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 Leave me alone. He didn t say the words loud enough for anyone to hear.
 I d prefer it if you opened the door to me yourself, but I will be coming in. At least the
guy wasn t laughing anymore.
He dried his face off, met his own eyes in the mirror. Control. Focus. All he had to do
was get out of here in one piece.
Then, he opened the door.
Lutrell beamed at him, clapping.  Excellent! I m so glad you chose to come out on your
own. Please, join me on the couch. You must be hungry, thirsty. I want to know how you re
feeling.
 I m going home. He didn t want to talk. He wouldn t eat. He wanted & he wanted out.
 Oh, no. Lutrell giggled.  Forty eight hours, Mal said. The boss-man will be unhappy if
I let you leave so early.
 I don t have a boss. He was the boss. He needed to get out of here.
Lutrell s head tilted to the side.  No? Are you sure?
 Of course I m sure. Wasn t he?
He was given another giggle and handed a glass of juice.  Please. Sit, drink. Don t make
me ask you again.
His temper flared, dark and sharp.  Am I supposed to be frightened?
 Not of me, no. Those blue eyes looked at him, looked into him.  No, not of me.
He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable, unnerved. Unsure for the first time in
years. He should never have come here.
 So you re not frightened. Tell me, what are you feeling? Lutrell picked up a glass of
juice, drinking a good half of it in one long swallow, his Adam s apple working like it had
when &
Dent bolted. He didn t even think about the fact that he was naked or unsure exactly
where he was. He just ran. Lutrell didn t follow him, but then when he got to the door he found
out why. It was locked.
 Only my palmprint will open it, Lutrell called from the couch.
 No. Okay. There had to be somewhere he could go. Hide. Be.
 Yes. Is it so terrible, having to talk to me? Or is it what you are feeling that has you
fleeing? Those blue eyes were boring a hole into his ass.
 I won t do this. He couldn t.
 All right, we can go back to the table, then.
 I need you to leave me alone. He needed time. Space. Help.
 I will. In &  Lutrell looked at the little clock hanging by the door.  Forty-five hours,
give or take.
 No. Only three hours. Only three hours.
Lutrell giggled, the sound bitten off.  You keep saying that.
 I mean it. He did.
Lutrell nodded.  Your mind does. But your body knows. It knows.
 I need to get out of here. He met Lutrell s eyes, desperate.
 No, my dear. You need to stop denying who you are. Lutrell s eyes looked into him
again, through him, it felt like.
 Stop it. You don t know me. Hell, he wasn t sure he knew himself right now.
 I think maybe that s the problem, my dear. I do know you. Better than you know
yourself. Those eyes were relentless, watching him.
 You ve just met me.
 Yes, giggled Lutrell.  Just imagine how much more I ll know after two days.
Maybe Dent should just kill him. Or knock him out and use the man s hand on the lock.
 Are you sure you don t want any juice? You need to replenish your fluids.
 I don t. His stomach growled audibly, angry.
Lutrell chuckled and picked up a piece of citrus fruit. The man bit into half and ate it,
then passed it to him.  There. Now you know it isn t drugged.
Dent took it, ate, the tart sweetness making him hungry for more. Lutrell picked up
another piece, ate half and passed him the other half. A smile quirked the thin lips.  You ll make
me fat if this is the only way you ll eat.
That actually amused him and he swallowed a chuckle.
Lutrell giggled.  You need to laugh more. It would do you a world of good.
 You laugh enough for a thousand men.
 Laughter is the best medicine, my dear. Lutrell chuckled.  A cliché, a silliness, I know.
But it s true. I m a doctor, I know these things.
 Then you must be well-medicated. I need to go to my quarters. You ve ruined my
clothing.
 You don t need clothes if you stay here. I keep it quite warm. And I m not finished with
you yet. I still have time.
He really was going to explode and hurt someone. Truly. He turned on his heel and
headed back to the room where his pants were. He d comm Herc and explain the simple fact that
he wanted out of here.
He was almost there when he stopped, pacing from one door to another like an agitated
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