Meltdown (16 page)

Chris’s arms dropped to his sides, stepping back as if she’d slapped him. “I don’t believe it. You did it to me again!”

“Did what?” she cried, reeling from the unexpected rejection. “What are you talking about?”

“
Einstein
is what I’m talking about,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “You can’t even talk about making love to me without mentioning that bloody computer. He’s all you ever think about.”

“That’s not true. If you’d just look at this logically—”

“I’m sick of being logical!” He turned abruptly, the pale light glancing off the hard planes of his face. “You’re a slave to that computer. Face it, that bucket of bolts is the only thing you truly care about. Hell, sometimes I think E’s more human than you are!”

It was the same rejection Melanie had faced since high school, only much, much worse. She’d trusted Chris to believe in her. She’d poured out her heart to him, and he’d repaid her by calling her an inhuman, calculating computer. Well, two could play at that game. Hurt beyond reason, she lashed out. “At least I care about something. At least I’m not some good-for-nothing Casanova living off my father’s money.”

Instantly, she regretted her words. The pain in his eyes wounded her more deeply than any of his angry insinuations. “Chris, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Like hell you didn’t.” In one stride he was next to her, clasping her shoulders so tightly that she winced.

“Damn you,” he said, his voice thick with anger. “Is that all I mean to you? Is it?”

Melanie tried to shake her head, but couldn’t manage even that simple movement. Emotions churned inside her. Her mouth had gone dry. She’d
never been so aware of a man as a male animal: of his arousing smell, the barely restrained strength of his arms, the bright murder in his eyes. He was dangerously close to the edge. She tried to pull away. He only gripped tighter.

“Casanova,” he said, speaking the word as if he hated its taste. “Well, if that’s what you think I am, that’s what I must be. You’re too smart to be wrong.”

“Chris, please,” she began, her words a whisper. Truly frightened, she tried to continue, but never got the chance. His mouth came down on hers, cutting off the rest of her sentence. He fed on her like a hungry animal, ravaging her with his teeth and tongue, drawing the life out of her.

She fell against him, losing herself in the devastating power of his kiss. His passion flowed through her like an electric current, switching on all her senses at once. The fires she’d kept carefully hidden for so long blazed up in glory, bursting through her like fireworks on Independence Day. She twined her fingers through his hair and returned his kiss with every ounce of gunpowder in her soul.

Starved passions overwhelmed both of them, and their bodies ached for the fulfillment of love too long denied. Chris’s hands worked sweet, wild magic over her body. Hot and tender with need she arched toward him, wantonly rubbing herself against his hardness, silently cursing the clothes that separated them. But it was more than just physical wanting. She loved him; she knew it now. And she told him so with every stroke, every kiss, every sweet, sensual caress.

Bodies entwined, they sank to the floor, disregarding the packing crates that surrounded them. She felt Chris unbuttoning her blouse and shrugged her shoulders to ease it off. Her skirt followed, leaving only her lace bra and panties behind. His hands slid
over her, learning the contours of her slim shoulders, her firm, tight stomach, and the rounded peaks of her breasts. The touch of his hands on her bare skin was almost more than she could take. She reached up and pulled off his sweater, burying her own hands in the soft hair of his chest.

His mouth followed his hands, circling the tender peak of her breast with hot, teasing kisses. She writhed against him, aching with ecstasy. With deft hands he stripped off the rest of her clothes, and tossed his own onto the floor beside them.

She was so intoxicated by the feel of his body covering hers that it took her a moment to realize he’d stopped caressing her. Melanie’s insecurities returned in a rush. “What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”

“Wrong?” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “God in heaven, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Melanie smiled, awed and humbled by the admiration in his voice. “Me?”

“You,” he assured her, bending to kiss her waist. “I want you so much … but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

Chris drew a deep breath. “No one, and I
mean
no one, has made love to you like I’m going to make love to you. I don’t want to move too far too fast—”

“Chris?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Restraint was forgotten. She pulled him to her, feeling him slip deep inside her. The moan he uttered was more animal than human, matching her own carnal need. They moved together, flesh to flesh, desire burning out every thought except their hunger for each other. Tangled in passion, they found it
impossible to tell where one body ended and the other began, until his final thrust shattered her consciousness and sent her spinning into bright oblivion.

