Command

by Sierra Cartwright

  At a loss, he told the computer to save his work before lowering a screen over the large sheet of glass he’d been using for his mathematical equations.

  Then he wandered around his workshop, running his fingers over circuit boards, an ancient computer, screwdrivers, wires, precious metals, glass made from sapphires, from diamonds, all the things that made his heart beat.

  What now?

  Julien might have a point, Grant realized. He wasn’t fit for human company. Truthfully he hadn’t interacted with many people in the past few years, not since he’d moved—escaped—to New Mexico. He didn’t have a group of friends and the only people he saw regularly were those at his favorite restaurant, the grocery store clerks and his housekeeper. Each Tuesday, Daniella swept in like a mini tornado, cleaning, doing laundry, clucking over his lack of companionship, singing as she prepared a few dishes, stocking the kitchen with fresh produce and talking incessantly.

  He realized now that he often went for days without talking to another person.

  And Julien had decided to change that.

  Fuck. How long was Aria staying? At some point, Julien’s words had all blurred together, and Grant hadn’t heard any of them.

  He strode to the console in the corner, pushed the buttons to reconnect with Julien.

  The man’s voice reverberated through the room. “The genius is offline. If you’ve reached this message, you should be too. Unless this is the President of the United States, call back tomorrow. If it is the President of the United States, I would have already been expecting your call so you wouldn’t have reached this message. So whoever you are, go the fuck to sleep.” His voice was replaced by soothing music. A lullaby?

  Good God.

  Grant checked his smart watch. It was too late to call Daniella, but he could text her and ask her to make up the guest room first thing in the morning. Or… “Molly,” he said to the home’s computer, “remind me to send a message to Daniella to make up the guest room.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  “I’m going to reprogram you if you keep calling me that.”

  “You always say that, but you never touch my buttons. And I gave up on the knobs months ago.”

  “Has Julien been in the system again?”

  “Genius is as genius does.”

  He shook his head to clear the gathering headache. Then he thought about food. He’d have to consider someone other than himself. No doubt she’d want to eat at regular intervals whereas he ate as, and if, the mood struck.

  Irritation made his blood pressure rise.

  What the hell did he know about having company?

  That thought was less important than the next one. How quickly can I get rid of her?

  Knowing he needed to release tension, he placed his palm against the metal hand plate. The door slid open, and he touched the plate on the outside to close it again.

  “I’m done for the day,” he informed the computer.

  “It’s night,” Molly corrected.

  “So I’ve been told. Power save mode.” Meaning the air conditioning would keep the area at a precise temperature and humidity, and that computers and other electronics would go on standby.

  Grant crouched to look at the dog sleeping peacefully beneath a window. They’d been partners for six months. He supposed that, at some point, he should give the pooch a name.

  He walked down the hallway. Exercise was Grant’s medication, and often, swimming provided the juice to ignite his creativity and help him find his Zen space.

  He opened the door to the workout area and instructed Molly to give him forty percent lighting. “Make that thirty,” he amended. It was a trick, to make his body think he should actually go to sleep. At the very least, he hoped it would help him shove aside the thoughts worming through his brain.

  After grabbing a towel, he walked past the free weights and cardio equipment into the pool area. As always, the sight of the vast New Mexico night sky soothed in a way that nothing else could.

  He stripped before diving into the invigorating coolness and cutting through the water. Generally he lost track of reality and swam past exhaustion into a feeling of peace.

  But tonight none of his tricks worked.

  The impending arrival of an unwanted houseguest and the knowledge he had been removed from his favorite project unraveled him.

  Grant pulled himself from the pool and headed for the hot tub. “Give me bubbles, Molly,” he instructed, too lazy to work the control himself.

  This time, she did as he’d said without comment.

  As heat seeped into him, his muscles began to relax. He realized that exhaustion was crawling through him, from the inside out.

  He refused to admit that he might be stuck, that spending this much time away from other people might not keep him at his sharpest. He’d never intended the move to the Los Alamos area to be permanent, but at the time, getting away had seemed like the only solution. The longer he’d stayed, the less inclined he’d been to return to the city lights, noises, stimulations.

  Grant still didn’t want to concede Julien’s point, even when he went to bed and slept for five blissfully uninterrupted hours for the first time in months.

  * * * *

  When Grant had closed his eyes, stars had been winking on an inky sky. Now, muted orange and pinks blended together.

  For a minute he simply stared, seeing it as if for the first time.

  Part of the appeal of this area was for the wide-open spaces and sky that seemed to go on forever. Absently he wondered when he’d stopped seeing them.

  His good mood lasted through his tall, cold glass of filtered water. Then he remembered he had to pick up his unexpected guest from the airport.

  Christ. What time had Julien said he needed to be there?

  He grabbed his cell phone. His calendar had been updated by Julien. Surprise. And the man had added a personal note— Be nice to Aria.

  The words were a mandate, Grant knew—one that wasn’t going to be easy to follow.

  Or so he’d thought.

  He arrived at the airport in time to see the Tornado land in all its glory.

  The door opened, the airstairs deployed then Aria stepped from the plane.

