The Blue Link

by Carol Caiton

  He held her eyes for several seconds then looked away, apparently remembering their audience. He glanced casually around, then relaxed. "But let's get back to my original question. Will you tell me what motivated you to join RUSH?"

  She sighed. "It's complicated."

  His lips twitched. "You've got my full attention."

  "Um . . . yes. Well . . . ." She gave him a crooked smile and searched for a good starting point. A brief summary was all she wanted to explain, just a brief sketch.

  "I've always lived at home," she told him, "with my parents and an older sister. My father's an engineer. He earns a good income, but something happened around nine or ten years ago that put a terrible strain on us. A car accident. My sister was badly injured and her legs were crushed." She inhaled deeply. "My father had just started a new job with a new company and his medical coverage hadn't taken effect so the timing couldn't have been worse. Things—finances—became very tight. As soon as I was old enough I got a job to help out. I went to school during the day and worked at a department store most nights. I did the same while I attended college, and when I graduated and got a good job, I kept helping out."

  Simon listened without interrupting, his eyes steady on hers and she wondered what he was thinking.

  "To make a long story short," she concluded, "my sister decided I was missing out on life. She wanted me to have fun . . . to get a little crazy and—"

  "Are you saying RUSH was your sister's idea?"

  Her smile came naturally. "If you knew my sister you wouldn't be so surprised. Lydia has . . . an adventurous spirit. She set out on a mission to move me out of the house, then she plotted and schemed and didn't stop until she accomplished her goal. She was very methodical about it."

  "But you applied for an E-level 7 membership. Didn't your sister know you had no sexual experience?"

  Nina shook her head. "No. She didn't know."

  "And you didn't tell her."

  "No. She would have blamed herself for that too."

  Simon gave her an odd look, but she dismissed it. She didn't want to talk about blame or who was responsible for what.

  "So I came to RUSH one day for information," she said. "Lydia had been working on her scheme from the day you opened for business, so it took two years of manipulation before she finally bullied me into a corner." Again, she shook her head. "She wanted to provide me with an opportunity to break away, but when I drove here, I only meant to ask a few questions, then drive back home. I was dazzled though. By everything. I ended up starting the application process that day."

  Simon looked concerned. "I'm surprised the system didn't weed you out. The program is designed to pick up on women who apply for an R-link membership as a means of escape."

  Nina smiled. "I wasn't unhappy at home, so I wasn't the one looking at RUSH as a place to escape to." She shrugged. "As I said, I was dazzled. One of the security guards had taken me on a tour and I was so caught up in the sparkle, escape wasn't even in the back of my mind. So maybe that's what it picked up on instead."

  Before Simon could comment on her moment of insanity—no, her utter stupidity—she glanced at her watch and said, "It's late. I need to go."

  He pushed away from the table as she slid her chair back. "I'll walk you to your car."

  "You don't have to."

  "I know."

  She smiled. "Okay. Thank you. I'm parked at Checkpoint 2."

  CHAPTER 43

  Ethan watched the third monitor as Nina backed her car out of a guest slot and drove toward the exit. He rubbed his forehead, settled back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

  He was tired. Every night this week he'd been able to make it back to the house before she did, but not tonight. For the first time since she'd locked herself behind the gate at the Moon Orchid Spa Simon had approached her. Why? He'd been watching from the sidelines until tonight. Nina probably hadn't even known he was there . . . except for last night at the food court.

  So what had changed? Something had. That was damned obvious. Even from this side of a camera lens Ethan had felt the easy companionship between them at Magnolias. And here he sat, driving her right back into Simon's arms by taking himself out of the picture. Was that what he wanted? If Simon ended up married to her, he and Ethan could never salvage their friendship. The trust between them had been severed. Was he willing to give up Nina as well and lose all the way around? Was it possible to compete with a blue icon and win?

  He needed to go home. He needed to be sure Nina was safe inside, then take advantage of whatever sleep he was likely to get. Five hours was his guess.

  Reaching for the keyboard again, he backed out of the system and logged off. No doubt Jeremiah had been following his navigation through the circuits again. But the other man would have taken measures to ensure no one else picked up on it.

  * * *

  Nina slid beneath the blankets and stared into the darkness. As tired as she was, her thoughts were in a turmoil. She wasn't yet ready to drift off to sleep and Simon was the cause.

  Tonight had been one of those few occasions when communicating with him hadn't turned into a verbal sparring match. She'd let her guard down enough to enjoy his company and there'd been no battle of wills that so often ended with avoidance and zero communication.

  But she was vulnerable right now. After Ethan's rejection, Simon's determination to win her back fed her womanly pride. It was probably a natural reaction, but her feelings for him were stirring to life again. The question was, could she trust him?

  I want you to know, if I had been in love with you, no power on earth could have lured me into the situation you walked in on.

  Sighing, she rolled over onto her side . . . and forgot to breathe.

  Standing in the open doorway, his large frame a silhouette in the moonlight, Ethan stood, one hand braced on the frame.

  Without thinking, she pushed the covers aside and scrambled to her feet.

  "Ethan?"

