Programmed To Please (The Tau Cetus Chronicles) (12 page)

For a moment, Marque was speechless.

When his parents had been killed two decades ago in the Great War, Marque had been a boy of twelve, left alone to care for his eight-year-old sister. He’d been overprotective of Leora then, and he definitely was now, albeit for different reasons. Back then she’d been a vulnerable young girl, but now Marque was the High Council’s personal weapons conduit – and a potential target of every power-hungry egomaniac on Tau Cetus – so these days Marque was still doing his best to keep his sister safe. But despite his good intentions, it seemed that what he considered
caring
she considered
controlling
.

“What do you say, Marque?” Chavis cooed. “No harm done, right? Your net worth won’t be affected by the loss of two tiny missiles. How about if I promise to come directly to you next time Leora needs money? We’ll keep this just between us guys. It’s important that your sister is happy, right?”

 Marque’s jaw tightened. Chavis was responsible for the deaths of Joran Breaux, Regulator Florens Hericus, and who knew how many others as a result of the two stingers he’d just sold. Plus, he’d upset the balance of power in Terra Domus, a dangerous move that might threaten all of Tau Cetus. No harm done?

Hardly.

But Chavis wouldn’t look at it that way. He – and almost everyone else on Tau Cetus – believed Marque randomly sold weapons for profit, just as Chavis had done.

“Who did you sell the missiles to?”

“What?”

“I said
who did you sell those missiles to?”

Chavis frowned. He seemed to be silently debating whether he’d be in more trouble with Marque or with his buyer if he revealed that particular bit of information. “It doesn’t matter now, does it, Marque?” he rationalized. “I promised to come to you next time I need money.”

Marque blew out a breath. Frankly, he didn’t care anymore who had bought the stingers. The High Council would undoubtedly get that information out of Chavis, through force if necessary. Marque didn’t need any more blood on his hands than was there already. “You’ll have to pay for this, Chavis. Bursus?”

The bodyguard immediately came over to wrap an iron hand around Chavis’s upper arm. “Come with me.”

“What? No!” There was a confused look on Chavis’s face as Bursus steered him firmly toward the door of Marque’s office. “Marque. Come on, man, let’s talk about this. What will Leora say? She loves me! She’ll hate you for this even more than she already does. Marque!”

“Wait.”
Marque’s hard command stopped Bursus in his tracks.

She loves me.
Those were the only possible words Chavis could have spoken that would make Marque reconsider his decision to turn him immediately over to the High Council.

She loves me.

Was that true? Could his sister really be in love with this deceitful, lying thief? If so, could Marque do something that would make Leora’s life even more miserable than he’d obviously already made it? Marque had asked for this life, but she hadn’t.

Marque had a duty to the High Council, true, but he also had a duty to family.

Shit…

“Boss?” An obviously surprised Bursus was waiting for Marque’s next command.

Marque strode over to where his bodyguard still held Chavis in an iron grip. He stuck the remote under his brother-in-law’s chin, forcing his gaze up.

“Do you
swear
that you’ll come to me next time you need money?”

The relief on Chavis’s face was palpable. “I swear it, Marque.”

“And that you’ll treat my sister with the respect she deserves?”

“Yes, yes. I promise. I’ll treat her like the precious gem she is.”

“If you run,”
Marque threatened, “Bursus will hunt you down like a bloodhound. There will be no second chances.”

Obviously knowing Marque’s deadly reputation, Chavis swallowed hard. “I won’t run. I’m committed to Callex Industries. I swear it.”

Marque paused, considering. Then he glanced at Bursus. “Let him go.”

Bursus hesitated, and then released his grip on Chavis’s arm.

“Thank you, Marque. Thank you,” Chavis groveled. “You won’t regret this.” Then he sprinted out of Marque’s office so quickly he was a mere blur heading down the hallway.

“Boss?” The look of confusion on Bursus’s face matched the one on Talesin’s, who came to stand in Marque’s office doorway, one eyebrow raised.

