As Rick ambled across the platform toward Sea-Mont headquarters, he tried not to notice—or at least not to judge—the artificial nature of the place. The “air”, the “grass”, the “trees”. Did anyone really fall for this stuff? Even the monotonous breeze annoyed him. But of course, he was here for different reasons than the rest of the D-side residents. He intended to make it his home forever, while they couldn’t wait for the day they returned to Earth.
He had visited headquarters more than once for contract negotiations in TJ’s fourth-floor office, and didn’t relish graduating to the guy’s personal residence. But when the lobby guard greeted him by name and activated a private elevator to take him to the penthouse, he decided to treat it like another, tamer D-side experience. And at least the guard hadn’t tried to confiscate his gun belt and pistols.
Stepping off the elevator into an ornate entry hall with marble floors and a full-sized chandelier, he realized the crux of his problem with TJ. The guy hadn’t come here to experience a brave new world, but rather, to turn Destry into New York City. Whereas guys like Rick had intentionally left Earth behind, eager to find independence and frontier adventure, welcoming the isolation, the simplicity and the star-studded nothingness.
Was that hypocritical? Rick was fine with certain trappings of Earth history like the Trading Post and brothel, but those were different, weren’t they? The former had a utilitarian purpose, since folks—even frontier folks—needed stuff. And men needed women, hence the wise decision to include bio-girls on the platform.
Just thinking about those pretty women made him want to skip dinner completely, but he dutifully knocked on the penthouse door, hoping at the very least that Alexia would appear in a skimpy black dress like the one she’d worn in that Christmas video.
But it was TJ—judge, jury and executioner, all wrapped up in a sweater vest—who answered, ushering Rick into a lavishly decorated apartment. Again, the tributes to Earth were everywhere, from framed watercolors of grassy meadows to holographic representations of blue-green waterfalls. Absurd, since the only water on Destry was in percolating bogs, and the only “meadows” were piles of debris left behind when the previous settlers nuked the whole place into rubble, leaving only one intact, functioning memento of their presence.
The Titans—giant behemoths trudging eternally in circles, unable to be killed thanks to the living metal in their bodies, but also unable to think or to impact their environment.
If Rick could choose one holograph for the walls of his ship, it would depict those hulking robots. In some ways, they had a lot in common with Rick—throwbacks with no purpose other than to keep going. They had been warriors once, but now were simply shells, constantly on the move but without any real destination.
Not that the analogy was perfect. Rick had sworn off relationships with other humans, but he had Sensie, didn’t he? And far from being purposeless, he was exploring a wide swath of an alien solar system, soaking up knowledge while honing his skills with bio-metal lariats, blast pistols and thug hunts.
Returning his attention to TJ’s residence, he looked beyond the old-world furniture to a wall of windows providing a view of the real D-side. Especially now, with the dome lights dimmed, the world was just the way Rick loved it—darkness, stars and adventure.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” TJ was telling him. “Can I take your coat? I’ve sent the servants away, so I’ll be doing the honors myself.”
Rick hesitated, suspecting he was being put in his place. Alexia had asked him to wear the buckskin, but TJ had asked him to wear something better—code for more formal, more respectful. So the company president was imposing his will a different way.
Or maybe TJ found Rick’s attire intimidating, or was worried Alexia might find it sexually provocative—
Unless of course the guy was just trying to be a good host, and Rick was the one with “a rooster in his pants” to use his grandfather’s favorite expression.
Trying not to laugh at any of the possible scenarios, he handed over his jacket and pistols, saying, “Thanks again for the invite.”
TJ placed the belongings on a coat rack. “I was glad to hear you want another contract. There’s a paper copy on the table, and the file’s been sent to your computer. Sensie, right?”
“Yeah, thanks.” He crossed the room to peruse the six-page document.
“I doubled your usual fee because it’s in Sector Fourteen. That’s not a problem, is it?”
“I’ve always wanted to explore out there,” Rick admitted. After scanning the provisions, he glanced around, trying to appear casual. “Alexia’s not ready yet?”
