Never Tempt Danger

by Denise Robbins

  “Nervous?”

  She gave a weak shake of her head. Nervous? Was he kidding? She was as nervous as a cat in a thunderstorm. If she could runaway and hide, she would. Which was completely ridiculous since she had just spent the night with him in a no tell motel. This was different. This was his house. A place she had once considered their home until the day he walked out. Until the day, he found out about her freakishness. Then a week later, she received a box in the mail. He had shipped all of her things back to her, making the break final.

  “Trust me. It will be fine,” he assured her and slid out of the car shutting the door behind him.

  “Trust him.” She swallowed and inhaled deeply. Did she have a choice? Besides, was it him she did not trust or herself?

  * * * *

  The little liar, he thought as he exited the vehicle. He may not be able to read minds, but he could certainly read her. The way she glanced down, sucked on her lower lip, and toyed with the gold chain around her neck were Maureen mannerisms for high-strung nerves. Damn, she was cute.

  He felt as nervous as a teenage boy taking a girl on a first date. His heart raced and his palms were sweating, but he was as giddy as a school kid on the first day of summer. Maureen Gillman was back where she belonged, in his home. Their home. Now all he had to do was prove that to her while at the same time, protecting her from an unknown enemy and herself. Protecting her from herself was without a doubt going to be the biggest effort.

  Lucas moved around the car and opened the passenger door. Light flooded the inside of the vehicle and his heart skittered to a halt. His breath caught in his throat. She peered up at him from under dark red lashes with those green Irish eyes and his mind tripped back to the first time they made love. That night had been perfection, just like the woman. After sating themselves on each other for hours, she laid on top of him naked, her hands crossed on his chest, and her chin resting on her hands. She had looked up at him, a half smile curving her plump, very well kissed lips and he had known then and there that he would never want another woman the way he wanted her. He had known that what they participated in that evening was not sex. They had made love. For the first time in his life, he had made love to a woman. The only woman he had ever made love to since.

  Now as she peered up at him, he felt that same spark, that same lightning bolt. Gilly was the only woman he would ever make love to.

  When he opened the front door and flipped the switch to the foyer light, he noticed the fatigue on her face in the droop of her eyelids and the pallor of her skin.

  “Come on, sleepyhead. Let’s get you tucked in.” Without giving her a chance to balk, he scooped her up and into his arms.

  “Lu—ca—s,” she halfheartedly whined, resting her head against his shoulder.

  He grinned and took the flight of stairs with a dozing Gilly in his arms up to the bedroom level of the house. It killed him not to take her into the master suite, but knowing she would have a fit, he chose to tuck her into the small guest room two doors down. Tugging the covers back, he deposited her gently onto the bed fully clothed and pulled the sheet up to her waist.

  She made a small noise and shifted then fell silent once more. He should remove the sling. With quick, deft movements, he dispatched his shirt from around her neck and arm without disturbing his Sleeping Beauty. He pulled the covers up the rest of the way and stood with his hands tucked into his pockets admiring the woman who was perfect for him in every way. Then he bent down, brushed a stray lock from her exquisite face, and kissed her forehead.

  “Goodnight.” Straightening, he pivoted and exited the room, leaving the door open and the dim hall light on.

  After retrieving what few things they had from the rental car, he locked up and checked on Gilly one more time. She hadn’t budged an inch. He retired to his room and left the door cracked so he could hear her in case she needed his help. Lucas stripped down to his boxers, secured his weapon in his nightstand and crawled into bed between chilly sheets, all alone.

  Hands clasped behind his head and resting against his pillow, Lucas stared up at the shadow-filled darkness of his ceiling and listened to silence. His mind replayed her words as it tried to make sense of them. She never had the same emotional connection with Jimmy as she did with him. She never sensed him. The only time she had any intuition as far as Jimmy was concerned was right before he died. Her words haunted him. “She sensed the killer an instant before he shot Jimmy dead.”

