Love For Sale

by Linda Nightingale

  He leaned close, silken hair brushing her face. His breath was warm on her cheek, and a delicious shiver rippled over her. The moment, the wonder at it all, held her heart in check. She felt numb yet vibrantly alive, as if she’d been given sight after years of blindness. I’m staring, but I simply can’t surrender the vision of him at last.

  In that incredibly beautiful voice, he whispered, “I have always been yours.”

  He stood back, his soft smile and the light in his eyes warming her. They gazed into each other’s eyes, the silence between them filled with hopes and promises. In the faceted depths of his blue eyes, she saw confirmation of his feelings. She had no doubts about hers. Finally, March Morgan was head-over-heels in love…with a virtual stranger.

  “Choice made.” Melissa folded her hands in front of her.

  March couldn’t tear her gaze from his sparkling blue eyes. “You are so beautiful. I am so lucky.”

  He touched her arm—the lightest caress of a long, elegant…human finger. “I am the lucky one. You are more than beautiful, March. It’s easy to see that you are a good, kind, and caring woman as well.”

  March breathed a laugh. Christian, yes, that’s what she would name perfection. He cradled her face between his hands. Spellbound, she watched him lower his mouth to hers. He wisped the barest of kisses to her lips. Trembling, she threaded her fingers in his glorious hair and deepened the kiss, her tongue plunging into his satin mouth. She kissed him with all the thwarted passion of the long lonely years. He hugged her close to his denim-sheathed body. Melissa and nine exquisite creations watched, but March didn’t care. She melted into his embrace, loving the feel of lean muscle against her softness.

  A chill settled on her as she imagined Michael asking, “Mom, who is this guy?”

  She’d think about that tomorrow—or next week or the next—when they came to claim her from paradise.

  “Shall we leave you two alone?” Melissa’s soft chuckle whiplashed March out of Christian’s arms.

  She wheeled, blushing. The other androids had slipped away. Understanding brimmed in Melissa’s dark eyes, her smile uncommonly warm. From behind her, Christian slipped his arms around March’s waist. She covered his hands with hers. When you closed a purchase, did your companion immediately come with you, or would she have to wait while he was prepared to love her?

  “Christian, return to the others. I’ll summon you when March is ready.”

  When his hands dropped to his sides, the heat of his touch lingered on her skin. She didn’t want him to go, didn’t want him out of her sight, now or ever. Her wish had finally come true. He’d be programmed to give her undivided attention and unconditional love. A guilty shiver oozed down her spine. Being a possession seemed wrong and unfair to the beautiful man still standing behind her.

  “Must I?” He rested his hands on her shoulders.

  “I would like for him to stay.” Again, March covered his hands with hers, relishing their warmth and smoothness.

  “We have certain business yet to complete, and Christian must see Stefan, our chief programmer.” Melissa gestured at the door through which the other androids had disappeared. “We won’t keep you apart very long.”

  March gave a little self-conscious laugh, but she was far too happy to be concerned about what Melissa thought. She patted Christian’s hand and glanced over her shoulder. He squeezed her against him, darting a kiss to the back of her neck. Anywhere else on her neck, but exactly there was an instant turn-on. Without any programming, he seemed to sense her sweet spots.

  Programming, suddenly the word echoed in her head. To her detriment, she’d always preferred alpha men. Their focus, ambition, and sexual drive captivated her. Devotion coded into his being, was it possible for Christian be alpha?

  “See you soon.” She turned, watching him leave the room, his stride purposeful, a little cocky, definitely confident. What a fine ass and that hair!

  If he’d worn black leather instead of a black tuxedo coat, emblazoned in red on his motorcycle jacket would have been Beware: Bad Boy. Yeppy-doodle, I’m in trouble. Oh, but hot damn, everything I could ask for!

  March laughed aloud, wanting to whirl a quick dance. Yesterday, a Boeing 747 had transported her to Heaven.

