Double Dose

By Katie Allen

Previously published under a different title

A double dose of happily-ever-after…

Speech therapist Daphne’s neat, orderly life takes a turn for the dramatic when she’s kidnapped and spirited away to a hideout deep in the Colorado mountains. Her captors? Gorgeous men—all escaped from a secret laboratory designed to build perfect supersoldiers.

Trauma associated with his engineering left Benjy mute, and Ari thinks Daphne’s just the girl to help him recover. Held against her will, Daphne will be damned before she helps any of them—regardless of how electrifying she finds their touches.

But as Daphne’s hunger for Benjy and Ari grows, so does her empathy for the other soldiers hiding out at the lodge. With danger from her own past threatening to resurface and an overeager FBI agent sniffing around, she needs to free herself, her men and the others.

This book is approximately 65,000 words

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carina Press
• Release date: Oct 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781488081095

Katie Allen

Katie Allen is the fabulously filthy-minded alter-ego of romantic-suspense author Katie Ruggle. She lived in an off-grid, solar- and wind-powered house in the Rocky Mountains until her family lured her back to Minnesota. A police academy graduate, Katie is a self-professed forensics nerd. A fan of anything that makes her feel like a bad-ass, she has trained in Krav Maga, boxing, and gymnastics. Connect with Katie at katieruggle.com, or on Twitter @KatieRuggle

Book preview

Chapter One

Daphne’s whole life revolved around talking, around the science of moving the mouth and lips and tongue in just the right way to make sounds other people could understand. She’d gone to school for a ridiculous amount of time and worked with patient after patient for years, first as a student and then as a full-fledged speech-language pathologist at the clinic.

Despite all that, this man took away her words.

It wasn’t just that he was hot, as in incredibly, mind-erasingly hot. There was something about him that just drew her. He could have easily played the leading role in an action movie, with his chiseled jaw and ice-blue eyes. A black stocking hat covered his head, and his fleece-lined flannel shirt muffled the lines of his arms and chest, but Daphne knew, just knew, that all the hidden parts were just as beautiful as those exposed.

Longing surged through her, but it was quickly shut down by a wall of guilt.

She frowned. There was no reason to feel guilty anymore. She could ogle any gorgeous man she wanted to ogle. It was over—a year of dating and three months of being engaged were done.

Brett had left Denver weeks ago, taking his clients’ money with him but leaving her behind.

Despite the ex part of her ex-fiancé, this man was so beyond her realm of possibility. She was pretty enough, but ever since she’d skipped ahead two grades in elementary school, it seemed the social cues involved in being popular had always escaped her. The few friends and fewer boyfriends she’d had before Brett had fallen squarely in the nerd spectrum. Brett, with his runner’s body and white smile, had been the hottest guy to ever even look at her twice. Unfortunately, it had taken her more than a year to discover the reason behind that second look.

The stranger was staring at her, standing stock-still by the door of her waiting room. The clinic’s receptionist, Jan, had turned off the majority of the lights when she and the other staff members had left at five-thirty, so the man was blanketed in shadow. She wondered for a moment how hot he’d be in the full light but shook the thought from her mind. There were more important things to consider, such as the fact that she was alone with this huge, rough-looking stranger in an abandoned waiting room, next to a door Jan always locked each night before leaving.

She was tempted to take a step back, but she squashed her instinctual alarm. Jan had most likely forgotten to lock the door, and this poor man probably thought Daphne was a crazy woman because of the way she was silently standing and staring at him.

Clearing her throat, she broke the silence. Can I help you?

Dr. Dahl? His voice was delicious, deep and smooth. Her name also sent a wash of relief through her. He was just a potential patient who’d come through an accidentally unlocked door after hours.

Yes. She put on her professional smile, stepped forward, and reached out her hand for him to shake. Were you waiting long? Office hours have actually been over for a while. The receptionist must have forgotten to lock the door when she left.

He held her hand, pulling her toward him. No.

She cocked her head, her smile wavering as she was drawn even closer to his mountainous form. You weren’t waiting long?

No. She didn’t forget.

When the words finally penetrated, it was too late. A large hand pressed a cloth against her nose and mouth. Before she could open her lips to scream, everything disappeared into darkness.

* * *

This is fucked-up, A.

What?

What do you mean ‘what?’ You can’t just drag a woman here against her will! Jesus Christ!

She came highly recommended.

I’m not questioning her credentials, you moronic asshole. If you wanted Benjy to see her, you bring him to her office like a fucking sane person. You don’t knock her out and kidnap her!

