VirtualHeaven

Ann
Lawrence

Blush Sensuality Level: This is
a sensual romance (love scenes are not graphic)

Book one in the Perfect Heroes
series.

Nothing extraordinary has ever
happened to Maggie O’Brien until the day she plays a fantasy game called
Tolemac
Wars
. When something goes awry, Maggie finds herself a slave in a very
frightening world engulfed in war. How can she escape this strange place where
men carry swords and others perform magic? When Kered comes to Maggie’s rescue,
she cannot fight the attraction she feels for him. He casts a spell over her
heart that has nothing to do with magic, and when she falls in love, she
realizes she must choose…his world or hers.

Publisher’s Note: This book was
previously published elsewhere in 1999.

A Blush®
fantasy romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my perfect hero.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank and acknowledge the following people
for their help and support:

Judy Di Canio, Edna Frankel, Lisa Hollis McCulley, Lena
Pinto, and Mary Ann Smyth for offering insightful critique.

John Paul Ferrara, a cover artist who aided me in my
research, and allowed me to peek over his shoulder into the fascinating world
of cover art—any errors in content are mine.

Carolyn Grayson, my agent, for guiding me through the
process.

My family, for their understanding whenever I was “lost in
cyberspace”.

In peace, Love tunes
the shepherd’s reed;

In war, he mounts the
warrior’s steed;

In halls, in gay
attire is seen;

In hamlets, dances on
the green.

Love rules the court,
the camp, the grove,

And men below, and
saints above;

For love is heaven,
and heaven is love.

The Lay of the
Last Minstrel

Sir Walter Scott
(1805)

The warrior loomed over her. His leather jerkin, open to his
waist, revealed a bounty of chest muscles and a corrugation of abdominals.
Tight buff breeches hugged lean hips and well-shaped thighs. Maggie O’Brien’s
gaze jumped from his belt buckle to his jewel-encrusted boot knife, avoiding
the obvious indications of a man well endowed. Clear thought fled.

“Is the poster straight now?”

Maggie jerked to attention. “Huh?’’

Gwen Marlowe scrambled down from her low stepladder. “The
poster? Is it straight?”

Maggie crossed her arms and hugged herself against the
chilly air in Virtual Heaven, Gwen’s video game shop. “Yes. It’s fine.”

The two friends faced the poster that advertised
Tolemac
Wars
, a virtual reality game.

“Kinda cute, isn’t he?” Gwen said.

Maggie tipped her head back and examined the man who
bristled with weapons and bulged with muscle.

“You bet.” She sighed. “Why don’t real men look that good?”

“Now, Mag, don’t be so cynical.” Gwen gave a playful tug to
an unruly lock of Maggie’s long black hair. “There are a few men that great,
even here in Ocean City, New Jersey. Maybe if you looked up from your soldering
iron, came out of your jewelry shop, you might see one.”

Maggie snorted with disdain, clinging stubbornly to her
viewpoint. “Some artist conjures them up to torture us wallflowers. He reminds
me of those guys you see on the covers of romance novels. Those men don’t exist
either.”

“Funny you should mention that. The artist who did the
poster is a cover artist for Hearts on Fire Publishing. I just read all about
him in
Video Game
magazine. The article said he uses live models, so
that guy up there really exists. Now, stop gawking and come help me count my
change. Haven’t you seen the Tolemac warrior before? He’s the hottest thing in
virtual reality games.”

Maggie followed Gwen to the front counter. “No. I’ve never
heard of him. You know I hate computer stuff.”

They counted the store’s earnings. There wasn’t much. The
summer crowds were long gone and the stormy November weather was keeping the
less-intrepid Ocean City residents home. The small amount of income did not
really justify the expense of keeping the game store open through the winter.
Each day, another store turned its shuttered face to the nearly empty
boardwalk.

As Gwen chattered, Maggie found her attention drifting to
the poster and the medieval man who dominated it. She caught the tail end of a
question.

“So why did you come here tonight? You might be right next
door, but it seems like we never see each other anymore. I know you didn’t come
to play a game.”

Maggie hid a sheepish grin and went to the front of Gwen’s
store for a bag she’d dropped by the door. A distant roll of thunder reminded
her a nor’easier was moving in. “I’m invited to a storm party—”

“A storm party? What the heck’s that?” Gwen snatched the bag
from Maggie’s hands and spilled the contents on the counter, heaping it with
clothing, jewelry, and shoes.

“You know…an excuse to have a party. I guess it’s also to
mark the end of the season. I was hoping to meet someone new.”

“Finally. I was beginning to worry about you. It’s time you
got over Tony.”

“I’m over Tony,” Maggie murmured. Gwen placed a sympathetic
hand on Maggie’s. “You say that, but your reclusive behavior tells me
different. I want my happy, vibrant friend back. You’ve hidden in your jewelry
shop for months. I know he hurt you, Mag, but Tony and you just weren’t meant
to be. Try to think of him as just another boyfriend.”