“So it seems. Which works for me, since I want to chat privately first.” TJ planted himself in front of a fully-stocked bar. “What did you think of her?”
“Alexia? She’s great. A credit to her family.” Wincing at the banal statement, he decided to be blunt. “Most people would have taken their millions and disappeared. But she never gave up on her brother. I admire the loyalty—”
“After five fucking years? That’s not loyalty, it’s obsession.” TJ poured a generous amount of whisky into a crystal glass and handed it to Rick. “My mission in life is to persuade her to give up the search. Any ideas?”
Rick’s backbone straightened. “Are you so sure he’s dead? Because otherwise, who am I to tell her she’s wrong?”
“Good point. Except Trent himself believed the victims die instantly. Torn apart by cosmic forces right there in the sinkhole. Hopefully without pain, but that’s another issue. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Rick downed the drink in one gulp. “So? You and Alexia?”
“You noticed the sexual tension?” TJ chuckled. “It’s legendary.” Settling into a leather armchair next to the fireplace, he motioned for Rick to take the opposite seat. “I became an honorary member of the Montoya family when she was just a kid. I wanted to be a second big brother to her, but by the time she was sixteen, she was openly lusting for me. And trust me, it wasn’t easy to ignore, since that dynamite body was already emerging. But I was Trent’s friend—his brother in a very real sense—so I pretended not to notice.”
What an a-hole…
TJ shrugged as though he’d heard Rick’s indictment. “If you could see how she threw herself at me, you wouldn’t judge. Anyway, the family went through a lot after that, and I was there to support them. First the mom ran off with another guy. Then she died. Then Roberto died the next year. So when Trent won the Nobel Prize for discovering how to recycle bio-metal, we were on top of the world. Trent, me and Lexie. She had just started college, but came home for the party. You should have seen her,” he insisted reverently. “Sexy and legal. And all of us were drinking our weight in cocktails. So I danced with her, and it went crazy fast, to the point where she put her hand down the front of my pants—”
“You know,” Rick interjected, “I don’t actually want to hear this crap.”
“But it’s relevant,” TJ insisted. “Based on one excellent hand job, Alexia believed we were now a couple. But as soon as I sobered up, I knew it was a mistake and told her so. She was so freaking pissed. Hell hath no fury, right? She ran out of there like her hair was on fire. Trent noticed it and complimented me.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, he figured I had resisted her and thanked me for having such great self-control. Obviously, I couldn’t tell him what actually happened, but I did confess I was beginning to find her attractive. And he surprised me by begging me to marry her. He claimed he and Roberto had always dreamed it would happen, knowing she’d be in good hands with me.”
Determined to put an end to the subject, Rick glanced toward the hall leading to bedrooms. “I wonder what’s keeping her. Maybe you should check.”
“She isn’t here. She opted to stay in the other penthouse. I’m sure she’s on her way—”
“Are you saying she’s walking across the platform alone?” Rick stood and moved toward the coat rack. “You saw how those assholes were this morning. And the dome lights are already dimmed for the night.”
“She’s fine,” TJ assured him. “Let’s check the monitors. And remember, those guys work for me. I gave them strict instructions not to hassle her.”
“They work for your father, not you,” Rick muttered as he buckled his gun belt.
TJ activated a monitor on a nearby desk. “See? She’s right downstairs, gabbing with the night watchman.”
Relieved, Rick joined him and studied the eight-inch display. Her back was to the camera, but he could see she was wearing a tailored black suit, not the sexy dress of his fantasies.
Perfect, he muttered to himself. A romantic reunion was bad enough. Now it’s turning into a shareholders meeting?
Alexia in a suit, TJ in his black sweater vest and slacks, and Rick in faded jeans. Someone definitely didn’t fit in.