Melanie woke slowly, savoring the rich, gentle pleasure that flowed through her like sunshine. She’d had the most wonderful dreams—dreams of Chris making love to her in ways that made her previous fantasies seem like pale ghosts in comparison. Eyes still closed, she stretched like a contented cat, loving the feel of the soft, cool cotton against her flushed back and shoulders. She stretched out her arm in a lazy arc, searching for the mass of pillows she kept piled against the headboard—and came into contact with something warm, muscular, and distinctly unpillowlike.

“And good morning to you too,” rumbled a deep male voice.

Melanie’s eyes shot open. Chris was leaning back against the headboard pillows, grinning at her like a Cheshire cat. She saw why. Her hand had accidentally brushed his thigh in a way that could politely be termed “suggestive.”

Melanie turned a dozen shades of red and sat up, pulling the loose sheet around herself. “I didn’t mean … I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” he said, his smile increasing as he eyed the sheet. “Don’t you think modesty’s a little … er, unnecessary after last night?”

Not modesty, Melanie thought. It was self-preservation. The sight of Chris’s tanned, virile, and magnificently male form lying inches away from her threw her own body into chaos. A slow heat built in her center, and her breasts grew tight and taut, eager for his touch. The thin cloth barrier was the
only thing keeping her from slipping into Chris’s arms and spending the day making mad, passionate love to him. And neglecting Einstein.

She cleared her throat and tried valiantly to keep her eyes focused on Chris’s head and shoulders. “Chris, we’ve got work to do.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Melanie caught his provocative tone and smiled. “Not
that
kind of work. Einstein’s presentation is Wednesday afternoon—”

“Which gives us three full days to finish testing. Besides, don’t you think E’s got more than enough to keep his microprocessors busy?”

“What—” she began, then paled as memories of their violent and vocal lovemaking came to mind. “Good lord. He must have heard everything. What must he think of us?”

“He thinks,” Chris stated, “that we’re two consenting adults enjoying the hell out of each other’s company … or trying to, anyway.”

“Chris—”

“Okay, okay,” he said, throwing up his arms. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. I’ll help you test Einstein—on one condition. There’s a party at the country club next weekend. I’d like to take you to that party. How about it?”

Melanie blinked in surprise. “You want to take me? To the country club?”

Apparently Chris noticed the hesitancy in her voice. “Okay, genius, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she assured him. “Nothing, except … well, I’m not very good at elegant parties. I always say and do the wrong thing. When I try to make polite conversation, I end up talking about binomial equations. And at my college prom I spilled a margarita all over a professor’s tuxedo.”

Chris grinned. “No problem. I promise I won’t let you get near a margarita. Or a professor.”

“Chris, I’m serious. I don’t want to embarrass you in front of all your friends. Wouldn’t it be better if you take someone else? There must be lots of women you could ask.”

“Sure,” Chris said, his smile dissolving into a weary grimace. “Dozens. Hundreds. I’ve got black books overflowing with names of women. Doesn’t every playboy?”

His words pierced her heart. Lord, how could she have been so unfeeling? She’d hurt him—the one person in the world she’d have given her life not to hurt. Suddenly Einstein’s testing seemed ridiculously unimportant.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you shouldn’t feel you have to take me because we’re … friends. I don’t expect it. I know you’re just being kind, but—”

“Hush.” He bent over and laid his fingers against her lips, silencing her. “Now I want you to listen to me for a few minutes without saying anything. Will you do that?”

Melanie nodded.

Chris started to take his hand away, then apparently thought better of it, and returned to brush his thumb across her lower lip. “I suppose I should blame this mouth of yours. That first time I saw you in Dad’s office I decided you had the most kissable lips I’d ever seen.”

