Circe's Recruits 1: Roane Read Online Free PDF Page B

to his overpowering strength.
    The African American man gasped. “You don’t remember --”
    “Derrick,” the sandy-haired male cautioned. “Let’s get Doc to take a look at her.”
    “Oh, come on, Hale. You can’t be telling me she doesn’t remember taking three --”
    “Derrick, shut the fuck up,” the man holding her growled. Literally growled.
    “That’s just not right,” Derrick grumbled. “Talk about love ’em and leave ’em.”
    “Derrick,” Hale snapped. “Put a sock in it.”
    “Or a foot,” the gray-eyed man said. “Ace usually goes with the foot.”
    “Up yours, Zack,” the Native American returned.
    Caught in the byplay, it was a moment before Caitlyn realized they’d begun moving again. She continued to study the men around her, curious that she didn’t sense a threat from any of them. She’d always had a decent sense of others, but now, she could almost guarantee none of these men would hurt her. A woman’s intuition times twenty.
    Of course, it didn’t hurt that all five of them were heart-stoppingly attractive. Not pretty by any stretch, they all possessed a certain quality, a raw readiness and strength that she found particularly striking. None more so than the man carrying her.
    “I got the other names. Who are you?” she asked quietly.
    “Roane.”
    “Our fearless leader,” Hale said with a grin. “He’s a good man to have on your side.”
    “Or inside you,” she thought she heard Derrick mutter.

    One look from Roane, and Zack and Ace grabbed Derrick, pulling him behind.
    “We’ll meet you inside,” Zack said, glaring at Derrick.
    Hale opened a small, wall-mounted box next to the door, revealing a keypad. He punched in several numbers, and a lock released. Pushing open the large oak door in front of him, he waited for Roane. Before they entered, Caitlyn scented salt in the air.
    “Are we by the ocean?”
    No one answered her. They moved into a homey entryway, which led into a large family room. Plush, coral-colored cushions lay on the wicker furniture. Two sofas faced each other over a glass table. Photographs of the men together and apart decorated the mantle of a white-tiled fireplace. A young woman and an older man were also in several of the photos…sitting at least twenty feet away from where they stood. How the hell can I see that far?
    Roane chose that moment to turn down a hallway. He caught her closer to his chest, and heat gathered between her legs. Startled, she studied him, intrigued by his innate sensuality. He remained oblivious to her scrutiny, and she reluctantly turned her attention back to her surroundings.
    By all appearances, they’d entered someone’s home. A large home, but a residence all the same. They walked past several bedrooms and what looked like a study. At the end of the hallway sat a wide oak door. The master bedroom, maybe?
    To the left of the door was a placid watercolor, a nicely done rendition of the dunes of Cape May, according to the footnote at the bottom, which she shouldn’t have been able to see from so far away. They approached the door. Hale lifted the picture to reveal another keypad. More beeps and then the door opened, the sound of air hissing like a pressure lock.
    Growing more nervous, Caitlyn flinched when Roane’s large palm eased her head against his chest. “Easy,” he murmured, and like that, she felt better.

    They entered a roomy, steel-walled elevator. After moving down what felt like several stories, the elevator stopped, and they exited into a sterile hallway. Rooms lined both sides of the passage, some walled in glass, some not. What looked like lab equipment and computers crowded each room. Clean, blue ceramic floor tiles, cheery yellow walls, and overhead inset lights lent the entire space a professional, yet comfortable, atmosphere -- the total opposite of Pearson Labs’ oppressive pea green walls, stark gray cement floors, and flickering fluorescent lights. The rooms in which Caitlyn had been