Perfect Specimen (12 page)

Clay stared. “What are you saying?”

“That bastard put a chip in her nose to control her,” Randy blurted, his eyes blazing with conviction. “To track her. Control her. And eavesdrop on her. Which means he can see every move we make, and hear every word we’re saying—”

“No.” Josh shook his head. “She’s out like a light. So if he’s using her senses, then he can’t
see
us. And I’m guessing he can’t hear us either.”

“But he can track her,” Mark murmured.

Randy nodded. “Clay? Give me the combination to the safe.”

“Try Brietta,” he murmured.

“Brietta? Why would
she
know Dad’s combination? She’s been in freaking Mexico for a year.”

Clay rallied enough to explain. “I mean, try her name. B-r-i-e-tt-a. Dad already went through all of our names, and he said he was going to use the cousins next, so . . .”

So wouldn’t he choose Brietta first? She was their father’s favorite—the daughter he’d never had. His dead brother’s only kid. And the most adventurous person in the Ryerson clan. Strong, gutsy, intelligent—

Just like Sara
.

Josh had cleared his instruments away, giving Clay a chance to return to the sofa. To gather Sara’s limp body into his arms. And to promise her, once and for all, he was going to save her. Not from herself this time—he’d been an arrogant fool to believe
that
was what she needed.

No, this time it would be different.

This time, he’d save her from Ga’rag.

Chapter 9

Sara knew she needed to wake up, but her relaxed body and numb mind refused to cooperate and she didn’t blame them. It was heaven, this blissful state. Why would anyone choose to abandon it?

Finally forcing herself to open her eyes, she scanned the unfamiliar room. White walls, white sheets, white drapes. The only splash of color was Clay Ryerson—the stranger from the sports bar—dressed in jeans and a red Stanford sweatshirt, dozing in an undersized recliner chair.

“Clay?”

“Hey.” His expression was instantly hopeful as he leaned forward and stroked her cheek. “How’re you feeling?”

She licked her parched lips, trying to piece together what had been happening. “You had me committed?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. You’ve been asleep. From the sedatives. And the painkillers. But things are good. Great even. You know why?”

She winced at the gleam of excitement in his green eyes. “Tell me.”

“Because I finally listened to you. About the chip. And then my brother Josh
found
it. And removed it. And now everything’s going to be good. I promise.”

Sara struggled to make sense of his words. “The chip?”

“It was in your sinus. He found it and removed it. And now you’re fine.”

“There really was a chip?” To her dismay, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m not crazy?”

“Damn.” He slipped his arms around her and pulled her into a gentle embrace. “I’m so sorry, Sara. I can’t believe we put you through this—”

“
You
didn’t do it. Ga’rag did.” She choked back a sob, then scanned the room again, half expecting to see the alien overlord looming over them.

“I know what you’re thinking, Sara,” Clay told her. “You’re wondering if he can see us. Hear us. But he can’t. For the first time since you were a kid, you’re free of him. I promise.”

Reaching toward the tray table beside him, he retrieved two photographs and handed them to her. The first showed a tiny luminescent speck in a sea of inflamed tissue. The second was the same speck floating in a jar of clear liquid. “This is the chip. It’s how that asshole always found you. Hurt you. Made you see things that weren’t there. But not now. Not ever again.”

Her fingers went instinctively to her bandaged nose, which was only slightly sensitive to her touch. Pressing lightly, she marveled at the thought that the pain was really gone, at least for the moment. Ga’rag would eventually imbed a new one, of course. But for now, Clay was right. She was free, at least in this one, amazing sense.

“The fourth brother. Or should I say the fourth hero? His name’s Josh? I like that.”

Clay cupped her chin in his warm hand. “You don’t have to do that anymore, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Flirt with us. Con us. It’s not necessary anymore. We finally get it. I promise.”

He must have seen the doubt in her eyes, because he continued briskly. “You’re thinking about your daughters? We’ve been thinking about them too, honey. We even consulted a geneticist—an Earth one, not Ra-ahlian. Her name is Elena Maketa and she’s pretty famous. We obviously didn’t tell her the truth. We went with the delusion story instead for obvious reasons. Anyway, she confirmed what Randy’s been spouting for the last twenty-four hours. It wouldn’t be efficient to create half-human, half-alien babies and transport them across the galaxy. If these assholes have really perfected cloning—and obviously they have—they just need tissue samples. Not babies. Not even eggs. And they don’t need to take
you
with them either. Ga’rag just told you that to control you.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she murmured, trying to sound optimistic. “Where’s the chip? I’d like to see it. Is it in this hospital?”

