Meltdown

by Ruth Owen

  “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

  Chris drew a deep breath. “No one, and I mean no one, has made love to you like I’m going to make love to you. I don’t want to move too far too fast—”

  “Chris?”

  “Yes?”

  “Shut up.”

  Restraint was forgotten. She pulled him to her, feeling him slip deep inside her. The moan he uttered was more animal than human, matching her own carnal need. They moved together, flesh to flesh, desire burning out every thought except their hunger for each other. Tangled in passion, they found it impossible to tell where one body ended and the other began, until his final thrust shattered her consciousness and sent her spinning into bright oblivion.

  Melanie woke slowly, savoring the rich, gentle pleasure that flowed through her like sunshine. She’d had the most wonderful dreams—dreams of Chris making love to her in ways that made her previous fantasies seem like pale ghosts in comparison. Eyes still closed, she stretched like a contented cat, loving the feel of the soft, cool cotton against her flushed back and shoulders. She stretched out her arm in a lazy arc, searching for the mass of pillows she kept piled against the headboard—and came into contact with something warm, muscular, and distinctly unpillowlike.

  “And good morning to you too,” rumbled a deep male voice.

  Melanie’s eyes shot open. Chris was leaning back against the headboard pillows, grinning at her like a Cheshire cat. She saw why. Her hand had accidentally brushed his thigh in a way that could politely be termed “suggestive.”

  Melanie turned a dozen shades of red and sat up, pulling the loose sheet around herself. “I didn’t mean … I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not,” he said, his smile increasing as he eyed the sheet. “Don’t you think modesty’s a little … er, unnecessary after last night?”

  Not modesty, Melanie thought. It was self-preservation. The sight of Chris’s tanned, virile, and magnificently male form lying inches away from her threw her own body into chaos. A slow heat built in her center, and her breasts grew tight and taut, eager for his touch. The thin cloth barrier was the only thing keeping her from slipping into Chris’s arms and spending the day making mad, passionate love to him. And neglecting Einstein.

  She cleared her throat and tried valiantly to keep her eyes focused on Chris’s head and shoulders. “Chris, we’ve got work to do.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Melanie caught his provocative tone and smiled. “Not that kind of work. Einstein’s presentation is Wednesday afternoon—”

  “Which gives us three full days to finish testing. Besides, don’t you think E’s got more than enough to keep his microprocessors busy?”

  “What—” she began, then paled as memories of their violent and vocal lovemaking came to mind. “Good lord. He must have heard everything. What must he think of us?”

  “He thinks,” Chris stated, “that we’re two consenting adults enjoying the hell out of each other’s company … or trying to, anyway.”

  “Chris—”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, throwing up his arms. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. I’ll help you test Einstein—on one condition. There’s a party at the country club next weekend. I’d like to take you to that party. How about it?”

  Melanie blinked in surprise. “You want to take me? To the country club?”

  Apparently Chris noticed the hesitancy in her voice. “Okay, genius, what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” she assured him. “Nothing, except … well, I’m not very good at elegant parties. I always say and do the wrong thing. When I try to make polite conversation, I end up talking about binomial equations. And at my college prom I spilled a margarita all over a professor’s tuxedo.”

  Chris grinned. “No problem. I promise I won’t let you get near a margarita. Or a professor.”

  “Chris, I’m serious. I don’t want to embarrass you in front of all your friends. Wouldn’t it be better if you take someone else? There must be lots of women you could ask.”

  “Sure,” Chris said, his smile dissolving into a weary grimace. “Dozens. Hundreds. I’ve got black books overflowing with names of women. Doesn’t every playboy?”

  His words pierced her heart. Lord, how could she have been so unfeeling? She’d hurt him—the one person in the world she’d have given her life not to hurt. Suddenly Einstein’s testing seemed ridiculously unimportant.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you shouldn’t feel you have to take me because we’re … friends. I don’t expect it. I know you’re just being kind, but—”

  “Hush.” He bent over and laid his fingers against her lips, silencing her. “Now I want you to listen to me for a few minutes without saying anything. Will you do that?”

