Martineau stepped forward, grabbed her shoulders with his strong hands, and then kissed her on either cheek. Breathing in the scent of his familiar cologne, Horton began to feel her resolve buckle. “Should my ears be burning?” Martineau smiled, freeing her from his grip.

“Maybe,” she said humorlessly. “I was just talking to Graham Kilburn.”

“Ah, Dr. Kilburn.” The smile left Martineau’s lip. “He is no fan of mine.”

Horton folded her arms across her chest. “Luc, why didn’t you tell me you turned down his request for a compassionate release of Oraloxin?”

“I thought you understood,” he said unapologetically. “It was an impossible request! I had neither the authority nor the right to jeopardize the project by entertaining such a rash long shot.”

“I have to agree with Luc,” Byington said calmly. “You can’t cut comers like that. I’m sure in the cold light of day, Dr. Kilburn understands too.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Horton huffed. She didn’t know which she resented more, Byington’s patronizing tone or her obvious closeness to Martineau. Regardless, she decided that she didn’t like Andrea Byington.

Martineau cocked his head. “What makes you say that, Ellen?”

“Because Graham went ahead and used Oraloxin without your permission.”

Byington sat bolt upright in her seat. “He what?”

Martineau’s blue eyes darkened to the point of opacity. He squinted at Horton and said, in just above a whisper, “He used our drug after I forbade him to?”

Taken aback, Horton dropped her arms to her side. She was unnerved by Martineau’s cold ferocity, something she’d never seen before in him. “But Luc, Oraloxin worked,” she sputtered.

Martineau did a double take. “What?”

“On the culture plates anyway.” Horton told them about MRGAS’s exquisite sensitivity to Oraloxin on the culture plates.

By the time she finished, Martineau’s scowl had been replaced by a gaping, matinee idol smile. “Ellen, this is wonderful news! Can you imagine the implications of producing the only drug that treats MRGAS?” He threw his arms around Horton and squeezed her tightly. Despite her ambivalence toward him, the contact stirred up primal warmth inside her.

Byington rose and joined them by his desk. She laid a hand on Ellen’s wrist and another on Martineau’s shoulder. “Luc’s right, Ellen. This is one hell of a feather in your cap!”

Conflicting emotions swirled in Horton. Validated by their praise and aroused by Martineau’s proximity, she hadn’t shaken off the bitterness of his deception.

Suddenly, the office doors flew open, and Neil Ryland burst in. Even before she saw his face, she knew from his slumped shoulders that something was very wrong.

“Neil! Have you heard the news?” Martineau held out a hand triumphantly to him. “MRGAS is sensitive to Oraloxin! And we have the only—” He stopped in midsentence.