“Anyway,” TJ said as though their conversation hadn’t been cut short, “back to me and Lexie. I went to her dorm room a few weeks after the incident, intending to make nice. But she was still pissed. I tried every few months. Then it all went to shit.” His voice cracked. “Nineteen seconds—that’s how long it took before I knew in my heart we had lost Trent in that goddamned sinkhole. It was almost a blessing when Alexia refused to accept the truth. Otherwise the grief would have destroyed her.”
“So?” Rick’s annoyance thawed. “You never really thought he was alive? Not even for the first few days?”
“You mean, while I was conning her out of five percent of the company?” TJ grimaced. “That was the old man, not me. Frankly, I would have forced her to accept the truth from the start. But he convinced me it was kinder to go along with her. To set up the dummy company and pretend to search for Trent. But after two years, we didn’t really have a choice. We had to declare him dead.” When Rick just stared, TJ explained. “We were procuring licenses from the US and the UN. Recruiting the next generation of brilliant scientists. Leveraging our financing with billionaires and banks. And they all had the same question: Was Trent Montoya gone or not?”
Rick could see how that had put the company—and the Seatons—in a bind. Still, the idea of going to court seemed unnecessarily cruel.
“I knew she’d be upset,” TJ admitted. “But we never could have predicted she’d follow in her mother’s traitorous footsteps and fuck everything her father and brother had built.”
“Geezus, what does her mother have to do with it?”
“You don’t know?” TJ shrugged. “She was a selfish, self-absorbed bitch who didn’t care about anyone, not even her own children. At least Lexie cares about someone besides herself—namely Trent. And hopefully me. Because I plan on reviving our aborted love affair, which is where you come in.”
“Pardon?”
TJ grinned. “She wanted you here tonight, so fine. You impressed her with the macho rescue from my quote-unquote storm troopers, and now she feels safe when you’re around. But I think she made this trip to rekindle the flame, at least subconsciously, and that’s what I want too. It may take time, but if it happens tonight, just go away. Got it?”
A knock at the door kept Rick from telling TJ where to stick his rekindled flame. Instead he said, “Wouldn’t it be better if I just left?”
“I’m asking you to back me up. You don’t want her for yourself, do you?”
“No.”
“So where’s the problem? I’m willing to love, honor and make money with her till death us do part.” Dropping the irreverent tone, he added quietly, “She’s all I want, Rick. The company, bio-metal, fame and fortune—none of it matters without Lexie to share it with. So do it for her, okay?”
Without waiting for Rick’s response, he moved toward the entry door. “She can’t keep chasing ghosts forever. She deserves a full life, and I’m the guy who can give it to her.”
Rick had prepared himself for disappointment but it proved unnecessary. The Alexia who stepped through the doorway wasn’t a business woman in a black suit, but rather, some sort of erotic confection. Sure, her jacket and skirt were traditional, but they faded into nothingness thanks to the filmy layers of foamy white fabric covering her perfect breasts.
It was as if she had spread whipped cream over herself, daring Rick to lick it off. And given the delicate straps holding the whole thing up, he sensed there was no bra to interfere with the feast.
TJ seemed equally mesmerized, although he showed enough sophistication to murmur, “Thanks for coming, Lexie. You look great.”
“Thanks. I still can’t believe I’m here. Or you’re here. With me, I mean.” She flung her arms around her old friend’s neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’ve thought about this moment for so long.”
“Yeah,” TJ said, his tone still dazed. “Me too.”
Turning to Rick, she smiled playfully. “Hey, cowboy.”
Despite his thick tongue, he managed to murmur, “Nice to see you again, Ms. Montoya.”
“Call me Alexia. And I’ll call you Captain, okay?” Flushing, she added quickly, “Because you’re the captain of a spaceship, right? Not because of your military history.”
“My military history?” he asked, momentarily confused. Then he realized what she meant and sent TJ a pointed scowl. “Don’t believe everything you hear. And just call me Rick, okay?”
To his surprise, she stepped right up to him and reached for his face, soothing his jaw with her fingertips. “I badgered TJ for details about your past. But only so I wouldn’t say anything stupid tonight.” With a wry smile, she added, “Mission accomplished, right?”