Marque sighed. “I have to talk to my sister before I make a final decision on what to do about Chavis. In the meantime, I’m certain he won’t skip town. He’s conceited enough to think he just convinced me to overlook what he considers a… minor indiscretion.” He glanced at his antique watch. “I need to get to Beautiful Dolls.”

Yes. With his world in upheaval, what Marque needed right now was the comfort of the only woman in his life he could trust.

#

“I suggest you try the sex toys on her today, Callex.”

Marque looked at Anson Carron, who was standing in his usual place behind the concierge desk at the Beautiful Dolls boudoir, with the ever-present assistant Leigh Wyatt hovering at his side. Marque was still mentally grappling over how to handle this situation with Chavis, and wasn’t sure he’d heard Carron correctly. “What?”

“The sex toys,” Carron repeated. “The Doll is programmed to respond well to them. This might be your last chance to try them. Tomorrow your week here is up.”

Fuck. The last thing Marque needed was Anson Carron telling him how to make use of his own sexbot. Marque was very satisfied with his relationship with J as it was.

So satisfied, in fact…

“That reminds me,” he said. “You and I need to discuss something tomorrow.”

Carron bowed his head slightly. “As you wish.”

Marque glanced around. “But there is one question you can answer for me now…”

“Yes?”

“Why do I always seem to be the only one here?”

“You’re not,” Carron answered smoothly. “I simply stagger the arrival time of our clients in order to insure maximum privacy. The rooms are soundproofed, as you know. So that might be why you feel like you’re alone. But I assure you all the rooms are full.”

Marque frowned. He supposed Carron’s answer made sense, both from a privacy as well as a business sense. But something still bothered him. He turned to Bursus.

“Have you ever seen anyone leave here while you’ve been waiting for me?”

His bodyguard shook his head.

Carron’s facial expression never faltered. “That’s for two reasons. The first is that you’ve never spent your full allotted hour here until yesterday. The other is that some of our…
guests
…like to book for a longer session.” Carron winked suggestively, and then waved a hand toward the half-dozen doors leading off this main reception area. “Would you like to open a door and see for yourself?”

Marque’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Open one of the doors? No way. He knew how
he’d
feel if someone unexpectedly walked in on his session with J. Not that Bursus would ever allow that to happen. What he and J did in her room together was…
private.
As everyone’s session should be. “No. That’s fine.”

Carron bowed his head obsequiously.

The oily bastard
. Anson Carron really rubbed Marque the wrong way.

Carron waved a hand toward J’s door. “Enjoy today’s session.”

Marque frowned at him, and then turned to head for J’s room. Bursus took his usual seat in a chair by the doorway.

Turning the door handle, Marque silently let himself into the room. J was in her usual position, in a wooden chair near the bed, eyes closed, obviously in hibernation mode. He paused for a moment to admire what he saw. Her clever mouth, her perfect body. He wondered if he could do something about that blonde hair before he took her home, though. Blonde-haired women had never been his type.

Christ, she was always so still while in hibernation mode! It really was quite unnerving. But why the chair? When he got her home, would he have to provide a chair for her to hibernate? It would certainly be no problem, but why didn’t she just stand? She was a machine. It wasn’t like she’d get tired. Or maybe it was just more lifelike if she sat? Hmm. He’d have to ask Carron about that when he bought her tomorrow.

In fact, he’d have to ask Carron
a lot
of questions tomorrow about the upkeep of a Beautiful Doll.

He closed the door and took four steps across the room to stand in front of her. “Hello, J.”

On cue, her eyes slowly opened. She looked up at him and smiled broadly. “Hello, Marque.”

God, he loved that smile, the way her face lit up at seeing him, the way she always drew out the word
hello
in a slow purr, as if it were a blatant sexual invitation.

He also loved the sense of power that his own voice had over her. Because when he said
Hello, J,
it meant
wake up, my Beautiful Doll.

He sighed contentedly. Damn, he really needed to be here right now. What would they do together today?

Marque glanced briefly over her shoulder at the delicate rice paper shoji screen a few feet behind her, Anson Carron’s words coming back to him.