Melanie’s eyes widened. She started to speak, but Chris’s hand stopped her. “Remember, no talking. Where was I? Oh yes, kissable lips. Nice legs too. And great … well, let’s just say I was interested. I wanted Einstein from the beginning. But frankly, I wanted you too.”

Melanie sighed. Chris’s words flowed through her like bright water, washing away all the doubts and
loneliness in her life. She closed her eyes and leaned into his caress, parting her lips under the gentle pressure of his touch.

He continued, his voice growing low and intimate. “Last night you said that romance had always been a flawed equation for you. Well, it’s been that way for me. I’ve dated a lot of women, but quantity doesn’t mean quality. I didn’t know what I was missing until I met you.”

Chris’s lips met hers in a teasing kiss that left them both smiling. “You are, hands down, the nuttiest person I’ve ever met. I’m never sure what you’re going to say, and even less certain about what you’re going to do—except that you fight for the things you believe in and care about. Like Einstein. And me.”

His words ignited her. She cared for him so much. She ached to show him. Dropping the sheet, she went into his waiting arms, nuzzling against the wonderfully familiar warmth of his chest. “You mean so much to me,” she breathed. “How can I show you how much you mean to me?”

He lowered her gently to the bed. “I’m sure we’ll think of something,” he murmured.

Chris strode down the long hallway toward Sheffield’s executive conference room. “What’s the first thing to remember?”

“Don’t panic,” Melanie answered as she hurried to keep up with him.

“Very good,” he said, checking his watch. “And the second?”

“The board members are only human.” She wished Chris would slow down. She had to take two strides for every one of his.

“Excellent. I’ll make a saleswoman out of you yet. Now what’s the last?”

“Never wear straight skirts.”

Chris stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“Well,
you
try running in this thing,” she said, struggling to smooth her creased pin-striped skirt. “It’s not easy.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Chris said, smiling. His smile faded as his gaze focused on the stiff, awkward movements of her usually graceful hands. He reached down and took her hand, cradling her nervous fingers against his warm, steady palm. “Melanie, I know
facing the board makes you nervous. You don’t have to do this. I’m perfectly capable of handling this presentation on my own. There’s no reason for you to be in that conference room with me.”

“There’s one,” she stated, trying to keep uncertainty from creeping into her voice. “I
want
to be there. We’re partners, Chris. Sink or swim, we’re in this thing together.”

Chris looked at her for a long moment, his eyes warm with admiration. He raised her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “Together it is, genius. We are going to go in there and knock their socks off.”

“That remains to be seen,” a familiar voice said behind her.

Every muscle in Melanie’s body stiffened at the sound. She didn’t need to turn around to know the voice belonged to Duncan Sheffield.

“Hello, Chris. Good morning, Miss Rollins,” he continued as he came to stand next to them. The look on his face was cold enough to give an Eskimo windburn. “I see you haven’t lost your enthusiasm for this, ah—miraculous computer of yours.”

Chris’s mouth turned up in a wry smile. “That’s what I like about you, Dad. You’re so open-minded.”

“None of that, young man,” his father said sharply. “After all, I agreed to let you have some of our valuable meeting time for your presentation—”

“Correction. The
board
agreed to let us have the time, not just you. And, right now, the
board
is in there waiting for us to give a presentation. So, if you don’t mind …”

From the redness in his cheeks Melanie could tell that Duncan minded very much, but Chris’s sensible words left little room for argument. With a final “humph” he walked the rest of the way down the hall and into the conference room, leaving Chris and Melanie alone in the hallway.

Melanie took a deep, steadying breath. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Don’t you believe it. Dad’s vote is important, but not essential to Einstein’s acceptance. We’ll concentrate on convincing the other board members.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and headed for the door. “Everything will work out just fine.”

Melanie was far from convinced but she hid her concern, smiling bravely as she followed Chris through the paneled door. That smile died on her lips as she entered the conference room. Arrayed around the dark mahogany table that dominated the room were the eight members of the Sheffield board, looking about as inviting as a firing squad. Her stomach lurched.