His Virtual Bride (4 page)

She fled.

* * * *

Why was it that when she most needed to hurry, nothing worked? Keely stared at the enormous glass enclosure. It looked as if it could hold a dozen Geoff-sized people and still have room for a dozen of her. He had called the enclosure a shower, but she had no clue how it operated. On her little
No-Name
she just opened the door to a dinky opaque tube, stepped inside and the tube blew some kind of cleaner over her before blowing it away. The whole operation took about thirty seconds. She'd tried the same routine with this shower thingy, but it hadn't worked.

Rocking from heel to toe, she hummed her frustration. She thought about asking Geoff for help, but thought she was probably safer if she didn't. He'd want to shower with her and she didn't trust him to keep his hands off her. More important, she didn't trust her own sense of modesty when he was around. She could just as easily attack him and modesty be damned.

"Well hell," she muttered.

"Right idea. Wrong words, honey," a disembodied voice offered.

Keely nearly jumped out of her skin. Clamping her hands over her mouth, she smothered her shriek and spun in a slow circle. Unless that voice came from a ghost, she couldn't see anyone.

A figure appeared in stages. A mop of blonde curls. A piquant face with merry blue eyes and tilt-tipped nose and perfect rosy lips. A voluptuous body encased in a lime green jumpsuit that covered the female from the swell of her breasts to the tops of her slender thighs.

"Tinker Bell," Keely muttered, convinced Geoff had brought her to Never Land.

"Herma," the pixie-like woman corrected, looking down at her own hazy form. "Excuse my ectoplasm appearance. Frodie and I are usually more substantial."

Keely grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her naked body. "F-Frodie?"

Herma giggled. "He's not here, honey. I think he's still on Earth, trying to straighten out this lack of substance problem. We're usually physically nearer to each other than we are right now which keeps us from looking like ghosts." She held out a dainty hand.

Keely wiped her damp and trembling hand on her towel, then shook Herma's. A frission of instant recognition jolted through her. She jerked away. "D-do I know you?" she asked, hating her shaking voice.

 Ignoring the question, Herma told her, "Step inside, honey, and just say 'On'. The shower will do the rest."

"Okay, b-but--"

"I won't peek. In fact, I'll leave the room."

"Thanks."

"When you're done just say 'Off'."

"Thanks again."

"Later--when you have more time--you should try the bathtub. 'Bye."

Keely waited for the sound of a closing door. Hearing nothing more than her growling stomach, stepping into the shower, she dropped her towel

"On," she whispered--as if that ephemeral being Herma might hear her and come back. "Blessed be. Water. Honest-to-Goddess water."

It came from every direction and felt like a thousand little fingers all over her body. Cool at first, it gradually heated and those thousand little fingers seemed to focus on her nipples and between her thighs.

Sweet Goddess
! She'd read hundreds of books--sex manuals and what Paris called pornography--but none of them had stimulated her senses like this. This felt even better than the first time she'd launched her
No-Name
into a wormhole. Her brain swam with images of couples making love in all sorts of impossible ways. She felt their tension rise, rise, rise to the sweet release of climax. She reached for that same release, but it slipped away.

Weak-kneed and frustrated, she slumped against the shower wall and craved that giant wave to soothe her to total relaxation. Seconds, minutes, hours later resentment seeped into her mind.
Jove blast it
! Those couples had had partners, while she was alone. As far as she could remember, she'd always been alone. Would always be alone.

"If you cry, your eyes will get red." Herma sounded both sympathetic and stern.

Keely hiccupped as she swiped at her cheeks--tears or water she neither knew nor cared. "Off," she commanded.

The water stopped, but the shower wasn't done with her yet. It blew soft warm air over her until she was dry from head to toes. It slathered lotion over every inch of her, and seemed to pat her back as if saying
Well done!

Wrapping her towel around her, she padded into the bedroom. And took that depressing feeling of loneliness with her.

"Damn! Forgot my clothes." She should have taken underwear into the bathroom, just in case--

 "You mean these?" Geoff's voice came from the deepest shadows.

She almost jumped out of her skin, he scared her so badly. Still, she'd kind of expected him to sneak in. "I locked the door. How did you get in here?"
And where did you find those panties and that skimpy bra?

"One of the tricks of the trade I'll teach you. You never know when a good set of lock picks might come in handy."

"Ropes don't need keys or picks."

"Handcuffs do." He stepped from shadow into light.

Keely almost swallowed her tongue. "You…you're naked!"

"About as naked as you are."

