The hallways of the hospital were still, save for the occasional orderly making their rounds. Gael yawned, stretching her arms over her head and popping her shoulders. She sighed and settled back in the chair, digging her hands into the deep pockets of her white lab coat.

“That,” said a deep voice from the corner, “is truly disgusting.”

She turned her head, startled by the intrusion of her peaceful fatigue, and caught a glimpse of a tall, dark figure stepping out of the shadows. She smiled demurely and sank lower into the soft cushion of the chair.

“Doctor Levinski,” she nodded, stifling another yawn.

“No need for formality,” he replied, shaking his arms out of his own lab coat and loosening his periwinkle tie. “Everyone is either sedated or asleep.” He laughed at his own joke and stepped further into the light and ran a hand through his dark, gray-streaked hair. He lifted his eyes to look at her and smiled as he caught her in the midst of another yawn. “I have a fresh pot of coffee brewing in my office.”

Gael wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I’ll pass.” She lifted her left hand out of her coat pocket and twitched it reflexively, causing the sleeve to fall away from her wrist to allow her to check the time on her watch. Four o’clock in the morning. “Double shifts are murder, but I’ll be off in another four hours.” Leaning back once more in her chair, she rocked her head from side to side and shook her head. “It’s been a slow night.”

Doctor Levinski gave a brief, agreeing nod and walked over to the desk, sitting on the edge of it and looking at Gael thoughtfully. After a lingering silence, he cleared his throat. “How long have you been here?”

Rubbing her eyes, Gael shrugged. “You mean here at R.P. Hospital or in Sayre, Pennsylvania?” She laughed softly. “Either way, I’ve been here for nine months. You hired me on as an intern back in June.”

He looked impressed and raised a brow as though surprised by the lapse of time between her interview and that evening. Tossing his lab coat aside, he reached out and caught her hand in his.

Startled, she looked up. “Gordon, I -”

“You are going to make a great psychiatrist,” he whispered, his fingers warm and strong as he grasped hers.

Gael’s pale green eyes moved away from his to search the surrounding area. Finally content that no one was around, she rose from her seat and pulled her hand away. Holding her breath for a moment, her eyes drifted back up. She could see his eyes were full of only half promises - nothing definite. And the only thing keeping them apart was his vow to another woman.

His wife.

“She’s out of town this week,” he spoke softly, as if reading her own thoughts. “When you’re done here for the evening, you’re more than welcome to come to my place.” He stood up, smiling with satisfaction. “I miss you.”

Gael felt her heart trip at the sound of those words. Throughout her entire life she never thought of herself as ‘the other woman.’ But Doctor Gordon Levinski charmed her. He promised her numerous times that he would leave his wife, claiming to be trapped in a passionless marriage with a cold bitch for a wife. Yet, she had yet to see him follow through on his word.

He must have sensed her unease because before she could say anything, he rose from his position on the desk and stepped toward her. He reached out, caressing her cheek and smiling sadly.

“Things will change,” he swore, his hand moving away from her face only to bury itself in the thickness of her blonde hair. Then he sealed his vow with a kiss.

Her emotions whirled and skidded to a halt. She drew back, turning her head away. He released a sigh of annoyance but allowed her to step away. Gael cleared her throat nervously and set herself to the task of brushing imaginary specks of lint off her lab coat.

Doctor Levinski turned away from her and gathered his coat in his arms. “Think about it,” he said as he exited the room.

Sinking back down in her seat, Gael closed her eyes and rested her head on the desk. A life with Doctor Levinski was impossible. She hated all the sneaking around, the lies. She meant to break it off a month ago, but he once again promised to leave his wife. It was quickly becoming apparent he never intended to leave her. The cheating got him off.

Damn him, she silently cursed. She sat up, opened her eyes, and jumped.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Chao-xing Fu, another intern at the mental health facility stated. “I thought you were asleep.”

Gael smiled at her friend. “I wish.” Her sleepiness remembered, she indelicately yawned. “It’s been quiet tonight.”

Chao-xing nodded in agreement. “They just brought in a new victim.” She giggled, holding up a chart and flipping through the pages. “Let’s see . . . thirty-two years old, male, found wandering through the park spouting madness about being from the Eighteenth Century.” Her eyes scanned over the chart as she mumbled under her breath. “Oh, here we go . . . missing his left hand. It was replaced with a hook.”

Gael shook her head and combed her fingers through her blonde hair, pulling it back in a ponytail and securing it in a hair band. “Perfect! An armed patient.”

The Chinese woman just shook her head. “Look, I’m loaded down with patients at the moment. And, well, I am not comfortable going into a room with a patient, restrained or not, who has a built-in sharp object.” Her long, jet-black hair swayed away from her neck revealing a scar where she had her throat slit open by one of the patients when she first came to work at R. P. Hospital.

Holding out her hand, Gael sighed. “I got him; it’s not a problem.”

Chao-xing let out a sigh of relief and gladly passed the chart over. “Thanks.”

Rising from her chair once again, Gael flipped through the chart, scanning the information that Chao-xing read aloud. Shaking her head she glanced up at her friend and tucked the chart under her arm. “I swear they just keep getting crazier.”

The young Chinese woman laughed softly. “Be careful,” she requested in her soft voice. “Maybe you should get Doctor Levinski to help you. Or one of the larger orderlies. Just in case.”

Gael shrugged. “Doctor Levinski just left a few moments ago. Let me assess him first.” She paused and flipped one of the papers on the chart, skimming the handwritten words that described the mental state of the newest patient at the psychiatric hospital. On reflex, she found herself reading over his stats in her attempt to get a feel for what she had in store for her.

The information, jotted down in illegible doctors scrawl, placed the man at about six feet in height. Black hair, brown eyes, French. This could be interesting, she thought to herself, nibbling on her lower lip as she concentrated. Left hand severed above the wrist - replaced with hook. About 150 pounds. She glanced up at the given name, written in dark black marker at the top of the chart.

