Adam (3 page)

He took off at a brisk pace, and she scurried to catch his long stride.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’m risking a reaming by not following orders.”

“But at least you’re showing yourself to be human.”

He stiffened at her side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that I’m so used to you standing guard outside the lab, all emotionless and robot like. It’s nice to see you have feelings.” And a sexy voice to match the hot package.
God, I need a break.
More like sex. Her mind really was on a dirty roll today.

He laughed. “I am nothing like a robot. And I can assure you, I most definitely
feel
.”

Yes, he did feel, hard and strong, at least his fingers did as he kept a grip on her and propelled her down the hall at a fast march. Why the need to hold her she couldn’t have said. She wasn’t about to flee. Perhaps he did it so that it seemed he had the situation in control to those possibly watching from the many cameras mounted in the ceiling.

As they rounded the last corner before the locker area, he halted, jerking her to a stop. Turning a startled gaze his way, she said, “Why are we stopping?”

“You’re bleeding,” he stated.

“No, I’m not…” She trailed off and stared in consternation as he raised her hand. Angling her index finger, she noted the tiny pinprick of blood on the tip. She must have cut herself on the glass from the shattered vial.

Oh no.
Her gaze darted to meet his, the impact of the tiny wound making her heart race.

She’d cut herself on the debris but missed it during the decontamination. Not good. The usual procedure in such a scenario was to keep her quarantined, watching and testing her for at least five days for even for the tiniest of possible infections.

I don’t want to be put in lockdown.
It sucked, mostly because she hated small spaces and she couldn’t abide cable television. She’d much prefer to read or work in her lab, but those things would be denied her.

Such a tiny, tiny wound, yet the soldier’s choice was clear. He had to report her.

Or not.

Holding her gaze, he lifted her finger tip to his mouth and dabbed it with his tongue. A shiver went through her, definitely not cold induced.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, her voice huskier than usual.

“Never heard of a kiss to make it better?”

“Embracing it with lips doesn’t heal.”

“And yet, you’re more relaxed than you were a moment ago.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. It’s hard to be relaxed when you’ve got the prospect of getting locked in a cell for observation for almost a week.” And she didn’t doubt they would lock her up, even for a sample they’d reassured her was benign but still required the following of rules for contagion.

He arched a brow and smiled. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

Seriously? A brilliant smile illuminated her face. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You still have to get dressed and get moving if we’re going to keep the director from handing us both our asses.”

“I’ll just be a minute. Thank you.” On impulse, she stretched on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his cheek, an act no one could see because the smart soldier had halted them in between cameras to let her know of the blood.

Speaking of which, how had he known she bled? The cut was pinpricked sized. She’d not even felt it. He must have seen it somehow.

Keen gaze. Then again, she’d already sensed that about him, that he noted everything around him, down to the smallest detail.

Meeting her soldier in person, at last, brought her intrigue level up a notch. Great physique, handsome appearance, a fresh, clean scent—yes, she’d noticed as they walked down the hall—an observant personality, and a voice meant for decadent whispers.

He had to possess a flaw, and she was determined to find it, right after she found some underwear and got dressed.

Standing guard within the locker room, Adam did his best not to think of the pretty doctor stepping into underwear. Nor would he replay—again—the image of her removing them when forced to undergo decontamination.

It didn’t take a brilliant mind like his to know it embarrassed her. Red cheeks, downcast gaze, elevated heart rate. Even if he didn’t have orders to watch, he wasn’t sure if he could have looked away.

When the alarm clanged, he’d whirled, not because of protocol but because his first impulse was to ensure the doctor wasn’t unduly harmed.
Although why her well-being matters, I’ve yet to figure out.

To his relief—an odd emotion he almost didn’t recognize having not really encountered it before—she’d just had a clumsy moment, but that human lapse had led to some control-stressing moments as he was forced to watch her undergo the various levels of decontamination.

A proper gentleman would have looked past her. A true soldier would have leered. But Adam was a cyborg. He controlled his emotions and his acts. Cyber units always acted depending on what the most proper course was according to analysis of the situation.

Except in this situation, confronted with the nudity of a woman who fascinated him, he wasn’t a machine, but a man. He stared, he noticed, he lusted, and he felt. Felt aroused mostly.

