Silk

by Pillow Michelle M.

  * * * *

  Quinlan’s flesh was on fire. The thin red silk was no match for Nikandros’ hands on her body. If anything, it had made his touch all the more erotic. She swallowed, knowing he was a distraction to her. She had a duty to her father to find out who killed him. She had a duty to herself to put an end to the whole formula mess once and for all. No one would be getting the formula. No one. Not even a handsome stranger with the body of a God and the dance moves to match.

  It didn’t take Quinlan long to realize Nikandros seduced her for her father’s formula. Everyone who was anyone at the party had hinted at its existence in one subtle way or another. Finding the murderer was proving harder than she first imagined. She’d just have to wait for that one person who would threaten her. She’d dangle hints of it all around until whoever burned badly enough with greed would come forward.

  Nikandros would have been too young when her father died to be a big part of the conspiracy, but what of his father? Did he come to fulfill a family legacy? She would have to be very cautious of him.

  The blood in her veins was still heavy with desire and the persistent throb in her stomach that only grew each passing moment until she thought she might explode. Quinlan knew she would also have to be very cautious of herself. She wanted Nikandros like she had never wanted anyone—so much more than she had wanted that fumbling idiot who’d taken her virginity after her father died. She’d been on a self-destructive path of self-loathing at the time, hating her father and herself for what she had become.

  But that was then, before she had discovered the true depths of her gift and her curse. Her father’s formula had made it one and the same. She was cursed to be alone, blessed to be a heroine. She’d done a lot of good in the last ten years. She’d saved lives, helped the helpless. And not once did anyone discover their helper. Her life was a complicated secret and she preferred to keep it that way.

  Crossing over to her bedroom fireplace, she pushed a brick. A small door slid open and she ducked into the secret passage. Ignoring Silk’s bodysuit hanging on the wall of the small den, she walked quickly past it into a narrow hall that led out into the garden. When she emerged, she was behind a rose bush. She closed her eyes, listening, taking quick stock of her surroundings with her sensitive hearing. The closest person she could detect was fifty yards to her right.

  Quinlan straightened, walking out into the moonlit garden as if she had been there all along.

  “That was an interesting trick. You’ll have to show me how you did that.”

  She shivered. A smile came unbidden to her excited, panting lips at the sound of his voice. Turning, she watched Nikandros alight from the shadows. She hadn’t sensed him there.

  Cocking her head to the side, she shot him a sultry smile and asked, “Are you stalking me, Dr. Grant?”

  Chapter Four

  Nikandros watched the blue moonlight play across Quinlan’s lovely features. He’d sensed more than saw her coming from the side of the home. Unable to help himself, he went to her. He tried to tell himself that it was his duty to go to her. But as he felt the burning desire in his loins, he knew that it was something else altogether that spurred him on.

  “I should have you thrown out for this,” Quinlan said after a long moment of impassioned silence. Sparks flew between them and they each knew it.

  Instead of answering, he smiled.

  “I have a feeling you are a dangerous man, Nick Grant,” Quinlan said. They were hidden by the shadows of a tree from the rest of the guests. The feel of him dancing with her had not lessened and she wanted to go eagerly back into his arms.

  Nikandros took the low, sultry words as an invitation to go forward.

  “And you, my dear, are a mystery.” His hand lifted to her cheek. Her eyes dreamily closed at his touch. There was no point denying the desire between them. It blazed on the night like stars shooting across the heavens.

  “So we’re agreed?” she sighed, letting him feel her. She was too weak to protest. He had taken up too many of her thought as of late. “We don’t trust each other.”

  Her lips parted, begging him to taste her.

  “Not in the slightest,” he whispered back, leaning to claim her mouth with his. His fingers glided to her slender neck, holding her steady and light, as he felt the pulse racing beneath her flesh.

  Quinlan moaned to feel him. The contact felt odd after being alone and untouched for so long. His lips were tender, persuasive, teasing. When his tongue edged forward, tasting the champagne on her lips, she gasped in excitement.

