Page 5 of Savage Mates (Ruthless Instinct #2)

Lauren

Fifteen minutes.

The various men and women from the Office of Research Development who’d been tasked to peruse my formal application and decide my fate had taken all of fifteen minutes to make a determination. Fifteen. Minutes.

I’d been prepared with twenty-four ounces of my favorite flavored coffee, a rom-com paperback, and a sweater in case I got cold while I was waiting.

Fifteen minutes and less than four ounces of coffee later, I was back inside the small auditorium.

Along with the seven people sitting at a long table, there were a couple of other professors and a few of the university’s benefactors sitting in the audience.

Why they’d been allowed there I didn’t know, but I knew better than to ask.

Nevertheless, you could easily hear a pin drop given the silence in the room.

I was freezing to death, my teeth chattering from nervousness.

“Dr. Radcliff,” Dean Armstrong began. “First, I want to thank you for a marvelous presentation.”

Even before he continued, I already knew the outcome.

Less than four minutes later, I walked out the door. Months of work for less than an hour before my grant request was shot to shit.

I was livid.

I was upset.

I was sad.

Damn it. If my mother were alive, she’d tell me this was fate’s way of telling me I shouldn’t go. Right now, I didn’t care about fate. I cared about the lions, more now since I knew they could be being mistreated or worse.

Had I wanted to play God?

The answer should turn my stomach.

Yes.

Somehow, I managed to hold my head high, cringing from hearing my heels clicking in hollowness on the tile floor.

Only when I was outside the building did I throw my fist in the air from rage.

“Damn it all to fucking hell, you motherfuckers.” My outburst wasn’t my typical behavior, but they hadn’t asked a single question. Not one.

They’d made the determination before I’d walked through the door. Why had I bothered?

A sudden dark laugh behind me ripped my attention from my nasty tantrum. Great. Someone was making fun of me. Tamping back my anger, I spun around to come face to face with a kind-looking older gentleman.

Wait a minute.

He’d been in the room and had seen my dreams crushed like a bug smashed under a boot.

“I have those feelings every day about bureaucracy,” he said, laughing and shaking his head. When I didn’t say anything, he threw out his hand. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me for listening in on your private conversation without identifying myself. I’m Dr. Walter Zimmerman.”

I was a little bit floored when I recognized his name. As a huge benefactor of the university, he even had a building on campus named after him.

“I’m sorry. I’m not typically prone to violent outbursts.” I shook his hand, wondering why he’d stopped me.

He chuckled. “Well, I don’t blame you. They certainly didn’t give you, your work, or your excellent presentation the consideration it deserved. By the way, I’m a fan of your brilliant mind and how you process the physical and emotional state of wild animals.”

“You are?” I’d never heard my work put in those terms.

“Absolutely. Your development of a potential cure for the canine distemper virus that’s become increasingly prevalent in lions is extremely impressive.”

Why did it seem as if he wanted to say something else?

“Well, thank you.” I was still curious why he’d stopped me.

“That’s why I’d like to talk to you about funding your project.”

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” His offer was so out of the blue I was shocked.

“I’m serious. As you may or may not know, I work with a team of scientists, molecular geneticists.

We’ve delved into many of the research projects that you’ve already been working on and are at a much more advanced stage with them.

I liked what I heard and with a controlled group of lions, including one perhaps surviving extinction, imagine what could be learned. ”

My mouth was suddenly dry again, but my pulse was pumping rapidly. “I don’t know what to say or how that would work. Unfortunately, I don’t have the resources to continue with the project.”

“You won’t need to worry about anything, Lauren.

Including money. I’m perfectly willing to fund the entire project including all expenses.

Even a salary, which you very much deserve.

You’ll work with my team. If you agree, we’ll head to Tortola Island in the next few days and set up camp.

As you may know from your research, the island had been used by the Philippines military as a base of operations.

They abandoned their work less than two years ago.