  Melanie nodded.

  Chris started to take his hand away, then apparently thought better of it, and returned to brush his thumb across her lower lip. “I suppose I should blame this mouth of yours. That first time I saw you in Dad’s office I decided you had the most kissable lips I’d ever seen.”

  Melanie’s eyes widened. She started to speak, but Chris’s hand stopped her. “Remember, no talking. Where was I? Oh yes, kissable lips. Nice legs too. And great … well, let’s just say I was interested. I wanted Einstein from the beginning. But frankly, I wanted you too.”

  Melanie sighed. Chris’s words flowed through her like bright water, washing away all the doubts and loneliness in her life. She closed her eyes and leaned into his caress, parting her lips under the gentle pressure of his touch.

  He continued, his voice growing low and intimate. “Last night you said that romance had always been a flawed equation for you. Well, it’s been that way for me. I’ve dated a lot of women, but quantity doesn’t mean quality. I didn’t know what I was missing until I met you.”

  Chris’s lips met hers in a teasing kiss that left them both smiling. “You are, hands down, the nuttiest person I’ve ever met. I’m never sure what you’re going to say, and even less certain about what you’re going to do—except that you fight for the things you believe in and care about. Like Einstein. And me.”

  His words ignited her. She cared for him so much. She ached to show him. Dropping the sheet, she went into his waiting arms, nuzzling against the wonderfully familiar warmth of his chest. “You mean so much to me,” she breathed. “How can I show you how much you mean to me?”

  He lowered her gently to the bed. “I’m sure we’ll think of something,” he murmured.

  Eleven

  Chris strode down the long hallway toward Sheffield’s executive conference room. “What’s the first thing to remember?”

  “Don’t panic,” Melanie answered as she hurried to keep up with him.

  “Very good,” he said, checking his watch. “And the second?”

  “The board members are only human.” She wished Chris would slow down. She had to take two strides for every one of his.

  “Excellent. I’ll make a saleswoman out of you yet. Now what’s the last?”

  “Never wear straight skirts.”

  Chris stopped in his tracks. “What?”

  “Well, you try running in this thing,” she said, struggling to smooth her creased pin-striped skirt. “It’s not easy.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Chris said, smiling. His smile faded as his gaze focused on the stiff, awkward movements of her usually graceful hands. He reached down and took her hand, cradling her nervous fingers against his warm, steady palm. “Melanie, I know facing the board makes you nervous. You don’t have to do this. I’m perfectly capable of handling this presentation on my own. There’s no reason for you to be in that conference room with me.”

  “There’s one,” she stated, trying to keep uncertainty from creeping into her voice. “I want to be there. We’re partners, Chris. Sink or swim, we’re in this thing together.”

  Chris looked at her for a long moment, his eyes warm with admiration. He raised her hand to
his lips for a quick kiss. “Together it is, genius. We are going to go in there and knock their socks off.”

  “That remains to be seen,” a familiar voice said behind her.

  Every muscle in Melanie’s body stiffened at the sound. She didn’t need to turn around to know the voice belonged to Duncan Sheffield.

  “Hello, Chris. Good morning, Miss Rollins,” he continued as he came to stand next to them. The look on his face was cold enough to give an Eskimo windburn. “I see you haven’t lost your enthusiasm for this, ah—miraculous computer of yours.”

  Chris’s mouth turned up in a wry smile. “That’s what I like about you, Dad. You’re so open-minded.”

  “None of that, young man,” his father said sharply. “After all, I agreed to let you have some of our valuable meeting time for your presentation—”

  “Correction. The board agreed to let us have the time, not just you. And, right now, the board is in there waiting for us to give a presentation. So, if you don’t mind …”

  From the redness in his cheeks Melanie could tell that Duncan minded very much, but Chris’s sensible words left little room for argument. With a final “humph” he walked the rest of the way down the hall and into the conference room, leaving Chris and Melanie alone in the hallway.