  The significance of her statement hit him in the gut like a sledgehammer and left him nearly breathless. Someone she knew who had some kind of emotional or psychic connection with her had shot Jimmy. While she sat there with him and watched it happen. The revolting thought had bile rising in his throat. Who else did she have that kind of relationship with? Was it only people she had sex with? Relatives?

  “How does this whole psychic mumbo-jumbo crap work?”

  Was the shooter the same person who attempted to burn them alive at Jimmy’s brownstone? What about the car bomber? Had she sensed either of those events? He shook his head against the pillow. No. If Gilly had known, she would have warned him and saved herself. Right?

  “Geez.” He rubbed the heel of his hand against his eyes. “She did not have a death wish.” He refused to believe that. “But she had been stupid enough to go off on her own,” he mumbled to the shadows.

  He squinted in concentration and chewed on the inside of his lip. Gilly said something about being able to tune out. Was that like changing the station on the radio? What exactly did that mean? He rubbed at his forehead. Too many questions and not enough answers. Damn it! He felt useless, helpless, a position he was neither used to nor comfortable with.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Jimmy. Jimmy.

  There he was, standing in the lab in his dark slacks and white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. The robot, Morpheus, sat on the quartz counter next to the computer. When Jimmy looked up, he grinned at her, his eyes sparkled with laughter and warmth. She could not help but smile back when he looked at her like that.

  “Is it turned off?”

  “Yes. You don’t have to worry.”

  She shrugged in an attempt to play off his accurate comment. “What’re you doing?”

  “Trying to figure out how you do what you do?”

  She lifted one brow.

  “Why is it you can telepath something and Morpheus can read and respond to your brainwaves, but not mine?”

  Ah. “Is there anyone else in the lab?” Ever since the day the robot read her mind, Jimmy had been obsessed with it. The only good thing was the fact that he only worked on his obsession when no one else was around.

  “They’ve all gone for the evening.”

  Gilly inclined her head and raised a finger. “I’ve been giving that some thought. I think it is two-fold.” She could not believe she was actually going to share this with him, with anyone. “The biofeedback device needs some modifications.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Simple. Morpheus’s neural network is programmed to receive EEG, ECG, and EOG, but the biofeedback visor device only emits EEG patterns back.”

  Jimmy slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I can’t believe I did not think about that. I should have realized.”

  He started tapping on the keyboard of the computer and when Gilly stepped up behind him, she saw he had brought up the diagram of the visor with its listing of sensors. With a few more clicks, there were additional sensors added to the image.

  “That’s step one. The other step and I think the more challenging step is mental training. It takes a high-level of attention to maintain focus on what you want to instruct the robot to do or how to react. That focus is the key factor to this feature’s success or failure. Not everyone, probably very few people will be able to reach that level of mental control.”

  Jimmy’s mouth thinned. “You did it.”

  “Yeah, by accident that first time. Don’t forget that I have had
years, a lot of years to deal with this.” She waved her fingers at the side of her head. “I just don’t think this is something that we can expect to take off just because one or two people can possibly demo this.”

  “You don’t want this do you?” he asked tugging her to him and wrapping his arms around her waist.

  Hell, no! She did not want it. She wanted Jimmy to walk away from the whole idea before someone found out she was a freak. “I want to win this contract. I thought this was a great project that could help advance our defense and save some soldiers lives. I want to do what is right.”

  “I agree with you one hundred percent. There are many skeptics out there and they do not want robots to replace a live soldier in the field. They’re afraid they will take over and to be honest, there may be some reason to fear progress at this level when you can create an autonomous robot that learns. Let’s give them an option.”

  Jimmy kissed her nose and released her. He scooped up Morpheus, set him on the floor, and powered him on. Then he went back to the table and set the biofeedback visor on his head.

  “I’ll start and see what I can do then you can mentally chime in. You monitor the computer and track which sensors are hit while I do my part then we’ll reverse the roles.”

