MaleAndroidCompanion (4 page)

What on earth was she thinking—an android?
What had ever moved her to do such a thing?

She wasn’t impulsive. Then again maybe she
just needed someone tonight, someone who would hold her without judgment or
ridicule. Thick emotion rolled through her like a big tidal wave. Tears built,
but she’d be damned if she’d let them fall.

The headline she was thinking of earlier
popped back into her head.
Dumped starlet turns to hot male robot for
affection.
Broken laughter spilled from her mouth. The handsome android
raised one brow in question but didn’t make a sound.

No questions. No trying to fix the problem
at hand, which always seemed to be what a man attempted to do, when all a woman
wanted was to express herself. She let her gaze roam over him once more. Yes.
There were some definite pros to consider. No more watching how much she ate
with her new M.A.C. No playing coy or shy. This arrangement could be
perfect—she had nothing to lose and there was no holding back. Her deepest,
darkest fantasies were at her fingertips.

Then there were the cons.

Even though on the surface he was the
effigy of a man, and a gorgeous one at that, this hoax would never work with
her family. How would he hold a conversation about current politics with her
dad or sports with one of her brothers? Surely, her mother or younger sister
Becka would see through the lie. Her mother, the newly announced president of
their family-owned banks since Gia’s grandfather had retired, was used to
seeing through lies. Of course Gia couldn’t even think about taking Marc to
Oregon with her.

And then there was the media.

A sudden gust of air-conditioning feathered
through Marc’s wavy black hair, which was short on the sides, longer on top.
Clean-cut. All-American. The Institute of Robotics knew what they were doing
when they packaged this model. His shoulders were wide, his chest thick and
muscular beneath the tight polo shirt he wore. Even his jeans caressed sinewy
thighs and narrow hips. Brazenly, she allowed her gaze to stroke his impressive
bulge, something she would never have done to a real man.

He shifted nervously on the leather seat
across from her.

When she looked up at his handsome face,
she recognized lust. Desire simmered like a flame in his emerald eyes, making
them glimmer.

So real.
Someone she would love to bring home to meet her family. He wasn’t flashy with
the mark of Hollywood tattooed across his forehead like Doug but real, solid, a
man’s man—a man a woman could trust.
Trust.
The thought pushed the air
from her lungs in one fell swoop. Shoulders sagging, her control slipped. The
moment she felt tears fill her eyes she looked away. Batting her eyelashes, she
attempted to blink away the unwanted emotion.

Dammit.

Gia had to get past the heaviness in her
chest. Doug wasn’t worth another tear. She had bigger problems ahead of her.
Like how to explain why Doug and Mary wouldn’t be attending her parents’ party.
Then there was Aunt Clare, who made her feel as though she was the black sheep
of the family because she wasn’t married. And of course, Gia had never been
able to hide anything from her mother, including a broken heart.

Gia’s gaze went to the android once again.
Fortunately, sunglasses hid her sorrow; then again, the robot before her wasn’t
human. What would he care if she broke down and bawled her eyes out? Because
that’s just what she needed, a good cry. She glanced at the driver before
closing the window between the front and backseat, secluding her with Marc.

What a mess. A weighted sigh pushed between
her lips as she wondered what the chance would be that none of her family
members had heard about the escapade at the studio. Lost in the little pity
party she entertained, she jumped when a warm hand lay upon hers.

“Are you all right?” Concern furrowed
Marc’s broad forehead as he leaned toward her.

Sniffling, she fought back the moisture
beating behind her eyelids. “No. I’m not.” A wayward tear rolled down her
cheek.

It was silly, but she could really use her
mother’s shoulder right about now, and for Doug and Mary to go straight to
hell. She pinched her lips together. Her chin quivered.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk?” Her eyes gaped with surprise,
unleashing several more tears. Before she could wipe them away, he raised a
hand and smoothed a finger across each cheek.

“Yes. Talk.” The softness in his eyes
appeared heartfelt, as if he actually cared, and that made it worse for Gia.
“I’m a good listener.”

Tomorrow she would face a barrage of
people, interviews. Some who would feel sorry for her, others who would revel
in her loss. Neither would give her any comfort.
Dammit.
She didn’t want
to cry, even in front of an android.

A pregnant pause ensued between them.

“Gia?”

When he spoke her name, she inhaled sharply
and then something inside her broke. On an exhale she began to ramble. “I’ve
had one of the worst days of my life. Set delays. Wardrobe malfunctions.” The
strap of her negligee had fallen down her shoulder, the adhesive holding the
material in place had given way and her boob had popped out, requiring a retake
of the scene. Not to mention her embarrassment. She might wear skimpy, even
risqué clothing, but never complete nudity. And it had all been caught on film.
Thank God her parents would never see it, unless it spread across the internet,
which was a possibility. Acid churned in her stomach.

This day was getting better with each
second.

“Script problems,” she continued. “Issues
with actors. And to top it off,” she released a shuddering breath, “I found my
boyfriend fucking my best friend on my makeup table.” She bit down on her lip
to keep her emotions at bay. “Now the paparazzi know. It’ll be plastered across
every news media if it isn’t already. My parents’ anniversary is in a week.
They were expecting me. Doug—” Gia tried to hold back the wall of sentiment but
it was useless. The floodgates opened wide.

She was so entrenched in her pain, she
didn’t even realize that Marc had moved off his seat and sat beside her until
his thigh touched hers.

Strong arms embraced her, holding her
against a firm torso. “Sweetheart, don’t cry.”

For a moment she forgot who or rather what
Marc was and locked her arms around his neck, clinging to him. “I-I hurt.” Her
voice broke in short gasping breaths. Her chest burned. She felt so alone, so
betrayed. Not to mention homesick. The last five years had been hell being away
from her family, and now this. She had no one to turn to or rely on. Her family
loved her, but she couldn’t admit to another bad choice in her life, not even
to them.