FRASER, FERGUS.

“Well, this is odd,” she acknowledged aloud.

Chao-xing stepped closer and peered at the chart. “What is?”

Gael pointed at the name. “He’s going under an assumed name. The chart says he’s French.” She hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. “This name he gave is Scottish. I mean, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but I’d expect a name more along the lines of Philippe Thibodeaux.”

Laughing, Chao-xing shook her head. “Welcome to the nut house!” Her pager began to beep and she glanced down. “Shit, gotta run. Mister Scholtz is scheduled for a lobotomy later this morning and I would assume he’s being less than cooperative. Thanks again for taking this one.”

Gael waved off her thanks and tucked the chart under her arm. “You owe me,” she called after Chao-xing as she fled from the room. Almost reluctantly, she took a step out of the room and into the pale, artificial yellow light of the hallway. Her black pumps clicked against the linoleum floor.

Raising her left arm once again, she flicked her wrist until she could once again check the time on her watch. Gael rounded a corner, clearing her throat and once again straightening invisible wrinkles out of her lab coat. She stopped outside of room 111-D and adjusted her name bar until it was perfectly straight. Holding her breath, she ran her security badge under the scanner and watched as the light on the lock changed from red to green. Placing her hand on the handle, she pushed down on it, hearing the soft click as the lock fell out of place. She released her breath and thrust the door open. She stepped inside quickly and released the door. The heavy bulk caused it to slam shut behind her, leaving her imprisoned with the patient; her only means of escape being that of a tiny card she kept clipped to her waist.

“Good morning, Mister Fraser. I am Doctor Bailey,” she recited as she did with every other patient she treated. “Do you know where you are?” She flipped through his chart once again, acting professional.

The patient made no noise of indication of either a yes or a no. Lifting her eyes from the chart, Gael caught her first glimpse of the man. He didn’t look as tall as the chart described him while hunched against the wall, his forehead pressed into the plaster. His raven black hair was damp with perspiration and hung in loose curls about his face. He was restrained, his arms secured in the restrictive hug of a straightjacket.

A wave of relief flowed through Gael. At least she didn’t have to worry about being hacked to death by a hook. She’d be sure to thank the orderlies later for being conscientious.

Suddenly, the man began to twitch, his body thrusting from side to side in an angry attempt to free himself from the jacket that held him. Instinctively, Gael jumped back, pressing her back to the opposite wall and watched him closely. He spun around to face her, slamming his back into the wall until he could battle no more. His head fell back against the wall with a soft thud as his face faded from scarlet to a light pink. His dark black brows were creased as he clenched his eyes shut.

“Mister Fraser,” Gael stated in an authoritative tone. “If you keep that up I will have you sedated and transferred into a padded room.” She paused, watching the rapid rise and fall of the man’s chest. “Do I make myself clear?”

Slowly, the man’s eyes opened and glared at her accusingly. He had depthless, jet-black eyes that gleamed like glassy, volcanic rock in the luminance of the florescent lights overhead. She kept her eyes locked on his as she slowly took a step toward him, hoping she didn’t startle him in the process.

“Libérez-moi,” he shouted, his voice not as gruff as she expected. Gael stopped dead in her tracks, wondering if he could sense her fear of him. She swallowed hard. Damn, why did I take five years of Spanish in school? She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and spoke calmly.

“I don’t understand.”

The nostrils of his long nose flared for a moment as he breathed heavily through them. She watched as his eyes moved over her body, starting at her eyes and trailing down her blouse and mini-skirt and finishing at her long legs. After a long, awkward silence, he finally spoke.

“Release me!”

Gael flinched at the way he spoke the words, hoping he didn’t notice. She could feel her heart racing in her chest. Swallowing down a lump of fear, she spoke once more, her voice trembling slightly. “Do you know where you are?”

The man’s eyes drifted from her and scanned the interior of the room he was being held in. “No,” he finally responded in his nasally tone.

Clearing her throat, Gael nodded at him. “You have been brought to the psychiatric ward of R. P. Hospital in Sayre, Pennsylvania.” She flipped to the fourth page of the chart. “You were found wandering around in a local park, speaking in French and dressed in attire from what appeared to be the Eighteenth Century.” Her pale green eyes drifted upward and locked onto the patient once again. “Can you tell me why you were doing that, Mister Fraser?”

“Oui,” he replied. “I was trying to find Milord.”

“I see,” she responded, trying not to sound condescending. “And who is Milord?” The words flowed awkwardly off her tongue.

“James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser,” he stated as though she should recognize the name. “Of Fraser’s Ridge.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she muttered, drawing her black pen out of her coat pocket and scribbling a few notes on the chart. “And what year is it, Mister Fraser?”

“Have ye gone daft?” he questioned, staring at her as though she had five heads and breathed fire. “’Tis the year of our Lord Seventeen Hundred Seventy-Two.”

Gael stopped jotting down her notes and raised her eyes once again to look at him. Her mouth had fallen open and she finally closed it. “1772? No, no. Mister Fraser, it is the year 2002. You are 230 years in the past.” She watched him carefully as he contemplated and absorbed the information she shared with him.

His eyes darted wildly around the room as if looking for a means of escape. Gael backed up, keeping her eyes trained on him as a security precaution. Carefully, she maneuvered her badge off of her skirt and held it firmly in her grasp, slipping it behind her back as she neared the door.

“No!” he shouted, thrashing from side to side once again.

Speaking as calmly as she could manage, Gael scanned the card and heard the soft beep that alerted her the lock had been disabled. Her fingers fumbled clumsily with the handle. “I’m ordering a sedative for you, Mister Fraser. I will be back in a little while to check on you.”

He let out a disgruntled cry as he tripped and fell to the cold, linoleum with a crash. A shout of pain resounded throughout the room. He turned his eyes upward to look at her once more.

