by Carol Caiton
Eventually she found herself at the center gate and was surprised to see the main path on the other side fairly crowded. Checking her watch, she saw she'd been wandering around for nearly an hour and a half. Her stomach growled as if on cue, and she decided to walk over to Magnolias. Maybe they were prepared for her arrival and would have her prescribed breakfast plan on hand.
Several passersby looked over at the gate and stared at her. Maybe it was because they were curious about an area of RUSH that was off limits to the general membership, or maybe it was because she was an R-link. She summoned up a polite smile, nodded once, and pressed her hand to the scanner in the wall. Instead of cutting through the food court though, she decided to take the long way around to reach Magnolias.
Turning left, she headed toward the entertainment sector, passing a few more bisecting paths. A row of palm trees lined both sides of the entrance to the mall, but it wasn't open yet so she continued on.
Approaching another side path, she spotted a brass plaque mounted on a stucco pillar that told her she'd arrived at the training center. The blurb in the brochure from Member Services described it as a sprawling, multi-level compound sporting four turrets. Several of her classes would be held there, so she stretched up on tiptoe to try for a glimpse.
"I'd like to take you to breakfast if you haven't already eaten," invited a deep, familiar voice beside her.
Her heels hit the pavement. Simon Yetzer.
The pleasure she'd found in the morning dissolved. How did she manage to keep bumping into this man? Didn't he have chores to take care of over the weekend like normal people?
"Thank you," she answered politely, "but I'm not hungry."
She turned and started walking again.
Of course, he had to fall into step beside her.
She peered at him through the corner of her eye and saw he wore another pair of black slacks. But this time it was paired with a pale gray dress shirt.
"Are you working today?" she asked. Then she squeezed her eyes shut on a brief reprimand. Of course he wasn't working. It was Sunday. He was probably at RUSH for something a whole lot more entertaining than his job.
"I don't work weekends," he said. "I'm here to spend time with you."
Stopping in her tracks, she looked up at him.
"When the system links two people, Nina, it's because they share various levels of compatibility."
She shook her head. Why did he keep talking to her as though they were linked? The day before he'd told her he would be her first lover. But her first lover was going to be one of the instructors. She was an R-link. He knew that. Did he think he could talk her into an encounter? Maybe she should report him for inappropriate behavior.
Without a word she stepped around him and started walking again.
"Nina."
If she didn't like him before, she really didn't like him now. There was no way he could be compatible with her on a variety of levels. In fact, if they had been linked and this was the best RUSH's system could do for her, what did that say about the rest of the men she was likely to be paired with?
Lord, she couldn't think about that right now.
"Nina," he said again. His fingers wrapped around her arm, pulling her to a stop.
Sighing, she looked up with an exasperated expression so he would know he was annoying her.
He had a strong face. Classically handsome. Really handsome. Men who looked like he did went for beautiful fashion-model types. They didn't look twice at girls with lopsided ponytails wearing dowdy clothes.
"I'm going to be your first lover," he said softly. His thumb brushed a light caress on her arm. "It would be a good idea to spend time together so you get used to me."
Get used to him? What a way to phrase that. Then again, if she'd been one of those fashion-model types, she'd probably be tripping all over herself, flustered by his attention. As it was, her heart was beating double-time and he'd barely caressed her arm. But he wasn't interested in her. He didn't even know her. And she didn't like him.
So she reminded herself that she was accustomed to working in an office with high-energy, dynamic people. When that didn't work, she looked around for a distraction and focused on yet another brass plaque mounted on yet another stucco column. The elegant script read Carnelian Jade. Carnelian Jade . . . where most of RUSH's linked couples arranged for a fantasy chamber and engaged in sex.
She slipped her arm out of Simon's grasp and walked on. She needed to speak with someone—her advisor, maybe—and find out what was going on.
"Have you logged onto your account?"
"No. I haven't had a chance." Was the answer in her account?
Her gaze landed on a couple up ahead. Blonde and pretty, the girl smiled up at the tall, dark-haired man she was with. He, in turn, slipped a possessive arm around her waist and smiled back. So involved were they in their own private world, they nearly collided with a group of people approaching from the other direction. At the last minute the dark-haired man pulled the girl close, steering her into a flowerbed, and turned his body so he was the one who took the impact. When apologies were exchanged and everyone continued on their way, the pretty girl turned her way and Nina was sure she recognized her as the receptionist who worked in the administrative building. Denny Something-or-other. Apparently there were couples who really were compatible on a variety of levels. The receptionist and her protective, caring partner gave Nina a bit of hope for her own future.
"Nina, look at me," Simon ordered, with a touch of irritation.
Pausing, she turned to face him, but the pavement was crowded so she moved off to the side, closer to a privacy wall similar to the stucco one that surrounded the R-link complex. Even the entrance gate was narrow, allowing only a single person to pass through at a time. Unlike the R-link complex, however, this gate opened to anyone pressing his or her palm on the biometric scanner. She looked for the brass plate that would identify the venue and spotted it mounted to the fixed wrought iron above the gate. Threshold was etched in the familiar elegant script.
