Free Stronger Than Sin by Caridad Piñeiro Page B

“Lost a bundle on that last playoff game thanks to you,”
     Bruno said and quickly undid the rest of the restraints.
    Bruno left them and took up a spot right outside the door.
    Jesse gingerly sat up, his bones and muscles protesting the movement. When he got vertical, the room started to spin wildly.
     He pressed fists to his head and leaned his elbows on his thighs to try and regain balance.
    Liliana was immediately before him. “Take a slow breath and hold it.”
    He did as she instructed and then repeated the process until the room stabilized. Then he straightened and glanced at her,
     meeting her concerned gaze.
    “Thanks.”
    “Do you think you can walk around?” Her eyes narrowed as she considered him, clearly doubtful.
    “I think I can,” he said, and with great care, and one hand on the mattress to steady himself, he slowly stood. As soon as
     he was on his feet, she slipped beneath his one arm, offering support as he took his first hesitant step and then a second.
    Hips bumping yet again, reminding him of her assistance the other day and his dreams of the night before. Bringing that same
     unwanted reaction to her nearness, only today it was even worse. He was more aware of the feminine feel of her and her scent,
     alluring beneath the vanilla-almond smells of hand wash.
    He breathed in that scent deeply, hungry for it after so much time alone.
    “Are you okay?” she asked as she noted his exaggerated inhalations.
    “Fine. I think I can do this by myself now.” He shifted away from her. From her natural perfume and the enticement of her
     body.
    With any other woman all he would have to do was flash an inviting smile and they’d be in bed, but he suspected Liliana wasn’t
     like the other women he’d had in his life.
    He faced her and raised his arms over his head, twined his fingers together, and pressed upward, attempting to alleviate the
     stiffness in his muscles and joints. Part of it was due to his inactivity, but he suspected a larger part of it was a by-product
     of the Wardwell genes in his body.
    “You’re looking better,” she said as she returned to the bed and opened her medical bag.
    “Feeling better,” he confirmed and walked to her side, where he waited for her instruction.
    “Would you mind sitting down again so I can tend to those abrasions, get some more blood and skin samples?”
    He eased back down onto the edge of the bed and held out his arm. “You wouldn’t be a vampire, would you? Because you sure
     seem to need a lot of blood.”
    An inviting flush erupted across her cheeks, and herhand trembled against his skin while she wrapped the rubber hose around his bicep. “I’m sorry, Jesse. We’re seeing a big difference
     between your blood and Caterina’s. We need to figure out why.”
    “Caterina?” He tried to recall the other patients who had been with him. A face popped into memory. Beautiful and haunted.
    “I remember her. She escaped the night Dr. Wells was killed.”
    Liliana paused with the needle right on his skin. “How do you know that?”
    “I was fighting with another patient. A big hulking guy—”
    “Rob Santiago. The police think he killed Dr. Wells,” she said and finally pricked his skin to draw the blood.
    Jesse nodded, remembering the immense man prone to incredible, nearly uncontrollable bouts of rage. The one difference between
     their fits of anger—Santiago seemed to get off on the violence.
    “Wells came in when Morales had us fighting. Morales liked to do that—pit us against each other as if we were junkyard dogs,”
     he said, recalling the little scientist’s vicious fun.
    Liliana finished drawing the blood, slipped an alcohol-soaked cotton ball on the wound, and urged his arm upward to apply
     pressure. Then she began tending to the abrasions on his ankles and wrists. “So you were fighting with Santiago?”
    “At first the sparring was just to satisfy Morales. But when Wells came in that night, I knew something was up. Wells