MaleAndroidCompanion (3 page)

Chapter Two

“Where the hell is that laser? It couldn’t
have just walked away.” Marc Anthony Charleston scanned the marble showroom for
the fourth time. The three-inch tool was nowhere to be found. Stepping behind
the couch, he dropped to his knees and bent to peer beneath the sofa.

As he moved to his belly, he reached
blindly, fingers sweeping across the floor. Nothing. Yet there was no way
losing his favorite tool would squash the excitement welling inside him. Today
was the grand opening and the first release of this year’s models, the 2095
Ecstasy line.

He had achieved what no other had—he had
created the perfect man.

Well. Perfect by the definition of a focus
group of approximately three hundred women, a sample taken from across the
United States. He just hoped the world saw his work for what it was worth. His
inventions weren’t mere sex toys, but a huge advancement in science. Pride
rose, warming his neck and spreading across his face. Each android had been
designed not only to pleasure its owner, but Marc had programmed them to think
and analyze situations and to react accordingly to service their clients’ every
need.

The sound of hollow footsteps brought his
head up. The showroom wouldn’t open for another thirty minutes. Mrs. Oxford was
early, which meant she was anxious. Dressed in jeans, a polo shirt and casual
loafers, Marc wasn’t prepared to contend with the public or the prestigious
customer.

“I think you’ll be impressed with the
twelve available models.” Toil’s voice thickened with heat—he was interested in
the female. “We have every variety. With everything a woman could desire.”

“Or at least the top twelve chosen by
market research,” Marc muttered to himself as he remained hidden behind the
couch.

He heard the woman’s gasp of awe and knew
she was impressed. Who wouldn’t be?

Twelve good-looking men, some with ebony
hair like his, others blond, brunet, and there was even a redhead who lounged
around the intimate room designed for seduction. A crystal chandelier was dimly
lit and over twenty candles dotted around the room, giving off a hint of
cinnamon. Thick, heavy drapes caressed the darkened windows. Small couches
built for only two and several plush chairs were arranged near the fireplace,
with a bucket of champagne arranged on each side.

On his hands and knees, Marc chuckled
softly. Toil couldn’t be attracted to Mrs. Oxford. Even the best modern
enhancements couldn’t hide that she was pushing sixty. The horny old broad was
married and looking for a plaything, not a real man who would cost her
everything should her better half discover her infidelity. This he knew because
he had spoken to her personally. The woman planned to introduce one of Marc’s
androids as the pool boy to her husband. Not the most auspicious beginning for
one of his creations, but it would be a good testament of their ability to
“pass”.

“Tell me more.” The young female’s tone was
soft, sexy and oddly familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. One thing he
knew, she was definitely not Mrs. Oxford. “Are they really lifelike? Enough to
fool anyone? Even the press?”

A satisfied grin tugged at the corners of
Marc’s mouth. Countless hours of research had gone into every robot. He had
personally seen to their training, during which he had learned a thing or two
he was eager to try.

Each one of the androids had been
programmed to know exactly what a woman enjoyed and they knew all the ways to
pleasure her. But more importantly, his creations had been programmed on
current events, politics and any other imaginable subject. They had each been
given occupations and a life history. Whoever the woman with Toil was, Marc
would stake his reputation she would not be able to tell the difference between
one of his robots and a real man.

“M.A.C. guarantees that the 2095 Ecstasy
model will be undetected as an android by anyone on the street or,” Toil’s
voice dropped an octave lower, “anyone slipping between the sheets with one of
them.”

It wasn’t what the salesman said but how he
spoke that confirmed for Marc the woman must be pretty. Toil only went for
those who registered at least an eight on the beauty scale.

“Whatever your fantasy…” The salesman
paused. When he spoke again his voice turned husky. “Whatever your
kink
,
the 2095 will comply. Troy.” He called the six-foot-two android’s name. Test
markets had shown that the blond bodybuilder would undoubtedly be a favorite
amongst most women. “Gentlemen, come say hello.”

Marc began to rise as his hand touched
something cold. The laser. He closed his fingers around the tool as Troy
hummed, “My pleasure.” When Marc pushed to his feet, the client was hidden by
the android’s broad physique, but he could see that she held a ball cap in one
hand.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but—” Nervous
laughter spilled forth. “I-I mean the pleasure is mine, but he’s not exactly
what I’d take home to meet the family.”

So, she had an agenda—a man to meet the
family? Marc was rethinking his earlier “pretty” assumption. She needed her
family to believe she had a man.

When the customer stepped beyond Troy, her
back to Marc, his heart stuttered. Sexy. Soft, generous curves, a sensual sway
to her hips that made it look as if she glided toward Alex, a brunet android
dressed in a suit and tie. Elbow propped on the fireplace mantel, the android
smiled invitingly. In a large chair next to him, Pierce, a more rugged-looking
android decked out in jeans and a flannel shirt, rose to greet her.

Each of the androids introduced himself and
spoke with her briefly, but Marc’s gaze was pinned on her shapely body. When he
realized what he was doing, he thought
butter,
laughing inwardly. That’s
how his nephew had described his older brother’s girlfriend.

“She’s butter. Got a great rack but—her
face is
uuug-ly
.” Nathan’s smart-ass remark had Brandon throwing fists.
Marc had to step between the two rascals to stop the fight. The memory came and
went quickly as he pulled his attention back to the woman.

One thing he did have to say about her, she
had gorgeous hair. Full and long, the color of mahogany, it flowed down her
back to rest at the gentle swell of her ass, which was wrapped in tight blue
jeans.