  Nikandros nearly groaned to hear the soft, feminine plea. In that moment, she almost sounded helpless, vulnerable. He drew back to study her face. Her eyes were closed to him, her lips still parted.

  Quinlan felt as if she was in a cloud. She wanted him to keep touching her. She wanted him to kiss her, to make love to her. His hand was so gentle against her body. His lips were so firm and commanding, yet giving. She’d felt his kiss all the way to her curling toes. Her body burned. She felt ... she felt a vibrating at her throat?

  “Quinlan?” Nikandros said when she didn’t move.

  “The lab,” she whispered, blinking to awareness. Her hand went to her throat. Beneath the crossing of silk, the silent alarm vibrated against her skin. Someone was breaking into her father’s laboratory. Jolting into action, she ran toward a servant’s entrance to the house.

  Nikandros had heard her soft whisper and moved to follow behind her as she darted away. Quinlan ignored him, intent on finding out who was trying to steal her father’s formula.

  She tore through the servant hall and the kitchen, ignored by the robotic staff as she whipped past them. They continued working, loading trays full of champagne and wine, caviar and toast points.

  With a push of a button, a stone wall moved and shifted, creating an entrance into a separate hall. Nikandros grabbed her arm as she tried to rush forward. The door shut, sealing them in the passageway. Dim red lights switched on to part the darkness.

  “Quinlan, wait,” he commanded. His gaze easily detected her in the darkened light. Her skin glowed eerie in the red and her gown looked as if it bled from her body. “You don’t know who—”

  “I can take care of myself,” she growled, jerking her arm away. With a few narrow turns, she opened the secret entrance into the laboratory.

  The room was dusty, almost exactly like her father had left it all those years ago—aside from what she had moved out for the museum display. Stiffening, she stopped and listened. She felt Nikandros take up her elbow, as if he would push her behind his back to protect her. She would have laughed at the chivalry, if the situation weren’t so serious.

  Quinlan knitted her brow in concentration, hearing a noise on the far side where her father’s thinking couch still sat. William had spent many hours lying on the old piece of worn furniture as he figured out scientific equations.

  Suddenly, a giggling rose and a woman’s voice said, “Oh, but you’re programmed to be a quiet one, aren’t you?”

  Quinlan frowned, glancing over at Nikandros. He too studied the couch.

  “Now, where’s your control panel?” the woman murmured. “I know you’ve got to have one here some...oh, here it is. Let’s see...yellow and red make erection.”

  Quinlan instantly stepped forward. She grimaced. On her father’s old couch was Mrs. Nathaniel with the butler unit. She had his uniform lifted off his slightly rounded stomach was trying to reprogram the unresponsive unit to....

  “Excuse me,” Quinlan said. “This room is off limits. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t reprogram the help.”

  Nikandros hid his chuckle at the wryness of her tone. Mrs. Nathaniel blinked, nearly screaming in surprise at being found out.

  “Get back to the party before I tell your husband you have a robot fetish,” Quinlan ordered. The woman nodded her head and scurried off, her face coloring in horror and mortification.

  Quinlan sighed in frustration. She had been so sure she wa
s going to solve the mystery. Disappointment was hard to swallow. She went to the unit and began rerouting the wires to their original settings.

  “How did you know she had a robot fetish?” Nikandros asked, a suspicion forming in the back of his mind.

  “Lucky guess,” she murmured in distraction. She righted the uniform. “Only a woman with a robot fetish would know which wires to cross.”

  The butler unit blinked and sat up. “Welcome home, Miss.”

  “Restart program,” ordered Quinlan. The butler nodded and blinked. He stood before her. “Back to your post.”

  The butler silently walked out the laboratory door.

  “So, this is your father’s lab?” Nikandros asked, looking around when they were alone. He remembered the place well. He had spent many hours with William in it. William had been a good man with a truly pure heart and had treated him like a son.

  “It was,” Quinlan said, a hard edge to her tone.

