H10N1 (25 page)

They strolled slowly beside the lapping waves of the ocean, dragging their feet across the warm sand. The last rays of sunlight glinted off the uppermost peak of the glass pyramid.

Rick decided to take a pre-emptive strike. “You know, I was a real horse’s ass when you and I first met.”

She looked at him sideways. “Really?”

Smiling at her sarcasm, Rick pushed on. “I just want you to know that you’ve seen the worst of me, but not the best.”

She strolled on a few steps before she said, “Well, if that’s as bad as you get, I think I can handle it.”

His head jerked up. “Really?” He let out a long sigh. “I’ve gotta tell you, I wake up every morning wishing I hadn’t been such a prick.”

A nervous laugh blurted out. “That’s the last thing I expected you to say.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” She hesitated. “I thought you’d go for the flattery, like what great legs I have, or how mystifying my eyes are.”

“Is that what you want to hear?”

“No,” she said. “That just seems more your style.”

“Sure, if I’m trying to pick up some babe in a bar.”

Stopping, she stepped in front of him and looked him in the eye. “And you’re not thinking about seducing me right now?”

“No.” With a finger, he drew a lazy line down her cheek. “I’m thinking about the two of us making love.”

Sanchez dropped the blanket she’d been clutching to her chest and stepped into his open arms. They kissed with an intensity that nearly knocked Rick off his feet. And when he reached under her tee shirt to rub his hands along her bare skin, she pulled away just long enough to rake off her shirt.

Following suit, Rick tugged off his own shirt while he tried to spread the blanket out with his feet. He flopped onto the ground, tossing a corner of the blanket open. Sanchez followed him down, straddling his waist.

He reached behind her back and gently eased apart the clasp on her bra. He’d waited a long time to get a look at those babies, and he wasn’t about to rush the unveiling. After he tossed her bra onto the sand, he laid there savoring their beauty like a work of art. And when he finally caressed one, cupping the breast in his hand, she threw her head back and squirmed on his lap.

There was no stopping the urgency. He quickly unlatched the button on her shorts and she rolled off, wriggling to get free of her clothing. They were at each other like animals.

Long after Rick’s pulsing heart slowed and his breathing calmed, he lay on top of Sanchez, nuzzling against the soft skin of her neck.

“What if you haven’t seen the worst of me?” she teased.

“Are you kidding?” Rick raised up on his elbows and poked a finger into her mouth. “Is there an evil twin in there I don’t know about?”

Wrapping her lips around his finger, she sucked. He yelped and yanked his finger out, then gave her a “wet-willie” in her ear.

She squealed out a laugh, writhing under him, bucking against his thighs.

“See,” he said. “We’re perfect for each other.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Dark clouds swirled overhead, keeping the morning work duty in the garden cooler than usual. Rick eased up off his knees and stretched his back, gazing through the glass dome. They were in for quite a storm.

A few drops splatted on the glass above, picking up speed until a steady machine gun of rain pelted down. Thunder rumbled off to the west, and Rick caught a flicker of light. The wind outside blew little streams of water across the glass, washing away the dust. A jagged streak of lightning zigzagged across the sky.

How great would that be to lie among the green beans and carrots with Sanchez and watch the light show? He spotted her two plots over on hands and knees. An image of her naked and on his bed in that position aroused him, a state that seemed to be nearly constant these days.

As he scanned the fields to see if anyone noticed him leering, Rick caught a sudden movement in the enclosed wilderness biome beyond. The acacia trees in the fresh water marsh were fluttering in the wind. But what wind?

He took a few steps toward the double doors to get a closer look. The trees
were
blowing. Jesus Christ! The wind must have blown out some of the glass panes of the dome because it was pouring down rain on the savannah. Up in the rainforest pyramid, the heavy leaves on banana trees whipped like flailing arms.

He had to get John. As he tore down the aisle toward the basement stairs, Rick wondered if they had replacement glass? How would he and Devin get up on the pyramid to fix it? Once the wind got going, would it strip all the glass panels away?

He skidded to the top of the stairway just as John came ambling up. Flapping his arms like those banana trees, Rick yelled. “Get up here! There’s big trouble in the rainforest.”