“Are ye a healer?”

Gael stifled a laugh. “I’m a doctor. I’m going to help you get better.”

With that said, she quickly exited the room before he had a chance to stand up. Once the door banged shut behind her, she leaned against it and clutched the chart to her chest. She had dealt with different levels of psychosis since arriving at the hospital for her internship, but none of her patients had the determination of the man behind the door that currently supported her weight.

Releasing another long sigh, she stood up straight and clipped her security badge to her waist once again. Taking a few steps away from the door, she could hear his voice echoing in her mind as he spoke the date he truly believed it to be. A cold shiver ran down back causing her to shudder.

Deep breaths, she reminded herself as she slowly ambled away. He’s not right in the head.

Yet, just as she was about to round the corner, she turned back and stared for a long moment at the door to his room, considering his words. Then, shaking her head, she walked away.

Chapter Two

Gael brushed wispy strands of her long, blonde hair behind her ear as she slowly scaled the stone staircase leading to the front door of a large house. She reached the landing and turned, taking in the dark shadows of the budding trees as they stretched toward the gray sky. A large rain cloud hovered menacingly overhead, threatening to storm. The wind picked up since she left the hospital, dead tired from a double shift but unable to relax.

She almost wondered why she came to this place.

This was a mistake, she silently berated herself. Just turn around and leave. She nibbled timidly on her bottom lip, glancing from the looming front door to her vehicle, ingeniously parked on the side of the road – just in case. He’ll never know.

She finally turned away from the door, making up her mind to leave and pretend like she was never there in the first place when the door clicked and opened slowly. Startled, Gael jumped, whirling around.

“Were you just going to stand out here all day?” Gordon Levinski questioned, his dark eyes roaming over her figure. He chuckled, and smiled at her. “I was hoping you’d come.”

Gael drank in the sight of him. His silver-streaked dark hair was neatly combed back, as always, not a hair out of place. He had retired his suit and tie, dressed now in a white, thick terrycloth bathrobe emblazoned with his monogram in royal blue. Her eyes settled on the embroidered lettering.

GL, she privately mused. Gael Levinski.

“Well?” he probed, opening the door wider for her. “I just drew a hot bath.”

“Huh?” she sputtered, snapping out of her reverie.

“Come in.”

Laughing nervously, she shook her head. “I – I really can’t stay long.” Her heart was thundering in her chest.

He raised a questioning brow at her and took a casual step toward her. She watched as his eyes raked quickly over the surrounding woods as if looking for intruders on his land. She had never seen him act so . . . discreet. As a reflex, her own eyes surveyed her surroundings momentarily.

Tall trees bordered his property. They almost created an impenetrable wall, keeping the world shut out from his life. It was quiet and serene there. She could barely make out the siding of his neighbors home on the neighboring plot. The coast seemed clear.

Gordon lightly fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. The soft brushings of his fingers caused her to turn back toward him. He once again looked her over seductively, his mouth curving into an unconscious smile. Slowly, he bent forward, his lips tenderly brushing her cheek.

She closed her eyes, feeling her heart beat a deafening cadence in her head. It seemed as though her heart would race whenever he touched her. But it wasn’t the thrill of being with him.

It was fear.

Doctor Levinski was an exceedingly wealthy man. He had a lovely wife. Gael knew how he felt about his wife; he would tell her often about being trapped in a union with her. But she was drop-dead gorgeous and of his stature. Compared to her, Gael was a lowly peon.

She was of middle class upbringing, but more often than not, her family was borderline broke. They got by with what they had; they went without when money was tight. The government aided her when she wanted to attend medical school. She just couldn’t afford to do it on her own. So, what could Doctor Gordon Levinski, a powerful man of high standing, possibly see in her?

“Please,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

Gael bobbed her head in a reluctant nod. She swallowed down the lump forming in her throat and took a slow step toward the open front door. He was at her side for each step, placing his palm on the small of her back and guiding her inside.

A rush of air blew against her skin, causing her to shiver as he closed the door behind them. Her eyes roamed over the interior of his home. She had driven by the outside numerous times; she had never seen the inside. The foyer was huge. A Persian rug was spread across the entryway, it’s massive expanse almost completely covering the black marble floor. A long table stretched across the far wall, adorned with a vase of fresh cut flowers that sat imperially on a lacy table runner. A large, crystal chandelier dangled overhead. It was currently dark, but Gael could imagine the magnificent glow it would give off.

Gordon lightly touched her forearm as he walked around her to face her. He gazed into her light green eyes. “You look nervous.”

She tensed immediately and turned away. “I feel like I shouldn’t be here.” Her eyes continued to explore the room, looking everywhere but at him. She cleared her throat. “I know I shouldn’t be here. It’s just-”

He placed a finger to her lips and hushed her. “Meredith is abroad for another week, Gael.”

Turning her eyes to finally look at him, she sighed. She almost felt weak under his intense gaze. Gael opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out his mouth covered hers hungrily.

She released a startled cry, feeling the domination of his lips over hers. His tongue forced her lips to part as the kiss intensified. Her initial reaction was to fight; she would not give into him. But instead of pushing him away, Gael found herself wrapping her arms around his neck, easing him closer to her body, her own tongue joining in a dance with his.

He pulled back almost reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers. “Come upstairs,” he whispered, his hot breath caressing her face.

Gael’s senses reeled as if short-circuited. Her heart whispered a thousand reasons she should not go with him, but her mind shouted all the reasons she should. “Okay,” she spoke softly.

She felt his lips brush her brow as his arms urged her toward the staircase in the far corner of the room. The calve muscles struck the bottom step, causing her to falter. As if on command, he swept her, weightlessly into his arms.

“I got you,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to her neck.

Gael closed her eyes, her fingers lacing behind his neck, giving him added leverage. A gentle sigh escaped as he began to ascend the stairs, slowly.

