His Virtual Bride Page 4

  A lucky duck, he amended. A completely blank pay line was worth more than any other combination of symbols. Eyes wide, Keely grinned up at him.

  "You'd win more if you played more credits at a time." He smiled back.

  "I can play longer." She sounded calm, but he could see her hands shake as she scooped coins into a plasfoam bucket. The machine beeped and she tugged out a ticket with the balance of her winnings printed on it. "Wow! Now I can afford to get my own room."

  "Nope." He scanned the casino for the hundredth time, but still couldn't see any sign of Le Roi. Or any other Marsian he might pump for information. The risk in that gambit lay in exposing Le Roi's being alive. Ki--Paris' rule depended upon her great-uncle staying dead --in the eyes of the rest of the galaxy anyway.

  "What do you mean? Nope? You don't have any say about where I sleep. I could bunk on the beach or aboard the No-Name. For that matter--"

  "There's not another room available on Saturnalia. And with that many credits in your possession, you won't risk sleeping on the beach. Even a high-class place like this has thieves. As for the No-Name…the casino controls all travel on and off Saturnalia. They won't let us go until you put back most if not all of your winnings."

  Jutting her chin, Keely stalked away, the swish of her hips making her short tunic's hem flutter around her thighs. "I can get them to escort us off."

  "Oh yeah? How?"

  "I can break the bank."

  For some reason--maybe the acid burning in his belly--he believed she could. Catching her arm, he swung her to face him. "Let's save that tactic for if we need it." Heeding her glare, he released her arm, adding, "I'll sleep on the couch."

  She snorted, but looped her arm through his, forcing him to shorten his stride. "I don't know why Paris thinks Le Roi would come here."

  "Besides liking to gamble, he enjoys luxury. Saturnalia is the perfect place to indulge himself." For all he knew, Le Roi could've gotten here aboard The Honey.

  "But he's…green," Keely said as if Geoff needed the reminder.

  "There are ways to look different," he retorted, immediately wishing he hadn't.

  "Like you did when you looked like Paris?"

  "Something like that. Drop it, Shrimp. I'm not gonna tell you."

  "We'll see."

  He grinned at the hint of certainty in her voice.

  "Pretty," she sighed as they stepped outside and looked up at the starry sky. "Is that blue and white marble your Earth?"

  "That's my home world," he corrected, bemused by Keely's phrasing. He'd noticed her tendency to attribute ownership of objects--to everyone but herself. "Saturnalia's founders have tweaked its dome so it functions like a super high–powered telescope."

  "Hmmm. Earth looks like the perfect shooter. You know…that fat marble you fire at the others until you collect them all. Then you go home and play with yourself."

  Geoff vaguely recalled reading about marbles. He knew he'd never played the game. When her last statement sank in he choked out "I think you mean play by yourself."

  "That's what I said."

  "Not quite," he muttered, not wanting to spoil the evening by parsing words. When a horse–drawn carriage stopped at the foot of the stairs, Geoff offered his arm. "It's a perfect night for drive through the grounds."

  "I'm not too tired to walk."

  "You've been standing on stilts for hours." She glanced down at her open–toed stiletto heeled shoes. "By now my feet would be screaming for relief. Besides, that bucket of credits must weigh more than you do."

  "I'm not letting you carry it."

  Suspecting she thought he'd stuff her winnings into nonexistent pockets, he patted his hips and thighs.

  "But you're right. My feet do hurt."

  "No problem." He swept her into his arms. The jingling credits almost covered her wind-chimes laugh. Her warmth released the scent of lilacs into the air. He had no idea how he knew the aroma, but he recognized it. And his olfactory senses liked it. A lot. He wondered if she smelled like that all over. Deciding he'd find out once they reached the bungalow, he stepped into the carriage and sat with her still in his arms. Surprising him, she rested her head on his shoulder and wiggled her bottom.

  As he inhaled deeply, he shifted her to one side. "You smell good."

  "So do you."

  "You look…" She looked up, her eyes sleepy in the Saturnian-made moonlight. "Lovely."

  "Amazingly, I feel lovely. I don't remember ever wearing a dress. Like this one," she added as if she'd revealed something she didn't want him to know. Attempting to pull the short skirt over her knees, she slid off his body. And landed between his legs, her round buttocks pressing firmly against his swelling cock.

