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on the bed. They’d not only shackled Moon’s arms and legs but run rope around his body a few times from his upper chest to his thighs to prevent him from moving. Moon wasn’t going to break free again without a heavy-duty cutting device.
    She approached him slowly until she stood next to his head and peered down at a face she’d been sure she’d never see again. He was a little tanner, his hair had grown a good foot, and he’d filled out a lot. He’d been leaner when she’d met him, still recovering from being half starved by his captors. She lovingly examined each feature. He looked really peaceful.
    Her hand trembled as her fingertips lightly traced his cheek. She glanced at the door, could see down the hallway, and hoped the Species weren’t within hearing distance. They had enhanced senses but she felt safe whispering. His hot skin drew her attention as she caressed him. He’d chosen a name she liked. Moon. She said it a dozen times in her head.
    “Hi, Moon. I’ve dreamed about seeing you again but I didn’t want it to be this way or for this reason. I’m going to do everything in my power to help you. I won’t abandon you this time. I’ve regretted taking off on you more than you’ll ever know.”
    She brushed back an errant lock of his silky hair. “Please forgive me but I would have lost everything and I couldn’t risk it because you were vulnerable. They wouldn’t have allowed it anyway.”
    She released his hair and backed away, not wanting to be caught touching him again. Joy hugged her chest, knew she was in emotional turmoil and the smart thing to do would be to leave. It might ruin her career if it ever came out that she had developed a strong emotional and sexual attachment to a client but she didn’t care. She’d help him by doing her best to figure out how to restore his sanity and then she’d leave once he didn’t need her anymore.
    Her time with him at site four was fresh in her memory as she longingly gazed at Moon. Excitement had made the days drag until those evening sessions when he’d been escorted into her office. She’d missed the sound of his husky voice. He’d slowly opened up about some of the abuse he’d suffered at Mercile. It had torn her to shreds listening to each horrific detail but he had needed to get it out. It was part of the healing process.
    She’d managed to hide her rage while learning that he’d been beaten just to test some miracle drug that improved healing ability. Those sons of bitches had ganged up on him while he’d been chained, sometimes breaking bones as well as skin, just to see how long it would take for his body to mend. She’d silently wished she could go back in time and spare him all the pain. She was a strident advocate against violence but she’d had plenty of thoughts about performing some gruesome acts on the men and women responsible for his torture.
    A few times he’d lifted his shirt to show her scars on his stomach or back. The urge to kiss them in an attempt to soothe some of his residual emotional pain had been almost irresistible. She’d been attracted to Moon in every way and wasn’t able to see those flashes of skin without having unethical thoughts. It had grown harder with every session to restrain the urge to reach out to him. Guilt had surfaced many times as well because of her fascination with his muscular, tempting body.
    He’d always turned the topic to sex. It might have been a defensive gesture, a way to distract her from his real issues. Whatever the reason, listening to him speak of the sexual things he wanted to do to her had a strong effect. She’d wanted him too. It had grown harder to keep reminding him of their professional limits.
    Half of her had wanted to believe him when he said sex would cure all that ailed him, despite the fact that she knew better. The line between what was best for him and what her heart demanded had blurred with each passing day. Meg had been right to tell her to quit her job