She craned her neck to see beyond the gate. This, she remembered, was the unbridled, darker side of RUSH. A place to dabble in extremes. Inside was a tavern and a separate building with individual chambers for E-level 8 encounters.
Speculating on what those encounters might include, she watched as a man, dressed only in black leather pants, boots, and a matching black vest approached the scanner. When the woman behind him came into view, equally outfitted in black and wearing a half mask, Nina gaped at the spiked collar around her neck and the leash attached to it. Appalled, she realized the leather-clad man held the other end, leading the woman as though walking a pet dog. God!!!!
"Intrigued?"
Nina kept staring.
"Maybe he'll replace that domino with a blindfold," Simon went on. "After that, he might add manacles and chain her—naked, of course—with her legs spread wide and her wrists over her head. And when she's completely vulnerable," he continued, "she might feel a dozen hands stroking and probing her body. But she'll never know the faces of the men he shares her with. She'll only be able to count the number of times she's been fucked."
Nina whipped her head around.
"That's all it is, Nina. Indiscriminate fucking. No emotion, no compatibility."
"That was just . . . crude," she sputtered.
"Yes, it was."
"Are you purposely trying to disgust me?"
"Yes."
She stared at him, incredulous. If, by chance, she actually did have a link with this man, she was going to ask for a different partner. "You're horrible."
"Stay away from Threshold."
"That's like waving a red flag in my face." God, he had a nerve.
In fact, she had no desire to go exploring inside Threshold. Not after what he'd just told her. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting that. "Will the scanner accept my palmprint even though I'm an R-link?" She knew she was taunting him, but the words just tumbled
out."
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me," she insisted. "Give me one good reason why I should believe what you said."
"I can give you twenty. Easily. Threshold is a place for hard-core entertainment—the kind that would make a professional step back."
Stubbornly, childishly, she persisted. "Will the scanner read my palmprint?"
His mouth tightened.
"Will it?"
His eyes suddenly glittered with anger. He inhaled so deeply, his chest expanded before he bit out, "If you want to peddle it so badly, why don't you auction it off?"
Her mouth fell open.
"You'd rake in a hell of a lot for the pleasure . . . or would that be pain?"
Stunned, she stepped back. Had he actually said that? "You. Stay. Away from me."
She whirled around and hurried back toward the R-link complex. It was the only place she knew of where he couldn't follow.
"Nina—" He caught up and reached for her arm.
"Don't touch me!" She shook him off before his grip caught hold. "I want you to go away. I don't like you. I have a choice, don't I? I can get a different link. It doesn't have to be you!"
* * *
Goddamn it!
Simon withdrew his hand.
"What have I done to make you so hostile?" she whipped out. "You've badgered and bullied me from the moment we met."
He knew she wasn't lying. He'd—
"You know what? Never mind. I don't need to know. I don't want to know. Because I'm not the one with the problem." She started walking backwards, eyes trained on him as though to make sure he didn't try to touch her again. "I'm a nice person," she told him. "People like me. But I don't think many people like you."
He stared after her. What, in God's name was wrong with him? He glanced around. At least no one had been close enough to overhear.
On a resigned breath, he turned, only to find he'd had an audience after all. Not ten feet away, dressed in his usual beat-up jeans and T-shirt, Michael stood at the mouth of the pathway leading to the mall. Of course he'd heard every foul word Simon had uttered, along with Nina's response.
Simon clenched his jaw, felt the muscles knot, then unknot. For a logical, even-tempered man, he'd given quite a performance, attacking a woman—his blue link—with brutal eloquence. He'd all but told her to auction off her virginity, an activity that would shut RUSH down in a heartbeat if such an exercise was ever conducted. Was it any wonder Michael stood there staring at him? If it wasn't for the fact that he felt so goddamned alive, he'd tell Michael his uber-genius program was a piece of shit.
"Go to hell, Vassek," he muttered instead. Then he turned on his heel and strode in the opposite direction.
* * *
Nina stood beside the wrought-iron gate, trembling and a little out of breath. She pressed a hand to her abdomen and felt the tight, knotted flesh. Had she ever been this tangled up with a jumble of emotions before? They were so powerful, they seemed to radiate from the center of her body and spread outward.
She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Simon hadn't followed. But he was nowhere to be seen so she took a few seconds to breathe deeply and calm down.
Threads of lighthearted laughter drifted through the air and she turned her head to follow the sound. Farther down the path she spotted the pretty blonde girl—Denny—and the handsome dark-haired man she'd seen her with earlier. Fingers entwined, the girl tugged in one direction while the man pulled in the other, drawing her progressively closer. His overall strength won out, of course. Then all laughter faded when he lifted his other hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, pausing to frame her jaw with his palm. The girl pressed a kiss to its center and the man stilled. Then he pulled her the rest of the way against his tall body, slid his arms around her, and touched his lips to her hair.