Maggie dipped her head and hid behind her hair. Gwen had no
idea of the depths of humiliation and pain that thoughts of Tony engendered,
even now, months after their breakup.
There would never be another Tony.
After all, there couldn’t be another man so mercurial anywhere on earth.

Or Maggie hoped not. “I really thought we’d eventually get
married, Gwen. All those empty promises—’’ Maggie mentally shook herself,
determined to banish the painful thoughts. She straightened and met her
friend’s eyes. “Help me pick something to wear. I can’t make up my mind. I want
to look good.” Maggie grimaced. “My stomach is in knots just thinking about
it.”

“Maggie, you could go in those old gray sweats and you’d
look good. You’d have all the dates you wanted if you’d just try a little. Bat
those gorgeous blue eyes. Put on some blush. Flaunt those cheekbones.”

For a bleak moment, Maggie considered her friend’s words.
“I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“Yes, you are. Think positively. Not all men are domineering
womanizers like Tony. Give another guy half a chance and you might find a whole
new world out there. Now, let’s see these outfits.” Gwen sorted through the
pile of clothing and held up a short red dress. “Pretty stunning, but not you.”
She cast it aside in favor of a wad of black material. Shaking it out, she
said, “You always look great in black. Let’s see this on you.”

Maggie cast a regretful glance at the red dress. She’d spent
a fortune on it and the matching shoes in an uncharacteristic moment of panic
spending.

She looked about the long, low displays of games. “Where
shall I go? I can’t change out here.”

Maggie and Gwen turned to the expanse of glass windows
fronting the boardwalk shop. Rain pelted the window, obscuring their view of
the wide, wooden promenade and the roiling ocean just beyond a stretch of sand.

“I think the bathroom is probably freezing about now. I
know! The virtual reality booth. Come on.” Gwen led Maggie to a freestanding
chamber by the poster that had occupied so much of Maggie’s attention.

Maggie paused at the entrance and stared up at the warrior.
“He is beautiful. Arrogant, I would think, but…powerful.”

The warrior had eyes an improbable shade of aqua. His
tangled brown hair reminded Maggie of a surfer’s, with sun streaks like streams
of lava running through its length. Above him, the Tolemac sun, a red nightmare
in a purple sky, appeared ready to sink behind a mountain range of sharp peaks,
their summits capped with gilded snow.

“Who’s the woman behind him?” Maggie asked Gwen. “Why’s she
so indistinct? She almost blends into the background.”

“I call her the Shadow Woman. She pops up at the most
convenient times and saves him from some peril. She’s a slave.”

“How do you know she’s a slave?” Maggie asked.

“No arm rings.” Gwen entered the virtual reality booth.

Maggie’s gaze returned to the warrior. Three silver-hued
rings encircled his well-developed upper arm. Maggie sighed, then followed
Gwen. “Is she his slave?”

“Maybe. I only know she’s really good at saving his butt. I
suppose, after we go home, after the shop is closed, he rewards her, somewhere
out there in cyberspace.”

“Cyberspace? Do I know where that is?”

Gwen just shook her head. “We’ve really gotta work on you.”

The virtual reality booth was formed by four matte-black
walls. Gwen crossed the chamber to stand behind a console on a tiny, raised
platform that faced a curving expanse of white screen.

“This screen lets me watch what the player is doing,” she
said. “When really young kids play for the first time, I give them hints. If I
didn’t, Mr. Warrior God out there would be buzzard bait in two minutes. Wanna
try? I can walk you through the opening scenes.”

“No way.” Maggie cringed, her words punctuated by a loud
roll of thunder. The lights flickered. Maggie grabbed Gwen’s arm as they were
momentarily plunged into darkness before the lights came back and steadied.
Maggie gasped. “That was scary.”

“Just another storm,” Gwen answered, unconcerned. “Try on
that dress.” Gwen played with the console a moment as Maggie pulled off her
gray sweatshirt and sweatpants and kicked off her sneakers. “Don’t tell me
you’re still wearing that old underwear from college.”

Maggie looked down at her faded panties and bra. The elastic
was shot in the bra, and the straps repeatedly slipped off her shoulders. In
exasperation, she unhooked it and tossed it aside.

She lifted the black knit dress and held it against herself.
“I’ve worn this a million times.”

“If you look great in it, who cares?” Gwen tapped a few
buttons on the console. A soft glow rose from the edge of the screen and
suffused to a deep indigo as it sharpened into the same background featured in
the poster. The words
Tolemac Wars
flashed red on the screen and then
began to drip like bloody wounds.

Gwen punched another button and the Tolemac warrior emerged.