  She inhaled deeply and sighed, but did as he asked.

  When it was her turn, she did not require the mechanical device to instruct Morpheus. Thanks to the electromyography sensors, the robot responded to muscular movements so it blinked when she did and smiled. When the robot laughed mirroring her actions, a loud racket outside the lab broke her concentration.

  As built to do, Morpheus responded without any mental Wi-Fi instructions. It rolled to the door, paused and used its sensors to listen for sound. She and Jimmy were right behind him. The robot morphed, squeezed under the door, and slid into the hallway.

  Weapon drawn, she entered the hall with Jimmy at her side and peered down the dark corridors. She saw no one and heard nothing. Had someone been there? Who? Did they see?

  “Come on. It was nothing. It was probably just the air conditioning kicking on.”

  She did not think so, but she tucked her 9-millimeter back in the hip holster and shrugged off his hand. “Nothing? How can you say that? Someone—”

  “Maureen,” he interrupted. “Do you really have to carry that everywhere?” Jimmy asked as he clasped her upper arm, turned her around and steered her back to the lab.

  Gilly ignored him and shoved the lab doors open wide with both hands, sending them banging into the walls. She pulled up short. She was no longer in the lab. She was at the restaurant with Jimmy. The restaurant where he proposed.

  No.

  He was holding her hand, slipping the diamond on her finger. No. Don’t. She tried in desperation to tug her hand free, to move, anything to get Jimmy out of his chair, out of the line of fire, and into safety.

  The squeal of tires drew her attention. No! It was happening again. She turned back to Jimmy only it wasn’t Jimmy. It was Lucas sitting across from her, grinning at her, holding her hand, slipping the ring, emerald ring on her finger. Her breathing grew rapid. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession.

  The crack of a weapon rent the air. She looked toward the sound, saw the orange muzzle flash. “No!”

  She spun toward him. “Lucas!” Not Lucas. Please, not Lucas.

  The bullet struck his temple and his head exploded like a dropped Halloween pumpkin.

  “Nooo!”

  She gulped for air, grabbed at her stomach to prevent the vomit from coming up. “Lucas,” she sobbed. “No, no, no,” she wailed shaking her head back and forth. “Not Lucas.”

  Her scream jolted him awake and straight up in bed. The shriek of terror sent him into action. On the run, he grabbed his weapon from the nightstand and sprinted to her room. When her cry came again, his heart nearly stopped inside his chest. Was someone killing her? At the door to her room, he halted, and searched the room. There was no one else there. When she yelled for him, he went to her side, laid the gun on the table, and shook her shoulders.

  “Gilly.” He shook her shoulder, tapped her face. His fingers came away wet. Tears.

  She gave another earth-shattering scream. “Lucas!”

  What the hell was she reliving, seeing? He scooped her up, sat on the bed, and cradled her in his arms. “Shh. I’m here, Gilly. I’m right here.” His voice cracked with fear. “Please wake up,” he pleaded, rocking her back and forth, brushing a kiss to her sweat-soaked forehead.

  “Come back to me, sweetheart. Gilly,” he choked out. What should he do? He held her tighter to his chest, willed her to wake up.

  “Lucas?”

  He glanced down toward the soft voice and peered into confused and pained sea-green eyes. “Right here, Gilly. I’m right here and going nowhere,” he spoke into her hair.

  She clutched at him, buried her tear-streaked face in his shoulder. “I thought you were dead. Shot. Like Jimmy.” She sobbed and tears spilled onto his chest.

  “And you would have missed me?” he asked in an attempt to make light of her nightmare.

  “Oh, Lucas.” She wound her free arm around his waist and snuggled her nose into the hair on his chest. “It was so real.”

  “Tell me about it?” He watched her hesitate, biting her lower lip.

  “We were at the restaurant where Jimmy proposed.” His grip tightened on her possessively.

