Make Mine a Marine

by Julie Miller

  “I'm okay, Em.”

  In reality, BJ's sleep had been fitful. She thrashed under the covers, mumbling incoherent words. Brodie stayed with her until close to dawn, when utter fatigue finally pulled her into deeper, dreamless sleep.

  “Emma's right,” he heard himself add. “Take a break and relax.”

  BJ glared at him with obstinate eyes. “I have to double-check the program to make sure tonight's demonstration goes off without a hitch.”

  “You've checked it once already,” argued Emma. “Besides, you'll be inundated with questions afterward. You won't get a chance to rest again until really late.”

  BJ bristled defensively, ready to take on Emma, Brodie, and anybody else who tried to tell her what to do. But a yawn betrayed her. “All right,” she conceded. “But fifteen minutes, that's all. I'll be lying down in my office.”

  With a harumph of resignation, she twirled around and went up the stairs. He watched her until the creamy shoulder exposed by the draped neckline of her peasant blouse winked out of sight.

  Brodie felt a hand on his arm.

  “What happened last night?” Emma challenged him, as though she thought him responsible for BJ's fatigue. Jonathan had often mentioned his wife's soft-spoken ways, which hid a backbone of steel and motherly preservation where her loved ones were concerned. Were all the LadyTech women this stubborn?

  Brodie wondered how much of BJ's past Emma knew. Having a third party to bounce ideas off sounded like a good idea, but he didn't want to divulge any of BJ's confidences.

  “She had another episode,” he said simply.

  Emma's smoky blue eyes flashed with anxiety. “Was she hurt? Did you find out anything?”

  He found out she was built the way a woman ought to be, curved and healthy, not pencil slim. He found out she could melt him into putty when her honey, husky voice lowered in a bewitching tone of arousal. He found out that grilling her with questions triggered abusive childhood memories for her.

  He found out that the darkest moment of his life held some connection to BJ, that a scar burned into him ages ago had meaning to her, even though her conscious mind denied the connection.

  I couldn't have been in my right mind to throw myself all over you like that.

  Not in her right mind. BJ meant the words as an apology, but Brodie knew they were true. He had foolishly wanted her to want him, to the extent that he had abandoned all reason and common sense and practically forced her.

  Not until he had seen the glazed look in her eyes did he realize the scope of the evil force manipulating her. He had been out of his mind with need for her, and she had no clue to the passion ignited between them. Even afterward, she had responded to him with the tender shyness of a first kiss. She recalled the essence of what happened, but concrete memories eluded her.

  “No, I didn't find out anything useful,” he said. “Only that she's in a lot of trouble. And that I'm not sure I can help her.”

  “You're not giving up, are you?”

  How could he? In twenty-four little hours, BJ Kincaid had become an integral part of his life. How could he leave without knowing she'd be safe?

  “No. But this case may be a little more complicated than I originally thought.”

  “You won't leave her until she's okay, right?” Emma prodded him again.

  Ages ago, he had taken an oath to fight the injustices of the world, and to protect the innocents harmed by those injustices. Like BJ. Even if he could control his emotional response to her, he could never quit until he eradicated the evil thing attacking her mind. His conscience wouldn't let him.

  “I won't leave.”

  With each promise to protect her, he came closer and closer to sealing BJ's fate. He might be able to save her.

  But he could just as easily destroy her.

  “Damn it, Rick, I'm not in charge of personnel. I can't make you any promises like that.”

  Rick Chambers had knocked on BJ's office door within seconds after her eyes closed. She found no respite from the ache digging in at the base of her skull. And Rick's argument was getting old.

  “I deserve that promotion. Nobody has worked harder to get the Tokyo office up and running.”

  “I know. You put in a lot of hours on the project, and I made a recommendation. But Emma has to review all the candidates and bring her final choices to the board for a vote.”

  Rick's handsome, toothy smile held no charm for her. “Then I'm one of the finalists, right?”