And what an ass. Just right for a man’s
palms.

She stood silently for a moment before
spinning around. “I don’t know.”

Pushing her sunglasses up and into her
hair, she revealed the bluest eyes. Eyes Marc had admired before. In fact, on
more occasions then he cared to disclose, he had not only stared at pictures of
those eyes, but had also traced every curve of the statuesque starlet’s body
while placing the movie on pause so he could breathe in her beauty. Gia Easton
had been the leading lady in his nightly dreams.

But something was off.

Rolling the laser between two fingers, he
watched her intently. The confident way she held herself on the silver screen
was missing. Instead he swore her almond-shaped eyes held the weight of the
world. The life-light that usually glowed around her was gone. Then again,
artificial lighting and makeup could accomplish anything. On another twist, the
laser slipped from his hands and pinged against the marble floor, the tinny
sound drawing everyone’s attention, including hers.

A quick, blasé scan of Marc’s person and
Miss Easton pivoted back around. “He’ll do. Can you call for transportation?”

Marc’s eyes widened with disbelief. “He’ll
do?” he grumbled.

A sudden flood of anger heated his neck,
stinging his ears.
Fuck this.
His androids required more consideration
then what she offered them. In fact,
he
deserved more than a cursory
glance.

Who the hell did the woman think she was?
And what gave her the idea that he was one of the androids?

“But—” Toil’s jaw dropped when Marc placed
a finger to his lips. He’d just show Miss Gia Easton a thing or two.

With her back to Marc, she folded her arms
across her voluptuous breasts and leaned on a hip, taking a defensive stance.
“What’s the problem?”

“Uhhh,” Toil stammered.

“
Oh.
Of course. Money.” Sarcasm
rolled off her tongue.

“Money?” Toil parroted her like a dummy.

Behind her back, Marc shook his head and
mouthed “no charge”.

“No charge?” Toil jerked his attention from
Marc quickly back to Miss Easton. “I mean, no charge.”

Rolling his eyes, Marc shook his head
again. Toil was a good salesman but he was losing it with this customer. Of
course, Marc wasn’t the usual purchase and the situation was highly unethical.

Miss Easton shot a glance in Marc’s
direction and he stilled.

“No charge?” A neatly groomed brow rose but
plunged suspiciously when Marc smiled a grin he knew wasn’t sincere. She
frowned, slowly turning toward Toil.

“Since you are the first to own a 2095—”
Toil shifted his feet. Marc swore he’d kill the man if he blew this deal. “It
would be an honor if you would take— Ummm. Marc. Home with you.” He cleared his
throat. “If he meets with your satisfaction then we can talk price.”

Nice recovery.
But then Marc tensed.
What the hell am I thinking?

Anxiety lit up his nerve endings. Clearly
that was the problem. He
wasn’t
thinking. It wouldn’t be the first time
his wounded pride got him into trouble. Fact is, he had reacted to her
indifference and now there was no way out of the predicament he found himself
in. It was as simple as that.

A quarter-turn of her delectable body and
Marc could see her porcelain features again.

“Sounds reasonable.” Reaching for her sunglasses,
she slid them down her forehead and nose to shield her eyes before she started
to cram all that silky hair beneath the ball cap she placed on her head. “Of
course, no one can know about our arrangement.”

Toil raised his chin at the same time he straightened
his shoulders. “Discretion is of the utmost importance to our clients and our
company. No one will ever know about
this
arrangement.”

No one could ever know.
Marc swore the smell of a lawsuit hung bitter in the air.

“Do I take him now or will you deliver
him?”

Her tongue slid between her lips, causing
Marc’s body to tighten. Not exactly what he needed when he required all his
faculties about him. Somehow he had to find a way out of this mess. Perhaps
Toil could call her later and say there was a recall on the current “Marc”
model.

But before he could get Toil’s attention to
recommend delivery, the salesman asked, “What would be your preference?”

“I’ll take him now.” There was no
hesitation in her answer. “The sooner we get to know each other the better.”

So much for Marc’s idea, although the
thought of getting to know her
better
did funny things to his body.
Blood rushed to his groin and he almost groaned out loud. Did she have this
effect on all men or was it just him?

“Now, if you could arrange for
transportation, I’m in a hurry.” Without another word, she walked away. Well,
it wasn’t quite a walk, but a glide. The little sway in her hips caught both
his and Toil’s attention.

As Marc started to follow her, Toil grabbed
his arm. “What the hell are you thinking?” Worry etched the salesman’s
forehead. “This is bad. So bad.”

“Relax, Toil.” It was easier said than
done. Marc felt like his skin was on fire. Just the thought of holding the
starlet in his arms burned him from the inside out, or was it his
bent-out-of-shape pride? “Get me set up with the things we send out with all
our units. Include my personal luggage that’s in the office.”

After tonight, Marc’s plan had been to
escape for a much-needed vacation, but he’d exchange Cancun for Gia Easton in a
heartbeat, especially if it meant teaching her a lesson about the respect owed
to his androids.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” A
vein in Toil’s throat bulged. “What the impact to your reputation, this
company, will be if your ruse is revealed?”

Marc remained silent. Yeah. It could get
messy. Then again it could be worth it. Without another thought, he followed
his new owner toward the back exit.

Sitting in a black unmarked limousine as it
sped toward her house, Gia stared at her new purchase. He sat quietly across
from her. When their eyes met he flashed her a roughish grin.