Very slowly.

With each excruciating step he took, his kisses would linger longer. He rested on the first landing, slowly lowering Gael to the hardwood. His dark brown eyes glimmered in the darkness of the hall as he gazed deeply into hers.

“I can’t,” he whispered, stepping toward her. His hands pressed on her shoulders, forcing her back against the wall behind her. His fingers fumbled with the second button of her blouse. Freeing it, he captured the next one and repeated the act. “I can’t wait.”

Gael shivered and pressed the palms of her hands against the cool plaster of the wall. She watched as he meticulously worked each button out of the hole that kept the garment bound to her. Her chest rose and fell with each labored breath. Reaching the final button, he fervently parted her shirt and slid his warm hands against the smooth skin of her stomach.

Goosebumps erupted all over as another small sigh was released from her lips. Carefully, his fingers trailed up her body and eased the lacy cup of her bra aside. His hand lightly touched her hardening nipple as he kissed the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat.

She moaned softly.

His teasing fingers moved away as his mouth began to trail kisses down her chest. Slowly, his hands moved downward, skimming either side of her body to her thighs. He eased her skirt up, inch by inch, as he lightly kissed her taut nipple.

Gael gasped. “Stop,” she pleaded, lifting her hands to his shoulders and pushing him away.

“We can’t stop now,” he growled. His eyes roamed over the swell of her hips and came to rest on her exposed breast.

Gael maneuvered the cup of her bra back into place. “We have to.” Her trembling fingers began to slide the second button of her shirt back into place. “I told you I wouldn’t sleep with you until you divorced your wife.” She paused as his eyes lifted to gaze into hers. “I mean it.” She started in on the next button as she stepped away from the wall.

Gordon shook his head disbelieving. “Then why did you come here?”

Gael’s mouth dropped open as she fumbled with the fourth button. “Why did I come here?” she repeated in disbelief. “I didn’t know the only reason I could show up on your doorstep was to fuck you!”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She sidestepped him and began to descend the staircase. “It is what you meant, Gordon. And I am sick and tired of playing your mind games!” She could hear him start down the stairs behind her. “You promised me months ago that you and your wife were through.” She reached the black marble floor and stepped quickly onto the Persian rug.

She never called his wife by her first name; that would make her real. While the fact he had a wife was a definite reality, she wasn’t truly there unless called by name. It was Gael’s own little way of justifying her love of a married man.

“She’s hardly here these days,” Gordon responded, crossing the rug and catching her by the forearm, turning her around. “We don’t even share a bed anymore. She’s in a completely different room.” He sighed. “Gael, she and I haven’t had sex since you and I became a little more serious.”

Gael brushed his hand off her arm. “Then why do you still have your wedding ring on? Why is she still living here? Why haven’t you gotten a divorce?” The questions spilled forth in anger.

“This is a delicate situation,” he countered. “She could take half – if not more – of my fortune in a divorce. I’m walking on eggshells with her. I promise you we’ll be together. Please be patient.”

She lowered her gaze to the rug and sighed. “Swear to me these aren’t just empty promises.”

Gordon Levinski hooked a finger under her chin and raised her head. “I promise,” he said in a business-like tone. “We will be together soon.” His last words were smothered on her lips. He pulled away slowly. “Now, why are you here?”

Gael drew in a long breath. “I got a new patient this morning. A Mister Fergus Fraser. I would like your opinion.”

He grinned. “I would like that, Gael. When is your next shift?”

“Five o’clock,” she replied. “I know it’s your day off but-”

“I’ll be there,” he said.

A small smile warmed the features of her face. With a quick turn, she walked toward the door and opened it. “I’ll see you then.” With that, she closed the door behind her and tried to put the events of the morning behind her.

Chapter Three

The electrifying illumination of another lightning strike in the distance sparked in the dark, overcast sky like thousands of flashbulbs going off at once. Gael leaned against the brick wall of the hospital beneath the awning and folded her arms to keep from shivering in the evening spring air. A loud thunder boom mingled with the relentless downpour of rain.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the tranquil chaos of the spring storm. The chill of the evening air raged around her, but she found its coolness a relief. Stormy nights were chaotic at the hospital. Nothing like a bit of thunder and lightning to stir up the patients and put them on edge. But, outside, away from the unrelenting flow of patient reports ranging from the odd to the downright bazaar and the ordering of massive amounts of sedatives to be administered to the patients whose inner insanity was awakened by the storm, Gael could find a moments peace.

But only a moment.

She opened her eyes as she heard the roar of a vehicle pulling up. The rain-drenched pavement glistened like diamonds as the faint yellow headlights rounded a corner. She watched the red Porsche pull into one of the front parking spots. Its windshield wipers cast drops of rain away as they whipped back and forth furiously as though engaging in battle with the storm. The motor idled for a moment before the wipers were turned off and the glow of the headlights faded away.

She moved away from the wall, righting her posture and straightening her white lab coat. She dusted off the long sleeves and secretly wished she had a mirror to check her appearance in. The door of the Porsche clicked open.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the tall man exit the sports car. He raised an umbrella and gently eased the door shut. Swallowing, Gael took a few steps out from the cover of the awning and sloshed through a growing puddle just off the curb. She cursed softly under her breath, but decided to take it in stride. Getting her feet out of the puddle, she once again crossed her arms as protection from the blast of wind that assaulted her.

Her blonde hair whipped around her face, dancing madly in the wind. The rain poured down around her and she wondered just how wet she would get. The shadow of a man maneuvered toward her, sidestepping puddles. Another flash of lightning sparked the gloominess of the evening and brought hazy colors out of the various shades of gray surrounding her.

She could see him. His gray-streaked, dark hair was neatly combed back. It was his day off, yet he still opted to sport a dress shirt and tie, complimented by pressed slacks and polished shoes.