  "Hold still, Keely, or I won't be responsible for what happens next."

  Owl-eyed, she blinked up at him. "Oh." Her voice came out a breathy sigh. Her tongue flicked over her ripe lips and her lashes drifted to half–mast.

  Smothering a groan, Geoff moved her to his side. Concerned that she might feel rejected, he looped his left arm around her shoulders and snuggled her close. For several long moments all he could hear was the horse's clopping hooves echoing the steady, slightly rapid beat of his heart. And the voice shouting in his mind, Idiot. She wanted you to kiss her. Too late now, moron.

  "We have all night," he said aloud.

  Keely slanted him a you wish look as she snuggled even closer. "Geoff? What's a Jove-blasted hermaphrodite?"

  When he didn't answer, she pulled back. "You're blushing."

  "You heard," he grumbled.

  "You shouted," she countered, thrusting out her chin like a kid spoiling for a fight.

  "Guess I did."

  "I was nowhere near the bathroom door. Not that it matters where I was. You shouted at…someone. Who?"

  "I guess you'd call Frodie a who. He is the male half of a hermaphrodite named…"

  "Herma-Frodie," Keely interrupted, her entire face beaming at Geoff.

  "H-how did you--"

  "Herma helped me figure out how to use the shower." She waved dismissively. "But she thought Frodie was still on the earth."

  "Not entirely," Geoff muttered. "I'll explain when we get inside." He shifted his gaze pointedly, drawing Keely's attention to their driver's cocked ears. "In the meantime…" He tilted her chin. "I'm going to kiss you, Keely."

  "Are not," she retorted without moving to escape his embrace.

  Grinning, he matched his lips with hers. A light brush, returning to linger before he eased away. Her deep sigh parted her lips, inviting him to kiss her fully. To taste the strawberries and chocolate she'd eaten for dessert. To inhale those tempting aromas along with the scent of lilacs on her skin. Her fingers tiptoed up his chest and then curved into his hair. Inviting, demanding he kiss her deeply, drink her sweetness. Mating his tongue with hers, he slid his hands into her red–gold locks. Like living flesh, they curled around his fingers. Cool satin contrasted with her scalp's warm silk.

  An impatient cough made them ease apart. They'd arrived at their bungalow.

  As he stood, Keely retrieved her winnings. Stepping out of the carriage, he held out his hand, oddly touched by the brief, shy smile she gave him. She turned back to press a fistful of credits into the driver's hand. His wide smile showed his double set of razor-sharp teeth. Geoff expected Keely might faint and enclosed her elbow in his hand. Neither blushing nor blanching, she thanked the driver in perfect Saturnian as she stepped to the ground. Her smile at Geoff looked apologetic. His hopes for hours of wild sex made his half erect cock go limp.

  And the night just gets better and better, Geoff thought, watching the bungalow door open and light spill over the sandy path to the porch. Herma's slender form was almost obscured by Frodie's looming shadow. The male half of the now rejoined couple reminded Geoff of Lurch rather than Heathcliff. Maybe it was Frodie's all black tuxedo and shirt that made Geoff's shoulder muscles stiffen and his fingers clench into fists. The male looked like an old-Earth hit man.
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br />   "Herma," Keely called out, somehow sounding happy and relieved she wouldn't be alone with Geoff. "This must be--"

  "The Jove-blasted hermaphrodite I shouted at," Geoff growled, shoving by the couple. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed Herma's reproachful eyes and her quivering lower lip. He also saw her twitch her lemon-yellow floor length gown out of his way, the dismissive movement accomplished with the aplomb of a queen. The image of Kiki--Paris, he reminded himself with uncharacteristic cynicism--using that same disdainful twitch the last time he'd walked out on her popped into his mind

  Narrowing his eyes at the hermaphrodite, he demanded, "What brings you two here?"

  "Kendra and Conner were worried about you," Frodie answered, his perfect syntax startling Geoff. The last time he'd had the misfortune to see Herma-Frodie, the man could barely string together two comprehensive words.

  "Connor upgraded Frodie's language programs," Herma explained.

