Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
CHARLOTTE
The Anchorage airport hummed with activity. Travelers in rumpled clothes tugged wheeled suitcases from the baggage carousel. A woman argued into her phone about a rental car. Children shrieked and chased each other around a bank of plastic chairs bolted to the floor.
I stood beside Beck, my hand tucked in his as we waited for Dr. Henry to appear.
Contentment spread through me in a warm current. I’d made the right decision staying in Bear Cove. Whatever the future held, Beck and I would face it together. I wasn’t alone in the world. Not anymore.
I’d spent another restful night in his arms, followed by an easy day at the bed and breakfast. He’d slipped into his office to tend clan business while I caught up on reading. Then he’d prepared lunch while I peppered him with questions about Bear Cove’s plant life.
We’d talked over hot chocolate and a batch of scones that melted in my mouth.
When I declared myself too full to move, Beck had tugged me upstairs and into the shower, where he knelt on the tile, propped my foot on his shoulder, and worked his tongue between my thighs until I was a trembling, gasping mess.
He’d kept his fingers laced with mine the whole drive to the airport, the silence between us as easy and natural as our conversations.
But some of the easiness had faded when we entered the baggage claim. Beck’s hand was loose in mine, but his shoulders were rigid, and his jaw beneath his beard was a tight line.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly.
He looked down at me, his silver eyes shadowed. “Fine. Just…be careful, Charlotte.”
Before I could ask what he meant, movement caught my eye.
Dr. Henry emerged from a corridor, a leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder.
He never seemed to age, his calm blue eyes and distinguished-looking features the same as when I first met him.
His thick dark hair showed hints of gray at the temples, giving him an air of authority.
Unlike a lot of other professors, he was also notoriously fashionable.
The crease of his dress pants looked sharp enough to cut glass, but his charcoal-colored sweater softened the harsh lines.
Affection rising, I started forward, but Beck tightened his grip on my hand.
Dr. Henry caught sight of us, and a smile spread over his face as he approached. “There you are, Charlotte.” He flicked his gaze to Beck, then gave me an expectant look.
“Dr. Henry,” I said. “Thank you for coming all this way. This is my…” My face heated as I disentangled my hand from Beck’s. “This is Beck Antonovich,” I finished weakly.
Something flickered in Dr. Henry’s eyes, the emotion there and gone before I could catch it. He extended a hand in Beck’s direction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Antonovich. Thank you for hosting Charlotte.”
A muscle ticked in Beck’s jaw as he shook Dr. Henry’s hand. “The pleasure was mine.”
The heat in my face intensified, the double meaning making my stomach flutter. Dr. Henry couldn’t possibly know I’d spent days in Beck’s bed…could he?
His smile didn’t waver as he pumped Beck’s hand. “I appreciate you taking such good care of my protégé.” He glanced at me. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to take Charlotte to dinner. Just the two of us. We have quite a bit to discuss about her research and future plans.”
Now, my stomach clenched. Maybe I was being naive. Maybe Dr. Henry knew exactly what had transpired between Beck and me. Was he going to try to talk me out of staying in Alaska?
His smile was apologetic as he focused on Beck. “I don’t mean to exclude you, but Charlotte and I will be discussing a lot of science. I’m sure we can find plenty of time for the three of us to chat later.”
Beck didn’t answer. Despite the bustle around us, silence stretched, heavy and awkward.
I shifted on my feet. Why was Beck being so rude? Dr. Henry had flown all the way from Colorado. He’d been my mentor for nine years, and now he simply wanted to talk.
Anger sparked in my chest. My heart pumped faster, and the emotion quickly sizzled into rage.
I curled my hands into fists, images flashing through my head like a movie reel.
In my mind, I launched myself at Beck and wrapped my hands around his throat.
He had to pay. He’d embarrassed Dr. Henry, and now he’d suffer.
An overhead speaker crackled, followed by a woman’s bored-sounding voice. “Final boarding call for Alaska Airlines Flight 8191 with direct service to Portland.”
I blinked, and the anger vanished. My stomach pitched, nausea rolling through me in a thick wave. I swayed on my feet.
Dr. Henry grabbed my arm. “Everything all right, Charlotte?” His fingers were firm, his forehead creased with concern.
“Of course,” I said, confusion and embarrassment mingling in my chest. “Just dizzy for a second.”
“Airports,” Dr. Henry said with a laugh. “I think they put something in the air.” Releasing me, he turned to Beck. “Thank you for understanding, Beck. A friend recommended a great restaurant in the city. I’ve never been able to turn down a plate of spaghetti.”
My confusion swirled thicker. Had Beck agreed to Dr. Henry’s dinner plans?
“Of course,” Beck said, his expression neutral. But when he turned to me, his eyes were stricken. “I won’t be far.”
Wait. Moisture beaded his forehead. Was he…sweating?
Dr. Henry touched my arm. “I have an Uber waiting.”