Don’t be awkward, she heard her mind whisper. But felt an uneasy smile grace her lips.

“You’re getting soaked,” Gordon said, stating the obvious as he strode to stand beside her, guiding the umbrella to shield both of them from the lashing rain. He surveyed her kindly; for once he didn’t look her up and down with a lustful gleam in his eyes. It was . . . different.

She met his dark brown eyes and the smile faded from her lips. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I told you I’d come,” he replied with staid calmness. His free hand rose slightly and touched the rain-drenched sleeve of her white lab coat. Her eyes turned from his and gazed instead at the brilliant lightshow raging in the heavens. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air.

She wondered if things would ever be the same between them. All afternoon she recounted the events of that morning in her head. In fact, she lost sleep over it. His lips had felt so good on her skin. She had enjoyed each caress, nibble and touch. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine what had possessed her to halt the thrill he was giving her.

But she had stopped him. And she had never spoken to any man like she had to him. She took a long, hot shower when she had returned to her apartment after leaving Gordon to his bath – alone. In her mind, she mentally prepared herself for him to call off their relationship.

Perhaps it would be for the best.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words coming out in a self-conscious manner. It was almost as though the words had never been spoken by him before.

Gael turned her eyes away from an intense study of heavy rainfall pummeling the surface of a nearby puddle, her heartbeat stepping up a notch. She wanted so badly to remain infuriated by his actions, or lack thereof. He promised her a deeper commitment a couple months ago. But until a divorce was granted, no other advancement could be made. Kissing and touching a married man was one thing; sex with him was another.

But he seemed sincere in his apology.

“Me too,” she said in a broken whisper. No. I will not cry!

He offered her a forgiving smile. Lightning streaked through the dusky sky, slicing through the darkness and allowing her to get a good glimpse of Doctor Levinski. His dark eyes were trained on her; seeing her alone and blocking out the rest of the world. Gael moved her arm away from his hand and lightly pressed her chilled fingers to the warm flesh of his left palm. Sliding them up, she laced his fingers with her own and gave an affectionate squeeze. The cool metal of his gold wedding band pressed into her skin.

“Take it off,” she whispered. Thunder rolled overhead and lightning reflected in the dark depths of his eyes. She didn’t flinch.

He bent his head in response, his lips slowly descending to meet hers. His mouth lingered there momentarily while thunder rumbled and lightning crashed in the sky above. The rain drove harder around them, ricocheting off the puddle-soaked parking lot. Gael broke the kiss first.

It was not the answer she sought.

“This is not the time,” he said, his voice callous. It almost sounded like a warning.

She released his hand at once and swiveled quickly, turning her back toward him. Tears welled in her eyes, one escaping and trailing a wet path down her cheek. She didn’t attempt to wipe it away for fear of giving away the break in her resolve. His fingers gently squeezed her left shoulder.

Without another thought, she shrugged his hand away and dashed out from the shelter of the umbrella. The heels of her black pumps thumped against the rough pavement as she darted toward the sliding doors of the hospital. The wind lashed against her skin as the rain pelted her, drenching her hair and mingling with the tears she shed. In the distance, Gael could hear him calling out to her, but rolling thunder drowned his voice out.

She leapt onto the curb, slipping momentarily on the wet pavement, but recovering quickly. Maintaining her balance, she sprinted toward the sliding glass doors. They opened without recourse and allowed her entrance into the warm lobby of R. P. Hospital. Her steps halted on the mat inside, her clothing dripping wet.

As the doors began to close, she heard them falter momentarily and glide open once again. An umbrella closed behind her and was irately hurled to the linoleum floor at her feet. Gael jumped at the sound but refused to turn around.

His feet shuffled across the mat behind her. She held her breath and her ground, waiting for yet another lecture about his marriage of convenience, only succeeding in making her out to be a demanding asshole.

Not this time, buster! She had sworn the like before, always giving in to his sob story. But enough was enough. Not this time!

However, he didn’t even try to persuade her otherwise. Instead, he stalked past her, his body bumping her shoulder and casting her aside. She glared at the back of his head with burning, reproachful eyes. He strode quickly past the front desk and into the hallway awash with the overhead fluorescent lighting. He never once turned around to look at her. Finally, he rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

“Damn you,” she hissed, kicking his umbrella away. With fury raging within her, she stepped away from the doors and briskly strode away from the doors, opting to turn right at the front desk and head toward her office, going the opposite direction of Doctor Levinski. The last thing she wanted to risk was seeing him again tonight.

~*~*~*~

Gael battled another knot of hair and picked carefully at it with her comb. Small flecks of water flew off the blonde strands and onto the small mirror on the wall beside her desk. She grimaced, doing her best to disentangle the mass of wet hair with as little pain as possible.

A gentle knock startled her.

“Go away,” she howled, her head jerking back as she continued to fight with her tangled, wet hair.

The door clicked open despite her demand. She whirled around in time to see Doctor Fu duck her head inside. The intern’s jet-black hair fell down her shoulders. “Did I come at a bad time?” the Chinese woman asked.

Gael waved her inside and continued her assault on her hair. She winced slightly as she finally disentangled the knot and moved to the next one. “Sorry, Chao-xing. It’s been one hell of a night.”

The petite woman shook her head. “What happened to you?”

Inhaling deeply, Gael fought the urge to break down and blab everything to her friend about her relationship with Doctor Levinski. She had wanted to do that from the start, when the flirting began. Gordon swore her to secrecy and she obliged. Battling her conscience, Gael shook the desire to tell all and resigned herself to a quick shrug of her shoulders.

“Guess I got caught in the storm.” She could see Chao-xing nod her head passively. With an asshole who is too frightened to commit.

