” He stood, stared at me some
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