Page 39 of Toxic Temptation
“His stepfather bribes the staff,” explains Kovan. “Just like Jeremy bribes the board. Money talks and children suffer. You know that as well as anyone.”
The photos blur as tears fill my eyes. “These could be fake. Photoshopped.”
“What would convince you they’re real?”
I look up at him, this dangerous man who somehow has the power to save both Luka and my hospital. “Let me talk to him.”
“Done.” No hesitation. “Tomorrow night. Luka loves the science museum. We’ll meet there at eight.”
“It’s closed at eight.”
That dangerous smile returns. “Not for me.”
He moves toward the door, and panic flutters in my chest. I don’t want him to leave. Which is terrifying for about a dozen different reasons.
“After you talk to Luka,” he says, his hand on the doorknob, “you’ll understand that I’m his best chance. His only chance.”
He turns to leave again. Before he can go, I mumble a question.
He looks at me and raises one eyebrow. “Say that again.”
“How long?” I repeat. I clear my throat and try once more. “If I agree to this insane plan, how long would we have to pretend?”
“Forty-five days.”
“That’s it?” I don’t know why I sound disappointed. “Just forty-five days to win a custody case?”
“I have connections. Resources. But they can only take me so far.” His green eyes find mine. “The rest depends on you.”
And there it is. The devil’s deal laid bare, with that dotted line gleaming, empty, waiting.
Forty-five days of pretending to be his girlfriend.
Forty-five days of playing house with the most dangerous man I’ve ever met.
Forty-five days of trying not to fall for someone who could destroy me without breaking a sweat, who would relish the chance to do exactly that.
Forty-five days of heaven.
Forty-five days of hell.
“Tomorrow night,” I hear myself say. “Eight o’clock.”
He nods. No smile. Not anymore. “I look forward to it, Doctor.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with photos of a broken little boy and the growing certainty that I’m about to make either the best or worst decision of my life.
Only time will tell which it is.
14
VESPER
“Get it together,” I whisper to myself as I walk toward the science museum entrance.
I’m five minutes late. Not because of traffic or an emergency at the hospital—I’m late because I changed clothes four times and still ended up in the first outfit I tried on—faded blue mom jeans and a white linen peasant top. The only thing different is my hair, worn loose and lightly curled around my shoulders instead of pulled back.
I spent half the afternoon and evening worrying about my appearance for a man who kidnapped me at gunpoint.