God. She felt like a failure.

“I know, honey.” Rocking her back and
forth, he patted her softly on the back. “These things happen.”

For the first time in quite a while, Gia
buried her face into a man’s shoulder and allowed herself to grieve aloud,
something she had learned to shield from the public and her so-called Hollywood
friends. Even her childhood friends back home had become distant since her
success, except for the ones who wanted something from her, and who needed
friends like that? It dawned on her that she was truly alone. Other than her
family, she had no one, and pride kept her from reaching out to them. The
emptiness crowding in on her was too much to bear.

“Shush, baby,” Marc whispered, comforting
her as if she were a child. “It’ll be okay.”

Gia wasn’t a fool. It wouldn’t be okay. If
she moved home nothing would change. There would be no job waiting for her. No
friends to welcome her back. Acting was her career and Hollywood was her home.
Here her beauty was celebrated and opened doors for her instead of slamming
them in her face.

When the car stopped at a light, she was
still shaking from the outburst but her tears had lessened. When she swallowed,
her throat felt raw and sore. She snuggled closer, not yet willing to release
the warmth and support the arms around her provided.

“Do you love him?” Marc’s black-velvet
voice caressed her as if it were silk sliding across her flesh.

Sucking in a choppy breath, she looked up
through misty eyes. Did she love Doug? Mary? Or had they been her only allies
in a city where people were bought and sold and discarded in the blink of an
eye? No one was who they pretended to be, including Doug. And there was that
part of her that really wanted a relationship, someone to come home to, to
share her dreams and aspirations with, and most importantly, someone who loved
her. Not because she was famous, but because she was Regina Lynn Easton.

Gia was so tired and confused. For the last
eighteen months, she had gone from one set to another without a break. Perhaps
she needed a vacation, time away from the rat race and the life she had carved
out for herself. She needed simplicity. She needed her family.

Pushing against Marc’s muscled thigh, she
sat up, shaking her head. “No. Not really.” It would be a lie to say she didn’t
have feelings for Doug, but love? No. “I feel more betrayed then anything. I
trusted him.”
And Mary.
Gia sniffled and accepted the bar napkin Marc
handed her. “Mary was my best friend. And then there’s the press.” Dabbing at
her nose, she dragged in a ragged breath. “They’ll have a field day with this
mess.” She paused, but only briefly. “I guess I’m angrier that the two
individuals I cared for the most in Hollywood used and betrayed me.” Irony
filled her short burst of laughter. “Of course, the fact that I was dumped for
my assistant doesn’t sit well with me either.”

There, she said it. Her pride had taken a
blow and the world would know it, as well as her family. The embarrassment
wasn’t something she cared to face any time soon. No. Scratch that. The
embarrassment wasn’t something she
ever
wanted to face.

With a single finger, Marc pushed back a
tendril that had escaped her cap. “I can assure you your agent had no plans on
dumping you.”

Agent? She hadn’t mentioned Doug was her
agent. How would an android be privy to that kind of information?

“Uh. How did you know—?”

“You have to remember he’s a man and most
of us don’t think past the brain between our thighs.” He gave her a sheepish
grin that she found so charming it erased the lingering question in her mind.

Instead, she reached up and ran a palm over
his smooth cheek. “You act and feel so real.”
And smell good too.
Like
warm spice on a cold morning, his scent played havoc with her senses. Perhaps
the M.A.C. Company added chemicals or man-engineered pheromones to the
android’s cologne in order to attract women. It was sure doing crazy things to
her. Her breasts felt heavier and she couldn’t help taking in his aroma again.

I’m distraught
, she rationalized. Nothing more.

A smile crinkled the corners of his green
eyes. “I’m about as real as you can get.” His chuckle held mild amusement.

“I don’t even know where to begin with
you,” she admitted unashamedly. He was an android and a damn good-looking one
at that, but he wasn’t real. She looked away, staring out the window.
Skyscrapers reached heavenward, the sky a mass of transit filled with small
spacecraft and trans-airliners moving in streaks of color toward their
destinations, while other motorized vehicles and hovercrafts moved steadily
below.

Would there ever be a man who would love
her for who she was inside and not what she was? Insecurity crept in on silent
feet, skittering across her skin.

Marc smoothed a palm up her arm. “Perhaps
we need to get to know each other better.”

“What?” As she turned her head, he leaned
in and brushed his mouth lightly across hers.

Startled, she wet her lips, tasting him and
the flavor of spearmint.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
He felt so real
beneath the hand she rested on his bare forearm. Muscles rippled beneath his suntanned
skin.

“First we’ll start by taking these off.”
Removing her sunglasses, his gaze locked on to hers. Something electrifying
zinged between them—desire? She witnessed his slight flinch and he swallowed
hard.

Did he feel the charge too?

Impossible.

Robot
,
hummed in her mind. But before Gia could analyze her reaction to the android,
he drew closer, so near that their noses softly skimmed each other. Her heart
beat a rapid staccato.

He caressed his palms down her arms to her
rib cage, settling them at her waist. “You see, if you were my woman,” he
angled his head, sliding his lips once more across hers, “I’d never let you out
of my sight.” His pupils darkened to a deeper shade of green. A small,
humorless smile curved his mouth. His grin and the dimple—in his right cheek
only—were so sexy the air in her lungs caught. “You’d be
mine
forever.”
The conviction in his voice sent a shiver up her spine. “I’d love you like a
woman should be loved.”

Wings of arousal softly stroked her belly
and then clenched, sending the sensation lower. She felt herself grow damp and
her eyes widened with surprise. Did it matter that he wasn’t real? At this
point any man would do to vanquish thoughts of Doug and Mary’s betrayal.