In His Wildest Dreams. Debbi Rawlins

simple words sound like a threat. “You got it.”

      God, she hoped he wasn’t talking about some heavy-duty sexual fantasies. For the sake of the study it would make the data both interesting and thorough, but good golly, what a torturous two weeks for her.

      She shuddered mentally, and then caught him staring toward the back. She followed his gaze. “What is it you find so fascinating?”

      Something that looked like guilt flickered in his eyes as they met hers. Just as quickly it vanished. “Keep any prisoners back there?”

      “Only ones who give me attitude.”

      “Oh man, Doc, you’re getting me excited.”

      She sighed. Obviously keeping this one on track would be a challenge. “Brenda said you have excellent recall. Do you use any particular method or trick?”

      “I read an article that suggested giving a title to a dream as soon as you remember any part of it.”

      “Does that help you recall more of the dream as the day goes on?”

      “Yeah, I think so. If it was a good dream, and my mind wanders back to it during the day, it seems to unfold more.”

      “Excellent. Keep a notebook with you.”

      “Right. Record everything.” His voice and expression turned grim. He started to shrug into his jacket, and Emma forced her gaze away from the way the muscles played across his chest. “So, we’re done?”

      She closed her notebook. “Yes.” She hadn’t even skimmed the surface, but maybe it was better he wasn’t so curious about her methods and theories. He was skittish enough. “Unless you have any questions.”

      He shrugged, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket. “Same time tomorrow, or do you want to get this over with earlier?”

      Gee, such overwhelming enthusiasm. “It’ll have to be the same time as today. I don’t get off work until then.”

      He nodded absently, looking distracted, before he walked out the door without another word.

      Emma waited a minute before she used the shiny base of the engraved brass stapler she’d received as an award to look at her reflection. Of course her image was slightly distorted, but still, her lips looked pretty normal to her. She pursed them. Maybe a little fatter than most, but…

      “Hey, Doc.”

      At the sound of Nick’s voice her heart nearly exploded and she straightened, almost flinging the stapler against the wall. “Yes?” Remarkably, her voice was intelligible.

      His brows drawn together in a puzzled frown, he seemed too absorbed in his own curiosity to have noticed her vanity. “I do have another question.” She nodded, and with his gaze narrowed he asked, “Are you sure there isn’t anyone else here?”

      Geez, talk about paranoid. “Positive.”

      He sent her a skeptical look, and then a lazy mysterious grin curved his mouth. “Okay, Doc, have it your way. For now.”

      3

      HOW THE HELL had he let Brenda talk him into this? Nick checked the rearview mirror to see if anyone had entered the deserted parking lot. Okay, so he was early and the doc had probably just gotten off her shift. He’d have to remember to ask Brenda what kind of work Emma did. Not that he really cared but if she was going to be poking around his head, he figured he had a right to know something about her.

      He stared down at the notes he’d taken from last night’s midnight romp. Here he’d purposely instructed himself not to dream and he’d ended up having a couple of doozies…about naked women with long dark hair, long legs and silk thongs.

      Shit!

      He glanced at the rearview mirror again and this time an older, beat-up white sedan chugged into the parking lot. Doc was behind the wheel. He couldn’t see her face, but he saw the mass of shiny dark hair. Since he was the only one there, he had to suspect she’d seen him, but without any acknowledgment she veered off toward the side of the building and parked out of sight.

      A few minutes later, she hurried around the corner, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, the collar of her long tan coat pulled up around her neck. Odd. It had warmed up and wasn’t cold enough for her to be wearing a coat.

      He continued to watch as she made tracks in the opposite direction, nearly running into the pink azaleas flanking the stark white lab. If she’d seen him, she was pretending she hadn’t.

      He got out of his Porsche. “Hey, Doc.”

      She slowed, reluctance in every small jerk of her body as she turned around. “Sorry, I’m running late again,” she called out, slightly breathless.

      “You’re not. I’m early.” He closed the car door.

      “Give me five minutes, okay?”

      “All right if I wait inside?”

      She touched the back of her hair, and quickly tucked up a stray. “Um, why don’t I make sure things aren’t a mess. Someone else used the lab after we did yesterday.”

      He snorted. “You should see my place.”

      She looked hesitant, and then he got it. Maybe she had to get her friend out the back door, although why the cloak-and-dagger was a mystery to him.

      “Damn, I forgot something.” He opened his car door. “Can we make it ten minutes?”

      “No problem.”

      He got into the Porsche and watched her unlock the lab door and then hurry inside without a backward glance. He didn’t bother to start the engine, but waited until the door closed before he got out and strolled around to the back.

      No one was there. He started to wait but then noticed there was no back door. He kept walking until he’d made a circle around the small building. Only one door. Obviously the woman had still been inside while he met with Emma. But why would she lie about someone else being there? It didn’t make sense. Unless Doc thought he’d get testy about the confidentiality issue. That was possible.

      He gave her a couple of extra minutes before he went inside with the leather binder of notes he’d taken. She was ready for him, sitting at her desk, her glasses perched on her nose, a notebook in front of her, and a tape recorder set on the opposite edge of the desk, closer to the guest chair. Presumably where he would sit.

      Man, everything he said was going to be on tape. Immortalized. They would have to discuss that.

      “Have a seat.” Those great lips lifted into a tempting smile, and he almost forgot about the tape recorder. “I see you have some notes.”

      “Man, do I. It’s amazing I got any sleep at all last night.”

      She laughed. “Everyone dreams quite a lot. We just aren’t all lucky enough to remember the details.”

      “Well, Doc, I’m not sure you’re going to want all these details.” He opened the binder and flipped through pages and pages of writing.

      “Excellent.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m impressed.”

      “Don’t be. You probably won’t want all this stuff.”

      “Are you kidding? This much recall is a gold mine.”

      He wasn’t so sure. “Do I just give this to you, or what?”

      She seemed surprised. “No, you have to describe the dreams in as much detail as possible.”

      “What do you think all this is?”

      She gave him a small tolerant smile that annoyed him. “A reminder for you. I promise that as you relate the events of the dream, you’ll begin to recall other details. There is nothing unimportant. Once you begin, keep talking. Let it all flow.”

      Hell,