About Last Night...

“Isn’t your best man that dreamy Jack Stillman?”

“He was. But Jack disappeared, so Steve asked Jack’s brother, Derek, to stand in.”

“Is he gorgeous too? And single?”

Her head had started to throb again. “Marie, I didn’t call to discuss the Stillman gene pool. I called to see if you would come to pick me up. I left my purse under the front seat of your car and I have no money and no key.”

“Well, sure I’ll come back, but don’t you want to wait for Steve?”

“I don’t think so.” She wasn’t sure she could go through with her plan to seduce Steve with the memory of another man’s mouth on hers so fresh in her mind.

“You lost your buzz, ergo your nerve.”

“Well—”

“Janine, if you come home, you won’t be any closer to the answer you went for.”

The sick feeling of anguish settled in her stomach again, but she appreciated her sister’s objectivity, quirky as it was. “You’re right, but Derek said the guys are supposed to be out all night.”

“Okay, so you wait in Steve’s room until morning.” Marie laughed. “That is, unless you think he won’t do it in the daylight.”

Janine tried to smile, but she felt too disjointed to respond.

“Oh, wait,” her sister said. “You said that the best man is staying in Steve’s room.”

“No,” Janine said morosely. “He left.”

“Left to go to another hotel?”

“No,” she said, swinging her gaze toward the revolving door. Flashing lights outside the front entrance caught her attention. Two ambulances and several police cars had arrived, along with a van that bore a familiar insignia: the Centers for Disease Control. A knot of people stood outside, as if in conference, and she recognized the general manager she’d been talking to earlier as one them. The revolving door turned and, to her amazement, Derek walked back in, his expression as dark as a thundercloud.

“He’s back,” she said into the phone.

“Steve?”

“No, Derek. Hang on a minute, sis. Something is happening in the lobby.” With every turn of the door, more and more suited and uniformed personnel filtered into the lobby of the hotel. Mr. Oliver walked in, and his smooth face seemed especially serious.

A terrible sense of foreboding enveloped her. Janine waved at Derek and motioned him toward her. He seemed none too pleased to see her again, but he did walk toward where she stood, his gait long and agitated.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

Derek gestured in the air above his head. “I don’t know. A deputy said I couldn’t leave and asked me to come back inside.”

A man in a dark suit and no tie lifted a small bullhorn to his mouth. “Could I have your attention, please?”

The lobby quieted, and for the first time, Janine realized just how crowded the expansive space had become. Her lungs squeezed and she breathed as steadily as she could, trying to hedge the feeling of claustrophobia. Standing next to Derek didn’t help because his big body crowded her personal space. She stepped as far away from him as the metal phone cord would allow, which garnered her a sharp look from his brown eyes. With much effort, she resisted the urge to explain and gave the doctor her full attention.

The man had paused for effect, sweeping his gaze over the room. “My name is Dr. Marco Pedro, and I’m with the Centers for Disease Control here in Atlanta. As you can see, several dozen people have been stricken with an illness we are still trying to identify. With a recent outbreak of E. coli contagion on the west side of town, we can’t be too careful.”

Janine’s knees weakened with dread. Because of her medical training, she knew what the man’s next words would be.

“So, until further notice,” Dr. Pedro continued, “guests cannot leave the premises. Every individual in this facility is officially under quarantine.”

5

JANINE’S HEART dropped to her stomach. “A quarantine?” she whispered. This can’t be happening. Next to her, Derek muttered a healthy oath that corresponded with the collective groan that went up throughout the lobby.

“Janine,” Marie said in her ear. “What’s going on?”

“The CDC just put the place under quarantine,” she croaked. “I’ll call you back.” Then she hung up the phone unceremoniously.

“Was that Steve?” Derek asked.

“No, my sister,” she replied, distracted by the uproar.

Angry guests were on their feet, firing questions at the doctor:

“For how long?”

“But I have to leave tomorrow!”

“Am I dying?”

Dr. Pedro held up his hands. “One at a time. We will answer your questions as soon as possible. The symptoms at this time don’t appear to be life-threatening. For obvious reasons, we don’t know how long the quarantine will last, but I estimate you’ll be detained for at least forty-eight hours.”

“Oh no,” Janine murmured, and the lobby erupted into more chaos. A few people tried to make a run for the exits, but security guards had already been posted. Her heart tripped faster when she realized she was confined to the building, and might be for some time—a claustrophobe’s nightmare.

“There is no need to panic,” the doctor continued in a raised, but soothing voice. “Believe me, ladies and gentleman, the quarantine is for your own protection and for the protection of the people outside these walls with whom you would otherwise come into contact.”

As a health professional, Janine knew her first concern should be her own welfare and the safety of those around her, but as a bride-to-be, her thoughts turned to wedding invitations, ceremony programs and honeymoon reservations, all with a big red Cancel stamped on them. She swayed and reached for something to steady herself, meeting soft cotton and solid muscle.

“Easy,” Derek said, righting her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “But my mother is going to have a stroke. We’ll have to postpone the wedding.”

One corner of his mouth slid back. “Gee, and the rest of us only have to worry about a slow, painful death from a mysterious disease.”

Remorseful, she opened her mouth to recant, but the doctor spoke again.

“Please, everyone return to your rooms immediately. If you need assistance, ask anyone who is wearing a white coat or a yellow armband. If you develop symptoms, call the front desk and leave a message, a doctor or nurse will be with you soon. Medical personnel will be canvassing the hotel room by room to ensure no potential case is overlooked. We’ll keep everyone updated as the situation progresses. We’d like to have this area cleared. After that, do not leave your room unless you are given permission by a person wearing a yellow armband.”

Now she knew what it felt like to be hit by a truck and live, Janine decided. So many emotions bombarded her, she didn’t know what to feel first—outrage that her life would have to be rescheduled, fear that she’d been exposed to a dangerous contaminant, or panic that she was expected to spend at least the next forty-eight hours in close quarters with a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who had been vocal about the fact that he didn’t want to be here at all.

A sentiment now reinforced by his brooding expression. His jaw was dark from the shadow of his beard, his eyes bloodshot and his nose irritated.

“You look terrible,” she said without thinking.

The sarcastic glance he shot her way made even her creeping panties seem comfortable by comparison. In a dismissive move, he picked up his suitcase and joined the throng moving toward the elevator and the stairs.