MaleAndroidCompanion (23 page)

“Welcome, Grandpa.” She took a seat next to
him.

“His parents?” Gia repeated, unable to keep
her disbelief from seeping into her voice. Her mother as well as Becka flashed
worried looks in her direction.

This couldn’t be happening. The minute her
grandfather was introduced to
her
Marc their lie would be known.

“Elaine, you remember those two scientists,
husband and wife team, that lost their lives when their spaceship exploded? I
believe they were headed to the moon on an expedition.” He picked up his coffee
and took a careful sip. “Good people.” He shook his head. “Sad situation.
Marcus was so young.”

Gia tensed.

Damn the Institute. They had stolen another
man’s identity.

Wait. She had chosen Marc’s last name. Yet
this couldn’t be a coincidence. Her heart palpitated as though it would jump
out of her chest. Something smelled fishy and it wasn’t the kipper on her
grandfather’s plate.

“Uh, Grandpa?” Gia picked up her water
glass and took a drink that went down like acid, or was that bile starting to
burn its way up her throat? “How long do you plan to stay?”

“I’ll be here until tomorrow.” He picked up
a piece of watermelon and took a bite. “That is if your mother has a bed for me
to rest these weary bones?”

“Of course, Dad. Your room is always
ready.”

“Good. That will give me time to catch up
with Charleston and ask what his intentions are.” The old man gave Gia a
playful wink.

Gia attempted to make herself smaller,
sinking down in her chair. Holding her breath, she tried not to think what
would happen when her grandfather and Marc met. Maybe they could leave tonight,
before there was any encounter.

“You all right, Gina?” Becka asked.

“Huh? Y-yes. I’m fine. Just tired. I must
have partied too hard last night.”

“Uh… You and Marc were the first to leave.
Maybe it wasn’t the partying that kept you up all night, but that gorgeous hunk
you’re with.”

Her grandfather cocked a brow, narrowing
his sight on Gia. Heat flared across her cheeks.

“Becka.” Their mother’s voice dropped an
octave. “Now, no one made note of your and Victor’s absence or for that matter
the boat rocking in the lake.”

“Mom!” A blush suffused Becka’s face. She
ducked her head, looking intently at the remainder of her breakfast.

Gia took the opportunity to shift
everyone’s eyes off her. “Becka and Vic always have liked the water.”

The chilly expression Becka cast Gia made
her chuckle.

“Is this true, Becka?”

“Grandpa! We’re married and…” She prattled
on, but her voice was white noise to Gia.

Her gut was telling her something wasn’t
right.

She snuck a peek at her mother who was
chatting with her father. Evidently her mom hadn’t seen a picture of the real
Marc Charleston.

A clap of thunder made her as well as
everyone else beneath the large tent jump. Nervous laughter filled the area.

Great. A summer storm.

Gia hadn’t noticed the scent of rain or the
graying clouds that were more than obvious now, blocking out the sun and dimming
the area so that the lights in the tent flickered on. The pavilion’s side
panels were moaning as they slipped into place, blocking out the wind that had
kicked up, sending the android waiters scurrying to catch napkins caught in the
breeze. In seconds the heaters would turn on and warmth would dissolve the
chill in the room, but not her bones.

The entire congregation would be trapped
together.

That’s all Gia needed. To be sequestered in
this area unable to escape. She was dying to get on the computer to take a look
at the real Marc Charleston.

At the first sign of clouds gathering, Paul
Easton had recommended they pack up and head back to the house. Lightning
zigzagging across the sky had been known to change direction and start more
than a few forest fires. It wasn’t safe.

Even though a light sprinkle began, Paul
appeared to be lagging behind. Did the man want to talk? Marc dropped back from
the crowd.

“So android development is lucrative?” Paul
shifted his fishing pole to his other hand.

Scott sidled up to them. His expression
said he wanted to hear Marc’s answer.

“Very lucrative.” He didn’t expand on his
answer.

“I’m curious,” Scott said, “do you think
this is just a fad with women?”

Marc shook his head. “No. Women are really
no different than men. There are a number of reasons why women are lonely or
dissatisfied, looking for other entertainment or companionship.”

Scott harrumphed. “There can’t be that many
similarities.”

“You’d be surprised. Not enough sex in or
out of marriage. Self-esteem. Revenge or payback for past wrongs.” He shrugged.
“You know, an eye for eye or Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Some feel
neglected or underappreciated. Their mates emotionally withdraw. Lack of
intimacy. Bedroom boredom. Of course, just like men, some women want to wear
the ‘bad girl’ emblem for the night.”

“So your units cure all their woes?” A hint
of sarcasm rose in Scott’s tone. His father reprimanded him with a single
scornful look.

“No. I provide a product that serves many
needs. How one chooses to use them is up to that particular person. In reality,
there is so much more to my androids than pleasure, but who am I to knock
pleasure?”

“What about Gina? She’s been hurt too many
times and taken advantage of,” Paul stated bluntly. “What’s going on between
the two of you?”

The young Mr. Easton’s directness took Marc
aback for a moment. He’d better tread lightly. “We’re exploring the
possibilities. I care very deeply for your daughter, but there is no denying
that we live different lifestyles. I guess it’ll depend on the paths we both
take in the future.” What he really wanted to say is that he loved her and that
if she would have him, he was hers forever.

The remainder of their return passed in
silence, especially since the rain had increased and all of them picked up the
pace. Marc was out of breath by the time they reached the house. He stomped off
the mud on his shoes before entering. The large dwelling was unusually quiet.
Little activity was about except for a few of the staff who noted the
footprints they were leaving on the clean marble floor. In a split second a
small robot appeared, working quickly to remove all tracks.

