“Are you?” Trace asked him.
The color had fled from Skye’s face. Trace didn’t like that. Not at all.
“I didn’t even know her before the accident. So I sure couldn’t have been stalking her then.” Mitch threw himself into his chair. The wheels rolled back. “And, no, I didn’t rush after her to Chicago. The sex was good, but trust me, I’ve moved the hell on.”
The sex was good. Every muscle in Trace’s body tensed.
“Give us a moment, would you, Skye?” Trace’s voice was soft. Too soft.
“Trace…” Worry had entered her voice. She did still know him so well.
He glanced at her. “It will only take a moment.”
Skye shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my life we’re talking about.”
The drumming of his heartbeat filled Trace’s ears. He forced himself to look back at the doctor. “Do you remember who visited Skye while she was here?”
“I remember you,” Loxley snapped. “I don’t forget it when the hospital VP tells me I have to let some visitor in against regulations.”
The guy needed to stop pushing. “Anyone else?”
“I have a lot of patients, it’s not like I can remember everything—”
“You don’t f**k all your patients.” Trace paused. “At least, I hope you don’t. So since Skye warranted special treatment from you, I’m thinking you might have paid a bit more attention to who was coming and going from her room.”
The doctor’s eyes had narrowed. Anger burned in his dark gaze. “The British guy,” Mitch bit out. “Wolfe. He came in, so did some of the women she danced with. I never saw anyone else, but then, I was working my rounds. Treating other patients. Not keeping a twenty-four seven watch on Skye.”
The doctor just kept pushing…
“I guess I know why you told me good-bye, Skye,” Loxley said as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “But then, I knew what was happening after that night.”
“I’m sorry,” Skye told him.
Trace stiffened. Oh, hell, no, she didn’t need to apologize to this jerk who didn’t understand the whole concept of a doctor-patient relationship.
“So am I,” Loxley murmured. His gaze shifted to the door. Jaw hard, he said, “Now if that’s all, I have work to do.”
No, that wasn’t all. “I need to know where you’ve been the last few days, doctor.” Though Trace had a feeling that friendly nurse Marsha could give him that info.
“Why? Because you think I flew to Chicago and attacked Skye?” Mitch rose from his chair. Crossed the small room until he stood right in front of Skye. “Is that what you think? That I would hurt you? I’m the one who saved your life. I’m the one who helped you.”
“It’s not like that, Mitch,” Skye said. There was some bite in her voice. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s happening. You don’t understand—he’s been watching me. For so long.” Her hair slid over her shoulders as she shook her head. “I’m tired of being afraid. I want him stopped. I thought…we thought you might have seen someone, seen something that could help—”
“If I knew anything that would help you, I’d tell you.” Mitch’s gaze swept over her face. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
Skye nodded. She turned away. Trace headed to her side. He took her elbow.
Made sure that she exited that room.
But…before he left…
Trace shut the door. He flipped the lock so that Skye couldn’t burst back inside. Then he squared off against the doctor.
“I don’t really care for bullshit.” Trace figured it was good to be blunt.
Skye knocked on the door. “Trace?” Her voice was high, shocked. “What the hell are you doing?”
He pointed to the desk. “If you’re so over Skye, why is her picture on your desk?”
The doc’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
“You better have people here who can say that you haven’t left town. Because if I find out that you’ve been following Skye…” Trace smiled and knew the sight would chill. “I will make sure that you’re never a threat to her again.”
“I-I didn’t even realize the photo was still there. I just haven’t tossed it out—”
“You’re done with Skye. She’s done with you. She’s moved the f**k on, and you need to do the same.” Trace held the guy’s gaze a moment longer, wanting to make sure the fellow got the point.
Skye’s fist hit the door. “Trace, stop it!” Fear and anger twined in that demand.
Because she remembered what he was like. She shouldn’t worry so much. He was leaving the doctor in one piece. For the moment.
The sex was good.
“It might have just been good with you,” Trace said as he cast a disdainful glance at the doc. “But it’s f**king fantastic with me.”
Then he left the not-so-good doctor glaring after him.
“What did you do?” Skye pounced on him.
He shrugged. “Set a few things straight.”
Now it was time to find that nurse and confirm Mitch Loxley’s whereabouts.
The door slammed closed behind him. Trace was pretty sure he heard a fist hit the wood.
Good. The message had been received.
***
She belonged with him.
Skye had to see it. No one else would do for her. No one else could match her the way he did.
They were meant to be.
Her sweet scent still filled his lungs. Her face haunted his nights.
He couldn’t get away from her.
He’d make sure she didn’t escape from him.
There was no place that she could hide. He’d been watching her for too long. He knew all her secrets.
Beautiful Skye carried so many secrets.
She wasn’t the good girl that people thought her to be. Wasn’t the sweet sleeping beauty in need of true love’s kiss.
Skye had a dark side. That was why he was so drawn to her.
Skye’s darkness matched his own.
No one would come between them.
Not now.
Not ever.
He’d see Skye dead first.
Chapter Five
“The trip was a waste of time.” The plane flew through the air, the sound of its engines not even penetrating the lush interior. Skye’s fingers fumbled with the clasp of her seatbelt.
Trace sat across from her. His legs were spread, brushing against hers, and a glass of whiskey was held loosely in his hand.