  “Good choice. He’s a doll, sweet and caring.” Melissa nodded at the double doors March had entered only minutes ago, her soul starving. “Since all the units are born the same, not quite sure, but I must warn you he’s a bit arrogant, and he’s all man.”

  March nodded vigorously. “I can see that. Now what?”

  The female android turned, beckoning for March to follow. “The exit interview and financial arrangements, the programming will be tested, then I’ll request a limo to return you and your new companion to the hotel.”

  Mayfair would arrange everything, no detail skipped.

  “I’d like to extend my stay at the hotel, spend my vacation here, getting to know Christian.” Images of touring the city with him spooled lazily through her mind, her heart soaring. “Will he be in the interview?”

  Melissa said over her shoulder, “He’s being prepared. March, I must say he seemed to love you at first sight, without special programming. The detailed information in your profile is encoded with the undying affection. This Christian model is very human. I’ve never seen him react to a client as he did with you. I think he’s going to make you a very happy woman.”

  The tall, blond Christian had already made her a happy woman, and she was anxious to take him home. “How long will preparation take?”

  “About as long as the exit interview. Shall we?” Melissa flung both doors open, and side-by-side they stepped into the hallway.

  Nothing had changed, but everything looked different…brighter, more beautiful. On their return to the main lobby, she felt as if she were floating, her feet merely skimming the floor. Life was bizarre. She had searched for Christian her entire life, only to find her soul mate was an android. Must stop thinking of him as a robot. We could even be married! No birth certificate. No Social Security card. No problem. Marriage was only a word.

  She gripped Melissa’s arm, halting her. “What about the legal documentation, like birth certificates, et cetera?”

  “He has them. How is strictly confidential.” Melissa’s smile was as composed and professional as she. “Christian’s circumstances are somewhat different, and I can tell you that we falsified his birth records using a long dead ancestor of the CEO of Mayfair himself. The Christian line was named for William Christian Aguillard. He has a passport and birth certificate in that name.”

  “You can’t supply an identity for all of them like that. Do you have someone planted in the records department, or is their system hacked and births recorded?”

  Melissa started visibly, glancing away. “You are very perceptive.”

  Was being perceptive good or bad? March had heard that when someone wouldn’t meet your eyes, they were lying.

  “Which is it?” She needed to be sure Christian had the proper documentation. Getting nabbed at Customs would be a real bitch.

  The other woman stiffened. “I’m not allowed to say, but rest assured he has the proper papers to accompany you to America. Once there, our New York office will apply for a work permit. You will need to take care of his Social Security card. Of course, you will receive a certificate for his real birth and ownership from Mayfair.”

  “Ownership,” she muttered. “That seems cold.”

  “File the certificate away and forget it. Be happy. This way.” Melissa waved her hand at an exquisite paneled door. “We’ll conduct the final interview here.”

  “If all his documents are in the name of Christian, then why did he tell me a name would be my gift to him? Not that it matters. I love the name Christian.”

  “He simply meant that you can give him a name.” Melissa sat behind a large, inlaid desk and opened a blue file. “However, it won’t be his official name. Is there anything other than what was in your profile you’d
like included in his programming?”

  March snapped her fingers. “An English accent. His voice is like a melody.”

  “Done.” Melissa whipped her cell from the pocket of her uniform. “Stefan, Christian is to be given an English accent.”

  The interview room looked like a British Gentlemen’s Club and smelled of wood paneling and the deep red leather chairs. Faint music played as a relaxing backdrop. A misty rain cloaked the mullioned windows. Dread and excitement shivered over March. Images of Christian flashed through her mind as she took the seat Melissa indicated with a graceful wave of her hand. Across the polished expanse of the desk, the android smiled at March.

  “Having you answer these questions is unnecessary. It was obviously love at first sight between you two.” Melissa smoothed stapled pages from the file, taking a pen from the brass stand. “This final discussion is standard procedure. Are you prepared to accept Christian as human?”

  March toyed with the handle of her bag. “Yes.”