… try the sex toys on her…

Hmm. He remembered a brief glimpse of the toys on his first day here, but frankly, his focus then had been more on the technological miracle of J herself. 

He took a quick step around her, moving over to the screen, sliding it silently on its track to reveal the sex aids on the wall behind. His gaze took in the offerings.

All the usual. Blindfold, handcuffs, gag ball, whip, paddle, slave collar, rope, and a bunch of other things. His gaze strayed back to the paddle. Would J’s beautiful rear cheeks pinken nicely like a human’s if he used a paddle on her? Would he be able to soothe away the pain with his hand, like he would with a human woman?

Idiot. There would be no pain. J was a machine.

There I go again, endowing her with human feelings.

But more to the point, why did the idea of sexual punishment not even tempt him?

He knew exactly why.

“Are we going to…
play
…today, Marque?”

Marque turned to face her. J had twisted around in her chair to see where he’d gone. He frowned. Had he just heard a hint of nervousness in her voice, of trepidation? No. He must have imagined it. After all, Carron had said she was programmed to respond well to the toys.

He blew out a rough breath, and massaged the back of his neck with one hand. Edgy, kinky, or painful sex was not the reason he was here. “No, J. No sex toys. My life is dangerous enough. I want to be safe. I
feel
safe with you. I deal in weapons of war, but I just want some peace.”

Christ. He’d never bared so much of his soul – and in a single breath! – to another human being, much less to a machine. But he meant what he’d said. Every single word.

So much for divorcing his emotions from this relationship.

I deal in weapons of war, but I just want some peace….

Jai could see that Marque was in distress. It was in his words, but much more in the haggard look on his face. Had something happened this morning?

She inhaled sharply as a sudden realization hit her.
This was her perfect chance.
He seemed… vulnerable… today. Yesterday, he had taken the first step in opening up to her. Today was her opportunity to try and push harder to get more information out of him, hopefully the information on his arms dealings she needed to do her job and be done with this case.

So why did her heart ache at the thought of it?

Because I care for Marque Callex.

Yes. But there was no future in those feelings. He was a dangerous arms dealer and she’d been sent here to take him down. It was her job. She had to suck it up, as Commander Rainey had ordered, and be done with this assignment.

And ironically, her feelings for him just might help her to do that.

She was out of her chair and by his side in seconds. “Come with me.” She led him to the foot of the bed, which was really the only place they could sit side by side. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

The question got an ironic, sharp bark of laughter out of him.
“What’s wrong?
What’s right, you mean. Nothing’s right. Nothing’s right in my life.”

“Talk to me, Marque.”

“I can’t. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“I told you once that I’m here to please you. To make you happy. In whatever form that takes. Talking. Listening.
I’m here.”

He shook his head. There was such a conflicted expression on his face that Jai’s heart ached again.

She stood up and stripped off her thin sarong, did a slow pirouette, then stood before him naked. “Look at me. I’m not programmed to record, Marque, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m programmed to
please
. Check me over for yourself.”

Technically, it was true. She wasn’t wired. But Wyatt’s camera was very definitely whirring away overhead.

Her stunt got a small smile from him. “Beautiful J, you’re the
one
good thing in my life right now. I didn’t realize how miserable I actually was until I met you.”

Oh dear.
Jai swallowed. He cared for her, too, and she was going to coldly betray him. She hated this.

“Come here.” Marque opened his arms and spread his legs, inviting her into his embrace.

She went willingly.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, nestling his head on her chest, between her breasts. “Christ, I can hear your heartbeat.”

 “My
pseudo
-heartbeat. I’m Beautiful Dolls most lifelike model,” she said quickly.

“So you keep telling me. But sometimes I can almost forget you’re not real.”

I am real, Marque…I just wish I could tell you.

 Stop it, Jai! Do your job.

“Talk to me, Marque,” she urged. “You look like you need someone to talk to.”

That got a small chuckle out of him. “And how would you know what the hell someone who needs to talk looks like? I’m the only man you’ve ever been with.”