JR (28 page)

When she’d crossed the room to his private desk to massage the bunched muscles of his tense back, he’d yielded for a moment before shrugging off her touch once his breathing grew erratic.

The presentation to the board marked a major milestone. Today, the council would either approve continued study into the applicability of the Dream Machine for commercial use or it would terminate the experiment. Rebecca couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen then. Although Kurt had convinced her he’d enjoyed their carnal interactions as much as she had, he’d distanced himself from the explosion of emotions their extreme coupling had induced. He now epitomized the aloofness she’d associated with her mentor before this adventure.

The doctor had laid out a new, skirted suit for her. When she tried it on, his eye for fashion impressed her.

The professional yet provocative ensemble highlighted her figure in a way her old attire never had. Of course, the well-cut silk outfit probably cost as much as her entire wardrobe combined. It flattered her curves while allowing her to maintain the air of the distinguished psychologist she longed to be.

He’d also provided lingerie rivaling the wild garments she preferred with their inventive lack of material and lacy panels, which obscured most of her tender parts in shadow but displayed a lot for temptation. The shoes, however, captured her rapt attention. After going barefoot for days, the designer heels made her drool.

Simple, black leather stilettos wrought with such artistry and flair should be illegal. The additional four inches added to her stature polished off her makeover.

The individual changes were subtle but the cumulative effect was drastic. The sensual component of her nature emerged from the cage she’d locked it in, transforming Rebecca into the complete woman she’d never again abandon. Her time with Kurt had taught her she didn’t have to bottle her desires in order to succeed. In fact, trusting her heart, placing faith in her fellow human beings and staying open—even when it made her vulnerable to hurt—enhanced her effectiveness as a psychologist.

No matter what happened at this morning’s meeting, the Dream Machine had worked for her. She prayed her testimony would convince the board of the effectiveness of Kurt’s invention and the benefits it could bring to others.

Maybe then, he’d be happy.

***

Silence shrouded them during the ride to their appointment, both Kurt and Becca lost in their private musings. He ran through every possible objection the board might raise and formulated a counterargument to nullify it. They couldn’t shut him down now. He wasn’t finished with his subject. She fascinated him. He burned to learn more about her but he wouldn’t blame her if she no longer wanted him after the way he’d severed their intimacy.

Guilt had corroded the elation rocking his world after the earth-shattering release he’d achieved in her supplicant body. Once the storm of pleasure had blown over, his first thought had centered on preventing her from discovering his deception in today’s board meeting.

What an asshole. Self-loathing had driven him to sequester himself in the laboratory as punishment. He’d wanted nothing more than her company while he compiled evidence for the board but he’d denied himself the satisfaction. Besides, the time in isolation had allowed him to refocus by ridding his mind of the fanciful ideas perfect chemistry had implanted in his brain.

As he led Becca through the polished chrome and glass doors of the board’s office building, the heartbeat racing in her veins skittered beneath his fingers braceleting her wrist. Even though it made her nervous to face her colleagues when they all had knowledge of the experiment requirements, she exuded confidence and a freedom Kurt found highly attractive. The clothing he’d had tailor made suited the enhanced woman well.

Knowing this strong, intelligent creature would submit to him acted as a more powerful aphrodisiac than the intoxicating thought of coaxing her to embrace her sensual nature had.

“You’ll do fine, baby.” He reassured her as he stroked the inside of her delicate wrist. “The board granted unanimous approval of your position in the firm. These are people who respect you.”

“I know, Kurt.” She slowed as she turned to face him with an expression he couldn’t read. “I’m anxious for you. For the experiment. This is a pivotal moment in your career and I believe in your work. I don’t want anything I do to jeopardize that.”

He stopped short. The trial would have monumental ramifications for their field but all morning he’d focused on how this meeting would affect their relationship, not the success of the Dream Machine. Science he understood. The sound research and evidence left no wiggle room for denouncement. Hell, he’d known the Dream Machine worked before they’d set out to prove it with empirical evidence.

He stroked her cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. But there’s no need to worry.”

As they rode to the top floor in the mirrored elevator, the true irony of the situation hit home. He couldn’t decipher the unintended results of their procedures. Becca had reacted to the study as he had planned. However, he hadn’t anticipated the effect the liaison would have on him. Kurt couldn’t condense their changing relationship into a column on a report, couldn’t graph the way she made him feel. It disconcerted him.

Debating the likelihood of a hormonal reaction strong enough to trigger these complications, he considered the merits of a follow-up experiment. They reached the meeting room before his wandering mind realized they had arrived. The atypical distraction concerned him. He fortified his resolve and swept his attention back to the challenge at hand.

They took seats near the head of the gigantic conference table. At the opposite end of the gleaming seating area, an unfurled screen hosted the title slide of his briefing, beamed up by a computer projector attached to a laptop. Luke had arranged everything as he’d requested.

The other board members joined them within moments, ratcheting up the background of chatter and greetings from colleagues. Many offered Becca congratulations on her hard-earned partnership.

If anyone noted the gleam in Kurt’s eye as people praised her or the possessive way his hand rested on the back of her chair, no one mentioned it. They’d witnessed him fighting off the other firms contending first for stellar interns and then top graduates in order to keep Becca for years.

Before long, the room had filled. Only the seat at the head of the table remained vacant. Doctors swiveled and rocked in the imposing leather chairs. Anticipation mounted while they waited for the council chairman.

Kurt’s hand never strayed from its perch on Becca’s knee. Five minutes later, Dr. Luke Malone strode into the room in his dark suit, commanding the attention of all in attendance.

