Free Incubus by Janet Elizabeth Jones Page A

Where did you say your clinic is?”
    Neshi went to the fire and warmed his hands. Immaculate hands, large like Meical’s, only darker. “I didn’t say.”
    He said it with such finality that Caroline got the idea she wasn’t to ask him again. “And you’re his family’s physician?”
    â€œThey put him in my care to avoid having to commit him.”
    Commit him? Caroline opened her mouth to scoff at Neshi, but all she could think of was the enormous strength and out-of-control rage she’d witnessed in Meical when he’d attacked Hicks.
    She sank down to sit beside Meical and took his hand. Extending one crutch to fork the blanket up from thehearthrug, she spread it over him. If he had turned out to be alone, really and truly, she could have helped him. But family ties meant connections, and connections meant she could be found.
    Yet her compassion—and every inch of her body—screamed, Do it. Help him. Take him. Claim him.
    What was she thinking? She absolutely would not, could not get involved. She rubbed her temples, feeling dazed. The fire’s heat reached her, hotter than it should be.
    Trust him. You want to. You need to. Give in.
    The glow from the flickering flames danced in Meical’s golden hair, and his pale skin took on a swarthy copper look. His luscious mouth parted. In repose, he looked so sensitive. So in need. A weakness stole through her, bringing thoughts that made her face burn.
    She hadn’t thought of making love to anyone since Rivera’s men had attacked her. Loving someone was a haven she’d never know again. It wasn’t fair to Meical to pin her attraction on him. She couldn’t follow through, and he obviously had enough of his own concerns.
    She rose and sat down in her armchair to put some distance between them. “Tell me what he’s been through, Doctor. What caused his problems?”
    â€œMeical has lived with one foot in darkness and one foot in light, and between the two, he feels constantly called to return to something old and long ago.” Neshi leaned against the mantel and ran a finger over her paperbacks. “He remains caught there, somewhere in his past. His grasp on the here and now is such that it wasonly a matter of time before he suffered a breakdown. He’s emotionally unpredictable and subject to…an unusual psychosis.”
    Unusual psychosis? She’d helped patients through everything in the book. How unusual could it be? There was something Neshi wasn’t telling her.
    â€œCome on, you know as well as I do he’s suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder. He has all the symptoms. And don’t talk to me about his grasp on reality because that’s more a matter of being oversensitive to emotion than a mental imbalance. He’s trying to escape something, yes, but PTSD doesn’t just happen out of the blue. Meical has been through a crisis of some kind. What happened to him?”
    â€œI think it would disturb Meical for me to discuss that with you. He’s done things, you see, things he’s not proud of.”
    Like nearly kill people? Would he have killed Mr. Hicks if she hadn’t been there to stop him? Caroline sighed. “Has he tried group therapy? I’ve seen it alleviate some of the struggle with PTSD.”
    Neshi shook his head. “He doesn’t play well with others.”
    That didn’t surprise her. Caroline looked down at Meical again. She could help him. She knew she could. Trauma was her specialty. Not to mention the fact that she understood Meical’s response to whatever he’d been through. He was an empath. Empaths were, by their very nature, emotionally sensitive and reality-challenged.
    But there were a hundred reasons why volunteering her services would be a stupid mistake. Burke wasonly one. The best reason of all was Meical himself. She didn’t need to encourage herself in his direction. To say that she