He strode toward her like a lazy cat. Only this cat had an erection that made his skimpy skivvies look several sizes too small.

"If you'd waited, we could have showered together."

"Nuh-uh."

"I figured you'd say no." He touched the tip of her nose with the tip of his finger. "Next time, Keely."

She was slipping her feet into open-toed sandals when she heard Geoff's shout.

"Jove-blasted hermaphrodite! Get outta my shower!"

Chapter Three

Paris' Private Quarters

"That spaceship--
The Honey
--is costing us a small fortune, Paris."

Paris blew a perfectly round smoke ring. She seldom indulged, but this particular cigar was a gift from a very special friend. "
The Honey's
protection will net a tidy profit, Grandfather. Trust me."

"I do, but I still can't see where the
tidy profit
will come from. You've put a dozen or more booby-traps inside her and another dozen droids outside. Droids aren't cheap."

"But they are key to my plans. I don't want certain people to board her too easily. Besides, that spaceship is invaluable.

"Is she?"

Blowing anther perfect smoke ring, Paris permitted herself a grin. "We'll find out, won't we?"

"Soon, I hope. Very soon."

Chapter Four

She's a duck
.
Wakes up in a new world every morning,
Geoff thought, watching Keely carefully deposit a single credit chip into the one-armed bandit she was playing. Before she pulled the handle, she patted the machine's colorful belly and cooed something under her breath. As she watched the dozen wheels spin, Geoff could almost see the wheels spinning in her head, willing the cogs to stop just where she wanted. The Jove-blasted machine came up blank across its entire face. Bells went off. Credits tumbled into the already full tray. Lights flashed.

A lucky duck
, he amended. A completely blank pay line was worth more than any other combination of symbols. Eyes wide, Keely grinned up at him.

"You'd win more if you played more credits at a time." He smiled back.

"I can play longer." She sounded calm, but he could see her hands shake as she scooped coins into a plasfoam bucket. The machine beeped and she tugged out a ticket with the balance of her winnings printed on it. "Wow! Now I can afford to get my own room."

"Nope." He scanned the casino for the hundredth time, but still couldn't see any sign of
Le Roi
. Or any other Marsian he might pump for information. The risk in that gambit lay in exposing
Le Roi's
being alive. Ki--Paris' rule depended upon her great-uncle staying dead --in the eyes of the rest of the galaxy anyway.

"What do you mean?
Nope
? You don't have any say about where I sleep. I could bunk on the beach or aboard the N
o-Name
. For that matter--"

"There's not another room available on Saturnalia. And with that many credits in your possession, you won't risk sleeping on the beach. Even a high-class place like this has thieves. As for the
No-Name
…the casino controls all travel on and off Saturnalia. They won't let us go until you put back most if not all of your winnings."

Jutting her chin, Keely stalked away, the swish of her hips making her short tunic's hem flutter around her thighs. "I can get them to escort us off."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"I can break the bank."

For some reason--maybe the acid burning in his belly--he believed she could. Catching her arm, he swung her to face him. "Let's save that tactic for if we need it." Heeding her glare, he released her arm, adding, "I'll sleep on the couch."

She snorted, but looped her arm through his, forcing him to shorten his stride. "I don't know why Paris thinks
Le Roi
would come here."

"Besides liking to gamble, he enjoys luxury. Saturnalia is the perfect place to indulge himself." For all he knew,
Le Roi
could've gotten here aboard
The Honey
.

"But he's…green," Keely said as if Geoff needed the reminder.

"There are ways to look different," he retorted, immediately wishing he hadn't.

"Like you did when you looked like Paris?"

"Something like that. Drop it, Shrimp. I'm not gonna tell you."

"We'll see."

He grinned at the hint of certainty in her voice.

"Pretty," she sighed as they stepped outside and looked up at the starry sky. "Is that blue and white marble your Earth?"

"That's my home world," he corrected, bemused by Keely's phrasing. He'd noticed her tendency to attribute ownership of objects--to everyone but herself. "Saturnalia's founders have tweaked its dome so it functions like a super high–powered telescope."

"Hmmm. Earth looks like the perfect shooter. You know…that fat marble you fire at the others until you collect them all. Then you go home and play with yourself."

Geoff vaguely recalled reading about marbles. He knew he'd never played the game. When her last statement sank in he choked out "I think you mean
play by yourself
."

"That's what I said."

"Not quite," he muttered, not wanting to spoil the evening by parsing words. When a horse–drawn carriage stopped at the foot of the stairs, Geoff offered his arm. "It's a perfect night for drive through the grounds."