  "That's wonderful!" Keely cried, giving the couple a quick hug. "We need a celebratory toast."

  Frodie separated from his mate, taking her long gown with him. "Ooops," he said, freeing Herma's hem before continuing to the bar.

  "Syntax and slang! Pinch me, Keely. Hard. I'm in the middle of a nightmare."

  "You are the rudest man I've ever met. That I remember," she mumbled, using that sotto voce trick of cousin Kendra's. Looking up at Frodie, she smiled her thanks for the snifter of Saturnian brandy he handed her as she sat. "Why are Geoff's cousins worried about him?"

  Geoff was more interested in learning how Keely knew Kendra and Connor were his cousins.

  "By the way, you look far more substantial than you did earlier," Keely added to Herma.

  "Frodie fixed us."

  "We are more solid when joined," Frodie added, his smile at his mate fond and more than a little lustful. Keely looked amused. Geoff was growing damned resentful. Frodie seemed to be getting from Herma what Geoff wanted from Keely.

  As if listening to a voice everyone but Geoff could hear, Keely tilted her head. "Hermaphrodite--A person or animal having both male and female sex organs." She sounded like she was quoting from a dictionary, adding, "Cool. But what are you doing here?"

  Together, Herma-Frodie glared at Geoff.

  "Like the majority of people on Earth, my cousins believe I'm guilty of treason."

  "They--" Herma began.

  "Do not," Frodie finished, nodding emphatically.

  "Why then, did they send you here?"

  "To help--"

  "Recover Honey," Herma said.

  Some of Geoff's resentment eased away. He wasn't sure how much help the hermaphrodite could provide, but it felt good to know somebody was rooting for him. Even if that help came from a programmed-to–promote-sex holograph cousin Kendra's grandparents had rescued from a den of iniquity on Earth.

  "Have you learned anything?" Keely asked eagerly, leaning forward in her chair.

  "Not yet." Herma touched Frodie's arm as if warning him not to say anything.

  Geoff's stomach muscles clenched. Distrust returned. As if he believed every word they uttered, Geoff murmured, "Then we can make our plans in the morning." He held out his hand. As if conjured by a master magician Herma-Frodie's scrolled traveling case appeared in his palm. Wondering where the case had come from, he blinked at it.

  "Cool," Keely crowed as they watched Herma-Frodie morph into a smoky strip before they disappeared into the intricately engraved compact. Wheel–clacking and whirling voiced their protests. That much about them hadn't changed.

  "Hey!" Keely protested when he put them in a desk drawer and locked it. "As if that'll hold them."

  "As if what?" He'd think about how the hermaphrodite had gotten to Saturnalia later. And how they knew exactly where to find him.

  "Never mind." She stalked toward the bedroom. "Good night."

  Reaching the door ahead of her, Geoff opened it, bowing her in. And locked the door behind them.

  * * * *

  Keely, peering under her lashes, watched Geoff lay a half-dozen bolsters down the length of the wide bed. His actions reminded her that the bed was so big it could hold a bunch of Keelys and at least two Geoffs. Some heavy material formed a canopy above the bed, making her wonder what purpose it served. She refused to ask. Geoff would probably explain in more detail than she needed. All she wanted to know was the time, not how to build the Jove-blasted clock.

  "There," he said. Jamming his hands in his trouser pockets, he glared at her. "I am not sleeping on the couch in the living room. I don't care how well-padded those cushions are, I can still feel the Jove-blasted springs."

  "Poor Snake. Just like the princess and the… I know it was some sort of vegetable. Small and round and--"

  "What's that got to do with anything?"

  "Well…whatever kind of vegetable the wicked queen put under the princess' mattress, it kept the poor girl awake all night. And the fact that she couldn't sleep proved to the queen that the princess was a real princess. So she and the prince got married."

  "And lived happily ever after," Geoff scoffed.

  "I don't remember anything about happy or unhappy."

  "But you remember the entire plot of a fairy tale."

  "Yes, even though I can't remember what kind of--"

  "Pea. The small round vegetable was a pea."