“But you’ve been here since five o’clock,” Chao-xing countered. “No offense, Gael, but you look like hell. I’d even go as far as to say you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Gael remarked. Although, just by looking in the mirror, she could clearly see her friend was only speaking the truth. Her white lab coat was wrinkled and completely soaked. Beneath it, her white, button-up blouse was also drenched, and both did little to cover her. Her white bra was evident through the sopping clothing. Water dripped from her hair and body. She cleared her throat. “Can I help you with something?”

“I just ran into Doctor Levinski in the hallway,” she started.

Gael unconsciously slammed the brush down on her desktop. Her hands went to her hips and her foot took to tapping the floor.

Chao-xing eyed her curiously. “Um, I wasn’t aware you signed over Monsieur Fraser to him.” She giggled at her own cleverness.

Gael’s pale green eyes widened. “I wasn’t either. What the hell are you talking about?”

The Chinese woman shrugged. “Well, he was leaving the room and ordered another sedative. Told an orderly to keep him that way.”

“Damn him!” Gael shouted, stomping quickly toward the door. She passed Doctor Fu, ignoring her friend’s questioning glance and reached for the door handle. Angrily, she pulled the door open and stormed out into the hallway, her fists clenching at her sides.

She paid no heed to anyone she passed. Her appearance forgotten, she rounded a corner and stopped outside the doorway of Fergus Fraser’s room. With great haste, she jerked her security badge off her skirt’s waistline and scanned it. The red light beeped over to green and she yanked the door open, stepping into the room.

Fergus Fraser was no longer restrained. But he was no longer fighting either. His lean body was sprawled across the bed. With the straightjacket removed, he was left shirtless and she could see each muscle in Fergus’ slender chest. He had a soft dusting of black, curly hair there. His threadbare breeches were replaced with sage green hospital scrub bottoms, tied loosely in place by one of the orderlies. Another patch of hair trailed downward from his bellybutton to under the slack waistline of his pants. Gael found herself gaping and immediately closed her mouth, raising her eyes to look at his face instead. Long, black waves of hair cascaded over his olive complexion and veiled his face from view.

The door clicked behind her, causing her to jump. She whirled around, finding herself alone with the patient and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. Making a mental note to speak to the hospital about faster closing doors, she turned again and took a cautious step toward the young man.

She leaned over him, taking her fingers and easing away the thick hair that masked his face. She sucked in a breath, finding a very different image than the one she had seen the day before. The man was no longer out of control. He looked peaceful. His long, dark lashes fell softly against his skin. A shadow of a beard covered his jaw line. Her fingers traced over it, feeling the coarseness beneath her fingertips.

Gael drew her hand away and once again ran her eyes over the length of his body. His legs were draped off the side of the mattress, his bare feet touching the cool linoleum. It almost seemed like he fell there or was thrown there by an orderly after changing the man. The orderlies were less than ecstatic when it came to dressing the patients.

Carefully, Gael bent over and gathered the muscle-hardened legs into her arms. She gasped, wondering if he was a runner or walked often; they weren’t the legs of someone who built up muscles with weights or power training. But he was fit. She maneuvered his legs onto the mattress and straightened him out. Since his head did not rest on the pillow, his legs dangled over the foot of the bed, but at least he looked a little more comfortable now. She stood up and jammed her hands inside the dripping wet pockets of her lab coat, admiring her work. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the hook on his left hand and she took an instinctive step back. No sense pressing her luck. The object in question looked dangerous enough.

Turning her back to the sleeping patient, she walked quickly to the door and fished out her security badge. She scanned it and heard the lock click out of place. Silently, she opened the door and stepped out, turning to look at the patient through the small crack before pulling the door completely shut. The lock flashed back in place with a beep. Releasing the door handle, Gael turned.

And screamed.

“Doctor Levinski,” she stammered, catching her breath and placing her right hand over her heart. The security badge fell from her grasp and onto the floor at her feet.

“Doctor Bailey,” he said, being formal with her. “What were you doing in there?”

Gael bent over, retrieving her security badge and stood up. “I was checking in on my patient. What else would I be doing?”

He shook his head, not one strand of his dark hair falling out of place. “This patient is no longer in your care. I have taken over treatment and urge you to keep away from this room and not try to override any of my decisions. He is the ideal patient to use to test my treatment on.”

Gael’s mouth fell open. “This is a man, Doctor Levinski. He is not a lab rat.”

“You have much to learn, Doctor Bailey,” he retorted. “Don’t you ever question my authority again!” With that said, he brushed past her, scanning his own security badge. The door lock beeped, clearing him for entrance. As the door clicked open, Gael stormed away, her pumps tapping noisily on the floor, not once looking back. She did her best to ignore the echo of the heavy door falling back into place.

If it’s games you want to play, she thought to herself. Then it’s games you’re going to get.

Chapter Four

Two Weeks Later

Gael slung her backpack over her shoulders with a grunt, the heavy medical journals weighing on her back. She checked her watch with the aid of the streetlamp she always parked near on the late shift, just as an added precaution. Twenty minutes late – again.

“Shit,” she exclaimed, slamming her car door shut and hastening toward the sliding glass doors of the psychiatric hospital. The burdensome volumes inside her backpack jostled with each of her motions. Why are medical journals so frickin’ heavy? she silently inquired, bearing the brunt of their weight.

A light drizzle was falling, though the forecast called for some nasty storms later in the evening. It seemed like Pennsylvania was the rain capital of the world in the autumn as the past few weeks brought little sunshine and lots of rainfall.

The glass doors slid open in welcome as she ducked under the awning and into the hospital lobby. She scuffed her feet across the mat before stepping onto the linoleum floor. The soles of her sneakers squeaked and squished with each hasty step.

So much for just sneaking in, she thought, traipsing past the front desk and toward her small office.

“Late again,” Chao-xing acknowledged, blocking the doorway to Gael’s office.

Gael halted, shrugging dismissively. “I slept late.”

