Chapter Thirty-One
Head down, peering at her PerComm for the hundredth time, checking for news, Beth looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered figure leading a team of cyborgs. She stopped dead. The communication device hit the floor. “Carter…Carter!” She ran.
He caught her as she leaped. She fused her mouth to his, her tears salting their kiss. The rest of the team squeezed by, leaving them alone in the corridor. She clung to his solidness, needing tactile confirmation he was alive and well.
He hugged her, cradling her head against his chest. Their hearts beat together in a perfect rhythm. He brushed his lips in her hair. “Brock told me what you did, how you insisted he contact me and provided evidence to prove Vincere was Lamani.” He gazed into her eyes. “I am so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I wanted to be, but—”
She pressed her finger to his lips. “You had to do what you had to do. I understand. I panicked because I needed to tell you about Benson. The programming wouldn’t let me before. I tried to tell you by spelling it out with my fingers, but you didn’t understand.”
“Not at the time, no, but I realized it later, and it saved me. I knew then Vincere, aka Lamani, would try to kill me. I was able to stun him. Per standard operating procedure, I had on a photon-absorbing suit, which Dale Homme tweaked after you shot me at the Summit, so Lamani’s blast didn’t incapacitate me.”
“He shot you?” she gasped. She checked for injury, running her hands over his chest and shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
She stilled her hands, and he quipped, “You don’t need to stop doing that.”
She hugged him close, wrapping her arms tight around his waist.
He continued. “Cy-Ops took out Lamani’s guards at AOP headquarters.”
Beth shuddered. “I was scared to death. I couldn’t get Brock to believe me. The clothes I’d worn to the Summit had Benson’s DNA. On his ship, while he was threatening me, he got so close, he spit on me. Dr. Swain extracted his genetic material from the dried speck.” If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she would have taken great satisfaction from the shock on Brock’s face when Swain reported the test results: Benson’s DNA on her clothing did not match what was in the database, but it did match Lamani’s.
“Brock feels terrible. He intends to apologize.”
“It’s you he should apologize to,” she said vehemently. If she hadn’t been able to prove her claim, Carter would have been killed. Brock should have given her the benefit of the doubt.
He shook his head. “I don’t blame him. I can’t. Lamani was under my nose for over a decade, and I never caught on.”
“Where is he now? What will happen to him?”
“In Cy-Ops custody. He’ll be tried by a galactic tribunal for crimes against sentient life, but until he’s convicted, we’ll keep him. That’s part of what took so long. They expected me to hand him over, and I had to convince galactic authorities keeping him in “Aym-Sec” custody was in their best interests. I don’t trust anyone else to hold him. He’d escape or one of his generals would break him out of prison.”
He hugged her and then pressed another hot kiss to her mouth before shoving her gently aside and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go home. I want to hold you, but not here in the corridor.”
“Don’t you have a debriefing?” she asked. She hated to let him out of her sight.
“Many debriefings. There’s a lot that needs to be told, but they can wait until tomorrow. Brock is handling what needs to be done now.”
“Then, let’s get out of here.” The sooner the better—before something claimed his attention. She needed to curl up beside him, wrap herself so tightly around him that there could be no space between them. To draw reassurance from his touch, his heartbeat, his breath in her ear.
Once they were nestled in the PeeVee, she asked, “If galactic authorities don’t have an adequate facility to hold Lamani now, what will happen after he’s tried and convicted? Won’t he escape from their prison then?”
The PeeVee crawled through the garage to the outside thoroughfare then merged with the traffic and zipped toward the penthouse.
“Yeah, which is why Cy-Ops doesn’t intend to relinquish him ever. We haven’t informed galactic authorities yet. One bridge at a time. Besides, depending on which planetary members are selected to serve on the tribunal, he could be executed.
“We still have our work cut out for us because his generals and his fanatical followers are alive and well, but having captured the leader will be a big asset in stamping out terrorism. With the Resistance working on the inside, Cy-Ops working from the outside, and the AOP’s cooperation—we can do it.”
“Who will lead the AOP?”
“The undersecretary general will serve until an emergency election can be held. The Summit will reconvene after the AOP installs a new secretary general. Given that Lamani has been captured, military action against Lamis-Odg probably won’t be on the agenda, but I suspect that there will be new stringent measures discussed and implemented.”
He pulled her onto his lap, and she snuggled against him. “Here’s the part I couldn’t tell you before: Lamani founded Clo-Ventures to produce sleeper clones. Chips were implanted during gestation.”
He tightened his arms around her. “Remember the flowers Vincere sent you? It came with a holostick.”
“It was a get-well message,” she recalled.
“It was a Trojan horse emitting a wireless signal that activated the program in the chip. At the Summit, Lamani sent another short burst from his wrist comm to your chip to get you to kidnap Mikala. He had placed more than 350 clones in strategic places in the galaxy, many within the AOP. Fortunately, we were able to take all the clones into custody before he could trigger their programming or kill them. After the chips are neutralized, we’ll release them. Again, thanks to you.”