The son-of-a-bitch grinned!

When he got to the top of the stairs, John patted Rick on the shoulder, then turned and folded his arms, and watched the wilderness biome get blown to hell.

By that time, the others had come running.

Taeya grabbed John’s arm. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“I already did,” he said with a grin.

That’s when Rick realized the old coot was playing with their heads. Judith glared at him, and he quickly confessed.

“I schedule regular rainfalls, but every now and then the vegetation needs a real donnybrook. It blows the dead branches off, strengthens their trunks. When we have a storm outside, I give our trees a good massage. I think they appreciate being included.”

Rick gave John a lopsided grin. “You made a storm.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How did you do that?”

“Air handlers. Vents. The wind circulates. Not like a hurricane, but I get a few good gusts in there to blow off leaves and debris.”

Rick turned to Devin. “We’ve gotta check this out.”

“Come on, John.” Devin linked an arm in John’s. “Show us how this works.”

Out in the savannah, Rick spread his arms wide, letting the driving rain pelt him. He felt so giddy that he threw his head back and let out a Tarzan call.

“Hey, check this out!” Devin stood at the top of the stone stairs leading down to the beach. Water rushed between the steps and the vegetation growing along the side, turning the dirt into mud.

“Oh, yeah.” Rick dropped onto his butt, gave a little scoot, and slid down the muddy chute. It was as good as any ride in a water park.

Devin was right behind him, screaming like a damn girl. At the bottom, they both yelled at John to try it. He politely declined until they called him a pansy and a wuss. Then John gingerly sat in the mud, raised his feet, and rode the wave.

By the time the storm ended, all three were caked in mud. They traipsed down to the basement to hose off the worst of the dirt. Then Rick suggested they pop their clothes in a washing machine before Judith or Sanchez fussed at them.

Stripping down to their skivvies, Rick led the way to the laundry room. They barged in to find Sanchez and Michael standing over the washers. John and Devin dropped their muddy clothes and high-tailed it out of there.

Sanchez seemed relieved to see Rick. “What happened to you?” she asked.

Rick took great delight in telling both her and Michael about sliding in the mud. Her eyes twinkled when he told her about the mud-ball fight. Michael appeared disgusted.

“And what’s your plan now?” Sanchez asked. She motioned at the two machines in use.

“How about you call me when you’re done.” Rick ran a finger over a lump of mud on his arm and tried to smear it on her face. She braced her palms against his chest to keep him away. But she didn’t try very hard. He wrangled her into his arms and dipped her back, letting his wet hair dangle in her face. She giggled when Rick puckered his lips and made smacking noises.

Their shenanigans drove Michael away.

Pulling Sanchez back up, Rick zeroed in on those luscious lips, but suddenly she wasn’t interested anymore.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

She let her hands fall away from his shoulders. “Nothing.”

“Was Michael being his usual obnoxious self?”

With a vague flip of her hand, Sanchez said, “It was no big deal.”

The clothes washer stopped and she got real busy pulling her stuff out one piece at a time. Stalling.

“What was no big deal?”

After shoving her clothes into the dryer, Taeya clicked the door shut and turned on the machine. Then she turned and leaned against it. “He wanted me to know that he was available.”

“That son-of-a-bitch!” Rick exploded. “Who does he think he is?” He was already charging for the door when Sanchez grabbed his arm.

“Hang on, now. I don’t need you defending my honor.”

The hell she didn’t. Rick feigned right to go left, but she cut him off again.

“I took care of it.” Sanchez said, her jaw clenched behind the smile. “Now would you please put the testosterone back in your pocket?”

With a supreme effort, Rick managed to keep his voice calm. “This doesn’t just involve you. It involves me, too. So, I’m going to have a few words with Michael. I promise I won’t lay a hand on him.”

“A few words.”

“That’s right.” Rick wrapped his arms around her. “He needs to realize that he can’t come between a man and his woman.”

“
Your woman?
” she shrieked.

“Yeah.” He drew his head back. “Aren’t I your man?”