  “I don't know.” BJ returned his smile with as much sincerity as she could muster before dropping down to her hands and knees to retrieve her sandals from beneath the desk. “Look, can we discuss this tomorrow? I want to do a final check before we run the program tonight. I'd hate for a glitch to show up with all those people watching.”

  “I set it up myself. It's running fine. If you kept regular office hours, we wouldn't be having this conversation now.”

  BJ rolled over onto her bottom and put on her shoes. “I recommended you, Rick. That's all I can tell you.” Hell, she'd give him the job right now if he'd just leave her alone.

  By the time she had the second shoe on and had adjusted her Aztec print skirt, Rick stood over her, holding out his hand. BJ took it, expecting to be helped to her feet.

  Instead, he pulled her right against his chest and pinned her there with his hand at the back of her waist. Strong cologne assaulted her nostrils, sharpening the sting of her headache.

  “There are only three of you on that board. Isn't there anything I can do to persuade you? We've worked so well together for over two years now.”

  He brushed his fingers over her shoulder. It could be her headache that made BJ feel nauseated, she wasn't sure. The arm around her waist wouldn't budge, so she used sarcasm as a weapon.

  “Two whole years and you're just now making a pass at me? I didn't think you were the shy type.”

  She felt his temper vibrate through him. Then he pushed her back against the desk, trapping her with his body. “You three are raking in big bucks. I deserve a piece of it.”

  “Stop it, Rick.” His implied threat made BJ fighting mad. “I can't just give you the Tokyo job, but I can fire you.”

  She tried to twist free, but Rick grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back at a sharp angle. Myriad tendrils of pain shot through her scalp. “I could be as big as you, Beeeej.” The way he slurred her name made BJ's skin crawl. “My ideas are as good as yours.”

  His hot breath washed over her face, “I deserve—”

  BJ felt a jerk, and then Rick went flying. He landed in a heap beside the door.

  “Back off.”

  The low warning echoed in the room and the immovable presence of Brodie Maxwell positioned himself between her and Rick.

  “Are you all right?” Although he uttered the question gently, BJ saw such fury in Brodie's eyes when he looked over his shoulder that she herself retreated a step.

  “I'm fine.”

  “I'm not!” Rick's voice raised to a whining pitch. He scrambled to his feet and pointed an accusing finger at Brodie. “I'm going to sue you for assault.”

  “The lady is the one who can press charges.”

  Rick advanced on Brodie like a puppy dog challenging a grizzly bear. Brodie didn't move. Rick wisely halted. “I don't know why you hired this thug, Beej, but he's got no business interfering in our private conversation.”

  “Our conversation was over when you came in! You threatened me!” When she would have moved past Brodie, his hand on her elbow stopped her. He made sure she stayed out of Rick's reach.

  “Did I?” Rick relaxed unexpectedly, smiling in a way that made BJ's stomach turn over. “I made a pass at you and you weren't interested. It's not against the law for a man to try.”

  He smoothed the wrinkles from his polo shirt and tucked in a few strands of his long hair while BJ replayed the conversation in her head. Rick was right. His only threat had been implied. Bad manners and raunchy cologne didn't p
rove he intended her any harm.

  “You're smarter than I gave you credit for, Rick.”

  “Remember that when you vote for the new chief.” He backed toward the open door. “I'll see you tomorrow at work.”

  Brodie released her and took a single step toward Rick. Rick nearly fell over, trying to hurry his exit. “You touch her again before this investigation is finished, Chambers, and I'll throw you out of here by your ponytail.”

  “Brodie, that's not necessary.”

  “It's all right.” Rick oozed conceit once again. “We all know Emma hired him to help with your …” he paused to squeeze sympathy into his voice, “…memory lapses. I'm willing to help in whatever way I can. You can count on my full cooperation.”

  After Rick closed the door behind him, BJ muttered, “In a pig's eye.”

  “What was that all about?” Brodie asked.

  “I'm not sure. Rick can be rude and hot tempered, but he's never behaved like that before. Of course, he's got a lot at stake with that promotion. There's no other position he can advance to here at headquarters.”