She shuddered to think of how many people could have died or been forced to do terrible things against their will.
Wait a minute. Strategically placed? “Are you saying Lamani is responsible for my Aym-Sec job? That he sent me here?” She had chosen to apply for the position. Hadn’t she? Did she have any control over her life?
Leaving the space station for Aym-Sec had been a pivotal moment, her first major decision, her first act of self-determination. It saddened her to consider it might not have been her choice after all.
“No, no. That was all you,” he said quickly. “You thwarted his plan to place a clone with one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the galaxy.” He quirked his mouth in satisfaction. “He didn’t factor you and the O’Sheas wouldn’t get along, or that you would seek a life away from them.” Her ambition and drive had thrown a wrench in Lamani’s plot. She’d been her own person right from the start.
“Georgetta had told me that Clo-Ventures had contacted them and convinced them to clone Liza.”
“You’ve spoken to Georgetta?”
“A few weeks ago,” she admitted. “We made our peace. I might go for a visit. I would like to get to know them under better circumstances.”
The PeeVee glided onto the roof. Carter hustled her out of the vehicle and into the building in record time. The penthouse door had no sooner sealed than he pulled her into his embrace and planted a searing kiss on her lips. She clung to him, his brawn, his solidness offering a counterpoint to the tenuousness of life. Here and now was all anybody got, and she intended to make the most of it.
He cupped her face and brushed his lips over her eyelids, her cheeks, and her nose before claiming her mouth in another deep kiss. His manhood hardened, and her body responded with an answering throb, desire coiling within her.
She heard a whirring and cracked an eyelid to see the little house robo scurry into the room. When its electronic eyebeam fixed on her, it spun 360 degrees and fled. Beth grinned.
“What’s so funny?” he murmured, but his mouth quirked in response.
“Nothing. I’m just happy.”
He sobered as he gazed into her eyes. “I could have lost you.”
“I could have lost you.”
They’d saved each other. She shuddered to contemplate what she might have done or revealed to Lamani before he terminated her life. She didn’t doubt he’d intended to kill her; the only reason he hadn’t killed her on the shuttle was because Cy-Ops had found them, and Benson Vincere couldn’t afford to be caught with her dead body. If she’d died, Carter might not have discovered Lamani’s secret identity until it was too late.
She pressed her lips to his throat. “Maybe we should talk about that later…”
“Good idea.” He waggled his eyebrow. “What else did you have in mind?”
She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the bedroom. “Let’s find out together.”
“I like the sound of that,” he said.
The bedroom lights came on when they entered then dimmed to a soft glow with a diffused spotlight highlighting the bed. “Did you do that?” she asked. She didn’t recall the house having those presets.
“Guilty.” He grinned.
“You and your cyborg brain.” She jabbed his chest with her finger.
His eyes darkened with intensity. “Me and my cyborg brain love you.”
“I love you, too. So much.”
“Good. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.” He cupped her neck and tilted her head back for his kiss.
He tasted of passion and comfort, love and security, belonging and desire—all the things she’d never dared to believe she could have.
They broke apart and began to undress. She pulled her tunic over her head and flung it atop his shirt, already puddled on the floor with his trousers. “Cyborgs undress fast,” she commented.
“They do when there’s somebody to undress for.” He shucked out of his undershorts with record speed.
She sat on the bed’s edge to remove her bootlets. He knelt to give her a hand, slipping the shoes off her feet. With his thumbs, he massaged an instep. She held his gaze as she ran the top of the other foot along his erection. His cock jerked. She smiled.
He slipped his fingers under the edge of her camisole with the build-in breast supports and pulled the garment up and off. His gaze caressed her, but he didn’t touch her as she’d expected, instead he hooked the band of her bottoms. “Lift,” he ordered. She raised her hips, and her underwear joined the heap of clothing.
He tugged her to the edge of the mattress and wedged himself between her spread legs to hug her. They rocked together, sliding skin to skin. Her beaded nipples rubbed his chest. His erection pressed against her clit and mons. He kissed her long, deep, and slow before nibbling a trail to her throat.
Her neck arched so that her hair dusted the bed. She moaned.
Ducking his head, he captured a taut nipple in his mouth. She felt as if her breasts, womb, pussy, and clit were interconnected, pleasure pulling from deep in her core.
“Scoot back,” he whispered.
She slid closer to the center, her head against the pillows. On all fours, Carter dove in for a kiss. She grabbed his cock, exploring his smooth, hot, hard flesh, her fingers not able to meet around his girth. He leaked a pearl of fluid, which she swirled over the head.
He growled, a sound so sexy, her pussy responded with a surge of wetness.
She caressed him everywhere, and he explored her body with a lover’s thoroughness. Her strokes elicited heavy groans; his caresses caused whimpers of delight. She took him in her mouth, wresting a hoarse curse; he pulled away and teased and taunted her intimately until she writhed and begged for completion.