Sure. We could’ve just taken a nice trip to Denver each week, shown our faces to every security camera in and around the clinic, gotten all the employees and patients interested in us. That would’ve worked really fucking well.

The words thundered through her brain, dragging her out of the gray fog where she was floating. She jerked awake, her eyes popping open. A high-pitched sound squeaked its way out of her throat, a sound that would’ve been a scream if she hadn’t just woken from a drugged sleep.

It was as if she were starring in the extra-large version of Snow White, with giants instead of dwarves. Sucking in a breath that rasped against her dry throat, she tried to scramble backward as well as she could with limbs that refused to obey her brain’s commands. The men surrounding her drew back when she moved, although there were still too many of them standing way too close.

She recognized the man from her office but the other five faces were new to her. There were two women there too, although they stood several steps back from the encircling men. Daphne was on a quilt-covered king-size bed and, to her relief, still fully clothed. Even the charm bracelet Brett had given her still jangled against her wrist. In her attempt to get away, she plastered her back against the rustic-looking headboard and drew her knees to her chest.

A frantic glance around the room revealed she was in the loft of what appeared to be a cabin, judging by the light pine log walls and exposed beams. She must’ve been out all night, since sunlight was streaming through the sliding glass doors leading to a balcony. Opposite the glass doors was a railing running almost the full length of one side of the loft, with only the top of a spiral staircase interrupting the line.

After a quick look around, her gaze snapped back to the people crowding the bed.

Give her some freaking room, guys, one of the women ordered, giving Daphne what was probably supposed to be a comforting smile. The woman fit in the surreal Snow White tableau, as she looked the part, with black hair and blue eyes. Did Snow White have blue eyes? Daphne knew the character had black hair and white skin and red lips, but did the fairy tale even mention eye color?

She shook her head to refocus her wandering thoughts and winced at the painful throb.

Headache? A blond guy held out an uncapped bottle of water. Your mouth is probably dry too.

She stared at it and then flicked a glance at him.

What? he asked, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he looked from the water bottle to her.

The Snow White lookalike snorted. "Unlike you, Darwin, she’s obviously not an idiot. Why would she drink something given to her by the guys who just drugged her?"

Christ, Lauren, don’t lump me in with that dumbass, one of the dark-haired guys grumbled, jerking his head at the guy who’d shown up at her office. Ari was the one who did the drugging and kidnapping and shit. Leave the rest of us fucking out of it.

Daphne blinked. If she were naming the dwarves, she’d call that one Swearie. Or maybe Sir Curse-a-Lot. Squeezing her eyes closed, she shut down that mental tangent. She needed to focus on the situation and how to get out of it.

What... Her throat protested, and she tried to swallow. The blond giant was right, damn him and his tempting water. Her mouth was painfully dry.

Here. The other woman worked her way into the circle of men, holding out another water bottle. This one hasn’t been opened.

Hypothetically speaking, though, you could have injected something through the plastic, if you really wanted to drug her, Lauren said casually. "I mean, just having the cap on doesn’t really mean it’s safe."

Daphne had been reaching for the bottle but, at that, jerked her hand back.

Fuck, Laur, Sir Curse-a-Lot groaned. The rest of the dwarves just glared at her.

The woman—Lauren—clapped a hand over her mouth. Sorry, she mumbled through her fingers.

Here. The blond who’d originally offered her water—what had Lauren called him? Darwin?—grabbed the bottle and turned it upside down. If there were any puncture holes, water would come out when I squeezed, see? After holding it a moment to demonstrate, he righted it and held it out to her.

Too thirsty to really care at this point, she took the bottle. It would almost be a relief to be drugged again and unconscious and oblivious to all this insanity. She’d never been kidnapped before, so she didn’t have any firsthand experience to use as a comparison, but she was pretty sure this was not a run-of-the-mill abduction.

Her hand shook as she twisted off the cap. She raised the bottle to her lips and then paused, looking around at the circle of people all watching her take a drink.

Everyone out, Ari, her kidnapper, ordered abruptly, startling her into spilling the water down her front.

We can’t leave her alone with the guy who drugged and kidnapped her, a man with big brown eyes who hadn’t spoken yet said.

You can. Ari stared him down until Darwin stepped between them.

Enough, A, the blond growled. Tom has a point. The poor thing just woke up in an unfamiliar place with a bunch of strangers. Leaving her alone with the guy who knocked her out and dragged her here probably isn’t the best idea.