There was more than a hint of disgust in Sanchez’ voice as she wrangled out of his arms. “Where do you guys get the notion that you’re stud muffins in the first place?”

Once he had the washing machine going, Rick stomped upstairs to make some serious plans on how to confront Michael. As he yanked on a dry pair of shorts, he plotted his revenge. This could be tricky. He’d told Sanchez he wouldn’t lay a hand on Michael, but he hadn’t said anything about elbows, knees or boots.

Why couldn’t Michael be happy with Mai? Okay, so that was obvious. But how could the man come sniffing around Sanchez when he knew she was sleeping with Rick? Then as he stormed out of his apartment, a whole new thought dawned on him.

The fact that Rick had Sanchez, while Michael was stuck with Mai must be eating the guy up inside. So much so, that Michael was willing to risk his life to make a play for Sanchez. Either that or the man was incredibly stupid.

Rick knew more than anyone just how lucky he was to have Sanchez. He would never do anything to put the relationship with her in jeopardy. And yet, as he sauntered down the hallway, he felt compelled to stop in the conference room for a visit.

For once, Michael wasn’t parked at his computers. He stood gazing out the window. Had somebody else wandered into the lasers and gotten fried?

Michael broke out of whatever trance he was in when he heard Rick. The little weasel twitched. Then his eyes shot between Rick and his computers a couple times. Was there something on the monitors he didn’t want Rick to see? Naked pictures of Kat? Dear God, Mai in that harness John hung in their bedroom?

As though someone had fired a starting pistol, they both scrambled for the computer station. Rick beat Michael, but as he skidded to a halt, he was stunned by what he saw.

“Games?” Rick stared at the screen. “You sit up here and play games all day while I work my ass off in that garden?”

“It’s not what you think,” Michael said. “I was simply waiting for a report to update.”

Clicking the exit button, Rick waited for the game to close so he could see if there really was a file updating. What he saw was a desktop littered with icons for about fifty games. And of course, no report.

Rick straightened slowly, to get some height over Michael and to make the prick sweat. “You actually play a game with secret agent guinea pigs?”

Michael was backing up now. “Those games were already there. I just never deleted them. That computer is strictly for back-up. I hardly ever use it.”

Now, Rick had never punched a guy in the face before. From what Devin said, it was a lot trickier than it looked in the movies. If you hit the jaw wrong, or connected with a cheekbone, you could do some real damage to your own knuckles.

Balling up his fist, Rick drove it into Michael’s gut. He heard the woosh of air fly out of Michael’s mouth, and watched him drop to his knees in pain. Then it was just too damn convenient. Rick jerked his knee up and caught Michael in the jaw. His teeth clacked together, and his eyes rolled upwards. Stepping away, Rick let him fall to the floor.

“Oh, hell!” Rick snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot why I stopped by.” He bent over Michael. “Stay away from Sanchez.”

Back out in the hallway, Rick heard voices in the kitchen, the new gathering place. Everyone had started pitching in to help with meals because it was easy to sneak a few extra bites of rice, or nibble the rest of the fruit off a mango pit.

Sanchez, Mai and John sat at the dining room table, snapping beans. In the kitchen, Devin hulled some kind of peas while Judith cut up papayas.

Tromping down the three steps to the dining room, Rick crossed his arms and asked, “Would anyone care to guess what Michael does at his computer all day?”

Too pissed to wait for an answer, he unfolded his arms in exasperation. “He plays video games. Bionic Commando, Zombie Ninja Warriors. Even Disney games!”

Judith dropped her knife and wiped off her hands. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No it is not,” Rick insisted.

Mai looked furious. “He told me he was monitoring our systems, the air, the water. He made a big deal about me not disturbing him, like I might cause a catastrophe.”

The bowl of peas Devin was shelling scraped across the counter. “I’m doing double duty working the garden and tending the coral reef, and that clown is playing games?”

John was the only one who didn’t have much to say. In fact, he seemed to be quite preoccupied with the string bean in his hand. Rick reached over and took his bean away.

“Did you know about this?” he asked.

All he could do was hang his head. Rick felt guilty for putting the old dude on the spot, especially after Judith came flying out of the kitchen with that knife in her hand.