 "I'm not too tired to walk."

"You've been standing on stilts for hours." She glanced down at her open–toed stiletto heeled shoes. "By now my feet would be screaming for relief. Besides, that bucket of credits must weigh more than you do."

"I'm not letting you carry it."

Suspecting she thought he'd stuff her winnings into nonexistent pockets, he patted his hips and thighs.

"But you're right. My feet do hurt."

"No problem." He swept her into his arms. The jingling credits almost covered her wind-chimes laugh. Her warmth released the scent of lilacs into the air. He had no idea how he knew the aroma, but he recognized it. And his olfactory senses liked it. A lot. He wondered if she smelled like that all over. Deciding he'd find out once they reached the bungalow, he stepped into the carriage and sat with her still in his arms. Surprising him, she rested her head on his shoulder and wiggled her bottom.

As he inhaled deeply, he shifted her to one side. "You smell good."

"So do you."

"You look…" She looked up, her eyes sleepy in the Saturnian-made moonlight. "Lovely."

"Amazingly, I feel lovely. I don't remember ever wearing a dress. Like this one," she added as if she'd revealed something she didn't want him to know. Attempting to pull the short skirt over her knees, she slid off his body. And landed between his legs, her round buttocks pressing firmly against his swelling cock.

"Hold still, Keely, or I won't be responsible for what happens next."

Owl-eyed, she blinked up at him. "Oh." Her voice came out a breathy sigh. Her tongue flicked over her ripe lips and her lashes drifted to half–mast.

Smothering a groan, Geoff moved her to his side. Concerned that she might feel rejected, he looped his left arm around her shoulders and snuggled her close. For several long moments all he could hear was the horse's clopping hooves echoing the steady, slightly rapid beat of his heart. And the voice shouting in his mind,
Idiot. She wanted you to kiss her. Too late now, moron.

"We have all night," he said aloud.

Keely slanted him a
you wish
look as she snuggled even closer. "Geoff? What's a Jove-blasted hermaphrodite?"

When he didn't answer, she pulled back. "You're blushing."

"You heard," he grumbled.

"You shouted," she countered, thrusting out her chin like a kid spoiling for a fight.

"Guess I did."

"I was nowhere near the bathroom door. Not that it matters where I was. You shouted at…someone. Who?"

"I guess you'd call Frodie a who. He is the male half of a hermaphrodite named…"

"Herma-Frodie," Keely interrupted, her entire face beaming at Geoff.

"H-how did you--"

"Herma helped me figure out how to use the shower." She waved dismissively. "But she thought Frodie was still on the earth."

"Not entirely," Geoff muttered. "I'll explain when we get inside." He shifted his gaze pointedly, drawing Keely's attention to their driver's cocked ears. "In the meantime…" He tilted her chin. "I'm going to kiss you, Keely."

"Are not," she retorted without moving to escape his embrace.

Grinning, he matched his lips with hers. A light brush, returning to linger before he eased away. Her deep sigh parted her lips, inviting him to kiss her fully. To taste the strawberries and chocolate she'd eaten for dessert. To inhale those tempting aromas along with the scent of lilacs on her skin. Her fingers tiptoed up his chest and then curved into his hair. Inviting, demanding he kiss her deeply, drink her sweetness. Mating his tongue with hers, he slid his hands into her red–gold locks. Like living flesh, they curled around his fingers. Cool satin contrasted with her scalp's warm silk.

An impatient cough made them ease apart. They'd arrived at their bungalow.

As he stood, Keely retrieved her winnings. Stepping out of the carriage, he held out his hand, oddly touched by the brief, shy smile she gave him. She turned back to press a fistful of credits into the driver's hand. His wide smile showed his double set of razor-sharp teeth. Geoff expected Keely might faint and enclosed her elbow in his hand. Neither blushing nor blanching, she thanked the driver in perfect Saturnian as she stepped to the ground. Her smile at Geoff looked apologetic. His hopes for hours of wild sex made his half erect cock go limp.

And the night just gets better and better
, Geoff thought, watching the bungalow door open and light spill over the sandy path to the porch. Herma's slender form was almost obscured by Frodie's looming shadow. The male half of the now rejoined couple reminded Geoff of Lurch rather than Heathcliff. Maybe it was Frodie's all black tuxedo and shirt that made Geoff's shoulder muscles stiffen and his fingers clench into fists. The male looked like an old-Earth hit man.