Fortunately, the infrastructure they built remains, which will provide adequate if somewhat antiquated facilities that can be used in your research project.

I have equipment and instruments necessary for you to use for your tests.

Once there, you’ll be given carte blanche as to the methods of study.

Does that sound like something you’d be interested in? ”

While I was terribly excited and thrilled by the offer, a tiny red flag had already shot up in the back of my mind.

Maybe that was crazy since the man was highly respected and had been the recipient of several awards and honors through the years.

But after what Pamela had told me, and after the research I’d already done about altering DNA, I had to be skeptical.

The fact he knew the location of where the lions had been sighted and had taken to time to spec out the facilities meant he’d been given an advance preview of my grant application. Which the committee had only been provided two days before. With the single missing piece being the photographs.

Why did I have a feeling if I didn’t agree, he would take his team and head to the island anyway? Even if that were true, I didn’t like being pushed. I needed to think this through.

“What about obtaining approval for utilizing the island and the military facilities? Won’t we need to be given the okay by the Philippines government?”

He squeezed my hand, his fingers ice cold. “Allow me to take care of that.”

“As you might imagine, I’ll need to think about your offer.”

“Of course,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “I’ll give you my card and send you an email with the details, including a formal offer. Take the day. We’ll talk further tomorrow. Does that sound reasonable?” He was already pulling out his card.

At this point, I didn’t want to say no. “Sure. That sounds just fine.” He placed the card in my hand, placing his other on top of mine.

“As I said, I admire you, Lauren. Very much. Together we can do some powerful things. And think of it this way. You could be embarking on expanding our beliefs about life as we know it.”

Something about his smile kept me on edge.

He nodded as if out of respect, then walked away and at that moment, all I could think about was that his choice of words was odd.

Very odd.

The offer had arrived in my email before noon.

Including a crazy salary for a summer’s worth of work.

Two hundred thousand dollars. Four weeks on site, the remaining two months spent formulating and documenting the findings.

There was so much I could do with that kind of money.

Yet as I tried to make the decision, Pamela’s voice nagged the back of my mind.

Was I trying to play God?

What was morally wrong if I did?

Yawning, I checked the time. It was late, after eleven.

I’d spent the remainder of the day finishing up with the last-minute details of finishing out the school year as well as tending to the other animals at the clinic.

Pamela had been supportive, but had expressed her concern one more time before telling me the opportunity sounded like something I should consider.

Cautiously.

Since coming home and sliding into my jammies, I’d been in front of my laptop, researching Dr. Zimmerman and his accolades going back a dozen years.

His work had been impressive and the team of scientists he’d amassed to work with him was astounding.

Even what little had been written about his facilities made me excited.

He was extremely well funded, mostly from his earlier corporate work in a pharmaceutical company he’d sold netting billions.

The information was so glowing I was surprised I had any reservations. With his team and a few weeks spent on an island near the Philippines, important advancements could be made.

Everything he’d sent to me in his email was exactly what he’d described. A private plane taking us to the island, possibly primitive but acceptable accommodations, needed equipment and food brought with us. What could go wrong?

The notion that the concept was too good to be true lingered in the back of my mind.

Yet, I had to admit, the excitement I felt was building. I understood there could be dangers. It was an uninhabited island, Philippine military utilizing a few square miles. From what I’d found online, there were limited reports that the government had left the infrastructure intact.

As with any military base, there was a level of secrecy surrounding the reason they’d left. One thing I suspected was that Dr. Zimmerman know someone of importance to be able to obtain approval from the Philippine government for the use of the island so quickly.

Or had he already discovered the lions?

Was it possible they’d been used in Blackwell’s experiments?

There were so many questions in the back of my mind. What would hurt if I went along? I could handle primitive.

I’d been camping before. I could tolerate the heat.

And the bugs.

And the wild animals.

At least Walter had also mentioned in his email there would be other personnel to help with our research.

Sighing, I closed the lid on my computer.