  Nikandros studied her. Her eyes were no longer soft or dreamy when she looked at him. She moved, glancing around to see if anything was disturbed. His body still burned for her, wanting to draw her back into his arms.

  With that in mind, he went to her and ran the backs of his fingers over her bare back, from her neck to her side. He lightly let his fingers dip beneath the silk to land on her waist in a most intimate caress. She trembled beneath his hand. Nikandros leaned into her, letting her feel the hard length of his desire against her hip.

  Nikandros wanted nothing more than to pull up her gown and passionately take her right there in the laboratory. His mind came up with many splendid options—the desk, the couch, the floor, backed up against a wall. He dipped his head near her neck, intent on kissing her nape and exploring the soft skin of her body further.

  “Can we pick up where we left off?” he hushed, sending a wave of tremors over her spine at the thought.

  Quinlan pulled away and walked to the door. His hard body had burned her through the silk of her gown and she became nervous. “I can’t. I have guests I must attend to and a speech to give.”

  Nikandros sighed. As he moved to follow her, his hand darted to a table and pulled a sheet from a dusty file. Deftly, he tucked it into his pocket. When she turned around to glance at him, he smiled angelically at her.

  Quinlan frowned in suspicion, nodding her head to indicate he should leave first. Nikandros walked boldly past, stopping long enough to send her a heated look of tempered desire. Quinlan shivered, watching him walk down the hall. Then, looking back over the laboratory, she whispered, “Sorry, dad. Don’t worry. I’ll get them next time.”

  * * * *

  Quinlan’s speech was short and sweet. She sung praises about her father’s earlier works and alluded enigmatically to his later ones. Mrs. Nathaniel was next to her husband, looking properly mortified as she refused to meet Quinlan’s eyes. During her speech, she felt Nikandros’ dark gaze on her from the back of the crowd, stabbing into her with his denied passion. No doubt he was upset by her dismissal of him.

  “Very lovely,” Henry said to her as she stepped back down from the podium to rejoin the party. His hand lifted, as if to touch her back, but hesitated and merely hovered as he tried to guide her into the crowd.

  “Thank you,” Quinlan acknowledged. She saw Nikandros watching her from the distance, his eye alighting possessively on her. His jaw stiffened and he didn’t make a move to come to her.

  Quinlan shivered.

  “Is something wrong?” Henry asked.

  Quinlan blinked in surprise and turned to him.

  “You look pale,” he continued.

  “I’m just tired. It’s been a long night,” she answered.

  Henry nodded, seeming to understand.

  * * * *

  Nikandros watched Quinlan’s face stiffen as she talked to Henry. He wondered what they could have been discussing that would make her skin turn pale like that. Her eyes darted to the man as she answered him, before moving around the crowd. Nikandros dipped back into the shadows, slipping out of sight.

  * * * *

  Quinlan heaved a sigh of relief as the guests left. She was glad the party was finally over. Henry had been the last to leave, promising to send over movers first thing in the morning to take the glass cases and oversized photograph to their permanent new home in the museum. His eyes had looked her over as if he wanted to ask her something personal, but she yawned heavily for show and bid him goodnight before he could speak.

  Leaving the maid units to clean up the mess, she grimaced to discover someone had thrown up in her broken water fountain. It only served as a reminder of why she hated throwing these functions. If she never did it again, she’d be happy.

  After ordering the security droids to search and scan the entire premises, Quinlan slowly made her way to her bedroom. The house was again quiet, just as she liked it. The droids ignored everything but their task at hand.

  Her bedroom was dark and she called for fire, not bothering to ask for more light. With a pull of two hairpins, her hair spilled down over her shoulders. She dropped the clips on her vanity and kicked off her shoes. The maid unit switched on, picking up after her.

  “Shower,” Quinlan called, crossing over to the bathroom door next to the fireplace. She reached to unclasp the straps at the back of her neck when a voice stopped her.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  For a moment, Quinlan thought it was her fantasy coming to life. Her hands dropped, leaving the dress on. Turning slowly on her heels, she saw Nikandros lounging on her bed, a wide smile on his face as he watched her.