“Nope. Josh did the procedure at his ER, but we figured Ga’rag tracked the chip, so once it was out, we moved you here. The thing is almost too small to see, Sara. And we need to keep a safe distance between you and it, at least for a while. You get that, right?”

“Where is here?”

“Huh?”

“What hospital is this?”

She saw the hesitation in his eyes, and knew why he didn’t want to tell her. He was concerned she’d find some way to communicate the information to Ga’rag. Concerned she still thought there were children at risk. Wasn’t that why there was no phone in this room? And no sign of her purse, which contained her cell?

Smart man
. . .

“We’re just a few hours outside the city,” Clay told her with a warm smile. “I know it’s a lot to take in, Sara. Give it time. Dr. Maketa will stop by later to answer all your questions. Until then, try to get a little more sleep. And try not to worry.”

She held up her bare wrists. “No IVs. That’s good, at least.”

“That’s because you’re not sick. Your face is a little bruised, but Josh did the whole procedure with fiber optics and tiny snippers, so there’s no external incision.”

“When do I meet him?” she asked, then she interrupted herself. “What about
Mark
? I hope he’s not too upset.”

“He’s taking it pretty hard,” Clay admitted. “Like he personally let you down.”

“Oh, no . . .” She bit her lip, touched by the thought. “This was harder on him than anyone, you know. Randy had the whole Trekkie aspect to help him through it. And you had your infatuation with me. But Mark just wanted to protect his family and still do right by a crazy stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger. You’re part of our family now, like it or not.” Clay’s green eyes rebuked her. “And it’s
not
infatuation. It never was. I understand why
you
couldn’t give into it. You were worried about three helpless babies on a spaceship. But for me, it’s been something special—something great—right from the start. And now—” He flashed a hopeful smile. “I want it to be special for you too. So get ready to be seduced. As soon as you’re up to it, obviously.”

“Can I use the bathroom first?”

He grinned and offered her his hand. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

“I can make it.”

“I need to come with you. Just in case.”

Sara eyed him coolly. “In case what?”

“In case Ga’rag comes looking for you. Or . . .” He hesitated, then acknowledged quietly, “In case you try to run off and find him.”

Frustrated, she stared into his eyes, so deep green, so ablaze with sexy dedication. “So I’m a prisoner?”

“No.” He pulled her to her feet and against his chest. “You’re still a little loopy from the drugs, so I want to keep an eye on you. But once you’ve gotten some rest, and talked to the geneticist, if you still think Ga’rag has your babies, I’ll help you get them back. I promise.”

She lowered her gaze to the ground, confused by this new side of him. He was still determined to save her, but now he was trying to do it on
her
terms, not his own.

Unfortunately, it didn’t matter. Saving her meant losing the babies. She couldn’t expect him to grasp that. In fact, it was better if he didn’t. At least not until it was too late.

Mark Ryerson had suspected her of being schizophrenic, and she was beginning to think so too, although for different reasons. Her brain felt torn in two. One half wanted her to grab on to Clay and never let go. The other half—the one that mattered—compelled her by a mixture of maternal instinct, guilt, and fear to put all other feelings aside and concentrate on the love she felt for the babies.

Assuming that the babies were still in orbit around Earth, and not on their way to Ra-ahl.

Trying not to let Clay sense her fears, she let him lead her to the bathroom, where he made good on his promise to stick close, turning his back to give her privacy while still standing within inches of her.

When she had finished with the toilet, she moved to the sink, where she was instantly mesmerized by her reflection. She looked so mussed. So unkempt. And not just because of the purplish bruises across her nose and around her left eye socket. Her hair . . . the lack of makeup . . . the tacky hospital gown with its faded blue flowers . . .

What would Ga’rag think?

Clay appeared behind her, his expression confidently reflected in the mirror. “Sorry about the bruises, Sara. It couldn’t be helped. And Josh says there’s no permanent damage. Plus . . .” His smile warmed. “You’re so beautiful, even when you’re a mess.”