Their close friendship was no secret. They’d known each other since high school, been tight since college where they’d roomed together, studied together and played hard together, though no sign of their bond showed now. In their professional roles, favoritism had no place as they pushed each other to be better scientists through healthy competition.

“Are we ready to begin?” All business, Dr. Malone directed the question to Dr. Foster—not Luke to Kurt—

with raised brows.

At Kurt’s nod, Luke initiated the proceedings.

“Due to the sensitive nature of the case we are about to review I’d like to direct your attention to the folders in front of you. Inside you’ll find a standard non-disclosure form. Please take a moment to sign them now before we begin.”

The rustle of pens whipped from portfolios and purses resounded through the long room. A secretary stood by to collect the formalized bonds of doctor patient confidentiality. What happened in this room would stay in this room.

“Thank you, Lucy.” Dr. Malone dismissed the assistant once the last doctor completed his form.

“Begin when you’re ready, Dr. Foster,” Luke instructed as all eyes focused on Kurt.

Rebecca fidgeted under the scrutiny of the board, although she wasn’t as flustered as she’d expected. Kurt sat beside her, his discreet hand lending support. He approved of her performance, which made the entire process bearable.

In prior case debriefs she’d attended, the sanctioning process included an overview of the procedure and a dry, academic discussion of results to date. While the review would invite the speculation of her colleagues, there should be no reason to go into details on the specific fantasies she had experienced.

“As you know,” Kurt began, “I’ve created a machine with the capability to capture and reconstruct dreams from brain wave patterns. This study diverges from most in that the subject is aware of the intent of the experiment. But, the usual double-blind standard doesn’t apply to this case because it would be impossible for me to alter the outcome of the experiment.”

An older professor with a reputation for his conservative views interrupted. “No one would accuse you of intentional deception, Dr. Foster. However, we all know that a researcher’s underlying beliefs about the outcome of the experiment can alter the research.”

Before Kurt could respond, Luke intervened on his behalf. “You’re right, Dr. Kensington, which is why the board stipulated a third-party witness to all of the experiment proceedings.”

The blood drained from her face in a rush. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. How could she have forgotten? The cameras. Kurt had been clear with her at the beginning of the experiment. In place of a human witness, the board had approved recorded sessions but her focus hadn’t been on the silent, omniscient eye after the first day.

Would they evaluate the footage here today to ensure no bias had tainted the outcome of the trial?

The tensing of her thigh against Kurt’s knee must have alerted him to her nervousness. He squeezed her leg beneath the cover of the table.

She flinched. The gesture intended to calm her only reminded her of the wild sexual abandon she’d experienced at his hands. It magnified her awkwardness induced by the possibility of her colleagues spying on her.

At least she tried to convince herself embarrassment, not arousal, caused her sudden flush. Sure her face had turned scarlet, she sucked in a lungful of air to combat her dizziness. She vowed to uphold her commitment to embrace her desires. Her chin lifted, her back straightened and she refused to drop her gaze from the curious glances her companions shot her way.

Her defiant stare swept around the table until it landed last on Dr. Malone. When she withstood his scrutiny, he nodded his approval.

They had one ally, at least.

After brief moments that seemed like a lifetime, she turned to Kurt, who waited for her consent to continue.

“Go ahead,” she murmured. “Show them what you need to.”

The relieved smile tilting the corners of his sexy mouth rewarded her enough to outweigh any possible professional repercussions.

“To assuage your concerns, Dr. Kensington, I’ve included video clips from each stage which will run following my discussion. Feel free to scrutinize them for procedural violations. I assure you, there are none.” He flipped to the summary slide. “In addition to establishing a baseline, we have so far conducted two Dream Machine sessions.”

When the presentation progressed to a graph plotting her biofeedback, Kurt continued. “You can see by the data presented here, the baseline arousal readings are significantly lower than those collected while reenacting scenes recovered from the Dream Machine.”

A woman across the table raised her hand. “Yes, Dr. Faulkner?”

“What does the red line between the baseline and the reenactment data sets represent?”

“Ah, I’m glad you asked. Those are results from a second control experiment we conducted to eliminate other hypotheses for the subject’s elevated reactions.”

Rebecca’s mind flashed back to the warm liquid that had rushed inside her as Kurt forced her to admit her desire for him. She squirmed in the seat as arousal dampened her thighs.

“Today we’re requesting the board’s permission to continue the success we’ve already achieved in perfecting the use of the Dream Machine. This tool has the potential to aid those who have repressed their passions.” His booming voice filled the meeting room with his commanding authority but still they wouldn’t let him off the hook.

“Dr. Foster, you realize we can’t permit you to continue without reviewing all the evidence as impartial observers?”

Rebecca didn’t miss the wicked grin on Dr. Malone’s face. In fact, several other attendees shuffled in their chairs either out of excitement or as an attempt to conceal their amusement.

“I do. Therefore, I’ve prepared a sample of the trials as compared to the dreams recorded. You’ll see the REM stages captured on the left side of the screen, the actual trials on the right and the associated biometric data across the bottom of the videos. Please keep in mind, we’ve only had the opportunity to delve into the first three scenarios thus far. I refuse to discuss the contents of the remaining cycles in Becca’s presence due to the possible risk of uncovering desires my subject is not yet prepared to handle.”

Luke nodded in agreement before dimming the lights via his master controls. She wheezed, finding it impossible to draw a full breath. She recalled the scope of her abandon, about to be exposed to a committee of near strangers.

Kurt maintained his steady narration but she barely registered his words. She clung to the sound of his voice as a lifeline she’d depend on to help her through the next few minutes. He started at the very beginning, with the baseline session. As the visions and sounds of her—naked, vulnerable, submitting to the doctor—came alive in the room, he slid his hand beneath the hem of her skirt.