  “Do you want to be intimate with him or will you use him for other things—like yard work, for example? When we obtain the work permit, he can obtain employment and possibly support you.”

  March nodded. “I want to be intimate with him. I want to…I do love him.”

  “His love will be unconditional. He has emotions and can be hurt. Do you agree to treat him as a loved one?”

  “Yes, of course.” March shifted to the edge of her seat.

  Melissa ran her finger down a printed page. “His specs say he is thirty.”

  “That’s fine.” March laughed, joking. “I can officially be a cougar.”

  The exit interview was far more personal than the initial meeting. March was glad that Melissa conducted the interview. The female android asked her about the size of his male equipment and the intensity of sexual ardor. March couldn’t believe she was discussing a man’s package with a robot.

  She swallowed embarrassment. “Seven inches and very intense.”

  March was petite and more than seven inches would probably hurt, but she did want a hot and ready lover. Still, the most important of Christian’s many virtues was the ability to love unconditionally. She was prepared to do the same.

  Melissa nodded as if they were talking about his circuitry. “When we obtain a work permit, what profession? He can be programmed as a rocket scientist if you wish.”

  “NASA is in Houston.” She laughed, her thoughts spinning. “Rocket scientist sounds good. I’ve never known one.”

  “Anything else?” Melissa sat back in her chair and smiled.

  “Not a doctor. They have too little time to spend at home.” She shrugged, frowning. “A professor. I know several people who live the academic life. Yes, a professor of English literature.”

  “Well done. Christian is going to be an interesting individual.” Melissa engaged an intercom on her desk. “Stefan, Melissa here. Give Christian programming in Aerospace Engineering and English literature. Make the former primary. Thanks.”

  Melissa’s expression changed with the subject matter of the question. She, too, was flawless. “Are you married?”

  “Divorced a year now.” March could not sit still any longer. She rose, pacing to the window to stare out at the rain. “If I was married, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “You’d be surprised how many married women have inquired. Two purchased.” Melissa closed the blue book of Christian’s specifications. “Only a few more questions.”

  That these perfect men and women were being used as sex toys angered March. “Isn’t that cheating? What does a married woman do with her secret lover when her husband is home? Shut him down and stand him in the closet. Can he be turned off?”

  Melissa arched an eyebrow. “We can be put into sleep mode without damage to our circuitry. You’ll be shown how to do this.”

  “I’ll never want to shut him down.” March wandered back to her chair but didn’t sit. “Turning him off isn’t treating him like a human.”

  Melissa closed the manila folder containing March’s life history and slid a black leather portfolio across the desk. “This contains your paperwork and a background story for Christian. You may, of course, write your own background.”

  She’d always wanted to try her hand at writing. Maybe, she’d test her imagination and invent a history for her lover. Already in place were his birthday, where he was born, and who his parents were. Did he have brothers and sisters? One of each. Where did he study? Oxford and was top of his class. Questions and answers raced through her mind.

  Melissa glided to her feet with a fluid, poised motion. “That’s it. Your answer to the last question makes your intentions clear. No need for further inquiries. You’ll make Christian happy.”

  March shook Melissa’s hand. “I intend to.”

  “Let’s take care of the financial arrangements. We’ll bring Christian in for testing, and you will be free to go with your new companion.” She handed March the portfolio she’d forgotten. “Or should I say lover?”

  “Husband, I think.” Dreams misted her eyes, or was it happy tears?

  Melissa folded her hands and smiled. “Perfect.”

  Tonight, she’d break the dry spell since her divorce with a hot young man. A vision of him naked, inviting her into his arms, stalled before her eyes. Would he make the first move or would she have to arouse him? She wanted him to get hard with tight jeans on. Seven inches trapped in denim would be a turn-on for sure. She hoped he’d be wearing the tux jacket and jeans.

  The low-interest rate loan and generous terms persuaded March to make a monthly Man Payment. She chuckled as she scrawled her name on the dotted line. It was done. Christian was hers, and she was his. Content with the future, she followed Melissa down a different corridor. The walls were sterile white, the floor gray tile.

