Page 64 of On The Beach

“Thanks, Dr. Volnay." I looked around the lab, a pang of familiarity and loss running through me. I'd been in rooms like this more times than I could count, labs and offices humming with data analysis and anticipation, the drone of machinery, the smell of ethanol, the sterile air—places that had once felt like home. But coming back here now felt different,strange, like donning an old suit that no longer fit because the contours of my body had changed.

Everyone, except Belle, was staring at me, eyes wide with surprise, as if I were a myth, and they couldn't believe I wasreal. One of the younger researchers was practically gaping, glancing between me and Belle with a look of open curiosity. Clearly, they were as surprised by my arrival as Belle had been.

Belle took a step back, crossing her arms tightly, her eyes steely and detached. "Dr. Augustus is here to provide oversight on the patent and the trial. And before anyone asks, yes, it'stheDr. Augustus—the one who helped develop the process that we'll be using for this trial." Her voice was dry, almost clipped as if she couldn't stand to give me more credit than was necessary.

I cleared my throat, addressing the team directly. "I know it's a surprise having me here, and I'm sure you've all been doing incredible work on this trial. I'm not here to provide oversight; I'm just going to be a spectator, and I promise not to get into anyone's way."

A few people nodded eagerly, but Belle's gaze stayed locked on me, her lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn't convinced, and she didn't want anyone else to be, either.

Dr. Salim Kher broke the silence with a hearty chuckle, stepping forward to shake my hand. "Dr. Augustus, you have no idea what a privilege it is to have you here. You're practically a legend to some of us." His eyes sparkled with excitement, his enthusiasm so genuine that I felt a pang of guilt because I wasn't here for science; I was here for thefair maiden.

But Belle's voice cut through the moment. "The privilege is certainly ours, Dr. Kher," she said smoothly, her tone laced with just enough subtle sarcasm that I doubted anyone else caught it—but I did.

We did a round of introductions and afterward, I sat on a stool at a lab counter as the meeting progressed.

Dr. Kher was clearly excited, jumping into every detail of the trial. The rest of Belle's team seemed equally passionate, pouring over data and charts, genetic sequences, and minute details of Sanfilippo Syndrome.

Belle wasn't the same woman I'd met in Reef Harbor. This version of her, with her dark hair pulled back into a braid, was just as stunning as she'd been on the beach. But seeing her in a lab coat, speaking with such passion about a clinical trial—that was something else entirely.Andshe made me hard. I couldn't remember the last time listening to someone go through clinical trial protocols gave me an erection. Strike that; thiswasthe first time that had happened.

I knew she didn't trust me to be a bystander, but I'd meant what I said. I wasn't here to provide oversight; I was here to win my woman back, and the only way I could see doing that was to force her into my company day in and day out.

"We will start Phase 1 of our trial shortly," Belle declared, and everyone clapped. "As you know, in this phase, our focus will be on evaluating the treatment's safety, typically on a small group of participants, in our case ten, to determine safe dosage levels and initial responses."

"When do you think we'll start to see results?" I asked, and her calm façade slipped a little. She wasn't expecting me to ask questions.

Hell, woman, if I don't rattle you a little, you're going to ignore me, and that I'm not going to have.

"What do you think Oliver?" she asked a member of her team.

I surmised that Dr. Oliver Fernandez, who had just completed his postdoc, was in his late twenties and as eager as I remembered being at that age. "In a Phase 1 trial for a gene therapy targeting a condition like Sanfilippo Syndrome,I believe we can typically start seeing preliminary results within three to six months."

Belle nodded and then turned to the woman sitting close to me. "Deepika, what else will our focus be in this phase?"

Deepika Jaiswal seemed less sure of herself, probably because she had recently graduated from university with a master's in biopharmacology. "This phase is primarily about safety and finding the right dosage, but we will monitor for early signs of efficacy, especially in cases of Sanfilippo Syndrome, a severe and progressive disease where any positive response is meaningful."

Well, that sounded straight out of a textbook. Deepika glanced at me nervously, and I offered her a reassuring smile. I'd been in her shoes before—scared, uncertain, convinced I'd never make it in a profession where failures far outnumbered successes. But when you did succeed, even just that one time in a thousand, the impact could be life-changing. The researchers who developed the mRNA COVID vaccines had saved millions of lives—and they'd started exactly where this team was now.

As the team broke into groups, starting to review data and trial logistics, I walked up to Belle, watching her face tighten.

"Happy?" she bit out.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, I heard that Dr. Augustus was a control freak, and that was why he hadn't signed releases for his patents. You're definitely proving that." She was bitter, angry, and even worse, disappointed.

"Babycakes," I murmured, keeping my voice low so only she could hear, "you know this isn't about controlling you. It's about trying to make things right."

She gave me a hard look, barely holding back the frustration and betrayal simmering behind her eyes. "Makewhatthings right?" she whispered, her voice sharp. "Showing uphere, throwing your influence around, and insisting that you're part of the team”—she gestured around the room, her expression filled with irritation—"is not makinganythingright; all it's doing is pissing me the hell off."

"It's my fucking patent," I growled.

A few heads turned toward us.

"Let's take this into my office." Belle waved at a glassed cubicle next to the lab. We walked in, and as soon as we did, Belle pushed some buttons to frost the glass.

"Neat," I commented.

"My team already thinks something is off. First, I showed up and told them I couldn't find you, and now you're here looking damn familiar with me. I don't need gossip. This is my place of work."

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