Paul sidestepped the small unit scurrying
around. “In case of bad weather, Elaine has arranged games beneath the
pavilion. We can clean up and join them. I’ll see you out there.”

Without delay, Marc stepped upon the
escalator. The unexpected weather had messed up his plans to sneak away with
Gina and talk, really talk. Maybe the rain wouldn’t last long.

At the top of the stairs, he headed for the
bedroom assigned to him and Gina. Without pausing, he entered the bathroom and
turned the shower on before toeing his shoes off and stripping out of his
soaked clothing.

The warm water felt soothing flowing down
his body. The only thing missing was Gina. The thought of her made his cock
harden. He closed his eyes, imagining her there with him. Their bodies pressed
together, her lips on his. His soapy hand smoothed down his abdomen until he
cupped himself.

Damn. He was missing her.

He opened his eyes and quickly washed and
rinsed before grabbing a towel and drying off. In no time he was dressed in a
pair of black pants, a thin sweater and dress shoes. The bedroom door closed
quietly behind him as he stepped into the hall and made his way down the stairs.

A maid met him at the living room door with
an umbrella. “You’ll need this, Mr. Charleston.” She held the door wide.

“Thank you.” He pushed a button and the
umbrella unfolded.

As he neared the tent, he heard streams of
laughter. It appeared the weather had not dampened everyone’s fun. On his
approach, the door swung wide and he strolled in.

“Charleston.”

Marc turned and his heart fell to his feet.

He looked eye to eye with Chad Struma,
retired president of Struma’s National Bank and, more importantly, Gina’s
grandfather.

Marc shook the man’s hand. “It’s been a
while.” His stomach knotted.

“Too long,” the shrewd man said, taking
Marc’s measure. “How are your brothers?”

Marc fought not to search the crowd for
Gina. “They are well, sir. And you?” Maybe she wouldn’t see him speaking with
her grandsire. Wishful thinking, but that was all he had to hold on to.

“A small case of bronchitis.” He coughed
and then cleared his throat. “Not bad otherwise. Retirement is agreeing with
me. Elaine tells me your business is doing well.”

Elaine?

Of course, the new president of Struma’s
National bank had probably performed a complete workup on him and his
financials and family. The knowledge should have aggravated him, but he
couldn’t blame Gina’s family for looking out for her interest. Too many people
were willing to take advantage of her. At least her family wouldn’t believe he
was after her money.

“The Institute is doing very well. We have
just released the new models.”

“Good. Glad to hear that. Let’s take a
seat.” As they began to walk toward an open table, the elderly man narrowed his
sight on Marc. “I hear you escorted my granddaughter here.”

Marc should have known this was coming.
Struma was never good at beating around the bush. “Yes sir, I did.”

Struma stopped before his chair. His
expression was blank, unreadable. “And?”

Marc swallowed hard. In reality there was
no reason to lie. If things worked out to his liking, then he planned on
marrying Gina, if she was receptive to his offer. “Truthfully, I am enamored of
your granddaughter.”

With a shaky hand, Struma pulled out a
chair and nearly collapsed into the seat. “Does she share your feelings?”

Did she? Yes, if last night was any
measure, but after she discovered his betrayal it was anyone’s guess.

Marc sat across from Gina’s grandfather. “I
believe she will need to answer that question for herself.”

“What question?”

A shiver slid down Marc’s spine. He
hesitated before glancing around to find Gina standing behind him. She drifted
between them and Marc took a moment to study her.

Her backbone was rigid. Not a good sign.

He mentally squirmed beneath the heat in
her eyes. Then she turned and her fury dissolved as she faced her grandfather.
Without a doubt, Gina was giving the performance of a lifetime.

Warmth spread across the old man’s face.
“Come sit by me, baby girl.”

Before she took her seat, she gifted her
grandfather with a kiss on the cheek. “So you both know each other?” She
avoided eye contact with Marc.

“Charleston and I go way back. As I said
earlier, I knew his parents. They were patrons of our bank. Charleston and his
brothers have remained with us throughout the years.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” Not a note of sarcasm
rang in her words, but Marc wasn’t a fool. He had been caught
in flagrante
delicto
, red-handed.

Gina knew the truth.

“Now, missy, Charleston was sharing with me
his feelings toward a particular granddaughter of mine. I was wondering if that
granddaughter shared his sentiment.”

She chuckled lightly. “Grandpa, you know I
would never kiss and tell.” A spark ignited in her eyes when she turned her icy
glare onto Marc. “Tell me more about your relationship with my grandfather. It
seems there is a lot about you I don’t know.”

It took everything Gia had not to scream
until her lungs burst into flames. Once again a man had betrayed her.

For a woman who thought herself
intelligent, she had been so very stupid. All the signs were there. For one
thing he snored, not badly, but snored all the same. A perfect man would not
snore. He ate, drank and used the facilities regularly.
Duh!
Where had
her head been except up her ass?

And then there were his tender expressions,
both caring and cherishing. The way he held her, kissed her, made love to
her—all lies. She’d lay a bet that the jealousy he had shown when Doug had arrived
the day before was false as well.

Hell. The man was a better actor then she
was.

Humiliation made her tremble like a leaf
thrown about by the wind, but on the outside she remained calm, even a little
detached, sitting between Marc and her grandfather at a table beneath the large
tent. No one else seemed to notice how thick the air had become or that the
temperature beneath the canopy had climbed as her family continued to play
charades, sonic twister and electronic card games.

Except Marc, who was beginning to perspire.
Small beads of sweat dampened his forehead. His troubled expression was one of
dread, like a man who had been caught with his pants around his ankles.