series of tiny, stinging shocks that pu

ic throb in her head. She was lying in a puddle next

outward through her limbs. Her skin felt hypersensitive,

that cut through the chemic

arms trembling. She used the slick, grimy brick wall of the al

rkness leading to the distant glow of city lights. The

Sound.

ping on the wet pavement. She burst out

ight, its presence silent and imposing. Its wind

her onl

ad, arms outstretched, a desperate, broken s

rough the quiet hum of the engine. The massi

nce. Through the rain-streaked, bulletproof glass

named Miles, was already reaching for the do

im with a single

pping against the cold glass. "Help me... please..." Her

dark hair plastered to her pale face. But her eyes, wi

bell. Garrison Morrow's quiet, ever-present fiancée. He'd seen her at a dozen charit

eekbones, the slight dilation of her pupils

been d

mp, and she slid down the side of the car,

mian's voice cut through the quiet

f warm air that smelled of expensive leather

overcoat, and draped it over her trembling shoulders. His mov

firm and secure. He was careful to avoi

curled against the solid warmth of his chest. Her

shed over her. It was overwhelming. She surrendered to it,

ntly on the plush le

penthouse," he said to Miles

e had never seen before. He nodded once and the Rolls-Royce pulled away from the cu

onscious woman beside him. He reached out and

skin. It was scorching

phone and dialed a

ow command. "Get your medical bag

on the other end spoke. Damian

have a patient for you," he said, his tone le

side him. He shifted, adjusting her position so she c