“Well, Doctor Levinski is in a mood,” the petite, Chinese woman said with a casual shake of her head. “He wants to see you in his office as soon as he’s done with the next round of treatment on Monsieur Fraser.”

“I’m sure he does,” Gael retorted, shifting the backpack slightly. It almost seemed like she spent more time in his office now that they weren’t seeing each other than she did while they were an item. Except he now kept his hands off and wasn’t so eager to lift her onto his desk for a few minutes of intimate kissing and pawing.

She had toyed with the idea of reporting their affair to the Hospital Board, but opted not to in the end. After all, it wasn’t as though he had touched her without her permission or forced himself onto her. She had wanted everything he had to offer, even if she knew it was wrong. Hell, she couldn’t even count the amount of times she came close to losing her virginity to him. The case would be thrown out in the end.

She decided instead to see how many of his buttons she could press. And she delighted at how easy it was to annoy him. Gael would show up late for work. She would randomly turn her beeper off, or hang up on him when he buzzed her office phone. She even took to screening her calls at home, should he try to reach her there. It was the small things that would irk him the most.

“It’s been surprisingly quiet,” Chao-xing said. “Usually the rain brings out their inner psychosis.” She swung her head toward the hallway, obviously indicating their ward of patients.

Gael laughed. “It’s only a soft rain. Just wait until the thunder rolls in and the lightning starts. Then we’ll see how quiet it is.”

“You’ll see how quiet it is,” the other intern replied. “Now that you’re here, I’m off the clock.”

“Ah, so that’s why you were so happy to see me arrive,” she quipped. She laughed playfully and started past Doctor Fu and into her office. She felt around on the wall, fumbling for the light switch. “By the way,” she continued, turning back around and leaning against the doorframe, “how long has Doctor Levinski been with Mister Fraser?”

Chao-xing shrugged, tossing her jet-black hair behind her shoulders. “Not too long before you graced us with your presence. He wanted to sedate him again before they continued with this new procedure.”

Making a disgusted face, Gael sighed. “I swear there is no reason to keep him sedated like that. If he were my patient I’d –”

A large man suddenly fell against the wall, gasping and breathing hard. Sweat beaded against his forehead, his chest heaving. He reached a dark hand toward Gael, a pained expression crossing the features of his face. His mouth opened, words failing him. It was then that Gael noticed the deep crimson stain spreading across the chest of his sea green scrubs. He faltered, collapsing to the floor.

“Oh my God,” she cried out hysterically, falling to her knees beside the man. She knew him only as an orderly, not even sure what his name is.

Chao-xing screamed, dropping the metal chart to the linoleum. The sound echoed off the walls, ringing like a gunshot. Gael started, her heart skipping a few essential beats.

“He was with Doctor Levinski, Gael!”

“Shit,” Gael exclaimed, looking up at her visibly shaken colleague. “Are you sure?”

Chao-xing nodded quickly, her hand reflexively rubbing the scar on her neck, left by an out-of-control patient. The wound had nearly killed her. Obviously, the memories still haunted her.

“Stay here,” Gael said, rising from the floor. “Stay with him.”

The young intern lumbered down the hallway, the backpack still weighing her down. She rounded the corner, her fingers fumbling for her security card. A shrill alarm resounded off the walls, warning the other employees of a potential situation. Finally, she reached Room 111-D.

The door hung open, pale light creeping out of the room and falling against the white linoleum floor. Her breath seemed to have solidified in her throat. She fought to breathe with each vigilant step she took toward the room. Splotches of blood sullied the floor leading toward it. She shuddered, pausing outside the door.

Her hand shook, forsaking her outward calm, as she eased the door open wider. She took a cautious step inside. Her eyes roamed over the room, settling on Doctor Levinski.

A deep gash marred his left cheek, blood trickling from the wound and staining the white collar of his dress shirt. He startled at the sight of her; his mouth opened but no sound came out. She hurried toward him.

“Gordon, what happened? Where is –” She was halted by an iron grip around her waist. The color drained from her face as something cold and metallic came to rest against her neck. She gasped, panting in terror.

“Ne vous déplacez pas!” he warned, his voice soft, yet deep.

She was too afraid to speak, let alone fight. And unsure of what he demanded, she wasn’t going to take any chances. Her mind screamed for her to struggle, not only to escape, but for her life. Instead, she remained motionless, too afraid to do move or breathe. Even her heart seemed to stand still.

“Let her go,” Gordon demanded. “She is not a part of this!”

The Frenchman’s grip intensified. The only thing keeping her separated from him was the heavy backpack that she wore. She whimpered as the cold steel point grazed her jugular. A cold fear crept up her spine; she was too frightened to breathe. Gael felt herself being physically pulled out of the room. All the while, his hook remained at her neck, too close for comfort.

Visions of the night Chao-xing was assaulted by a patient clouded her mind. She recalled the same resounding alarm. Gael was still fresh to the hospital at that time, a fish thrown into a sea of sharks. The alarm then somehow didn’t seem as urgent as it did now. The erratic pulse of her heart thrummed loudly in her ears, deafening her to the warning cry that echoed through the hallways.

She met Doctor Levinski’s gaze, fear, stark and vivid, glittering in her eyes. He gave her a comforting look, a silent promise that he’d get her away from the patient – safely.

“I said, let her go!” he commanded once again. He raised a hand to swipe at the stream of blood laving the deep gash on his cheek.

“Non,” the one-armed Frenchman said in response. The muted florescent lighting of the hallway washed over them as he jerked her out of the room.

The blare of the alarm grew louder. Out of the corner of her eye, Gael noticed a line of security guards, weapons drawn. Fergus spotted them too because she was immediately reeled around to act as a shield between them. She stifled a frightened cry, her eyes frantically searching those of the armed security guards, silently begging them to rescue her.

“Please,” she pleaded, softly. She heard her voice, stifled and unnatural. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Get m’ out of here,” he whispered in her ear, his French brogue making the English words almost seem foreign. “I willna bring ye harm.”