"Herma," Keely called out, somehow sounding happy and relieved she wouldn't be alone with Geoff. "This must be--"

"The Jove-blasted hermaphrodite I shouted at," Geoff growled, shoving by the couple. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed Herma's reproachful eyes and her quivering lower lip. He also saw her twitch her lemon-yellow floor length gown out of his way, the dismissive movement accomplished with the aplomb of a queen. The image of Kiki--Paris, he reminded himself with uncharacteristic cynicism--using that same disdainful twitch the last time he'd walked out on her popped into his mind

Narrowing his eyes at the hermaphrodite, he demanded, "What brings you two here?"

"Kendra and Conner were worried about you," Frodie answered, his perfect syntax startling Geoff. The last time he'd had the misfortune to see Herma-Frodie, the man could barely string together two comprehensive words.

"Connor upgraded Frodie's language programs," Herma explained.

"That's wonderful!" Keely cried, giving the couple a quick hug. "We need a celebratory toast."

Frodie separated from his mate, taking her long gown with him. "Ooops," he said, freeing Herma's hem before continuing to the bar.

"Syntax and slang! Pinch me, Keely. Hard. I'm in the middle of a nightmare."

"You are the rudest man I've ever met.
That
I remember," she mumbled, using that
sotto voce
trick of cousin Kendra's. Looking up at Frodie, she smiled her thanks for the snifter of Saturnian brandy he handed her as she sat. "Why are Geoff's cousins worried about him?"

Geoff was more interested in learning how Keely knew Kendra and Connor were his cousins.

"By the way, you look far more substantial than you did earlier," Keely added to Herma.

"Frodie fixed us."

"We are more solid when joined," Frodie added, his smile at his mate fond and more than a little lustful. Keely looked amused. Geoff was growing damned resentful. Frodie seemed to be getting from Herma what Geoff wanted from Keely.

As if listening to a voice everyone but Geoff could hear, Keely tilted her head. "
Hermaphrodite
--
A person or animal having both male and female sex organs.
" She sounded like she was quoting from a dictionary, adding, "Cool. But what are you doing here?"

Together, Herma-Frodie glared at Geoff.

"Like the majority of people on Earth, my cousins believe I'm guilty of treason."

"They--" Herma began.

"Do not," Frodie finished, nodding emphatically.

"Why then, did they send you here?"

"To help--"

"Recover
Honey
," Herma said.

Some of Geoff's resentment eased away. He wasn't sure how much help the hermaphrodite could provide, but it felt good to know somebody was rooting for him. Even if that help came from a programmed-to–promote-sex holograph cousin Kendra's grandparents had rescued from a den of iniquity on Earth.

"Have you learned anything?" Keely asked eagerly, leaning forward in her chair.

"Not yet." Herma touched Frodie's arm as if warning him not to say anything.

Geoff's stomach muscles clenched. Distrust returned. As if he believed every word they uttered, Geoff murmured, "Then we can make our plans in the morning." He held out his hand. As if conjured by a master magician Herma-Frodie's scrolled traveling case appeared in his palm. Wondering where the case had come from, he blinked at it.

"Cool," Keely crowed as they watched Herma-Frodie morph into a smoky strip before they disappeared into the intricately engraved compact. Wheel–clacking and whirling voiced their protests. That much about them hadn't changed.

"Hey!" Keely protested when he put them in a desk drawer and locked it. "As if that'll hold them."

"As if
what
?" He'd think about how the hermaphrodite had gotten to Saturnalia later. And how they knew exactly where to find him.

"Never mind." She stalked toward the bedroom. "Good night."

Reaching the door ahead of her, Geoff opened it, bowing her in. And locked the door behind them.

* * * *

Keely, peering under her lashes, watched Geoff lay a half-dozen bolsters down the length of the wide bed. His actions reminded her that the bed was so big it could hold a bunch of Keelys and at least two Geoffs. Some heavy material formed a canopy above the bed, making her wonder what purpose it served. She refused to ask. Geoff would probably explain in more detail than she needed. All she wanted to know was the time, not how to build the Jove-blasted clock.

"There," he said. Jamming his hands in his trouser pockets, he glared at her. "I am not sleeping on the couch in the living room. I don't care how well-padded those cushions are, I can still feel the Jove-blasted springs."

"Poor Snake. Just like the princess and the… I know it was some sort of vegetable. Small and round and--"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well…whatever kind of vegetable the wicked queen put under the princess' mattress, it kept the poor girl awake all night. And the fact that she couldn't sleep proved to the queen that the princess was a real princess. So she and the prince got married."

"And lived happily ever after," Geoff scoffed.