  “Would you like to see the lab? If so, I won’t summon Christian yet. You can see where he was born and some of the new models being assembled.”

  Images of wires and computer chips flashed through her mind. “I’ll pass on a visit to the lab. I’d rather not see him as a machine. Please summon him and the car. I’d like to get to the hotel before dinner. Oh, does he come with any clothes?”

  Melissa laughed. “Like a Ken doll, he does. The clothes you saw him wearing, a suit, white shirt and tie, a tuxedo, casual pants and polo, a t-shirt and undergarments. You’ll be allowed to choose another set of clothes.”

  A hot fantasy of Christian fully erect, walking toward her interrupted her thoughts. Her nipples even tingled. He wouldn’t be a sex toy, but she couldn’t wait to sink her fingers into his hair and taste his kiss. A delicious throbbing pulsed in her core.

  She winked. “We can dispense with the underwear. I like my men regimental.”

  Melissa surprised her by taking her arm. The girl was perfectly human, very professional, but somewhat aloof. “A woman after my own heart.”

  Then the pretty Asian girl escorted her down the white corridor and into the pale-blue room where she’d first seen Christian. “He’ll be along in a minute. He’s packing. Do you mind if he chooses the clothes?”

  “I want him to choose his wardrobe. He’ll look good in anything.” Or nothing. “I can’t wait to take him shopping.”

  “I’m very happy for you. You’re going to have fun. May I offer you a drink?”

  “Champagne?” March settled on a brocade sofa to wait for the answer to her prayers. “Time to celebrate.”

  Hips swaying gently, Melissa strolled to the ornate antique bar. From a hidden fridge, she produced a bottle of Dom Perignon. A cork popped. She placed the bottle in a silver cooler and filled two champagne flutes, the faceted glass winking in the ambient light. March laid down her portfolio and accepted the bubbly from the other woman. Melissa sank down on the sofa beside her.

  “To life, love, and happiness,” Melissa toasted, fine crystal chiming, then set her untouched champagne aside. “The only difference between us and humans is that we don’t eat or dri
nk, except for a serum for maintaining natural body fluids. Christian will have a supply of vials containing a liquid he ingests that acts as natural body fluids like tears, for example. When these are exhausted, he can contact us for more at no cost.”

  “Tears?” March shook her head. “I hope he never uses the liquid then.”

  Melissa offered an indulgent smile. “It also is expended in the sex act.”

  “Oh…I see.” She felt the color creep into her face.

  A soft knock spun March to face the door. A vision in denim, Christian strode across the plush blue rug, took her glass, and set it beside Melissa’s. He lifted her into a feverish embrace. His lips brushed her mouth, and a fiery thrill shot through her. He released her into a freefall of desire.

  With the back of his hand, he caressed her cheek, his gaze intense, his grin wicked. “Did you miss me?”

  “More than you know,” she whispered, longing to kiss every inch of his fine, fine body.

  He bowed, kissing her hand, thrilling her to the tips of her toes. “I’m ready. My suitcase is at the door. I’m eager to begin our life together.”

  They’d programmed a perfect English accent, an enchanting blend of crisp enunciation and his musical voice like dark honey. This is the last time I’ll think of him as other than human.

  “Me, too.” She ached to get him alone, out of his clothes, and into her.

  God, what was wrong with her? Had she become a nymphomaniac? It was dead easy to see why women bought them as sex toys. That wasn’t her motive.

  “Christian, there’s a short interview. Please sit down.” When Melissa spoke, March remembered the other woman’s presence and snapped awake from his spell. “You needn’t leave, March. More champers?”

  While Melissa quizzed Christian about his intentions and feelings for March, she enjoyed the expensive champagne. This experience was one she’d never forget. Mayfair spared no expense making their clients happy. As she listened to his answers, she soared higher and higher. Happy wasn’t a good enough word. Rapture worked better. The champagne warmed her stomach and made her want to break into the giggles.