  “Please, don’t stop what you were doing on my account.” His words were low and sultry. His eyes glowed with meaning as he looked at her gown. The orange glow of the firelight gave his gaze a seductive glow.

  “Privacy,” Quinlan demanded.

  Nikandros arched a brow in confusion at the order until she saw the maid unit leaving.

  “What are you doing in here?” she asked when they were alone, a little too unsure for her liking.

  “I thought you might like to see me,” he said, bringing his feet around the edge of the bed. His tuxedo jacket was off, lying across one of her chairs. “Since we were interrupted last time.”

  Quinlan swallowed. It was more than her erotically charged brain could take in, seeing him next to her bed—a place where the naughtiest thoughts of him had occurred.

  “I didn’t invite you in here,” she said, taking an unwitting step back. Her legs shook, as she debated what to do. Did she take him up on his offer and let him shower with her? Or did she call for her droid guards and have him dragged out of her home?

  “I think you should let me stay,” he murmured, as if he easily read her thoughts in her expression.

  “What do you want?”

  At that, he smiled, coming forward until he towered above her. His hand lightly touched her throat, running down over her breast in a tender stroke. Quinlan gasped as her nipple budded to instant attention against a circling thumb. He smiled a devilishly wicked smile.

  “That, my darling,” he whispered, his eyes daring her to run. “I would think was most obvious.”

  Quinlan gasped as he seized her hand firmly in his and pulled it onto his full arousal. It was rigid beneath her palm, thick and ready for impaling.

  “I want you.” A low growl sounded in the back of his throat.

  Quinlan shivered at the admission. His mouth dipped forward to swallow anything she might say. She trembled at the onslaught of his lips. This searing kiss wasn’t tender like the one in the garden. It was hard and demanding—just like the rest of him. His teeth devoured her, biting. His tongue soothed the wounds, licking and teasing, stealing her breath.

  Before she knew what was happening, his tongue dipped into her mouth and his hands were on her thigh, lifting her silk covered leg up to his waist. How could she resist? Every part of her body begged her to give into him. Without thought or reason, Quinlan’s hands moved all over him, pul
ling at the white linen of his shirt to bare his chest to her. Buttons snapped off at her eager exploration to reveal his smooth chest, molded in hot perfection.

  Their panting moans rose up between them. The silk of her gown was no match for his branding heat. Each toned muscle rippled when he pressed himself against her. The doorframe dug into her tender back. She didn’t care.

  With a groan, Nikandros pulled away. His hot eyes tinged with red as he looked her over. Her leg dropped to the ground.

  “Remove the dress,” he ordered fervently.

  Quinlan had to obey. He was every fantasy she had ever had rolled into one man of flesh and bone. At the moment, she didn’t care who he was or that he might be using her. She couldn’t care, not when her body burned with such passionate ardor.

  Taking her hands to her neck, she pulled her dress free. The material whispered over her skin, pooling on the floor at her feet. She was completely naked under the gown. His eyes narrowed as he took her in—her round breasts, the pleasant shading of her nether region. His lips parted and the look on his face said he was pleased, very pleased.

  His hands at his waist, he looked past her to where the steam from the water shower had begun to fog the bathroom. He licked his lips and unbuttoned his pants and they slipped from his waist. Kicking out of his clothes, he stood naked before her. “I want to make love to you.”

  Quinlan’s eyes widened as she looked him over. Not an ounce of fat marred his thick frame. The wide base of his desire stood tall, frightfully persuasive in its large size. Not even in her dreams had he been this delectable. She couldn’t speak.

  “You’re exquisite.” He continued to stare. “I want to make love to you in the shower.”

  Quinlan’s mouth went dry. She slowly started to back away from him into the shower stall. As her back hit the door, she had to turn around to get inside. Before she could face him once more, she felt his hands on her naked back.