  "Are you sure?" Goddess, Geoff looked so damn cute! He'd raked his fingers through his hair so often it stood on end like one of those old-Earth Mohawk styles. And now he was pulling at his mustache as if he wanted to jerk it off his upper lip. And the angrier she made him, the cuter and sexier he looked. Keely liked the sexy part, but felt frustration might be a better emotion than anger. Anger, as far as she could remember, was dangerous and sometimes led to violence.

  She had a recurring flash of memory. A painful one where somebody wearing heavy, steel-toed boots kept kicking her and pounding her…her… Goddess! She wanted to forget all that, but she also wanted to remember it. If she could recall it completely, she might unlock her past.

  "Keely?" Geoff sounded concerned. Which made her want to cry.

  "What're the bolsters for?"

  His dark brows knitted over his aquiline nose, but he let her distract him. "To protect the princess from the big bad wolf."

  She looked at him blankly--one fairy tale she didn't know.

  "You're the princess," he explained.

  "I'm not afraid of wolves."

  "You should be--especially the two-legged kind."

  "What are the bolsters for?" she repeated.

  "They're a barrier. In the early sixteenth century--maybe earlier--courting couples sometimes slept in the same bed. Parents accepted the practice so long as the bundling board remained between the couple."

  "So the pillows… You intend to use them as a bundling board?"

  "Right." He grinned at her.

  "On top of the blankets?"

  "Y-yes." He looked, and sounded, wary.

  "While we are under the blankets? No thanks. I'll sleep on the couch. I think I'm shrimpy enough that the springs won't bother me."

  He caught her arm. Spun her against him so hard she lost her balance. He lost his as well.

  * * * *

  Geoff realized if he let her go he could regain his balance, could keep them both from falling. But she felt so good, he wrapped his arms around her and let their combined weight carry them to the bed. The wide, firm, pillow-strewn bed.

  He landed on top, seated firmly between her legs, the heat of her sex pressed against his swelling cock. In this position her shrimpy body fit perfectly with his harder--very, very hard--one.

  "Make you a deal, princess."

  She stopped squirming long enough to glare up at him. "What?" she snapped.

  "You sleep under the blanket, I'll sleep on top."

  She narrowed her eyes, jutted her chin. "With the bundling pillows between us."

  "I don't see the need." Heeding her thinned lips, he told her, "But if yo
u want the pillows…you got 'em."

  Pushing at his unyielding shoulders, she glared harder. "Get off!"

  He rolled to his back, cupped her buttocks to keep her in place. "Better?"

  "No." Planting her sharp elbows in his solar plexus, she pushed off--hard. She picked up a pillow off the floor and then threw it at him. "This time put the pillows down the middle."

  "I'm bigger than you."

  "I sleep big," she countered. "Do it or one of us--and it won't be me--will sleep on the floor."

  Jove, he loved it when she got in his face. Her pale green eyes darkened. The freckles on her nose stood out so clearly on her rosy skin he could count them. With her hands at her waist and her elbows thrust back, her breasts jutted out. He wanted to fill his hands with them. He wanted to move on to the fullness of her ass and pull her against him. Let her feel how hot and hard she made him.

  Discretion seeming the better choice than having her slug him, he placed each pillow in the exact center of the bed. Years in space had given him a keen eye for distance.

  "Satisfied?"

  The corners of her mouth twitched as if she wanted to smile. As if she wanted to throw his own words back at him. Something like Not yet, but I will be.

  "Almost." She pointed at the bathroom door. "Go in there. I'll call you when you can come back. Not one second sooner," she added as Geoff closed the bathroom door. Shouting, she demanded to know, "Did you hear me?"

  "I heard you. By Jove, the entire galaxy heard you," he shouted back.

  * * * *

  Keely searched the drawers full of underwear someone had provided for her. No nightgown. A dozen pairs of briefs, a few thongs, a half-dozen bras. No nightgown. A skimpy bikini bathing suit, but no nightgown. She knew she hadn't packed one. On Mars, she slept nude. And she seldom stayed in hotels when she went on a hunt for information. Little No-Name suited her needs during those times and she slept nude there as well.

  "Well hell!" Slanting a glance at the closed bathroom door, she riffled through Geoff's neatly unpacked belongings. On the bottom of a stack of very brief briefs, she found a well-worn T-shirt.