The golden glow of sympathy in her eyes transfixed him, and he could barely manage to insist, “It’s fine.”
“No it isn’t.” She shifted her hand to his shirtfront. “I’ll never understand why some of us are asked to bear so much death and loneliness. Especially you. I know you’re tough, but still, it’s unfair.”
The last thing Rick wanted was sympathy, but her warmth—emotional and physical—seduced him. And while it felt amazingly good, he was grateful when TJ put a quick end to it by saying, “Did you two want to be alone?”
Alexia huffed. “Grow a conscience, would you? We’re having a beautiful moment.”
Before anyone could react, she turned to the dining table, which was laden with covered dishes, and sniffed appreciatively. “Cheese enchiladas?”
TJ nodded. “Just like your grandma used to make. Are they still your favorite?”
“Yum, all is forgiven,” she assured him. Then she gave Rick a reassuring wink. “You’ve never tasted anything like this in your life, I promise.”
For the next hour, he listened in annoyed silence as TJ and Alexia reminisced. Stories about Trent; about Trent and TJ; about Trent and Alexia; and of course, about Alexia and TJ, although the infamous hand job wasn’t mentioned.
Only two things kept him from fleeing the scene—the enchiladas and Alexia’s meringue-coated chest.
He wasn’t sure which was more mouth-watering, especially when she gestured wildly to illustrate her stories, punctuating them with her breasts. It made him appreciate the bio-girls, mostly because they wouldn’t tease a guy like this. If one of them were wearing that provocative outfit, she’d already be in Rick’s lap.
Still, the food at the Trading Post couldn’t rival these enchiladas. Warm, stretchy cheese peppered with spicy green chilies, wrapped in flaky flour tortillas and smothered in a garlicky sauce—better than anything he had tasted this side of the sinkhole. He usually opted for a steak dinner when in dock, considering it a sensory miracle compared to the powdered eggs and milk, chicken jerky and assorted dried vegetables that made up the bulk of his diet for months at a time.
And so he concentrated on the meal while trying to screen out the chatter. Not that he wouldn’t appreciate a glimpse or two into the background that had produced the formidable Montoya clan. But Alexia and TJ weren’t providing that sort of information. Rather, they were talking in code, so that “Remember the time Trent broke his arm?” produced a gale of laughter, and “Dad and his alarm system, right?” made the duo roll their eyes in tribute to some anecdote that resonated with them as much as it frustrated Rick.
So what was he doing here instead of at the brothel? If only Sensie were able to hear this conversation, she’d be savvy enough to send a fake distress message so he could leave. But the range of her audio sensors, while broad, couldn’t penetrate walls. Had they been dining on the balcony, things would be different. But as it stood, he was on his own.
Just when he was ready to invent an excuse to bolt, Alexia stood up and asked, “Is it just me? Or is it roasting in here?” Then she stripped off her jacket and sat back down, her golden-brown shoulders completely exposed.
No way was he leaving now. Sure, it was torture, but too good to pass up.
Then she turned to him, her eyes dancing with mischief. “TJ says you prefer sex with bio-girls instead of real dates. Is that true?”
He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say I prefer it. It’s just less complicated.”
TJ grinned. “You sound like Trent. He used to say sex was like food and shelter. It could be great, but as long as it was good enough, he wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it.”
Alexia’s eyes narrowed. “You guys are so unromantic.”
“Not me,” TJ protested. “I’m a born lover. It’s Rick and Trent who think quickies are better.”
“Not better,” Rick said, his tone unintentionally harsh. “Just simpler.”
Alexia gave TJ a teasing glare. “Don’t make him mad. He’s armed, remember? Or at least—” her gaze shifted toward the far side of the room, “—the coat rack is armed.”
Rick relaxed a bit, amused that she had noticed his jacket and gun belt. If anything, she seemed to blame TJ for the fact he wasn’t actually wearing them, which was fine with him.