In that moment it didn’t matter how many nude women he’d seen in his lifetime. There was something about watching Dr. Laura Cowen as she shyly stripped that hypnotized him, spun his mind into a loop that wouldn’t allow him to look away or to remain dispassionate.

When she exited, wearing only the thin lab coat, he kept reminding himself that she was off limits. No touch. NO. TOUCH.

The command struggled against his base wants. He didn’t let his primal instinct win.

Other than his grip on her arm, which was for any cameras watching, to make it seem like he was doing his job and the one in charge of their direction, he managed to stay focused, until he caught the hint of a wound.

I smell blood.
In between watching cameras, he halted them and brought her finger to his mouth, lapping it, feeling the sizzle of connection at the simple touch, seeing her eyes widen, not in consternation over his act but a reciprocated sensual interest.

The lick served a dual purpose. First, the receptors in his tongue could perhaps taste a trace of what the vial held. What did the doctor work on? Had enough of it entered her bloodstream for him to find out?

That was the most logical reason for his action. The second was selfish. It gave him an excuse to touch her. Lips on her skin.

She’d not startled or drawn away. On the contrary, her lips parted, her gaze softened, and her core temperature rose.

She is attracted to me.

A heady revelation he desired strongly to act on. As for when she kissed him quickly on the cheek? A good thing she left to dress out of sight in the woman’s locker room.

Was it wrong for him to wish, instead of organic orbs, he had a more advanced pair of robotic ones that could have seen through the portal and played voyeur?

What was wrong with him?
Behave.
Or at least pretend to.

He was a soldier with a job to do. A cyborg with a mission. Apparently not a very bright one, given he’d foolishly told the woman he’d cover up the fact she’d hurt herself.

If he got caught, he might be subject to more than a reaming. What if he was reassigned? He’d lose his chance at finding out the secrets of this military facility.

A smarter cyborg would have done his job and kept to the mission, which would have meant ratting out the doctor. Adam, though, didn’t always do things by the book. He liked to think of himself as more evolved and intelligent than the computer in his brain.

His human half helped him to process events differently than his BCI, hence his offer to keep quiet. A promise that served two purposes.

One. He wanted to gain her trust so he could perhaps foster a friendship and, in return, glean some information on the project she worked on. On the second hand, a tiny lick of the blood beading on her skin and he knew she didn’t pose a danger.

Forget a science lab analyzing her blood and running tests, the taste buds on his tongue did in seconds what normally took hours. She was clean of any infectious diseases, so no use reporting her for nothing.

In this instance, breaking the rules—which always gave him a little thrill—would work in favor of his mission. Or so he told himself as he waited for her to exit, which she did quickly, having dressed in record time for a female.

Unlike other human women, the doctor eschewed makeup and complicated hairstyles. She’d simply bundled her damp hair with an elastic, forming a messy bob atop her head.

It charmed him. He could have groaned in frustration. How messy could seem sexy to such an organized being, he couldn’t decipher. Nor could he stem the image of himself snapping the elastic and threading his fingers through her hair as it tumbled to frame her face.

Halt. Enough of this. Get your mind on the task.

As she approached, he gave a subtle sniff. He could tell by the lack of blood scent the tiny wound had sealed itself; no evidence to give them away.

“Ready to face the director?”

“Not really,” she replied with a wrinkle of her nose.

Trailing behind her—a view he quite enjoyed—Adam escorted her to their superior’s office, only a short distance away. Once there, he expected to be told to return to his post and keep an eye as the decontamination crew cleaned the affected area. To his surprise, the general stood at his receptionist’s desk and addressed him.

“Stay, Corporal. I won’t be long with the doctor. Once we’re done, I want you to accompany her wherever she goes.”

“Accompany me?” Laura frowned. “Since when do I need an escort everywhere I go?”

“Since our sources claim we’ve become a place of interest for a terrorist group.”

“Terrorists? But we’re a science lab. One that doesn’t even test on animals. Not to mention we’re supposed to be top secret. Why on earth would they target us?”

Casting Adam a look, the general gestured Laura to enter his office. “Come inside. We’ll speak there.” The implication? Where no one else could hear.

Adam could have smirked when the heavy door shut. As if his enhanced hearing wouldn’t hear. Forget keeping secrets.

Standing at ease in front of the receptionist’s desk, he tuned in his auditory receptors to hear what happened inside.