  Melanie took a deep, steadying breath. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

  “Don’t you believe it. Dad’s vote is important, but not essential to Einstein’s acceptance. We’ll concentrate on convincing the other board members.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and headed for the door. “Everything will work out just fine.”

  Melanie was far from convinced but she hid her concern, smiling bravely as she followed Chris through the paneled door. That smile died on her lips as she entered the conference room. Arrayed around the dark mahogany table that dominated the room were the eight members of the Sheffield board, looking about as inviting as a firing squad. Her stomach lurched.

  Chris bent to whisper in her ear. “Great. They look like they’re in a good mood today.”

  She gave him an incredulous look and mumbled, “I’d hate to see them when they’re not.”

  Chris gave Melanie’s hand a final squeeze as he turned to address the panel. “I know how busy you are, and I appreciate you”—he paused, glancing at his glowering father—“all of you, agreeing to give up some of your valuable time for this presentation.”

  Mr. Clavell smoothed the knife-edge creases in his lapel. “You’ve earned it, Chris,” he said in precise, clipped syllables. “You’ve negotiated some remarkable deals for Sheffield lately. I hope this presentation lives up to your previous accomplishments.”

  “It will,” Chris promised, pulling out a chair for Melanie. He gave her a devastating smile. “Trust me.”

  Melanie watched him walk to the podium in the front of the room and flip a switch on the control panel. The lights dimmed, and the projection screen at the front of the room displayed the first of his colored slides—a pie chart detailing the market percentage controlled by various computer manufacturers.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this graph illustrates the current erosion of Sheffield’s market share in the computer industry …”

  Melanie watched him with pride, knowing Einstein could not have a more impressive, enthusiastic advocate. Chris was dynamic, demonstrating Einstein’s complex functions in a simple, attention-grabbing manner that intrigued the board members. She glanced around the table and noticed with great satisfaction that even Chris’s father seemed grudgingly impressed. The long hours Chris had spent preparing Einstein for this day were paying off. He’d brought out the best in her ragtag computer. Just as he brought out the best in her.

  Chris’s words flowed over Melanie. She knew them by heart. She’d listened to him practice the presentation a dozen times during the last few days. She knew the way he’d use his hands, gesturing eloquently as he explained the vast and varied opportunities E would open for them. Her eyes focused on his hands and she blushed, remembering the way those same hands had explored every part of her body.

  Chris’s tenderness, his passion, his loving concern had renewed her, replacing her worn-out emotions as surely as he’d replaced Einstein’s old parts. These last precious days with him had made up for a lifetime of loneliness. Never again would she think of herself as unattractive, or undesirable, or unloved. She blushed when she thought of the number of times they’d made love—including an episode among the packing crates in her living room that gave a whole new meaning to the warning Caution: Contents Highly Volatile. He’d given her so much … and all she could offer in return was a weak smile and a nervous stomach.

  A nasal voice on her right brought Melanie out of her trance. “I don’t understand,” said Mrs. Pinch, a brusque but highly respected industrial designer. “Why is this prototype better than any of the other superpowered computers available in today’s market?”

  Chris smiled. “Well, Emma, I always say ‘a picture’s worth a thousand words.’ Why not give it a design problem to solve?”

  Emma Pinch quoted a rapid-fire list of design specifications, a list that taxed even Melanie’s sharp memory. “All right,” she said when she’d finished, “let’s see what the computer makes of all that.”

  “Think you can handle it, E?” Chris asked.

  Einstein’s response took less than a minute. He flashed a diagram of his theoretical design on his monitor, an image that was automatically transmitted to the larger projection screen. Emma gave a low whistle. “It took the Vax at Lasertech a week to come up with that same design. This is remarkable!”