She nodded woodenly, taking him at his word. Her feet faltered as she was walked backwards; her eyes darted from her former lover to the security guards, and back again. Even with his vow not to harm her, she still could not still the erratic beating of her heart. Gordon was pursuing, taking long even strides. He kept a noticeable distance, but he refused to let her out of his sight. Somehow, she felt comfort in that.

“Séjour en arrière!” he barked at the ensuing doctor, the hook crushed against her neck. She gasped, watching in horror as Doctor Levinski, a man she once loved, a man who she once longed to marry and start a family with, halted his steps. “Ne suivez pas ou je la tuerai!” He sounded more menacing now. She started to second-guess his intentions.

Gael once again wished she understood French. Because while he would speak plainly to her, he would speak only in French to the rest. And while a part of her wanted to know what he was telling them, the more rational part informed her that perhaps she was better off not knowing. One doesn’t like to know the details of what fate awaits them, after all. And if the cold, steel hook at her throat was any indication, she only hoped he would cut deep and true, giving her a quick and painless end.

His footsteps were quicker now. Her eyes pleaded silently with the security guards and with Gordon. Help me, dammit! But with each step, more distance was put between them. He jerked her around the corner, out of their line of vision.

She felt his grip on her loosen slightly; the pressure of his hook eased. He guided her down the hallway; all the while she kept her eyes trained on the corner. No one, not security, not Gordon, rounded it. The alarm was still blaring as they passed by her office door. She noticed Chao-xing, tending to the orderly. A shriek escaped from the petite intern as her almond shaped eyes locked with Gael’s. Fergus tensed, his hold on her strengthening once again.

“Séjour en arrière!” he warned her. Gael couldn’t help but cringe at his tone. It was the same warning he had given Doctor Levinski. Whatever it meant, she could tell he meant business. Doctor Fu made no attempt to move, caught up in her own fear.

The patient wrenched her back, hastening his steps. Gael’s feet once again stumbled at the sudden shift in motion. She regained her balance, in no part to the Frenchman's hold on her. The alarm continued to resonate as they passed by the front desk.

She could hear a soft whoosh as the sliding glass doors opened for them. The wind blasted against them as he maneuvered her out from under the awning and into the steadily falling rain. Large drops pelted against her body as he came to a stop, putting a small distance between her and the welcoming doors of the mental institute.

His grip slackened. Then he let her go completely. Without a second thought, she took off toward the hospital. She scurried through a deep puddle, the water splashing up on her leg. The backpack pounded against her back as she dashed toward the hospital. Biting her lip, she ignored the pain and pressed on. She hadn’t gone far when she was halted by an iron grip on her wrist.

Gael screamed, feeling her heart leap up to her throat. “Let me go!” she demanded, struggling with all her strength. Gotta get away. Just get away! She could feel the warmth of her tears as the slid down her cheeks, mingling with the cold raindrops. Fight. Dammit fight!

“I told ye I was no’ going t’ hurt ye,” he said with quiet emphasis. “And I dinna intend to.” He loosened his grip once more. It was a gesture of trust.

Run.

But she didn’t run. It was almost as if some unseen force held her in place. Cautiously, she turned her head, meeting his dark brown eyes. She swallowed a lump in her throat, her heart performing paroxysms in her chest.

“I need ye t’ help me.” His voice was calm, his gaze steady.

Gael spun completely around to face him. He was without a shirt. She noticed the rain bead against his muscular, yet slender chest. His black hair gleamed in the soft lights of the parking lot, the rain drenched curls clinging to his face. It was dark, but she could still make out his classically handsome features. He had a generous mouth and an aquiline nose. His eyes were a tawny shade of brown and were currently giving her a pleading look.

“Help you? You just held me hostage! You injured two of my colleagues!” Her green eyes clawed him like talons. She had found her voice. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m going to help you.”

“Ye dinna ken what they were doing t’ me, cheri.”

“Their job,” Gael retorted.

“Non!” His tone made her jump. He thrust his right arm out, revealing bruises from needle pricks where a sedative would have been administered. “They stick me and make me sleep. When they let m’ wake, I canna feel m’ own body. M’ head pains me here.” He used his hook and bushed his hair away from his left temple, revealing a reddened and bruised mark. “On th’ other side too.”

Gael gasped. “Mister Fraser, I’m not your doctor anymore.” She ran her fingers through her soaked blond tresses. “And after what you just pulled, what makes you even think I’d consider helping you?”

“Ye told me ye would.”

“Get better, maybe.” Always quick with a retort, she folded her arms in front of her chest. “I’m a doctor, just like them! I do what they do! Okay? I help crazy people, such as yourself, who are too fucked up in the head to even remember who they really are. They are trying to help you!”

“Ye are no’ like them, cheri.” He paused for a moment, glancing behind her at the doors of the hospital. “They will kill me if I go back. ‘Tis what they want t’ do t’ me. I wouldna ask ye t’ help if I kent I wasna in danger. I just need t’ find Milord. Aidez-moi.” His gaze lowered, as did his voice. “Please help me.”

His plea stirred something within her. The markings left on him from sedations and treatments weren’t normal. She knew that much. Her hands dropped to her sides as she lowered her gaze, watching the rain assault the surface of a puddle of water. She sighed and nodded, having a sudden change of heart. “Okay.”

Dropping one of the straps of her backpack, she reached into the front pocket and removed her car keys. The jangled loudly in her hand as she zipped up the pouch and returned it to her shoulders.

“Come on,” she said, stepping past him.

Fergus immediately fell into step behind her. “Merci,” he said, truly grateful. “I willna be a bother t’ ye. Ye willna e’en ken I am wi’ ye.”

Gael continued toward her car, closing her eyes and shaking her head. Somehow she doubted that. And still, something in her mind wondered if she was indeed making a grave mistake.

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