“So what’s this nonsense about terrorists?” Dr. Laura asked.

“It’s probably nothing, but given the price tag of the equipment and the top secret classification of our work here, we need to be careful.”

Did anyone but him notice the general’s concern was less about lives and more about material items?

“Careful of what exactly? What are we talking about? Staged protests? Graffiti? Vandalism?”

“I wouldn’t worry if it were just that. Sources say the threat came from one of those cyborg-loving groups, their mandate something about the ethical treatment for cyborgs. Apparently, they are making noise about the facility overhead that houses us and have started rumors we’re running tests on cybernetic organisms.”

As the leader of the one and only true group for the ethical treatment of cyborgs, Adam knew the general’s assumption was incorrect, but he did find the rumor interesting. He’d not seen or heard of any cyborgs being held here, but then again, he’d worked this post for less than a month. So far, his discreet forays on to the network hadn’t netted him any indication of cyborgs on the premises, but peeling the layers took time. This place held many levels, virtually and physically.

“Cyborgs? Here?” Dr. Laura laughed. “That’s ridiculous. They’ve been outlawed for years. They’re so dangerous, the government has orders to terminate them on sight. No one would be crazy enough to think they could hold any prisoner.”

It angered Adam to hear her thoughts on the matter. Somehow he’d hoped the doctor smart enough to see past the propaganda spread about his kind.

Yes, we kill, but only when necessary, and we do it in order to survive.

“I know, and yet there are some who believe we have some of the killers in custody. Utter foolishness.”

Funny how the general agreed with her, and yet Adam’s voice pattern analyzer detected his words as false. Noted and filed for a more in-depth look later.

“Now that you’ve been warned, let’s move on from these silly rumors,” the general said, changing the subject. “How is the research going? Any success in reanimating the samples we’ve given you?”

“No. I’ve run the samples I’ve received through several levels at this point. I’ve exposed them to different energy phases and levels. Attempting to jumpstart them, so to speak. Nothing yet has caused them to reactivate. Are we even sure they work?”

“They do.”

“What kills them then?”

“That’s—”

“Classified. So you keep saying. You’re really making this harder than it should be,” she said with a sigh.

Yeah, they were both making this hard. Adam wondered what they were talking about. What were they trying to reanimate? He got his clue a moment later and forgot to breathe—fake breath of course, given his body used the pores of his skin to absorb any oxygen he needed.

“Count yourself lucky you’re even getting to see the nanotechnology.”

“Lucky? I know what it appears to be, but I have only your word claiming it works.”

“If you’re requesting to see the source of the samples, then permission is still denied.”

“Can you at least tell me if they’re active from the source you’re extracting from?”

“I cannot answer that question.”

Could the general hear the doctor grind her teeth? “What a surprise.”

“Exactly what do you think seeing the nanos active would achieve?”

“Seeing them at work might give me a better understanding of how they function. But more importantly, I’d like to see how they’re shutting down. If I could see what triggers their, for lack of a better term, death, then I might be able to devise a method to reanimate them or stop it from happening in the first place.”

The sound of fingers drumming wood was a telltale sign the general mulled over her request. His words confirmed it. “I’ll see what I can do. But keep in mind, everything about the sample is classified, classified beyond what you’re currently allowed to know as an outside civilian brought in for your expertise. To allow you access would mean a mountain of paperwork and even more stringent security.”

“Good thing I don’t have a life outside of work then,” she said with a laugh.

And she wasn’t kidding. Adam’s background check on her had proved short and simple. Other than coming to work, she did nothing, not even go to the store. She had her groceries delivered, when she remembered she needed some. Her only real social time involved her meeting a friend every other Sunday for brunch. Same time. Same place. Same breakfast.

The doctor kept to a very mundane routine—one without a boyfriend.

It didn’t surprise him when she left the general’s office that, given the all clear to return to her lab, she chose to return to work. With Adam escorting her, silent given the traffic in the halls as the shifts changed, she went back to her scrubbed space.

Just before she entered, she placed her hand on his arm and shot him a smile as she mouthed, “thank you”. He could have thought of better things for her mouth to do, but they required privacy.

As if the incident never happened, she returned to her research and he to his post standing guard until his shift ended.

Then it was off to the airfield to greet an old friend.