"What is so important about it that it cannot wait until it's safe to venture out?"
"That is none of your business." I found my wallet, but no handbag. Not that it mattered. All I needed was my credit and insurance cards.
I walked back to the door, but Quinn didn't move.
"Get out of my way."
"You can't go out alone. At least let me come with you."
I didn't want Quinn there. Didn't want anyone there. Not when this might be the very worst news I'd ever hear. "I'll be all—"
"No." His voice was cold. Determined. "Not alone. I either escort you there and back, or you remain here."
"Escort, not come in."
He nodded, and moved aside. I walked into the living room and scrawled a note for Rhoan. "What time is he due back?"
"He wasn't sure. Could be late." Keys jangled behind me. "He left us a Merc in case we needed it."
When the Directorate had personnel go under safe cover, they obviously didn't do it by halves. "Fine. Let's go, then."
We took the lift down to the basement, and walked across to the penthouse parking bay. Quinn did the gentlemanly thing and opened the door, ushering me inside before climbing into the driver's side.
For a good ten minutes, he didn't say anything. I stared out the window, thinking about the future, and hoping like hell I actually had something decent to look forward to.
"What is the appointment for?" he asked, eventually.
"As I said, that's none of your business."
"Are you ill?"
I snorted softly. Part of me wished I was ill. It would be better than probably being sterile. "No."
"Then why a specialist?"
Annoyance ran through me, and I glanced at him. "You have no right to ask these questions."
"And no right to care?" he bit back. "You're a fool if you think that I don't."
I wasn't a fool. His caring had always been in his touch, and occasionally, in his eyes, even when his words had denied the possibility. But I couldn't afford to dwell on it, because right now I couldn't afford to do exclusive with a vampire. And he would want exclusive, even though he hadn't actually come out and said it.
"Quinn, I'm not up to dealing with what you want right now." Not when I had tried. Not when I had far bigger problems.
He didn't say anything, and we continued on in silence. He asked for the address once we reached the city, and pulled to a halt outside the Collins Street building. Ignoring the "no standing" signs, he parked the car then got out, walking around to open the door.
I ignored his offer of assistance, and looked up at the thirty floors above me. Dr. Harvey was on the twentieth, which was something of a stretch for my fear of heights. And while, technically, that fear shouldn't appear when I was in a building with four walls all around, it didn't seem to matter a damn to my stomach. Last time, I'd almost puked every time I'd looked out the doctor's office windows. And the lift ride back down to ground level had left me shaking and sweating. Not an experience I was looking forward to reliving.
"Are you sure you're going to be all right?"
"Of course. I'm not ill, as I said."
"I guess not," he replied shortly. "Even though you've gone as white as a sheet."
"My doctor is on the twentieth floor." And he knew about my ridiculous fear of tall, tall buildings and their awful elevators.
"You want me to accompany you in the lift? It might be easier if you have company."
I shook my head and ignored the caring in his voice. "I have no idea how long I'll be."
"I'll be waiting in the foyer."
"Fine." Tightly gripping my wallet, I walked past him and into the building. I didn't get far.
"Riley?"
I froze, recognizing the rich tones, knowing who it was even before I turned around.
Misha.
My ex-mate, and the very last person in the world I wanted to see right now.
He rose from the chair and strolled toward me, a tall, lean figure who caught the eye as much for the gracefulness of his movements as the expensive cut of his clothes. The sunlight streaming through the glass turned his silver hair a rich, burnished gold, but nothing could warm the cold calculation from his icy eyes.
"Misha," I said, glad to hear my voice was even. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you." He stopped when there were several feet between us. His familiar, musky scent swam around me, stirring memories of all the good times we'd had together. Memories that might just be a lie, like everything else from that period of my life had been a lie.
I raised an eyebrow. "And how did you know I'd be here this afternoon?"
"Easy. There aren't many doctors specializing in nonhuman fertility problems. I merely hacked into the computers of the half dozen listed here in Melbourne, and went through their files until I found you."
If Misha knew about my fertility problems, then he was involved in whatever was going on deeper than I'd thought. "And why would you be doing that?"
"Because I needed to talk to you, and I doubted whether you'd come to me willingly."
He was only half right. I wouldn't go to him willing, but I'd certainly fuck him willingly once he'd made the first approach. He—or rather, the information he could give me—was my path back to a normal life. "You and I have nothing to talk about."
His smile was warm, yet it did little to lift the calculation in his eyes. "Oh, I think we do."
I glanced past him, looking at the clock on the wall. "I have an appointment in ten minutes. You have three to say what you came here to say."
He raised an eyebrow, his expression mocking. "Then I will get straight down to business. I know Talon was giving you ARC1-23. I know why. And I know the results."
I raised an eyebrow. "And here I was believing when you said you had nothing to do with Moneisha or Genoveve."
"I didn't. But we both know that Talon giving you the drug had nothing to do with either of those places. Or anything else he was involved with."
Jack was right. This wolf knew a whole lot more about what was going on than any of us did. "He'd been trying to get me pregnant."
"As was I."
I blinked. "What?"
He shrugged. "Talon and I have been competitors for a long time. I thought it would be interesting to see what sort of child you and I could produce."
There was more behind his decision than just a competitive urge. I could see it in his eyes. "You're both mad."
"Maybe. It was certainly a risk on my behalf."
I frowned. "Meaning what?"
"Meaning, Talon was given no specific instructions other than to fuck you senseless in an effort to learn more about Jack. I, on the other hand, was told to keep away." Humor briefly touched his eyes, warming the chill depths. "I thought you worth the risk."
Yeah, right. I was really believing that. "I'm not in the least bit flattered. And why would it be risky for you to fuck or impregnate me?"
"As I said, I was ordered to stay away."
"So who gave these so-called orders?"
He gave another shark smile and sidestepped the question. "Did you know Talon was sterile?"
I nodded, and surprise flitted briefly through his eyes. "Interesting, because Talon certainly didn't."
"Talon thought himself the perfect specimen."
My voice was tart, and Misha's smile warmed, becoming genuine for the first time. "He was never one to see his faults."
"And you are?"
He shrugged. "It pays to know one's faults. That way you can work around them." He studied me for a minute, the warmth of his smile fading, sending a chill skittering across my skin. "I have a proposition for you."
"I don't want to hear it." Such a lie, but one Misha fell for hook and sinker.
"Oh, I think you will once you go up and see your specialist."
My heart lodged somewhere in my throat, and refused to budge. For several seconds, I couldn't even breathe. "What do you mean?"