  “Then he's never threatened you like that before?”

  “No.”

  The protective rage that filled the room softened a little. Brodie had just been doing his job. But BJ felt as cherished and championed as any lady whose knight had just ridden in on a white horse to save her. Rick's unsuspected violence angered her, but what made the whole scene truly frightening was how out of control she felt. She was once more the victim, not the director, of her own destiny.

  All day long she’d put off Brodie's attempts to discuss the night before. She knew she must have done something awful to find herself bare breasted and panting on top of him. But despite her humiliation, Brodie had done nothing but treat her with gentleness and respect. He kissed away her fear and confusion, and tucked her into bed. Her sixth sense told her that he had even stayed in the room with her until she found restful sleep.

  Her first impression of Frankenstein's monster altered into another fairy tale. One where a man of true kindness and caring spirit had been enchanted with a hideous appearance to punish him for a crime. BJ couldn't imagine what crime her gentle giant could have committed.

  Her giant? Where did that possessive, protective feeling come from? Brodie could definitely take care of himself, and he had made it very clear by his words and actions that he wasn't interested in belonging to anyone.

  “You're not all right.” Brodie pushed aside some books and sat on the edge of her desk, bringing his body several inches closer to her size. He pulled her hand into his and brushed his thumb lightly across her knuckles.

  It was hard to push aside her new feelings when he made it so easy to give in to his strength and caring.

  “You look a little peaked.” The archaic expression rumbled in his deep, soothing voice added to the old-fashioned charm and chivalry that BJ found so endearing.

  “I'm okay,” she whispered, feeling his comfort and warmth slipping around her, chasing away the stress of the unpleasant encounter with Rick. “I just can't shake this headache.”

  “Do you want me to take you home?”

  “I can't leave. There are too many people downstairs waiting to see my latest creation.”

  “You don't owe them anything.”

  BJ reached for the right side of his jaw. She cupped her fingers gently there when he didn't pull away. “I can't run and hide, either. Besides, you'll be there with me, right?”

  His eyes darkened to a turbulent storm cloud color before a shade was drawn and they reverted back to icy, emotionless gray. “I'll be there.”

  Despite his promise, BJ could feel him withdrawing, shutting the doors to his inner self. Respectfully, she pulled her hands away, allowing him that distance.

  Brodie was the one to press her hand reassuringly before they separated entirely. “Let's go.”

  BJ preceded Brodie into the hallway, bolstered by his encouragement. A third figure came around the corner and BJ immediately slowed down, expecting Rick had returned.

  But when she recognized the tall, distinguished man walking toward her, her anxiety vanished and she ran, smiling, into the welcoming arms of Damon Morrisey.

  “Damon!”

  Damon's sixty years were evident only in the distinguished silver of his hair and the crow's feet crinkling beside his dark brown eyes. He was a vital, intelligent man, with a wicked sense of humor and an affinity for giving bear hugs, which BJ loved.

  “Bridget,” he smiled down at her, separating himself a little but keeping her in his arms, “I'm sorry to be so late. That last meeting ran on forever. I haven't missed the debut, have I?”

  “Not at all. I'm on my way to start the demonstration now.”

  BJ didn't know how she could feel any more secure than she did at that moment. The man she loved like a father held her under the crook of one arm, and the man who was becoming her spiritual as well as physical protector stood beside her.

  “I want to introduce you to Brodie Maxwell.” BJ tilted her head up toward Brodie, who stood in the middle of the hallway with his feet braced out in a vee and his massive hands balled into fists. A vein pulsed beneath the scar on his left cheek while his eyes bored icy daggers at Damon. Brodie looked the very image of the beefy guard defending the gates of the castle.

  Where was the danger? BJ wondered. Then she realized Brodie would be suspicious of everyone, and that without finishing the introduction, he had no way of knowing that Damon presented no harm to her.

  She touched his arm, willing the mistrust out of his expression. Brodie's gaze dropped briefly to where she touched him, then refocused, just as unflinchingly, on Damon.