  Hope bloomed inside. But she was afraid to move, afraid he'd turn and walk away if she did.

  Four predatory strides brought him into the shadowy room. He closed the distance between them, brought his hands up, and slid his fingers into her hair. For long electrified seconds he stared down into her eyes. Then his mouth crushed down on hers, forcing her lips apart and demanding compliance as his tongue plunged inside.

  She complied. She was willing to follow wherever he led.

  In the next moment, however, she was free, staring at his retreating back as he walked away.

  Her boneless knees gave out and she sank down onto the bed.

  Oh, God.

  Shaking, confused, exhilarated, the last thing on her mind now was sleep. He'd kissed her as though he'd been starved for the taste of her and she wanted to relive every moment.

  Still trembling, she shifted toward the center of the bed, slid beneath the covers again, and tried to slow her breathing. Why hadn't he said anything? And why had he been wearing a coat?

  * * *

  The following night Simon once again stood outside the Moon Orchid Spa waiting for her. This time, however, Nina was prepared, having wondered beforehand if he'd be there. Several other women had apparently wondered the same thing since half the tai chi class trailed in her wake.

  Without a faltering step she walked directly to the biometric scanner, opened the gate, and exited the courtyard with a smile. Nothing—not even a group of gossip-hungry women—could spoil her good mood tonight.

  "Hi," she said, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

  "Hi." He glanced at their audience, lifted a brow, and slid his arm across her shoulders. "Good class?"

  "Yes it was." She fitted herself against his side and lowered her voice. "You're taking advantage of this aren't you?"

  "Believe it."

  She looked up and was treated to one of his rare smiles.

  "Coffee again?"

  She almost regretted turning him down. That smile did funny things to her
insides and she was tempted to keep exploring this warmer side of him. But the fact was, she wanted to go home. She'd waited around this morning, hoping to see Ethan before they left for work, only to discover he was the one who had gotten up early and left the house. She didn't want to believe he might still be avoiding her, so she consoled herself with the possibility that he might have been called to RUSH for some reason.

  "No, no coffee tonight," she told Simon. "It's been a long week."

  "Tomorrow's Saturday. You can sleep in."

  She shook her head. "Not for long. I have a ten-thirty class."

  "Then I'll walk you to your car. The gossip mill is going to be disappointed."

  "I'm sure you're right."

  They strolled in silence, Simon holding her close. "You like it here, don't you?" he asked.

  "Yes, I do. It's a fascinating place. It's beautiful, it's mysterious, and I'd bet my life that most of the classes you offer here aren't offered anywhere else on the planet."

  "You'd win your bet. But you're here every night. Weekends too."

  "I try to give Ethan as much privacy as possible." She tilted her head back so she could see his face. "I told you that before."

  "Yes I know." He met her gaze. "But I thought— Never mind." He looked away and steered her toward the checkpoint. "What about your new job? Is that working out for you?"

  "Yes. The work is challenging and absorbing. Sometimes I lose track of time."

  "Statistics do that for me," he said. "For Michael it's computers. And for Elliott, the architect of all this—" he gestured a sweeping hand at their surroundings, "it's blueprints and design."

  "One man put all this together?"

  "Yes and no. I told you the initial idea was Michael's." He guided her around oncoming foot traffic. "We all had a vision of what we wanted, but it took Elliott's talent and an endless number of renderings to bring it all together. So I suppose the physical manifestation is essentially his."

  They passed through the checkpoint with only one follower in tow. The others had probably wandered off once they realized she and Simon were leaving.

  In the parking garage he nodded a greeting toward the guard walking the perimeter, then held her car door while she climbed in. "Drive carefully," he said. "It's Friday night."

  "I will. Thanks."

  She turned on the ignition and thought about what he'd told her, about the men who had submitted their ideas for RUSH, and wondered which of them had conceived of Threshold. Maybe it had been more than one. Maybe it had been all of them.

  Traffic was heavier than usual. Not only was it the start of a weekend, but there weren’t many days left to shop before Christmas. She tried an alternate route but found even the side streets were busy, so it took an extra few minutes to get home.

  Since it wasn't quite eleven, she went ahead and used the remote Ethan had given her, then steered her Toyota into the garage. His Audi, she saw, was parked in its usual place near the utility door and she quickly pulled her key from the ignition, hoping to see him before he went to bed.

  She nearly banged her knee on the bumper as she hurried around the front of the car. Nevertheless, she paused when she neared his Audi. The distinctive ticking of a hot engine caught her attention and she stopped to stare at the hood. Perplexed, she reached out and touched it, then drew her hand back. He'd been out as well. And apparently he'd arrived home just minutes ago. She remembered the coat he'd been wearing the night before and realized he'd gone out two nights in a row. Maybe he went out every night.

  She considered that. Maybe she'd been wearing herself out for nothing, lingering at RUSH until nearly midnight.

  A sobering thought occurred to her, catching her unawares. What if he'd accepted another link at RUSH? What if he'd been leaving the house shortly after she did, after eating the dinner she prepared for him, to go have sex with some woman? Where else would he go every night?

