Excerpt from Sights on Her by Laura M. Baird

Mikki couldn’t say why she knew she could trust Brennon and Max, knowing nothing about them, but they hadn’t killed her yet, so that was a plus. Hell, the man threw his body against that door to bust her out of that cell she’d been in, powerless to prevent what was happening to her. That had to count for something. And what a body it was. She may have been deprived of certain things while in captivity—and God, just saying that made her shudder—but she certainly wasn’t deprived of her ability to appreciate a freakin’ hot guy.

He towered over her by more than a foot with the most impressive bulk of ripped muscles she’d ever seen. His midnight hair reached the middle of his back, even with the thick mass bound at the base of his neck. He had a wide face, high cheekbones, and thinner lips than Max—who was cute in his own right with boyish good looks—but Brennon, mmm, Brennon made her insides buzz. And those golden eyes! Mesmerizing, captivating, stimulating.

When she touched the glass opposite his hand, she had felt his heat, as crazy as that sounded. But she felt something else. Something she couldn’t quite explain. A charge. A knowing. Of what, again, she couldn’t explain. Her body felt different for a scant few seconds. All this through the freakin’ glass! When he wrapped his arms around her after breaking through the door … she had wanted to stay wrapped up in that comfort for much longer.

Jeez!

Brennon touched her arm, pulling her from her fantasies.

“If you prefer, Max and I will go into the lab while you wait here.”

“No way. I’ll face it.”

“I almost hate to ask, but is there anything you remember about what they did to you? Did you ever see others and what was done to them?”

She shook her head. “I honestly don’t remember much.” Her voice was still raspy and wavered from unpleasant thoughts. “There were many voices, most of the time speaking Spanish, I assumed. I know very little, honestly. Enough to get me by. I know more French, due to my family and where I live.” She took a deep breath, making herself continue as they walked to the door she knew held the lab. “I remember not being able to see most of the time, like they had a hood over my head, and when they removed it, my vision, it was foggy. Needle pricks, so many needle pricks. And pain. Horrible pain.” Her voice cracked with those last words, shaming her for her weakness.

Brennon’s hand on her shoulder instantly calmed her, and she looked up to meet his gaze.

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay. I’ll see to it. You don’t have to say anymore. We’ll give you time to—”

“To what? See how much of my memory returns so I can relive it over and over? I’m sure you’re not the only one who’ll want to know what the hell took place here.”

His voice softened but it wasn’t condescending. “No, unfortunately others will want to question you. But we also want to help you, Mikki.”

“Mikaela Babineaux. My name. That’s my name.” She tried to smile, hoping to hide her mixed emotions of rage and self-pity.

Just what the hell has been done to me? To the others? And how many others are there? Twelve rooms here, but there could be more.

“Mikki’s fine, though. Most call me that.”

Brennon nodded while Max remained silent. She turned to the door and was the first to put her hand on the handle. Brennon quickly covered her hand with his and a pleasant zing rushed through her. She caught her breath and heard him do the same. When they looked at one another, his golden eyes held a bit of surprise.

“Your eyes,” she started softly, unable to look away. “Beautiful, gold-rimmed with bronze.” Their skin remained in contact and she felt warmth spread from her hand up her limb, beginning to infuse her entire body.

“Yours too,” he said.

Mikki blinked. “No, they’re just plain ‘ol brown.”

Brennon’s eyes widened a bit as he concentrated on her. “No, Mikki, they’re golden also, bright with sprinkles of, yeah, of bronze, too.”

She pulled her hand away, hating the loss of contact, but instinctually wrapped them around her waist as she shook her head. “No, they can’t be. I mean, I have brown eyes.” She looked at Max. “Don’t I?”

Max gave her a sympathetic look before speaking. “No, Mikki, they’re almost identical to Brennon’s.”

“How, how is that possible?”