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This was all wrong, spinning out of control in a slow-motion haze.

Damn it to hell.

Chapter seven

Isabella crouched in front of me, the injector still in her hand. She traced the tip of it along the edge of my jaw and down my throat.

No panic showed on her face now. No worry furrowed her brow. Her eyes were no longer wide and nervous, searching mine for safety. The woman who had come apart in my arms and whispered thank you was gone, and the one staring back at me wore a satisfied smirk.

My stomach dropped harder than my body had.

She set the injector on the table and picked up my phone.

“Let’s see how observant I’ve been,” she said.

She leaned over me and held the phone in front of me.

“First, the face,” she said.

I tried to turn away. The command fired in my head and died somewhere before it reached my neck. The screen recognized me and opened.

She made a soft, pleased hum as Nik’s security app opened. A grid of dots filled the screen.

“And now, the pattern matrix.” She angled the phone so I could see it, picked up my hand, and dragged my finger across the dots. “Down the left side. Across the bottom. Back up through the center. Across. Up. Back across the top.”

The app opened.

She smiled down at me. “Too easy. Seriously, Lachlan, you couldn’t do better than that?”

I’d drawn that pattern in front of her twice without thinking. Once in the kitchen. Once near the sofa.

I’d been watching her face.

She’d been watching my hands.

Fuck me.

She had access now.

She smiled wider. “There we are.”

My tongue pushed against the inside of my mouth, fighting to shape words that refused to come. I couldn’t lift my hand. Couldn’t reach her throat. Couldn’t knock the phone away.

I could only watch while she typed from my account.

She’s packing a few last things. Give us 10.

She held the phone, waiting.

Rory answered.

Copy.

Nik came in right after him.

Five.

Isabella’s mouth curved. “Generous.”