Love Needed (The Love Is Series) by Talea Botha Page B

you."
    "That's fine; just don't say anything about it now. Chances are that won't happen anyway."
    Frank said nothing; he just held his hands up in defence and shrugged.
    In the ladies room Natasha looked at herself in the mirror. She saw a pale woman staring back, the dark hollows under her eyes starting to show through the make-up she'd put on that morning. The more she looked at herself the more unfamiliar the woman staring back became, until she felt so unsure of herself that she turned her back to the mirror and sighed.
    She was worried about the reports. She didn't know what was going on, but lately she hadn't been herself and it was scaring her. She was always so on top of things, and she'd never made mistakes on reports. Ever. She wondered if Cara had notified Upstairs about the mix up. She was petrified of the Hounds.
    She'd been with Blackwell for little over 5 years. In that time the Hounds had tested her twice. She couldn't remember anything about the tests themselves, but she knew how she couldn't sleep for months after, and she knew that she didn't want them near her again.
    Her mind ran feverishly over the report she'd written. She linked every page back to the events at the restaurant. She knew she added everything. She'd thought the Cullinan case was one of her best cases yet, it was easy to move in and it didn't take long before Dale, the target, opened up to her. He was a little short tempered, but he was like a child. If he didn't get what he wanted he threw his toys out of the cot. It wasn't hard to contain him; the only thing that got to her about him was that he'd sometimes said things that cut her deep.
    Her job was straightforward. Research sent her files on targets, and it was up to her to gain information from them. Research usually sent men her way, because she was charming and seductive, and even though she wasn't strikingly beautiful she knew how to carry and express herself in ways that drew attention.
    It never took her very long before she got was she needed for Tactics to move in, she did whatever it took, and once that happened she ended the relationship she'd started, and moved on to the next case. She didn't know more than that, and she didn't care. Payment was more than good, and as long as she did her job meticulously, the Hounds stayed off her trail.
    The other girls in the office often whispered to each other that she was cold and heartless, but she saw the men as jobs, and she found it easy not to get emotionally involved. That was probably why she kept to herself, and why she was one of Blackwell's best.
    Two days later Cara's phone rang and she was summoned to Dr Mitchell's office. Chills ran down her spine, and she ran a mental check on everything that had happened that past couple of weeks, searching for a possible reason that Dr Mitchell himself would want to see her. She couldn't find anything, and then she suddenly remembered about the reports she'd sent through to Tactics for Natasha. Her stomach fell like lead, but she tried to shake it off. There’s no way the changes in the report could have been noticed, is there? She’d made sure of every step she took. On her way to the elevators she glanced over to Frank's desk, and he just shrugged at her. News travelled faster than wild fire through the company.
    When she stood in front of the heavy wooden doors on the top floor, she straightened her shirt, ran a hand through her hair and swallowed hard, trying to calm herself. Then she pushed the buzzer, thinking it would be great to turn around and run, but forcing herself to keep composure. As scared as she was, it was better to jump head first into the fire than to keep Dr Mitchell waiting.
    The office on the other side of the wooden doors was big and tidy. It was carpeted form wall to wall, with rows and rows of book cases against the wall, and a large desk in the middle. Behind the old leather chair, windows from floor to ceiling looked out over the city, and Dr Mitchell was