Make Mine a Marine (8 page)

Her first impression of Frankenstein's monster altered into another fairy tale. One where a man of true kindness and caring spirit had been enchanted with a hideous appearance to punish him for a crime. BJ couldn't imagine what crime her gentle giant could have committed.

Her
giant? Where did that possessive, protective feeling come from? Brodie could definitely take care of himself, and he had made it very clear by his words and actions that he wasn't interested in belonging to anyone.

“You're not all right.” Brodie pushed aside some books and sat on the edge of her desk, bringing his body several inches closer to her size. He pulled her hand into his and brushed his thumb lightly across her knuckles.

It was hard to push aside her new feelings when he made it so easy to give in to his strength and caring.

“You look a little peaked.” The archaic expression rumbled in his deep, soothing voice added to the old-fashioned charm and chivalry that BJ found so endearing.

“I'm okay,” she whispered, feeling his comfort and warmth slipping around her, chasing away the stress of the unpleasant encounter with Rick. “I just can't shake this headache.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“I can't leave. There are too many people downstairs waiting to see my latest creation.”

“You don't owe them anything.”

BJ reached for the right side of his jaw. She cupped her fingers gently there when he didn't pull away. “I can't run and hide, either. Besides, you'll be there with me, right?”

His eyes darkened to a turbulent storm cloud color before a shade was drawn and they reverted back to icy, emotionless gray. “I'll be there.”

Despite his promise, BJ could feel him withdrawing, shutting the doors to his inner self. Respectfully, she pulled her hands away, allowing him that distance.

Brodie was the one to press her hand reassuringly before they separated entirely. “Let's go.”

BJ preceded Brodie into the hallway, bolstered by his encouragement. A third figure came around the corner and BJ immediately slowed down, expecting Rick had returned.

But when she recognized the tall, distinguished man walking toward her, her anxiety vanished and she ran, smiling, into the welcoming arms of Damon Morrisey.

“Damon!”

Damon's sixty years were evident only in the distinguished silver of his hair and the crow's feet crinkling beside his dark brown eyes. He was a vital, intelligent man, with a wicked sense of humor and an affinity for giving bear hugs, which BJ loved.

“Bridget,” he smiled down at her, separating himself a little but keeping her in his arms, “I'm sorry to be so late. That last meeting ran on forever. I haven't missed the debut, have I?”

“Not at all. I'm on my way to start the demonstration now.”

BJ didn't know how she could feel any more secure than she did at that moment. The man she loved like a father held her under the crook of one arm, and the man who was becoming her spiritual as well as physical protector stood beside her.

“I want to introduce you to Brodie Maxwell.” BJ tilted her head up toward Brodie, who stood in the middle of the hallway with his feet braced out in a vee and his massive hands balled into fists. A vein pulsed beneath the scar on his left cheek while his eyes bored icy daggers at Damon. Brodie looked the very image of the beefy guard defending the gates of the castle.

Where was the danger? BJ wondered. Then she realized Brodie would be suspicious of everyone, and that without finishing the introduction, he had no way of knowing that Damon presented no harm to her.

She touched his arm, willing the mistrust out of his expression. Brodie's gaze dropped briefly to where she touched him, then refocused, just as unflinchingly, on Damon.

“This is Damon Morrisey, my mentor and good friend. It's all right.”

Getting no help from Brodie, BJ turned and smiled an apology at Damon. Damon didn't disappoint her. Releasing BJ, he stepped forward. “Mr. Maxwell.”

For a moment, BJ didn't think Brodie would accept the proffered hand. But then he relaxed his stance a bit and returned the handshake. “Morrisey.”

Damon folded his arms together and rubbed his hand thoughtfully across his jaw. “Do I know you?”

Brodie answered without inflection. “You'd remember me if we'd met.”

“I'm sure I would.” Unlike Rick, Damon seemed curious about, but not intimidated by Brodie. BJ hadn't considered the possibility of the two men not getting along. Without conscious thought, she had imagined the three of them forming a team to track down LadyTech's pirate and stop whoever was playing games with her. Brodie's reaction to Damon concerned her, but this was obviously not the place to discuss it.

“Let's get this show on the road.” BJ forced the lightness into her voice, hoping to prod Brodie into a friendlier mood.

No such luck.

With a grim, self-contained look in his eyes, Brodie excused himself. “You go ahead. I need to check a few things.”

BJ questioned him silently, but he offered no answers.

Damon proved to be a more willing escort. He bent his elbow and winked at her. “Shall we?”

BJ tucked her hand through his arm. “By all means.”

It didn't feel right to leave Brodie standing alone in the hallway behind her. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, and maybe offer him some of the comfort he had in abundant supply for her. She suspected he hated tonight's party, but endured it for her sake. Brodie gave and gave to her, accepting very little in return. She wondered what a man like him did for fun. She wondered if fun was even part of his vocabulary. She had yet even to see him smile.

A round of applause when they entered the warehouse startled her out of her theorizing. Damon dropped a chaste kiss at her temple and whispered in her ear. “My young protégée is a hit.”

“I'm not that young, Damon.”

“Please. Twenty-seven years old and a multimillionaire, with the respect and envy of her peers? Go. Take your place in the spotlight.”

Damon gave her a gentle shove. The crowd of guests parted to give her a path to the stage where Jas and Emma stood. “And here is the third member of the triumvirate that makes up LadyTech. I can see I don't need to introduce BJ to you.”

Jas continued with her speech about the new office opening in Tokyo, and plans to open a third network in Europe. “Most of you are familiar with the internet language for computers that BJ designed. That will still be the main focus at LadyTech. But tonight, BJ has prepared something just for fun. A sample of the games line we hope to launch in the near future. If I could direct your attention to the big screen behind me, I invite you to the premiere of 'Legends.'“

The lights dimmed and the audience quieted.