She turned and smiled at him. “Like I said, you’re infatuated. And I love it. Have I said thank you yet? To all of the Ryerson brothers, obviously, but most of all to you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry I said you never listen to me. It’s not true. You listened and you believed. And I love you for it.”

Clay’s eyes widened, then he sandwiched her face between his hands. “You don’t have to say that—”

“I want to.” She brushed a tear from her eye, then laughed at herself. “I love you, Clay Ryerson. I didn’t want to, and it’s kind of crazy, but I do.”

“Damn.” He bent his head down and kissed her lips. “We’ll get through this, Sara. Together.”

“I know we will,” she lied. Then she touched his cheek. “Sorry to ruin this magical moment, but I’m a little woozy.”

Clay chuckled. “That’s okay. I can only handle so much magic at one time anyway.” He hesitated, then added carefully, “But just for the record, you know I love you too. Right?”

She licked her lips then nodded.

Clay cleared his throat. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

* * * *

“This is so silly,” she murmured as he tucked her under the covers. “What would you do if Ga’rag really showed up? I mean, I know he’s probably gone, but what if he isn’t?”

Clay pulled back his sweatshirt to reveal a pistol tucked in the waistband of his jeans. “I’m armed and dangerous. If he’s watching us, he knows that.”

She stared in horror. “If you kill him, the babies will starve to death, all alone on the spaceship. We’d
never
figure out how to get them.”

“We’d find a way,” he replied evenly, but it was too late. She had seen the flash of disappointment in his eyes. Apparently he had believed it was really over.

But it wasn’t. Not yet. Not quite.

Still, like any good hero, he was persistent. “Ga’rag doesn’t know you’re here. So he won’t show up. Don’t worry about that.”

Sara forced herself to smile. “You never did tell me the name of this hospital.”

He hesitated, but only for a second. “Foothills Memorial. Third floor. Room 306.”

“Wow.” She draped her arms around his neck. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“I figure it has to be mutual. From now on, we’re a team, right?” He brushed his lips across hers. “We’ll make our decisions together. If you don’t like how I’m handling something, just let me know. And I meant what I said. If you’re not convinced after you talk to Dr. Maketa, we’ll brainstorm what to do next.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said, pretending to stifle a yawn.

“You need to sleep.”

“But you’ll be here when I wake up?”

Clay nodded. Then he kissed her again, this time with a hint of passion, and she wanted to surrender to him—to have one final bout of lovemaking—but there wasn’t time. She needed to get rid of him, not draw him in deeper.

A knock at the door resolved the issue.

“That must be
your
geneticist. Mine doesn’t knock,” Sara said, teasing him gently. Before Clay could object, she called out cheerfully, “Come in!”

But it wasn’t a strange doctor who peeked her head into the room. It was Lizzie Canton.

Sara could barely stop herself from cheering out loud. Another misguided ally, but this time, one who could definitely be manipulated.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Kent,” the girl said in an innocent tone. “But I just had to meet you. Randy told us so much about your—well, your ordeal.”

I just had to meet you? Smart girl!

Sara glanced at Clay, confirming that he didn’t know about Sara’s prior encounter with Lizzie. Not that that was a surprise. Mark Ryerson’s ethics would never have allowed him to share Sara’s confidential remarks with anyone but Lizzie.

“I’m Lizzie Canton.” She walked over to Sara and placed a backpack on the bed. “I brought you something. A present. Just in case. And it looks like you need it.”

When she pulled a lovely white nightgown into view, Sara cooed. “How thoughtful. This hospital gown isn’t exactly flattering, so it’s the perfect gift. Thanks.”

Clay chuckled. “I should have thought of that, right? I bring you a toothbrush, and a stranger brings you lingerie.” To Lizzie he added quickly, “I’m kidding. It was great of you. Thanks.”

Sara arched an eyebrow at Clay. “If you really want to bring me a gift, how about a sandwich? I’m starving, and applesauce probably isn’t going to cut it.”

“Sure. It’ll give you two a chance to get acquainted. And I’ll only be a minute. The cafeteria is just one floor down.”

“My hero.”

Clay grinned. “Lizzie, stick to her like glue. Got it? She’s shaky on her feet, so don’t leave her alone, not even in the bathroom.”