Alexia turned her attention back to Rick. “Tell me why you call yourself a wrangler. I like it—don’t get me wrong—but you’re really more of a salvager, right? Finding old space debris that contains bio-metal, and then selling it so it can be recycled?”
“A salvager?” he asked, still distracted by the sizzling heat of her golden-brown skin. “That’s—well, that’s wrong.” Squaring his shoulders, he added more forcefully, “I’m a wrangler because I go after space metal that fights back. Not lifeless pieces of junk.”
“I thought the Destroyers got rid of everything that moved. Except the Titans, of course.”
Before he could respond, she continued. “Do you have a theory why they left the Titans intact? Trent thought maybe they actually couldn’t turn them off or destroy them. Not completely, at least. So they disconnected the brains, but preserved minimum functioning. That’s why they trudge in circles.”
Rick shrugged. “Either they couldn’t destroy them, or they couldn’t bring themselves to do it. It’s a funny thing, right? Half machine, half living creature. So destroying them would be equivalent to taking a life.”
TJ exhaled in disgust. “Most of the Destry buildings and machines contained bio-metal, but that didn’t stop the Destroyers from demolishing them. I think it was more—much more—than that. There was something unique about the Titans beyond the fact that they were animate.”
“Have you seen them up close?” Alexia asked Rick.
“Yeah, they’re amazing. I saw pictures and videos before I came through the sinkhole, but man—they didn’t do them justice. And not just their size either, although they’re effing huge. And lifelike even though they’re brain-dead.” Regretting the wistful tone, he grinned. “Anyway, I’m not crazy enough to wrangle them. But I’m sure your brother told you about the flying robots that protect them. We call them ‘thugs’, and they swoop in when they sense danger to the Titans. They’re formidable, but stupid. And since they contain bio-metal, they’re worth a lot. So when they show up, we lasso them.”
Her golden eyes were shining. “I forgot about the thugs. The Destroyers didn’t annihilate them either. Is that another example of their respect for life?”
“I doubt it. Thugs are single-purpose machines, not complex beings.” He glanced toward his employer to make sure he didn’t want to take over. But TJ nodded, so he continued. “There’s a third class of robots that wasn’t deactivated either. We call them infodroids. You might not have heard about them, since they weren’t discovered until after your brother went missing.”
“Infodroids?”
“We think the Destroyers used them to gather data throughout the solar system and feed it back to the main computers on the planet. When the Destroyers abandoned Destry, they just left the droids up there. It was probably too much trouble to bring them all back.”
“So they’re still gathering information?”
“Yeah. And in some ways, they’re the real prize. But the thugs protect them too, which makes it tricky when you try to wrangle one.”
“But you want to wrangle them because they’ve got a lot of biotanium?” she guessed. “That’s what makes them such a prize?”
TJ spoke up to correct her. “Sea-Mont pays a premium for infodroids because we want the data stored in their memory banks. It’s virtually priceless. But apparently they’re tough to catch because—like Rick said—they send a signal to the thugs as soon as they’re threatened, so the wranglers have their hands full. We think there are around five hundred infodroids in existence, but so far, we’ve only gotten sixty. And of those, I’ll bet Rick brought in at least fifty.”
“Fifty-eight,” Rick corrected him, then he kicked himself mentally. Showing off for Alexia Montoya? Just because her skin looked so touchable and her breasts were covered with whipped cream?
TJ gave a curt nod. “That sounds right. Like I said, Rick’s our best wrangler. The others go for the low-hanging fruit. The thugs. But he brings us data to feed into the Sea-Mont Prototype.”
“My brother’s computer,” Alexia said with a wistful smile.
“Actually, it belongs to the company. But yes…” TJ’s tone softened. “Trent outdid himself with that project. You have a right to feel proud.”
“And entitled,” she reminded him. Then she turned back to Rick. “TJ says you have an amazing computer yourself. Not fully sentient, obviously. But still pretty impressive.”