One of the guys tapped on the footboard, bringing everyone’s attention to him. Despite her current circumstances, Daphne couldn’t help but notice the way his hair fell around his face in tousled strands the color of darkly stained wood. His eyes, a greenish hazel, peered out of the mop in a way that reminded her of a wild creature peeking out of the underbrush. In this land of giants, he looked slight, although he was probably above average height and the lines of his muscles filled out his clothes like a Calvin Klein model’s would.

Fine. Benjy will stay too, Ari said, his voice breaking her fascinated scrutiny.

After some muttering amongst themselves, the others seemed to accept this compromise and moved toward the stairs. She felt an odd pang watching the others leave, as if her only allies in this crazy, messed-up situation were abandoning her. They, at least, didn’t seem to agree with the whole kidnapping thing. By the time Daphne managed to take a drink of her water, just the three of them remained in the loft.

Her gaze flicked between the two men and the stairs, her mind racing as she judged the distance between the bed and freedom. As if he could read her thoughts, Ari stepped sideways, putting his huge bulk between her and the top of the stairs. Benjy stayed next to the foot of the bed, watching her silently. Since flight didn’t appear to be an option, maybe she could talk her way out of this.

Why am I here? Her voice, although a little rusty, sounded deceptively steady. A far corner of Daphne’s brain made a mental note to be proud of that later.

Ari studied her for a long moment, his thick arms crossed over his chest, before jerking his chin in the other man’s direction. B can’t talk.

He seemed to be waiting for a response, so Daphne nodded uncertainly.

I did some research. Your name kept coming up.

Research? she said slowly. This really was the strangest kidnapping ever.

It was Ari’s turn to nod. I was looking for someone to help Benjy. I found you.

She was silent, trying to absorb this information. But...why didn’t you just come to the clinic? She paused, since he had visited the clinic, even if it was just to kidnap her. Or, you know, make an appointment? Like a normal, non-insane person.

Not an option. He bit off the words as if they tasted bad.

Frowning, Daphne rubbed shaking fingers against her temple. The more confused she got, the worse the pain pounded inside her skull. Why?

By the hard set of his jaw, she knew she wasn’t going to get an answer.

You know this is crazy, right? Her steady tone had dissolved into a shaky mess. You can’t just kidnap me and expect me to help you!

You can leave when you fix him.

Her mouth gaped open, and she stared at him. Moving her flabbergasted gaze to Benjy, she saw he’d dropped his chin and was staring at the foot of the bed.

What? Fix him? He doesn’t have a broken leg, she protested when she finally regained her voice. I can’t just wave a magic wand and make him talk. Depending on what the issue is, it could take years to make even a slight improvement.

Ari frowned at her. I’ve read the studies on aphasia. If you work with him every day for three hours, he should show marked improvement within a couple months.

She shook her head. That study was done on recent stroke victims. Turning to Benjy, she asked, Did you have a stroke?

He studied her for a minute before giving a short shake of his head and dropping his gaze. Despite the bizarre circumstances of this meeting, her professional curiosity was triggered. Talking about speech problems soothed her, making her almost able to pretend they were all in the cozy safety of her office. She crossed her legs like a kindergartner at story time and leaned forward a little.

Was your aphasia caused by a brain injury?

Benjy hesitated and then gave a small shrug, not meeting her eyes.

He had brain surgery a couple of years ago, Ari answered for him. It happened a few months after that.

A few months? Her eyebrows flew up. Was it a gradual decrease in language skills?

Although she’d asked Benjy, the other man answered for him again. No. It was sudden. There was an...incident. He got knocked on the head. After that, he didn’t talk.

What did the doctors say?

When Benjy’s face got tight, she glanced at Ari and winced at his glare.

"The doctors didn’t share any information," he finally said, sounding as if he were talking through clenched teeth.

Her forehead scrunched in confusion. "But...why wouldn’t they share information? It’s his head, after all. Was he underage? How old are you, Benjy?"

He just gave another half-shrug, looking away again.

Twenty-thr— Ari started to answer, but Daphne held up a hand to stop him, not looking away from Benjy.

I asked Benjy.

He can’t answer you, Ari growled. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

Sure, he can. She kept her eyes on Benjy but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Numbers are easy. That’s why we have fingers. Well, for that and a few other things. For some reason, thinking of Ari and Benjy and fingers took her mind to an unexpectedly dirty place. She hurried to drag her brain out of the mud puddle it was wallowing in and refocus. She was in the middle of a kidnapping, for God’s sake. It wasn’t the time or the place to get all lusty.