A familiar song BJ had composed on the keyboard jingled out of the speakers as pictures of superheroic androids introduced themselves on-screen. Mentally, BJ reviewed each command and waited for the resulting action in the program.

Slowly, the game unfolded. The androids played a battle of wits and strength against a master computer bent on destroying their home world. But as the game entered its second level, a sick feeling chilled BJ. This wasn't her game. Familiar images appeared, but she noticed subtle changes in the design. The androids looked more like monsters. The factual questions were worded like riddles. Lights blinked, and a graphic of a thunderstorm washed the androids off the screen, racking up thousands of points for the computer.

She hugged her arms tightly around herself, turning her knuckles white. Did the others see the same program she did? Or had she fallen into some demented dream? This was definitely her program, yet it wasn't the right program.

Her stomach heaved and the room spun. This was the game she had rewritten last night, killing time while Brodie wandered outside in the storm.

This was the last thing she remembered before coming to in Brodie's arms.

Panic overwhelmed her. Desperately she turned away from the screen, searching the darkness for the man who stood head and shoulders above the other guests. Too many shadows kept her from seeing if he was there.

She saw Damon, smiling at her and giving a thumbs-up sign. Quickly, she turned her attention back to the screen.

Emma leaned over and whispered. “When did you beef up the program? I thought you wanted to keep things simple.”

Jas whispered from the other side. “This is terrific. Certainly a little irreverent, but the audience is eating it up.”

“You can see it then?” BJ's whisper held none of the same excitement.

“See what?” Emma turned around and saw how badly BJ was shaking.

“This isn't right.” A headache pounded behind her eyes. “It's a pirated program.”

Jas wrapped a steadying arm around her shoulders. “Are you sure?”

Emma frowned with fear. “I'll find Brodie.”

“I need some fresh air.” BJ pulled away from Jas's support.

“I'll go with you.”

“No. Cover for me. Please. I'm losing it.”

BJ quickly descended from the platform. She barely acknowledged the congratulatory remarks from the guests as she pushed her way out of the room.

Someone had gotten inside her head again. Images from last night wound their way into the android program, its intricacies mocking her with the clever style that only she could devise.

She left the warehouse by the back exit and ran into the parking lot. She had to get out of there. She had to find Brodie.

What kind of sick jokester would take a woman's private daydream and put it onscreen for two hundred people to see? Or was the joke for her alone? What kind of demon tormented a woman with a silly game, making her doubt her own sanity?

She dug in her pockets for her truck keys, then remembered Brodie had driven them to the ball. She glanced back over her shoulder, anxious to escape, but not eager to return to the scene of her nightmare to look for Brodie.

Instead, BJ hurried over to his Explorer, praying he would look for her there.

She paced beside the Explorer for nearly a minute before noticing the folded paper tucked beneath the windshield wiper. Responding out of distraction more than curiosity, BJ pulled it out and unfolded it. On a sheet of LadyTech stationery, laser-printed in standard type, were these simple words, “Nothing can save you from your fate.”

Nothing
. The word tormented her. Deathly fear consumed her. She hadn't been threatened before. The only danger had been inside her head. Why would someone threaten her? BJ paused. Then she realized the message was on Brodie's car. It was intended for Brodie. Someone didn't want him investigating the security leak. Someone wanted him out of the way.

Permanently.

“BJ?”

The familiar deep voice boomed across the parking lot. She turned from the crumpled paper in her hand to see Brodie searching the shadowy parking lot for her. BJ sagged with relief. She ran to him, wanting to fling herself into his arms and beg that he protect her from the nightmare unfolding on the screen inside.

But she heard another sound that stopped her in her tracks. An engine revved, hidden somewhere in the darkness. When the tires squealed on the pavement, BJ remembered the note in her hand, the threat to Brodie.

A dark car lurched onto the roadway, picking up speed. Brodie jumped off the curb, running toward her.

She screamed his name and dashed forward, wanting him to move out of the path of the car. His gaze snapped from the oncoming vehicle to BJ.

“No!” The gleam of a chrome bumper flashed before her eyes.

With a flying leap, she launched herself at Brodie to push him to safety.

“BJ! No!”

When she hit the wall of his chest, he twisted and wrapped his arms around her like a shield.

She felt the horrible impact that knocked them both to the ground and sent them sliding several feet across the pavement. Brodie landed on top of her, knocking the wind from her lungs. She heard a crunch and Brodie's muffled “oof” and felt a burning along the side of her left leg and shoulder.

They came to a stop when they hit the grass at the curb. BJ lay stunned, smothered in the vice of Brodie's arms and chest. When she could breathe again, she squirmed until she wedged a little space to free her arms. She snatched Brodie around the neck, hugging him close and burying her cheek against his collar.

“This is all my fault. I'm so sorry I got you involved in all this.”

Brodie rolled onto his back, bringing BJ on top of him, holding her securely with one arm. His hand roamed up and down her arms and across her back. “Are you hurt?”

The car speeding from the scene wouldn't register until later. At the moment, BJ could only revel in the warmth and strength of the man who held her.

“C'mon, honey, answer me.” His hand pressed a little harder. Then, when his fingers touched the raw skin on BJ's shoulder, she gasped and stiffened. “BJ?”

She relaxed against him once more. “It's no worse than skinning my knee. I think I did a really good job of that, too. But nothing serious.”

“Thank God.” He squeezed her tightly. BJ clung to him, needing his solid security to anchor her in the midst of fear and chaos. He understood. He protected.