He rocked into her with such gentleness, she pounded on his shoulders and cursed him, needing more. When he buried himself, she forgave him, moaning with pleasure.
He had undressed with lightning speed, but he fucked with slow, deliberate intensity, drawing out their mutual pleasure to be savored, treasured, remembered. He fucked like they had all the time in the galaxy, and maybe they did because every spiral of pleasure brought a glimpse of eternity.
With every thrust, he erased the ugly shadows of the past, creating a bright new future together. The clone and the cyborg. A bioengineered duplicate human and the computer-modified man. In each other, they found acceptance, belonging, and love.
The pinnacle of rapture hit as sudden and intense as a photon blast, a climax that rippled in her core before expanding in shock waves that seared every nerve, muscle, and cell. Overwhelmed, she surrendered to the ecstasy and clung to Carter’s neck.
His face contorted with fierce gratification, and he bellowed, finally pounding into her, giving her hard, fast thrusts she craved. She dug her nails into his back, crying out his name.
* * * *
Carter clasped Beth’s hand against his chest and exhaled his contentment in a long, satisfied sigh. In this moment, with her curled against his side, everything was right with the galaxy. As long as he had her, it would always be right. Not always easy—probably never easy—but right.
He shuddered to contemplate how close he’d come to losing her. If the chip hadn’t been found and destroyed before he’d waltzed into Vincere’s office…
Lamani’s wrist comm had been confiscated and was being thoroughly analyzed for information about terrorist plots he may have had in the works. They’d already gotten some preliminary data. What he hadn’t told Beth, what he would never tell her, was how close she’d really come to dying. As soon as Lamani had learned she’d had been released from custody, he’d tried to activate her destruct coding by sending a signal from his device. If they hadn’t destroyed the chip before he’d gone to see Vincere…
Don’t think about that. It’s over. Done.
He hugged her tight, burying his face in her hair. A major threat had been vanquished, but what gratified him the most was Beth’s love. She soothed the ache, filled the void. He could not imagine a future without her in it.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to each finger then the palm. Her eyes softened with love as she closed her hand around his kiss like it was a treasured keepsake. To have and to hold. If he got his wish, there would be endless kisses, love, and laughter, forever always.
“Marry me,” he said.
She drew up on one elbow.
His heart stuttered when she said nothing.
It burst in a shower of confetti at her smile. “Yes!” she said.
“Well, all right, then.” He was sure he was grinning like an idiot, but then felt stupider for turning what should have been a grand romantic gesture into an extemporaneous outburst. Would he ever learn? He didn’t have a ring! He’d planned and executed complex Cyber Operations missions, yet charged in unprepared for the most important moment of his life.
“Yes. Yes. Yes!” She repeated and laughed, flinging herself on top of him and kissing him. One kiss led to two, two to a caress. Desire flashed again, and they consummated their engagement.
Maybe he hadn’t botched this too badly.
Passion scented the room, and their breathing heaved as they cuddled in each other’s arms for a second time. They said nothing, but basked in the glow of sexual well-being and their new future.
She drew lazy circles on his chest in a desultory scribble, but then he began to sense a hesitant tension. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“There is something else we need to discuss.”
“Anything,” he said but held his breath.
“My position with Aym-Sec.”
He winced. He’d forgotten her request to change jobs—or maybe he’d hoped she’d given up the idea. “You still want to do that?”
“More than ever.”
“Will it change anything with us if I say no?” Would she rescind her acceptance of his proposal? After seeing her abilities in action at the Summit, he couldn’t deny she’d make a damn fine Aym-Sec officer. Despite the fact that she’d been forced to do the things she had, she’d kicked ass out there. The irony that he’d introduced her to new possibilities by insisting she learn to defend herself did not escape him. Nor did the realization that danger had found her when she worked behind the scenes.
“I can contribute by being in logistics, however, there’s a desire in me to take a more active role. If you say no, I’ll be disappointed, but I’ll accept it.”
No. Except he couldn’t utter it, because he understood her ambition, her need to make a difference. He felt what she felt. How could he deny her what he himself could not surrender? She would be accommodating when his missions took him away, even though she worried for him. Life offered no guarantees, only chances. If he hadn’t risked, he never would have met her. Against the odds, he’d found a woman who inspired his heart and body to sing, who shared his mission to save the galaxy, who understood and accepted him. But he would worry every single day she went to work.
He sighed. “All right. Yes.”
She squealed, her exuberance equal to her acceptance of his marriage proposal, demonstrating how important it had been. “Thank you!” She hugged him tight, pressing her naked breasts against his chest. His groin tightened. She kissed him.
Desire flared once more, and they consummated her new position with Aym-Sec.
Afterward, again holding Beth, he reflected on the future. He’d caught Lamani, but his followers would retaliate. Katnia, aided by Quasar, was a growing threat. There would be dangers, trials, and challenges. But if he could come home to her—he tightened his embrace—well, a cyborg couldn’t ask for more.