Maggie stood gape-mouthed as the man from the poster
approached on the screen. Despite a long sword and other weapons, there was
nothing hesitant or clumsy about the warrior’s movements. He came out of the
purple shadows, his stride confident, his movements lithe and fluid. He kept
his head down, watching his step on the rocky terrain.

Maggie swallowed, the dress forgotten. “He looks so real.”

“That’s the point. The quality of the projection is
incredible, isn’t it? It’s even more phenomenal with the headset. Don’t you
feel like you could reach out and touch him?”

A flush heating her face, Maggie clasped the black dress to
her bare breasts.

“He can’t see you, Mag.” Gwen grinned. “Go ahead, flash it
for him.”

Maggie didn’t know what came over her. She threw out her
arms and let the dress fall to the floor. Up on the screen, the warrior
suddenly raised his head and paused, one boot poised to step over a tree root.
He looked right at her.

And smiled.

With a gasp, Maggie flung her arms across her chest.

Gwen’s full-bellied laugh drowned her cry of embarrassment.
“Oh, Maggie! You should see your face! The game always starts like that. I
never thought you’d actually go bare for him. You must really like the guy. Try
to remember he’s only a devastating combination of computer pixels.”

Maggie realized she hid herself from a man who might be
smiling as if he enjoyed her naked display, but in reality was only a flicker
of light and shadow. “That was mean,” Maggie chastised Gwen, then smiled
ruefully. “I have to admit, though, you have perfect timing.”

She averted her eyes from the Tolemac warrior, who now stood
on the edge of a precipice, scanning the landscape, his hand wrapped about his
sword hilt.

Suddenly, the screen dissolved to black. Maggie felt an
intense sense of loss. He seemed so real. The warrior looked as if he could
step down from the screen and sweep her up in his arms. The reality of it
disturbed her.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. Damn.” Gwen fiddled with the console, but
there was no response on the screen. “At least I don’t have to give you a
refund. I guess I’ll have to call the repair guy.” Gwen slapped the console and
the soft purple sky reappeared. “Yes!” she cried.

Reflecting shadows from the screen danced across Gwen’s face
as Maggie slipped into the black knit dress, an old favorite, practical yet
elegant. She walked up to Gwen, who stood commander-like at her console and
offered her back, bringing her hair forward. Gwen fastened the row of covered
buttons trailing down the back of the sleeveless dress.

Maggie stole another look at the warrior. He stood on the
precipice, outlined in a golden glow. It touched him with a muted purple hue as
the fiery crimson sun slipped behind the peaks. Just as the luminous glow
faded, the Tolemac warrior unsheathed his sword. In one fluid motion, he swept
it aloft and the last ray of light flashed off the blade, shooting out to cross
a rusty plain of craggy rocks. The light touched a distant peak and settled
there in a ball of flame.

Maggie stood open-mouthed.

“You’re drooling,” Gwen said softly. “Would you like to
play? You can be the Shadow Woman and fight at his side, defend his back.”

Maggie turned away, flipping her hair over her shoulders,
feeling foolish and ridiculous.
I really need to get out more
. How else
could she explain becoming mesmerized by a painting, transfixed by light and
shadow, color and form? She forced herself to leave the chamber and sort
through the jumble of jewelry draped across Gwen’s counter.

Carefully, Maggie untangled a necklace, one she’d made for
her shop, Maggie’s Treasures. She lifted it over her head, then let it slide to
rest between her breasts. The pendant, a lump of turquoise entwined in fine and
delicate strands of silver, floated at the end of a chain like a blue planet
hangs in the heavens.

She slipped on a pair of black suede flats, then returned to
the virtual reality chamber. As she approached the opening, thunder rolled
again. The lights flickered and dimmed. A sensation of falling streaked through
Maggie’s body. She clutched the wall. Her palm flattened against the poster,
touched the hilt of the Tolemac warrior’s jewel-encrusted boot knife.

A spark leaped.

Maggie stifled a scream and snatched back her hand. In the
flickering lights, the knife swelled and gained another dimension, each line of
the knife’s Celtic engravings standing out in stark relief about the gems. Then
the lights steadied, came up to bright, and the knife dissolved into a collection
of shadows and color, an artist’s drawing, flat and unreal.

Sure she’d imagined it, Maggie hurried back to where Gwen
cursed over her console. “Is it safe to be operating the game in this storm?”
Maggie peered at the complicated equipment with a worried frown.

“Sure, it’s got surge protection. The worst that will happen
is a shutdown.” Gwen looked up at Maggie and grinned. “You look great. I’ve
always loved that dress. It flatters you.”

“Do you think so?” Maggie plucked at the skirt. It flowed
past her knees and fell in a sweep just below her calves. “I’m not sure.” She
wished for the total confidence of her friend. Gwen’s red sweater, typical of
her bold color choices, made Maggie’s grays and blacks fade into the
background.