  All of Grant’s expectations fractured, as if they were icicles that slammed onto the concrete.

  When he’d thought of her as a runaway bride who didn’t like the cold, he’d mentally prepared himself for someone nervous-looking, maybe huddled in a parka, curled up into herself.

  Instead…

  Instead, this woman had her shoulders back and held her spine regally straight. And she looked down at him as if she owned the planet.

  Wind whipped her brunette hair around her face. She wore a tight-fitting black jacket, an indecently short skirt, tights, and spiked-heel boots that went up and up until they disappeared under her hem.

  She was temptation and sin wrapped in a tall, fuckable package.

  Every male instinct in him flared, and Grant almost tripped over his own libido.

  Chapter Two

  Aria paused at the top of the airstairs. The man leaning against the side of a nearby SUV stunned her. Grant Kingston.

  A supple brown leather bomber jacket snuggled his upper body. His jeans were a slightly faded shade of blue, and he wore motorcycle boots. The wind tossed a dark blond lock of hair over his forehead.

  As he pushed away from the vehicle and strode toward the plane, he pulled off his sunglasses and placed them on top of his head.

  His approach was purposeful.

  She adjusted the duffel bag on her shoulder and tightened her grip on her briefcase before descending to the tarmac. She told herself her legs were bit wobbly from sitting next to Svetlana and seeing, up close, how challenging the landing was with the airport’s infamous crosswinds. But the truth was, the idea of being in intimate proximity with a man this good-looking for any length of time unnerved her.

  After she’d returned home last night, she’d spent
an hour online looking up stories about him. For someone who was such a prominent part of the Bonds conglomerate, there were surprisingly few.

  He’d received requisite mentions in the business and tech sections, but she saw the same photographs many times, which likely meant the news sources all used the same stock photos.

  She’d scoured social media. It didn’t appear that he had his own accounts, but she saw a handful of snapshots on Julien’s pages. There’d been one at his friend Reece’s wedding. Grant had been standing with the groom, Julien and Kennedy Aldrich.

  There’d also been an older shot at Julien’s birthday party, and the four friends were sporting neon-colored athletic shoes. None of the shots had been a close-up.

  On the flight over, Aria had been nosy, asking Svetlana about Grant. The other woman had mysteriously said that he could be intense and liked to be in charge. Intrigued, Aria had pressed for more. Svetlana had said it would take a very special woman to be everything Grant needed. She’d hinted that the two of them had been a bit more than friends, but there had never been anything serious between them.

  When Aria had pressed for more information, Svetlana had given one of her famous half-smiles and wished Aria luck finding out for herself. Purposefully, Svetlana had checked the altimeter then changed the subject to talk about her continuing trip to New York to meet with her future husband.

  The conversation had left Aria frustrated. The more she’d tried to find out about Grant, the more he seemed like an enigma.

  Nothing she’d seen or heard had prepared her for seeing him in person. A shiver ran through her. His features had an old-world ruggedness and his shoulders were impossibly wide. He was more masculine than she’d imagined, more commanding.

  “Welcome to New Mexico.” His voice was deep, friendly, reassuring, making her insides turn somersaults.

  Her immediate, consuming attraction to him surprised her. “Grant Kingston, I presume?”

  “At your service.”

  Even around successful, handsome men, Aria had always been completely confident. Until today. “I didn’t expect you to come yourself.”

  “I’m the only Bonds employee in Los Alamos. You know Julien wouldn’t have allowed me to send anyone else. And after everything Julien said about you, I was anxious to meet you. And I’m glad I came.” He smiled.

  The full power of its seducing effect smacked her. A feminine part of her melted in instinctive recognition. The sensation was as unusual as it was unwelcome.

  “I’ve heard a few things about you, too.” And it had made last night’s sleep more than a little restless. If her guess was right, she wouldn’t rest any easier tonight.

  He extended his hand.

  She slid her palm against his and found his hand big, his touch warm, reassuring. Nothing could have prepared her for the impact he’d had on her.

  Grant held her hand a bit longer than socially acceptable. Maybe it was because of what Julien and Svetlana had said, but she was very much aware of Grant’s strength and power. Aria’s heart thudded, and she pulled back her palm so she wouldn’t be tempted to stay forever.

  He was smiling, but she thought there might be something slightly predatory beneath the welcome.

  Aria lowered her sunglasses.

  Since they stood so close, she noticed how deep and blue his eyes were, reminding her of an arctic lake. And damn, he smelled good. She inhaled the scent of his leather jacket, certainly, but there was more. Musk was layered in, along with the crisp rawness of the outdoors.

  Mostly, he radiated power and confidence. To make things clear to both of them, she added, “Thanks for having me. I can’t imagine you’re happy about having an unwanted houseguest.”

  “Turns out I might not mind it as much as I thought I might.”

  Each word had been dragged across sandpaper. For a moment, just a wicked moment, she imagined him whispering her name as he unfastened her shirt.