  “Improved processing speed is just one of the unit’s enhancements,” Chris said, smiling proudly. “Einstein could handle a dozen such equations simultaneously. Isn’t that right, E?”

  Piece of toast, E flashed.

  Low chuckles rippled around the table. Melanie leaned back in her chair and breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. The board members accepted E, irreverent dialogue and all. The presentation was going to be a success—if Duncan Sheffield kept an open mind.

  Duncan cleared his throat, effectively gaining the attention of the other members. Apparently success wasn’t going to be as easy to attain as Melanie had hoped. She looked down to the end of the table, fearing the worst.

  “There’s no denying this is an impressive presentation,” he acknowledged. “But I feel it is my duty to point out that this prototype was presented to me less than a month ago, with less spectacular results. A hardware problem rendered the unit completely inoperable. The Sheffield name has always stood for quality in the computer industry, and I don’t know if this computer can live up to our high standards of reliability—”

  “It can.”

  It took Duncan a moment to realize it was Melanie who’d spoken. It took her a moment to realize it herself. Public speaking of any kind filled her with apprehension, especially to a roomful of high-powered corporate executives. But she had to speak. She couldn’t sit quietly and let Duncan unjustly accuse Einstein—and by association, Chris—of being unreliable. It wasn’t fair.

  “Mr. Sheffield,” she began, fighting to keep her voice steady, “you can’t judge Einstein by that last presentation. Since then Chris and I have completely overhauled the systems, replacing every part that needed it.”

  Duncan looked far from convinced. “Every part? I find that hard to believe. A job like that would take months.”

  “We worked day and night,” she said forcefully, warming to her subject. “Frankly, Einstein was so full of worn-out parts, it’s a miracle he functioned at all. But Chris looked past the hardware problems. He got the parts I needed, and helped me replace them, so that E would be working at top capacity for this meeting.”

  Several of the board members murmured in approval, but not Duncan. Though his quelling expression had softened, he still looked uncertain. “Are you saying my son gave up his free time to work on this computer?”

  “Dad, don’t look s
o surprised,” Chris said, entering the debate. “I saw a great deal of potential in Einstein. I have faith in him. And, I might add, in his inventor.”

  A deep warmth suffused Melanie, a warmth that even Duncan’s muttered “humph” couldn’t entirely destroy. Chris believed in her. Granted his belief didn’t solve everything—Duncan continued to glower at her, and her stomach felt delicate at best—but she felt she could bear it. She’d make herself bear it, for Chris’s sake.

  As the presentation continued Emma Pinch and the other board members resumed their exhaustive examination of Einstein. E performed brilliantly, but occasionally he was asked a question Melanie had never anticipated, and answered incorrectly. Every missed question weighed on Melanie’s heart like a brick on a scale, and as the number of questions mounted so did her anxiety about the presentation’s outcome. She squared her shoulders and sat straight in her chair, trying to hide her inner turmoil. Just let me get through this next minute, she prayed. Just let me get through this next second.…

  “With your permission, I’d like to take a brief intermission,” Chris said as he left the podium and walked in her direction.

  Melanie blinked. Intermission? There wasn’t supposed to be an intermission in their presentation. “Chris, what are you doing?” she whispered when he reached her.

  He placed his hand under her arm and helped her up, guiding her out into the hallway. “I’m getting you out of here.”

  “I don’t want to leave,” she protested. “I want to help you—”

  “I know you want to help,” he told her gently, “but your nervousness is making me very uncomfortable. I’m so busy being concerned about you that I can’t give my full attention to Einstein.”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  Chris gently grasped her shoulders and turned her toward him. “You’ve got many talents, but hiding your feelings isn’t one of them.” A smile played at the edges of his lips. “Take, for example, what you said to my father.”

  “I hope I didn’t ruin things,” she said hurriedly. “He didn’t seem to appreciate what I said about you.”