Comfort spread from his hand through the rest of my body, the feeling like stepping into a warm bath. I nodded even as thoughts buzzed in the back of my head.
Why isn’t Beck coming?
Why is he just standing there?
Dr. Henry led me toward the exit. Automatic doors swished open. The thoughts dipped and circled like gnats, each one too small to bother with.
“I hope you’re hungry, Charlotte,” Dr. Henry said. “This place is supposed to be excellent.”
“Mmhmm,” I said, looking over my shoulder. Beck stood in the middle of the baggage claim, his overlarge form out of place in the busy area. His silver eyes still held that stricken look. Why did he seem so sad?
“This way,” Dr. Henry said, moving his hand to the small of my back. The gnats in my head vanished, the comfortable heat spreading.
I faced forward, and Beck slipped from my mind as I let Dr. Henry lead me to a waiting car.
A half hour later, I twirled spaghetti around my fork. Across from me, Dr. Henry sipped a glass of wine.
The restaurant was small and elegant, the brick building tucked into a side street in downtown Anchorage. White tablecloths draped to a polished wood floor. A candle flickered in a glass bowl between us. The murmur of conversation drifted through the cozy space.
Dr. Henry plucked the wine bottle from the table and refilled my glass. Then he lifted his own wine. “To your success, Charlotte.”
I set down my fork and obediently raised my glass. “Thank you.” He smiled, and I sipped. In the back of my head, a little voice questioned what, exactly, we were celebrating. By scientific standards, my research trip was hardly a success.
The wine slid down my throat, the red rich and velvety.
“So,” Dr. Henry said, setting down his glass. “Tell me about your research. Your preliminary reports were intriguing.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but dizziness washed over me. The room tilted slightly, and I gripped the edge of the table.
“Charlotte?”
“I’m fine,” I said, blinking hard. “Just tired, I think.”
Dr. Henry studied me, his blue eyes unreadable. “I’m disappointed in you, Charlotte. I expected better.”
The words hit like a slap. “What?”
“You stopped taking your medication. You stopped uploading your data.” His voice was calm, his expression unchanging. “Most concerning, you’ve allowed yourself to become distracted.”
Heat flooded my face as memories of Beck kneeling in the shower flitted through my head. “I haven’t been distracted. The research—”
“Should have been completed by now.” He leaned forward, and for just a second, something predatory and ancient flickered in his eyes. His pupils seemed to elongate, his irises flashing an unnatural pale blue.
I blinked, and it was gone. Dr. Henry looked exactly as he always had, a suggestion of concern on his handsome face.
“I think you need some air,” he said, standing. “Let’s take a walk to clear your head.”
The suggestion settled over me like someone wrapping a warm blanket around my shoulders. Yes. A walk would be good. Dr. Henry was right that I needed to clear my head.
I stood, and the room swayed. My thoughts spun…or maybe my head. Then Dr. Henry slid a hand under my elbow and guided me away from the table.
We moved through the restaurant, passing patrons engrossed in their meals and conversations.
Lights danced in my vision. Swinging doors loomed, and then Dr. Henry and I stepped through them and into a bright kitchen where chefs worked at shiny silver stoves.
A dishwasher looked up from a sink full of sudsy water but said nothing as we moved past him.
In some remote corner of my mind, a voice shouted that this was wrong. We shouldn’t be in the kitchen. But my tongue was thick and clunky in my mouth, any words of protest fading before they materialized.
Dr. Henry pushed open a service door, and cold air blasted my face. We stepped into a darkened alley where someone had pushed snow into dirty piles against the base of brick walls. A faint smell of garbage mixed with the scent of car exhaust.
I wasn’t wearing a coat. In the fog of my mind, I knew I should be cold. But it wasn’t important.
Dr. Henry pulled me to a stop and stepped behind me. He wrapped an arm around my stomach and tugged me against him, his body hard and cold at my back. He was nothing like Beck, who was big and warm. Beck would never hurt me.
Confusion swirled through my foggy thoughts. Dr. Henry had never touched me before. Not like this. This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
I grabbed his wrist, but my fingers wouldn’t work. They dragged over his sleeve as he tightened his grip. My arm fell limply against my side, my fingertips numb.
The numbness spread. Or maybe it had always been there, filling my limbs until I was too heavy to stand.
“Shhh,” Dr. Henry said in my ear. He held me up, his breath cold against my neck.
Wrong, the voice in my head whispered. How could his breath be colder than the air?
“You’re mine, Charlotte,” he said. “You’ve always been mine. Stop fighting.”
The words sank into me like stones splashing into water. My knees loosened, and my thoughts turned sluggish and sticky.
Mine. Always mine. Stop fighting.
Yes, I wasn’t supposed to fight. How could I have forgotten?
My head lolled. Something sharp grazed my neck. The alley swam before my eyes, dirty snow spreading across my vision. Somewhere in the distance, a car horn honked.
Stop fighting.
I stopped.