  Aria shook her head to clear it. No doubt she was attracted to him, and he’d made it clear it was mutual, but that didn’t mean anything. She was a professional businesswoman, and she had never slept with anyone she’d worked with. She wouldn’t allow Grant Kingston to be the first…even if she had to constantly remind herself of that fact. “I’m good at taking care of myself, so you won’t need to go out of your way to entertain me. I’ll be a good houseguest.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  An airport employee removed Aria’s one big suitcase from the jet and hauled it toward the SUV.

  “Can I help you with your briefcase or the other bag?” Grant asked.

  “Actually, the duffel is for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Svetlana asked me to give it to you. She said it’s a gift from Julien.”

  “In that case, I’ll definitely take it. God only knows what’s in it.”

  “Oh? You’ve made me curious.”

  “I’ll guarantee it would scare the boots right off your feet.”

  “Now I’ve got to see.”

  “No doubt whips, chains, handcuffs.”

  “You’re not serious.” She looked at him, unsure whether or not he was joking. And if he wasn’t, what then? “Handcuffs?”

  “Do you always rush into danger?”

  Her pulse missed a beat. “Is that what I’m doing?”

  “Yeah. Consider yourself warned.”

  Was that a statement or a dare? She shivered, and not from the cold, but rather from the anticipation his words sent through her.

  He took the bag.

  Svetlana headed down the stairs, preventing further conversation.

  Despite the watery sunlight, there was no mistaking the wink of the diamond on her left hand or the way Grant looked at it.

  Realizing they’d probably appreciate a minute alone, Aria said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll make sure my suitcase gets loaded properly.”

  “Give me a minute and I’ll do it for you,” Grant replied.

  “I’ve got it.”

  “I promise to return the moment the genius gives his approval,” Svetlana said to Aria.

  Aria glanced at the frozen tundra. “Keep the plane fueled up because I want to get back into my sandals.” After another quick thank you to Svetlana, Aria met the airport employee at the car.

  The man slid the suitcase in the back of the SUV, and she kept her briefcase with her.

  Since Grant had thoughtfully left the engine running, she cranked up the vehicle’s heater. Then she grabbed her purse from the briefcase, pulled out her phone and sent a text message to her parents to let them know she’d arrived safely.

  As warmth gusted from the vents, she checked the GPS to get her bearings. No matter how often she traveled, she still got disoriented in an unfamiliar city.

  She glanced up in time to see Grant give Svetlana a quick salute before turning and walking toward the vehicle. Svetlana jogged back up the airstairs, obviously anxious to be on her way to her fiancé.

  Even before Grant had stowed his duffel on the backseat, the airplane’s main entry door had been closed.

  “Comfortable?” he asked as he slid behind the wheel.

  “I turned up the heat.”

  “I may have to start taking off clothes.”

  That wouldn’t be all bad.

  He fingered a button next to her. “Seat warmer,” he explained before checking the surroundings and heading toward the exit. He stopped in front of the security gate and waited for it to slide open.

  Within a few seconds, they had turned from Airport Road onto East Road. Everywhere she looked, they were surrounded by mountains, plateaus and a seemingly endless covering of white. The sky, though, sizzled with brightness.

  “It’s called the Land of Enchantment,” he said, with obvious pride.

  “I’m not sure why with the cold and snow and gloom. I’m not sure I can even breathe. Just walking to the car left me gasping for air.” At least that was her excuse.

  “We’re a little more than s
even thousand feet above sea level,” he agreed.

  “Almost a mile and a half?”

  “You’ll acclimate.”

  She put her head back, but there was no part of her body that was relaxed.

  “Roads aren’t that icy.”

  “I’m not concerned about that,” she admitted. But that’s as far as she’d take that conversation. “Are we making any stops before we go to your cave?”

  “Cave?”

  “Ah…”

  He waited.

  “That wasn’t nice.” Aria squirmed a little. “I’ve been told it’s a very nice cave.”

  “It’s not bad. Quite livable, in fact.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  He slid her a sideways glance. “I’m wondering what other preconceived notions you have.”

  She could change the subject, she knew. Make it about business, talk about the weather—or she could find out a thing or two about him. “I thought you’d be a nerd.”

  “A nerd?” His response was perfect, light, non-confrontational. Friendly. “Does anyone really use that word anymore?”

  “Okay. How about geek?”

  “You’re not apologizing very well.”

  “I’m not, am I?” She sighed. “Actually, I wasn’t even trying.”

  “In addition to living dangerously, you say what you’re thinking.”

  “I meant that you’re not what I expected.”

  “So I’m not a geek?”

  She finger-combed a few stray wisps of hair back from her face. “You probably are. But only in the best sense of the word.”

  “Now I’m really interested.”

  “Oh Lord. I mean brainiac.” She unzipped her coat a little, and not just because the seat wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it? It means you’re brilliant. Inquisitive.”

  “Which makes you astute.”

  Unable to help herself, she grinned at him.

  “And you’re right. I thought we should eat and pick up whatever necessities you need from the grocery store before we head home.”

  Home sounded far too intimate. “It’s not too late for me to get a rental car and hotel.” The town had a handful, she knew, and a couple were more than suitable for a long-term visit.