  “This is Damon Morrisey, my mentor and good friend. It's all right.”

  Getting no help from Brodie, BJ turned and smiled an apology at Damon. Damon didn't disappoint her. Releasing BJ, he stepped forward. “Mr. Maxwell.”

  For a moment, BJ didn't think Brodie would accept the proffered hand. But then he relaxed his stance a bit and returned the handshake. “Morrisey.”

  Damon folded his arms together and rubbed his hand thoughtfully across his jaw. “Do I know you?”

  Brodie answered without inflection. “You'd remember me if we'd met.”

  “I'm sure I would.” Unlike Rick, Damon seemed curious about, but not intimidated by Brodie. BJ hadn't considered the possibility of the two men not getting along. Without conscious thought, she had imagined the three of them forming a team to track down LadyTech's pirate and stop whoever was playing games with her. Brodie's reaction to Damon concerned her, but this was obviously not the place to discuss it.

  “Let's get this show on the road.” BJ forced the lightness into her voice, hoping to prod Brodie into a friendlier mood.

  No such luck.

  With a grim, self-contained look in his eyes, Brodie excused himself. “You go ahead. I need to check a few things.”

  BJ questioned him silently, but he offered no answers.

  Damon proved to be a more willing escort. He bent his elbow and winked at her. “Shall we?”

  BJ tucked her hand through his arm. “By all means.”

  It didn't feel right to leave Brodie standing alone in the hallway behind her. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, and maybe offer him some of the comfort he had in abundant supply for her. She suspected he hated tonight's party, but endured it for her sake. Brodie gave and gave to her, accepting very little in return. She wondered what a man like him did for fun. She wondered if fun was even part of his vocabulary. She had yet even to see him smile.

  A round of applause when they entered the warehouse startled her out of her theorizing. Damon dropped a chaste kiss at her temple and whispered in her ear. “My young protégée is a hit.”

  “I'm not that young, Damon.”

  “Please. Twenty-seven years old and a multimillionaire, with the respect and envy of her peers? Go. Take your place in the spotlight.”

  Damon gave her a gentle shove
. The crowd of guests parted to give her a path to the stage where Jas and Emma stood. “And here is the third member of the triumvirate that makes up LadyTech. I can see I don't need to introduce BJ to you.”

  Jas continued with her speech about the new office opening in Tokyo, and plans to open a third network in Europe. “Most of you are familiar with the internet language for computers that BJ designed. That will still be the main focus at LadyTech. But tonight, BJ has prepared something just for fun. A sample of the games line we hope to launch in the near future. If I could direct your attention to the big screen behind me, I invite you to the premiere of 'Legends.'“

  The lights dimmed and the audience quieted.

  A familiar song BJ had composed on the keyboard jingled out of the speakers as pictures of superheroic androids introduced themselves on-screen. Mentally, BJ reviewed each command and waited for the resulting action in the program.

  Slowly, the game unfolded. The androids played a battle of wits and strength against a master computer bent on destroying their home world. But as the game entered its second level, a sick feeling chilled BJ. This wasn't her game. Familiar images appeared, but she noticed subtle changes in the design. The androids looked more like monsters. The factual questions were worded like riddles. Lights blinked, and a graphic of a thunderstorm washed the androids off the screen, racking up thousands of points for the computer.

  She hugged her arms tightly around herself, turning her knuckles white. Did the others see the same program she did? Or had she fallen into some demented dream? This was definitely her program, yet it wasn't the right program.

  Her stomach heaved and the room spun. This was the game she had rewritten last night, killing time while Brodie wandered outside in the storm.

  This was the last thing she remembered before coming to in Brodie's arms.

  Panic overwhelmed her. Desperately she turned away from the screen, searching the darkness for the man who stood head and shoulders above the other guests. Too many shadows kept her from seeing if he was there.

  She saw Damon, smiling at her and giving a thumbs-up sign. Quickly, she turned her attention back to the screen.