Page 59 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“I’m helping Cora, Theo, you know that,” she moved to the side, and Theo mirrored her, blocking her path.

“She can survive one day without you. You’re not well,” he insisted.

“I’m fine, and if you think you can boss me around like that Dr Smythe you’ve got another thing coming. Now move.” She tried to push past but Theo stood his ground.

“Verity…”

“Theodor!” she snapped with enough venom to make him flinched.

The black smudges beneath her bloodshot glare made her face seem even paler. Washing the ruined makeup from her face hadn’t been easy but it seemed to soothe her. The little sighs she made every time he swiped the cloth over her salty skin were as intoxicating as they were heartbreaking. She should be mad at him. This was his fault; he was supposed to take care of her. To protect her.

“Just,” he started, eyes trailing to the floor. “Just tell me what you remember. I need to know what happened, then I’ll drive you home.”

Verity’s arms wrapped around herself as she shrugged. “I don’t know. I was fine one minute, then…”

“You were drinking champagne…” Theo prompted. A half-full glass sat in front of her when he arrived and no way had she nursed her drink for that long.

“Err… yeah. Sienna brought it. She had a glass too, though.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah, she’s Harris‘ donor.”

Nothing could calm the growl blooming in his chest. Harris’s donor drugged Verity. Making his life hell at work was one thing but this…

“Theo?” Verity asked, and he swallowed a snarl before going on.

“Did she do anything? Say anything?”

Verity watched him, brow furrowed, before massaging her temples. He should have found her some painkillers.

“I don’t know… I… you think she…” She looked down, biting her lip. “She asked about you, about us. Wanting to know if you talked to me about work. She said that donor numbers were down.”

That fucking psycho. Theo was going to kill him. How dare he drag Verity into his conspiracies.

“What did she mean?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, turning to find his jacket and keys.

“Theo?”

“It’s nothing. He’s got the idea into his head that the exchange doesn’t have enough donors, but he’s got no proof. It’s make-believe.”

“But why is he saying it then? Why drug me for information?”

“I don’t know,” he grunted. “But I’ll fucking find out.”

He gave Verity a pair of socks when they couldn’t find her shoes and she refused to be carried. Making their way down the service stairs he’d carried her up from the car park, he watched her like a hawk. Every few steps she swayed, clinging to the railing while he kicked stones off the metal stairs to save her feet.

The drive to her house was silent. He wanted to reach out, take her hand in his and promise he’d fix this, but why would she believe him? The damage was done. He took her into that den of vipers and abandoned her when she needed him.

It took less than ten minutes for her to wash and dress before she was back in the car, and they were on their way to her friend’s café. He understood why she insisted on going in and helping Cora. That didn’t mean that he liked it.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said, pulling up at the end of the street. “I mean it. If that woman tries to contact, you…”

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted.

“Just call me,” he begged.