Rick’s jaw tightened as it always did when the conversation turned to Sensie. The rest of the world believed she was “almost” fully sentient, and he needed to encourage that rumor. Because if anyone—on either side of the sinkhole—suspected she was fully sentient, they’d hunt down the Drifter and confiscate Sensie for sure.
So all he said was, “She’s great. You’d be impressed.”
“He talks about her like she’s a real girl,” TJ insisted with a grin. “But almost sentient doesn’t cut it. Right, Lexie?”
Rick’s jaw tensed again when Alexia’s cheeks reddened. Apparently this was some sort of inside joke that was actually an inside insult.
Then she locked gazes with Rick and explained. “I keep hitting dead ends in my search for Trent. So I’d like to run the relevant data through one of the sentient prototypes. But TJ’s father blocked my access to the one at NASA, and unless TJ grows a pair, I won’t be able to use the Sea-Mont one either. Even though—”
“Even though your sainted brother invented it,” TJ finished for her. “We know, we know. And I’ll do my best, but you’ve got to remember, I don’t own the company. Not even forty-five percent of it. I run it for Dad, and he always has the final say.” His tone softened again. “But you know I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks.”
“And if all else fails, you’re welcome to use Sensie,” Rick told her quietly. “Like I said, you’d be surprised how sentient she is.”
Alexia smiled. “That’s sweet, and I’m sure she’s amazing. But I have an ‘almost’ of my own. We built it to search for Trent, and trust me, we spared no expense. It just can’t handle the kind of intuitive scenarios I’m desperate to run.” Her smile turned playful. “I guess I should have given mine a name—and a gender. Maybe I’ll do that when I get home. Sensie stands for Sentient, so I’ll make mine a boy and call him Sentor. Then they can link up and have a cyber affair.”
Rick chuckled. “Sensie would not be amused by that analogy.”
“I don’t blame her.” After a moment of hesitation, Alexia surprised him by reaching out and covering his hand with her own. “Will you take me to see the Titans, Rick?”
“Huh?”
“I want to see them. With my own eyes, just like you said. The three of us can go tomorrow, can’t we? It would be fun.”
“Count me out,” TJ muttered. “I hate traveling in those anti-compression tubes, and I already did it twice this month. Maybe next quarter you can come with me for my routine visit.”
“I can’t wait that long. And the anti-compression tubes don’t bother me a bit. I slept like a baby on the flight to the sinkhole.”
“Then Rick can take you. I’ll amend the contract—”
“It’s too dangerous,” Rick interrupted firmly. “Just forget about it. No one goes there.”
“You do,” Alexia reminded him. “You said so yourself.”
“We could run into thugs—”
“So fight them off! Isn’t that what you do for a living? And you’re the best. TJ said so.”
Rick scowled. “It’s out of the question.”
“I’ll pay you. A lot.”
“It’s not about money.” He gave TJ a frustrated glare. “Talk to her.”
“I’m not getting in the middle of this,” TJ said with a chuckle. “Just get it over with. One quick pass near the trudging fields—”
“No, I want to touch one,” Alexia insisted. “That’s the whole point. Right, Rick?”
He felt the world spinning into crazy. “You can’t touch one, Ms. Montoya. The air on the planet is poisonous and the Titans are coated with it.”
“Have you touched one?”
He winced.
“See? It’s perfectly safe. I’ll wash my hand right afterward.”
“You’ll wear a glove.”
“Did you wear a glove?”
TJ flashed him a sympathetic grin. “You’re losing ground, buddy. Better quit while you’re ahead.”
“This is nuts.” Rick slid his chair away from the table in noisy but useless protest, “We’ll go. But on my terms. Which means we won’t get too close. And no touching. If we stay on the perimeter, the thugs might not notice.”
“But if they do, you’ll wrangle them. And I’ll help,” Alexia said cheerfully. “Maybe you’ll even make some extra money off them.”
“It’s not about the money—” he repeated, then he growled in defeat and moved to the coat rack to retrieve his belongings. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. We’ll need to get an early start tomorrow.”