  “It was Jimmy. Then it was you.” She swallowed and licked her lips. “Then you were shot just like Jimmy and I couldn’t stop it.” She pummeled her small fist against his hard chest. “I knew what was going to happen, but I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop it.”

  “A bad dream. That’s all it was. A real bad dream,” he reassured her, closing his eyes and praying that’s all it was. He hoped it was not some kind of premonition. For both their sakes. “You’re safe now. With me.”

  * * * *

  Suddenly, Gilly was extremely aware of where she was and whom she was with. She stroked the dark hair at the nape of his neck.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “Your heart is racing.” Her heart raced too, but not from the nightmare. Lucas went to move and she whimpered.

  “I’m right here.” He held her closer.

  Going nowhere, she thought and pressed her lips to his chest.

  “Uh, Gilly.”

  “Hm,” she answered, flicking her tongue against the flat brown disc of his nipple. The quiver that rippled through him sent shivers over her body. With her free arm, she reached her hand up and entwined her fingers in his silky black hair, and tugged his head down. When his face was within an inch of hers, she leaned up, met his mouth with hers, and kissed him. The gentle, warm nature of the kiss was intoxicating. Lucas parted his lips and her tongue darted out to explore his mouth further. When he pulled back and peered down at her, she was breathless and his chest was heaving.

  “Are you sure?” he panted then kissed her again without giving her a chance to answer. If she could have spoken, she would have said, “Yes, hell yes!”

  His tongue invaded her mouth, plunging, searching. Erotic shivers went straight through her and pooled into liquid heat between her thighs. She was burning up and overdressed. She wanted out of her clothes, to feel his warmth, the heat of his skin pressing against hers. She wanted out of her jeans so badly it was as if they were hurting her. They were! She needed to be naked with him. With Lucas.

  “Please,” she gasped. “Out of my clothes.”

  Lucas didn’t respond. He didn’t help her get out of her clothes. Instead, he slipped a hand under her shirt. Her breath caught. She squirmed to get into a better position, to try to tug the shirt off, but he stilled her hand with his and kissed her. His tongue traced along her lips, teased her mouth and sent her blood to simmer. His hand slid up her rib cage and grazed the underside of her breast. She squeezed her eyes shut and silently begged him to touch her, to take her.

  Her eyelids sprang open. She moaned into the kis
s as he squeezed and rolled her nipple between his fingers. She arched her body up against him, pressed her covered breasts against his bare chest. She wanted more. She wanted his comfort, his arms wrapped around her, and she wanted to forget the last couple of days, block it out of her mind just for a little while.

  Breaking free from his kiss, she rasped, “Lucas.” Before she said another word, he shifted, lifted her from his lap. He placed her on her back on the bed then lay down next to her, his leg hooked over both of hers.

  “Comfy?” he asked, touching his lips to hers then trailing kisses down her neck, nipping at her collar bone then he replaced his hand on her breast with his mouth.

  Through the cotton of her shirt, she felt the moist heat of his mouth as he drew the nipple to a taut pebble. She writhed, rubbing her legs together. With her good arm, she stretched past her hip in an effort to get to his boxers. Her fingers just breached the elastic when he grabbed her wrist and pinned it above her head. Unperturbed, she carefully slid her sore arm down to her hip.

  “Uh-uh.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips. “You don’t want to hurt yourself.”

  “I want to touch you.”

  His answering grin was wicked and lascivious. She heard the button on her pants pop open and excitement raced through her as she thought she would finally be free of her clothing, her restraints. She was wrong. His hand glided down her stomach and paused at the top of her jeans. His fingers on her wrist readjusted as his other hand slid under her waistband. He toyed with the curls between her legs. His mouth reclaimed her breast, suckled. Then he parted her lips and stroked her, just a finger, ever so slightly against the spot. Lights exploded behind her eyelids in a rainbow of colors. Every muscle in her body tensed and her back bowed off the bed as the orgasm sent a tidal wave of pleasure rippling through her.