Page 64 of I Dream of Danger
“What? What?” Nick’s eyes widened and he got in her face, jaws working. She could actually hear his teeth grinding. “You changed your name? You fucking changed your fucking name? Do you have any idea how fucking hard I?—”
“Nick.” Dr. Young’s husband landed a very heavy hand on Nick’s shoulder and dug his fingers in. Nick’s face showed nothing, but those hands looked extremely strong. It was entirely possible that he was doing some damage to Nick’s shoulder. The man shook his head. “We don’t talk to women like that in Haven, Nick. We don’t talk to anyone like that. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Nick shrugged his shoulder and the man lifted his hand. Nick was glaring at her and she glared right back. Of all things, she hadn’t expected this. He was mad! At her. The nerve!
Anger, red hot and painful, boiled in her chest. Elle turned to the other woman in the room. Dr. Catherine Young could be trusted to be rational. “Dr. Young, please tell Nick?—”
Dr. Young lifted her hand. “Please Dr. Connelly, call me Catherine.”
One big breath. Two. Manners, she told herself. “And you must call me Elle, of course.”
Catherine nodded and smiled. They could have been in a drawing room over tea instead of some hidden location with three frightening men and one world-class scientist. “Well, Elle. We should make some other introductions. You’ve met Jon.” Jon gave an ironic smile and a two fingered salute off his forehead. “Ma’am.”
Elle inclined her head. “We’ve met. As a matter of fact, he rescued me.”
“He rescued you!” Nick said heatedly. “He didn’t do anything but fly the helo! So how the hell does he come off as the big rescuer? I’m the one who?—”
“And this is my husband, Mac.” Catherine’s voice was soft, but she managed to run right over Nick’s rant.
“Ma’am.” Mac had the deepest voice she’d ever heard. It was a rumble she felt in her diaphragm rather than heard. He reached over, engulfed her hand in his, squeezed gently for a second then let her hand go. Which was nice because he could have crushed it easily and Elle needed that hand.
Catherine hadn’t mentioned last names at all. Interesting. Well, if she couldn’t know names, could she get some info on other things? “Nice to meet you all. So. Where am I?” she asked.
Silence. Utter silence. That was interesting, too.
“I’m sure Nick will bring you up to speed eventually, Elle.” Catherine smiled at her. “But in the meantime, you must be exhausted and you must be hungry. So before we show you to your room…”
“My room,” Nick interrupted angrily. “My room. She’s staying with me. In my room.”
Another moment of perfect silence.
“Elle?” Catherine asked softly. “Are you okay with that?”
She had no idea what to say. None. All of a sudden she was aware of her immense exhaustion, like a living thing weighing down on her. A huge boulder that weakened her knees and seemed to dim the lights in the room.
This was Nick, the man she’d loved almost her whole life. And this was Nick, who’d abandoned her the day after she buried her father. And this was also Nick who by some crazy tangled reasoning in his mind had decided he was angry at her
“No,” she said decisively. “Could I have a separate room?”
How she was going to deal with Nick from here on in was something she was going to have to face in the future, but right now, she was at the end of her physical and mental resources. Having a fight with Nick was utterly beyond her.
Nick’s eyes bugged. “What?” His deep voice rose an octave. “What? What the fuck? Of course?—”
“Nick. Stop that right now.” Catherine Young seemed to be about half the weight of Nick with a soft voice, but that voice stopped him dead in his tracks.
His mouth closed with a snap, lips pressed together as if he had to work to not talk. But his eyes were still wide and a little wild. He huffed out a big breath like a bull.
He wasn’t liking this. Not one bit.
Good.
“Well, first things first. I’m not letting you go to your room before getting a bite to eat.” Catherine gently steered her toward the cart, pulled a chair from a desk, and sat her down. Mac pulled something down from the wall, detached it, pushed a button, and it magically unfolded into a table which connected to some hidden seam in the service cart with a distinct click. It was a cue for everyone to grab a chair and place it around the table.
“Guests first,” Mac said in his deep bass. Which was kind, but also served to remind everyone that she was the outsider here. Mac and Catherine started lifting covers off the serving plates, and the room filled with the scent of delicious food.
Nick sat his chair right next to hers, so closely his shoulder brushed hers as he piled food on a plate and set it in front of her. “Eat,” he commanded.
Everyone was looking at her expectantly, as if they’d never seen a person eat before. Elle waited a second, fork poised above her plate, watching them watching her.