“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” TJ assured him.
Rick stood his ground. “With your father’s goons out there? And the dome lights dimmed? I don’t think so.”
“I told you, she’s safe.”
Alexia offered a reassuring smile. “Thanks for the offer, cowboy, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Rick stared, completely stunned by the message he was receiving. Alexia didn’t need anyone to walk her home because she wasn’t going home. She was spending the night with TJ.
Big fucking surprise.
“Perfect,” he muttered, buckling his gun belt, then donning the buckskin coat. “Just so you know, I’m leaving at eight a.m. If you’re there, we’ll go down to Destry and check out the Titans. If you don’t show, I’ll head straight to Sector Fourteen. Got it?” Before either of them could respond, he crossed to the door and pulled it open.
Storming out would have felt great, but unfinished business hung in the air, so he told TJ bluntly, “Don’t let her walk home alone.”
Then for added insurance, he gave him a measured stare. It only lasted a moment, and hopefully wasn’t noticeable to Alexia. But any guy would get it, and get it good. Rick had taken a personal interest in this female’s safety, and would hold TJ accountable if anything happened to her.
Once TJ’s face had dutifully registered the message, Rick turned and walked out the door without actually saying good-bye to either of them.
And he didn’t feel one bit guilty about it. They were imposing on his good nature—on the last vestiges of his Earth-based sensibilities—and he hated that kind of shit. Now he had a million things to do. Drag the extra anti-compression tube out of storage and test it for leaks, find a decontamination suit that would fit a small, obnoxious woman, find gloves that would protect her slender, graceful fingers…
All of which paled in comparison to the things he couldn’t do—namely, get laid. He would have to put that off until after the Titan viewing. Which was unbelievably ironic, since Alexia had been the one to get him so wound up with her naked breasts and killer shoulders, and now he’d have to wait a full day to remedy the effect.
Just effing perfect.
Alexia stared after the wrangler, charmed by his show of concern even though she knew better than to take it personally.
The guy had had enough of death. Loved ones, comrades, associates—all dying in hideous ways, with him helpless to prevent it, despite his powerful build and charisma. He wasn’t going to let it happen again on his watch.
Should she let him off the hook? Run after him and cancel the trip to the surface? She could hire a different pilot, couldn’t she?
But if you’re attacked by thugs and die a fiery death, the cowboy will still blame himself.
She had a feeling he wouldn’t let her cancel the trip anyway. He’d grumble and scowl, but unless she promised to stay away from Destry completely, he would insist on being her pilot.
Without turning her gaze away from the door, she told TJ softly, “That was odd, wasn’t it?”
“Should I be jealous?”
“What?” She turned, honestly surprised by the question. “Be serious. That cowboy doesn’t have anything I need.”
“In other words, he doesn’t have a sentient computer.”
“I was referring to the lack of shared history, actually. Or love for my brother.” She bit her lip, struggling for the right words. “Rick’s a stranger, TJ. Compared to you, he’s no one.”
He studied her for a long moment, then rested his hands on her shoulders. “Any chance you’re spending the night?”
“Tonight? No. But tomorrow…” She tried for an encouraging smile, but it all felt so strange. After years of fantasizing about this, it was finally happening. He was standing right in front of her. Same adorable face, same broad shoulders, same blue eyes.
But he had betrayed her. Worse, he had betrayed Trent. So her hesitation made perfect sense. She could regain those old, erotic, romantic feelings with him, but it would take time. And in the meantime, she could pretend to be her old self—just a bit—if it meant getting access to the sentient computer.
When he stepped closer and teased her lips with his own, she responded, but didn’t encourage him too much. Instead, after a few seconds, she pulled free and repeated, “Tomorrow night, okay? I’m exhausted from my wild ride through the sinkhole.”
“I thought you slept like a baby.”
“On the way to the transit point, sure. But when they were strapping me into the capsule, all I could think was—well, was I going to make it? Was I going to see Trent? Were you going to be mad at me?” With a wistful sigh, she added, “Seven seconds that felt like an instant, and then I was on D-side. It’s still such a miracle, isn’t it?”