Nina looked away. The moment, however playful, had become private.
Placing her hand on the scanner, she slipped back inside the R-link complex. She'd bet her brand new sandals that Denny's link with the dark-haired man was higher than amber. Probably green. Maybe even blue. Which was pretty disheartening if the best she herself could hope for was someone like Simon Yetzer.
* * *
Avoiding a confrontation with Michael took Simon back through the entertainment sector and on a long circuitous route to the administrative building. The extra distance enabled him to walk off most of his frustration and by the time he turned off the main path, he felt more himself.
During regular business hours, Admin's double doors automatically slid open whenever the motion sensors detected someone approaching. After hours, however, only authorized personnel could gain entry. Simon pressed his palm to the scanner and the doors slid apart.
He didn't bother turning on lights. Shadowy morning sunshine filtered in through the front windows and lit the entire lobby with a soft glow.
He walked directly to the semi-circular reception counter, rounded it, and sat down on the chair normally occupied by Admin's new receptionist—Ethan's Denny Cooper. A few minutes later he located Amy Sturrow's phone number and programmed it into his cell. A few minutes after that, he had a better understanding of the medical procedure Nina had scheduled—the one that was now cancelled.
The unexpected vacation time had been well received and, as coincidence would have it, Dr. Sturrow had an aunt in Nebraska who passed away Friday morning. The funeral wasn't one she'd planned to attend, but no one needed to know that. And, of course, a sudden death in the family would cause her schedule to back up for, say, the next month. When Nina phoned Medical Services to reschedule, it would be weeks before Dr. Sturrow could work in a hymenscission.
Satisfied, Simon disconnected.
Near the far edge of the reception desk sat an odd-looking stuffed animal. It caught his eye and he stared at it for a minute. An aardvark. Ugly creature. Weren't stuffed animals supposed to be cute?
Pushing to his feet, he walked back around the counter, flipped the switch that lit the corridor leading to his office, and headed in that direction. The animal had probably been given to Denny as one of Ethan's skewed jokes.
In his office he withdrew the remote from his top desk drawer and opened the drapes. Then he slid the device back inside and went to stand in front of the glass.
Courtesy.
Common decency.
Each time he interacted with Nina, both those proprieties deserted him. He'd never treated a woman so abysmally in his life.
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks, he stood looking out at the courtyard for long minutes. He still hadn't explained their link. And once again, it was a good thing he hadn't. He'd given her so many reasons now to turn him down, she'd take one look at the blue icon and decline it out of hand. He couldn't fault her for it, either. How in God's name could he have told her to auction off her virginity? Had he lost his mind?
Removing both hands from his pockets, he reached for his cell. Crossing back over to his desk, he lowered himself onto the soft leather chair and scrolled through his contacts until he located her number at the R-link complex. Instead of making demands and throwing out accusations, he should have suggested coffee and a table by the fountain. With any other woman, that's exactly what he would have done. He would have explained what happened, then urged her to consider the potential of their incredibly high-ranking link.
Her phone rang four times, then went to voice mail.
"Nina . . . ."
He got no further. What could he say that would undo the damage he'd wrought? No single apology could cover the host of sins at his feet.
He disconnected an slid the phone onto his desk.
He sat for some time, replaying the scene in front of Threshold, hearing her words as she lashed out and told him to go away, that she could get a different link.
He reached for the phone again and dialed her number a second time. When it shifted to voicemail again he cleared his throat. "Nina, this is Simon . . . ." He hesitated. "Damn it."
He hit the End Call button once again and stared at the blank display.
"Simon?"
He looked up, surprised to see Ethan.
"How did things go with Nina Millering?"
He hesitated. "Rocky start," he allowed. But he didn't want to talk about the debacle he'd made of things. "Did that ugly toy out on the reception desk come from you?"
"Sure did." He gave a smug, I-scored-some-points-with-that-one grin. "Brought tears to her eyes when she saw it."
Simon snorted. "I'm not surprised. Flowers might have gone over better."
"Nope. Her file said—"
"Hi, Simon." The receptionist peeked around the doorframe and Ethan slid an easy arm around her, making a place for her at his side.
Simon caught a glimpse of the ugly aardvark.
"Did you get it?" she asked, looking up at Ethan.
"Got it."
"Me, too." She held up the stuffed animal and Simon wondered what had been in her file that motivated Ethan to buy the thing. Sure enough, though, the smile in her eyes was warm and intimate. Did that mean she had a soft spot for ugly animals? South African animals? Whatever the answer, Simon saw enough to know he'd be skimming back over Nina's file. If he remembered correctly, she was an artist. He had no idea how skilled she was, but at this point, he didn't care if stick figures were the best she could produce.
CHAPTER 12
Nina pressed her thumb on the miniature scanner and opened the door to her apartment. She walked directly to the desk, picked up the laptop in its box, and set about opening it. Placing it in the center of the desk, she then started on the printer. She should have done this last night, or before going out this morning.