She had just hung up the phone when she heard a soft tap at her door. She walked over and opened it. In jeans and an untucked black shirt, Cohen greeted her with shining eyes and a big smile. “Hi,” he said.

He looked as handsome as she’d ever seen him. Desire surged in her. Without a word, she reached out, took his hand, and pulled him into the room. He closed the door with his foot as she dragged him back to the bed. Once there, she pushed him down until he sat on the edge of the bed. She climbed onto him and straddled his legs. She leaned forward and ran her lips along his neck, drinking in the pleasant scent of his aftershave. She kissed him along the side of his neck to his chin and then up to his mouth.

He tightened his hands around her back and moaned. He reached for the hem of her dress. Removing her lips from his for only seconds, she held up her arms so that he could slip the dress up and over her head.

An hour later, still damp from sweat, she lay under the light sheet with her body pressed against his sinewy form. Lopez was startled out of her dreamy state by the ring of her cell phone. She consulted her watch, which read 12:40 A.M.

Cohen looked at her with a frown. “Who would that be?”

Naked, she slipped out of bed and strode to the desk on which her phone sat. She snatched it up and climbed back into bed beside Cohen before answering.

“Dr. Lopez?” he said urgently. “It’s Luc Martineau,”

She turned to Cohen with a look of surprise. “Hello, Luc.”

Cohen leaned his head close to the phone, and she tilted it so he could listen in.

“Where are you, Luc?”

“Lina, the police are looking for me.”

“I know, Luc.”

Cohen mouthed the words “play along.”

“I didn’t do this,” Martineau said.

“Okay.” She forced herself to speak with calm deliberateness. “Why don’t you turn yourself in, so you can sort it out with the authorities?”

“They won’t believe me,” he said in a robotic voice. “I need your help.”

“How can I help you, Luc?” she asked as supportively as she could muster.

“I need you and the other two doctors to meet me at Ellen’s lab,” he said. “I can show you her notes. Everything is explained. As scientists, you’ll understand. Then you can help sort this out.”

“Understand what?” Lopez demanded.

“Meet me in half an hour at SeptoMed,” Martineau said. “The Oraloxin lab on the eighteenth floor. You’ll see.”

“Luc, it’s after midnight.”

“Half an hour,” he snapped. “I’ll leave the keycards in the planter by the door. I’ll distract the security guards.”

“Luc, we can’t—”