He pulled her close again, but this time, in a gesture of protection. “If I had lost you in that fucking sinkhole, it would have destroyed me.”
She wanted to pull free. To remind him haughtily that he had taken Trent’s disappearance in stride, so why not hers? But that wasn’t fair. Plus, it would be counterproductive. So she forced herself to relax against his chest and it felt surprisingly good. Despite the betrayal, she had honestly missed him, and bit by bit, her resentment was melting away.
Without warning he tilted her face up and kissed her again, this time with unexpected ferocity. “I want you to spend the night.”
“You promised the cowboy you’d walk me home like a gentleman.”
“Fuck him,” TJ growled. “Bringing blast pistols into Sea-Mont headquarters? Into my home? He’s lucky I didn’t have him arrested.”
“Hey!” She stepped back, confused by his contorted expression. “What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t like being played. Not by him, and definitely not by you.”
“Wow.” She touched his cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you angry before. I mean, really angry. It’s just so unlike you.”
“Maybe I’ve changed.”
She ignored the biting tone. “You’re the sweetest guy I know. Don’t bother arguing about it.”
A glimmer of the old TJ—the one who just couldn’t stay mad at anyone—sparked in his eyes. “Thanks, Lexie. Sorry I lost my temper.”
“Like you said, it’s been a rough few years.” She bit her lip. “Have you been happy at all? Any girlfriends along the way? I promise I won’t get jealous.”
“Sure,” he murmured. “There’ve been a couple. No keepers, but they were good company.”
“I’m not talking about bio-girls, idiot.”
He laughed. “Me either. I had a semi-serious relationship back on Earth, but she wasn’t willing to risk her life in the sinkhole. And then there was another one. She was almost too willing. Beautiful but no challenge. She came here with me, but things fizzled out.” Before Alexia could respond, he reminded her, “You’ve had a string of lovers yourself, right? Art McKay—”
“I told you, your father butted in before Art got me access to NASA. Thus Art never got access to me.”
“What about George Rendem-Sayers? That was a coup, right? And Lorenzo Nolo? And that Barbary freak?”
Her stomach clenched at the bizarre intrusion into her sex life. “You had me followed? All this time?”
“You threatened to bring Sea-Mont to its knees. To destroy Dad personally and professionally. So yeah, we kept an eye on you.”
She grimaced, acknowledging the fair point. Still, it seemed so creepy. So un-TJ.
But apparently he really had changed, because he added in a cool tone, “Your father and brother must have been rolling in their graves, seeing you slut yourself out like that.”
“There’s that mean streak again,” she accused sadly. “But you’re right about one thing. I have been playing you, just a little. Not because I don’t care. I just need to work my way back to you. You sided with your father when I needed you most, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t resent it. But I wasn’t lying when I said we would end up together. Dad wanted it. Trent wanted it. And you and I have both wanted it off and on forever. We just need to get back into sync.”
His gaze warmed. “If it’s really just resentment, and you’re willing to recapture what we had—not just as lovers, but as family too—that’s good enough for me.”
“So? Will you walk me home? I really am beat.”
“Sure.” Crossing back to the dining table to fetch her jacket, he added smugly, “You’re off the hook for tonight. But tomorrow, we pick up where we left off the night of Trent’s party. Right?”
Her heart sank at the calculating—almost threatening—statement. She couldn’t blame him for being suspicious of her motives, but she had counted on him to coax her back into love by being his old self.
She didn’t know this new TJ, and wasn’t sure she could trust him. Except, of course, beneath this jaded exterior, he was still the same guy, buried under an avalanche of guilt, hurt feelings and abandonment.
She needed to rescue Trent first and foremost, but maybe in the process she could save TJ. If sleeping with him could provide access to the Sea-Mont Prototype and neutralize David Seaton’s monstrous influence, well then—
Maybe things really can go back to how they were.