Benjy kept his head averted.

Ben, she said, waiting a few moments until he made eye contact. I’m twenty-five. She held up two fingers and then five. It wasn’t ASL, but it was a way he could immediately communicate. She was curious to see if he would. How old are you?

He dropped his gaze, his hands clenching on the pine footboard. She waited, but he didn’t respond. That was interesting.

You’re twenty-five? Ari asked. He obviously didn’t have any speech issues. Daphne was about to ask him to leave her and Benjy alone for the rest of the session when she remembered where she was and how she got there and that it was not really a session—at least not a voluntary one. She gave a short nod instead.

You’ve had your PhD for two years, and you’re only twenty-five?

With a sigh, she turned to Ari. I graduated high school at sixteen and got my BS by nineteen. I did a combination master’s and doctoral program. Don’t you know this from all the ‘research’ you did?

He shrugged, still looking at her suspiciously, as if she’d ordered her degrees from the shopping channel for only three easy payments of nineteen ninety-nine. Your age didn’t come up.

Why should it? It doesn’t affect my work. She turned back to Benjy. She was used to this argument. It was an everyday battle to prove she was more than her blond hair, blue eyes, and baby face. Her short frame and lack of curves didn’t help either. When she’d started college, most of the other students had thought she was twelve.

So? The clipped question brought her head back around to focus on Ari.

What?

His jaw was clenched again. Are you going to help him?

She glanced between the two men, one staring at her as if his hard glare alone could force her to do his bidding, and the other avoiding her eyes completely.

Of course. She saw the tension ease slightly from Ari’s shoulders. After you bring me back, make an appointment and visit me in my office at the clinic during your scheduled time.

Ari’s hands closed into fists. We can’t, he gritted, taking a step toward her.

Daphne scooted back against the headboard, his threatening glare a visceral reminder of her status as the helpless kidnapped victim. Well, I can’t treat him like this.

What do you need? I’ll get whatever you need.

I need to not be trapped here! she yelled.

He paused, his gaze dropping from hers for just a moment before returning, his icy walls back in place. Anything else.

Throwing up her hands in frustration, she glared at the ceiling, annoyed at how pretty and homey the cabin was. She’d been kidnapped—she should be in a dreary, damp basement or something. She shook her head, reining in her scattered thoughts.

I don’t even know what we’re dealing with here, she finally said. It could be physical damage caused by the surgery or the head trauma or both. It could be psychological, PTSD-based or something else, in which case I’m pretty much useless, since I’m not a psychologist. I can’t develop a treatment plan without first knowing what I’m treating.

It’s physical. The white-knuckled fists of rage were back, hanging by his sides. Those bastards dug around in his brain and fucked something up.

Daphne stared at him. That’s the other thing. You keep saying these cryptic statements and then refusing to explain why Benjy didn’t get his test results or what type of surgery it was or even what caused the head trauma.

I’ll explain. She fully expected Ari was going to break a tooth, as hard as he was grinding his molars together. I’ll tell you everything. You just have to agree to help him first.

He needs medical doctors before I can start treatment, ones who will actually share the MRI results with you.

A hint of satisfaction eased the frustration in his expression. We can get you the MRIs. We can use the machine at the clinic in, he paused, the clinic not that far from here. Claire used to do a lot of MRIs before she came here.

A thump on the footboard brought both of their attention to Benjy, who was making a face at Ari.

Fine, Ari grumbled. The MRIs Claire did were of rats. The concept is the same though.

Rats? she asked faintly. The medical expert you want me to consult with deals with rat brains? Can’t you just see a different medical doctor? I could recommend one with experience in trauma to the language centers in the brain.

She focused on Benjy after another bang on the footboard. He was shaking his head.

No doctors, Ari stated. We’ve dealt with enough fucking doctors to last a lifetime.

Shoving a hand through her hair, Daphne felt the final strands give up and release from what had started yesterday morning as a neat bun. She didn’t want to know what Bride of Frankenstein look she was rocking at this point. "What happened to you guys?"

Both men just looked at her. An embarrassingly loud growl from her stomach broke the silence.

I’ll get you something to eat. Stay here, Ari commanded, moving for the stairs. Drumming his fingers against the footboard in a nervous rhythm, Benjy glanced at the other man’s back and then at Daphne. She looked steadily back at him, and he dropped his gaze again, turning to follow Ari down the stairs.

Watching him go, Daphne realized her mind was already analyzing him as a patient. From the tiny bit of information she’d been given, he was a fascinating