  A stab of pain brought tears to her eyes. She gripped the strap of her handbag tighter and continued on to the utility door. Through blurry eyes she pressed the appropriate combination on the keypad to let herself into the kitchen.

  It was dark but for the faint glow that filtered in from the foyer.

  And deserted.

  Had she really expected him to be waiting for her? That scorching kiss could have been delivered out of anger or spite or any reason at all. What the hell did she know about men anyway?

  * * *

  Waking up after a full eight hours of sleep, she felt no more rested than she had all week. The fact that she'd cried for some time before finally drifting off hadn't helped. Her eyes felt dry and gritty and her face was probably blotchy.

  With a small groan she rolled over, squinted at the digital numbers on her clock until they came into focus, then shut her eyes again. How much longer could she keep this up? She was tired, her heart was broken, and her future looked dim. It wasn't going to get any brighter either, not if she only fell for bullies who yelled at her, then left her by the wayside while they hooked up with other women.

  Well enough was enough. She may not have been the happiest girl in the world before joining RUSH, but she hadn't been miserable. Not like this. It wouldn't be long before she had enough money to move out. Then she'd put all of this behind her—Ethan, Simon, and maybe even RUSH. She could find pleasure in a million other things. Men, she'd discovered, were a lot of trouble once they showed their true colors.

  Using that burst of defiance to get up and moving, she pushed the covers aside, sat up . . . and smelled coffee.

  Setting off for the bathroom, she freshened up, swept her hair into a ponytail, then reached for the silky little bathrobe on the hook behind the door.

  She padded out to the kitchen on bare feet then paused at the threshold to consider her lack of attire. Beneath the robe she wore only a tank top and panties.

  Well, so what. If Ethan was in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee he'd probably get up and leave as soon as he saw her anyway.

  She took two steps onto the slate tile and her heart skipped a beat. Sure enough, he was seated on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. His hair looked as disheveled as hers probably did and one quick glance told her he was just as tired as she felt. Mentally she snorted. Maybe all those late nights and all that sexual activity was catching up with him.

  He looked up from his mug and she looked away.

  "Morning," he muttered.

  So now he wanted to talk, did he?

  Well she didn't.

  Ignoring him, she walked over to the coffeepot. This day was going to be difficult enough without another round of verbal warfare. Davidson, Davidson & Bligh's Christmas party tonight was going to require an alert mind and a lot of strategic thinking if Bill Durrand noticed her arriving without a date and began pestering her.

  "Well aren't you full of sunshine and smiles."

  Wonderful. He was in one of his sarcastic moods. Opening the overhead cabinet, she chose a cup and set it on the counter.

  Refusing to be baited, she filled her cup to the brim and took a careful sip.

  "Gee," he drawled, "thanks for sharing your coffee this morning, Ethan."

  With exaggerated care she placed her cup back down on the counter and turned to face him. "Leave me alone. I'm not in the mood for your abuse."

  In fact, she didn't want to share the same space with him in this mood. She picked up her cup and decided to take it to her bedroom.

  "Stepped over the line, did I?"

  She didn't answer.

  "Nina."

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  "Don't walk away from me."

  His tone was deceptively soft . . . the same tone he'd used the day she moved into his house . . . when he'd dared her to pick up the butcher knife she'd left on the bench.

  She paused, suddenly wary.

  "I want to know what game it is you're playing with Simon," he said.

  Slowly, she turned to face him. "Game? What do you mean?"


  "What do I mean? You walk into his arms as though that's right where you want to be. You stroll the grounds and smile at one another as though you share a private understanding no one else is aware of. And you stay out until all hours of the night to be with him. So tell me sweetheart, have you decided to let go of the past and take up where you left off?"

  Sweetheart.

  If she'd heard even a hint of warmth in that endearment she would have assured him nothing had changed. But there wasn't a whisper of gentleness . . . not even friendship in the assessing eyes that watched her.

  Then she realized there could be only one reason for such an accurate account of her actions. He'd been at RUSH with one of his links. What was left of her fragmented heart would probably shatter if he confirmed it. And still, like a masochist yearning for pain, she asked, "How do you know all this?"

  "I know it because I saw it. At RUSH."

  Her body jerked. It was worse. A hundred times worse than just suspecting it. A slideshow of snapshots flitted across her mind: Ethan with another blonde, flirting, laughing again, making love with her.

  She gulped in a breath of air but the pain was too close. It forced its way to the surface and emerged as a soft, wounded sob.

  Coffee sloshed over the rim of her cup as a shock of flooding tears poured down her cheeks. Hot liquid spilled down her legs and onto the floor and Ethan leapt from the barstool.

  "What the hell?"

  He seized the cup from her hand, thrust it into the sink, then grabbed a fistful of paper towels. "Stand still!" he commanded, bending down to mop her legs, her bare feet, then the floor.

  Fighting another shudder, she struggled for control. You can't lose someone you never had, she told herself. Ethan was part of RUSH and he was free to have sex with as many women as he wanted. One passionate fling in the kitchen didn't mean he cared. It only meant he'd desired her. Once. He'd even told her it wouldn't happen again.