C j barry unearthed 02, p.1
C. J. Barry - Unearthed 02, page 1
UNRAVELED
BY C.J. BARRY
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Dedicated to my wonderful parents, Tom and Jean, who always encouraged me to shoot for the stars.
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LOVE SPELLŽ
October 2003
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc. 200 Madison Avenue New York, NY 10016
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Copyright Š 2003 by C. J. Barry
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
ISBN 0-505-52562-3
The name “Love Spell” and its logo are trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Printed in the United States of America.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe my gratitude to many great people: Chris Keeslar and everyone at Dorchester Publishing; my terrific agent Roberta Brown; the Purple Pens; the CNY Romance Writers; the Lollies; my dedicated critique partners Cactus, Patti, Joyce; co-workers and cyberfriends; the Romance Writers of America; Susan Grant; Catherine Spangler; and every one of my loyal readers. I also thank the tarot card lady in New Orleans who told me that I needed to go home and finish this book. And, as always, I am deeply grateful to my family: Ed, Rachel and Ryan. Thank you all. I couldn’t have done it without you.
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Chapter One
Tru took a deep breath and stepped through the battered doorway. A drinking glass shattered against the wall behind her, splashing its lime green contents across one leg of her silver bodysuit. A chorus of roars burst from the far corner of the saloon. Tru froze as The Rough Cut attacked all of her senses at once. The noise, the smell, the visual were overwhelming. In her mind she fought to make order of the chaos before her.
Noise demanded attention first. An ebb and flow of hearty masculine bellows deafened the dreadful music straining above the discord. Jeers, cheers, rantsthey all melded into a raucous symphony.
The smell, well, she didn’t even want to analyze that. Her nose would never be the same.
The visual would take a bit longer to sort through. The four dilapidated walls were a patch-work of crudely attached composite board marred by vulgarities in every alien language. A serving bar stretched the length of the far wall, manned by a single burly saloonkeeper. A haphazard collage of tables and chairs in various stages of ruin littered the rest of the place.
Then there was the patronage. Tru caught glimpses of scars, matted hair, missing teeth and something furry in the corner that she was trying hard to ignore. Men huddled over small tables, heads close, grunting and chortling, watching her.
Lovely place. And to think that in all her twenty-nine years she’d never been in a saloon. Nice to know she hadn’t missed a thing.
Over the general racket and chaos, Tru scanned the saloon and spotted the man she had come to see.
She made her way through the crowded tables and overt looks to where he sat at the bar, his back to her. She slowed as she got closer and he got bigger. Standing behind him, looking at those broad shoulders, she nearly changed her mind about the whole idea.
What did he eat?
She shook off the thought and spoke up. “Excuse me. Rayce Coburne?”
The man before her turned leisurely on his stool and propped his elbows on the bar. Tru froze as brilliant blue-green eyes drilled into hers. They were hypnotic, a stunning complement to the black hair that hung carelessly over his forehead. Finely chiseled features under smooth, bronzed skin fashioned a rogue’s countenance. He lounged on a bar-stool amid the barrage of foul language and stench of alcohol, looking completely at home. She couldn’t tell how tall he was, but he was solidly built. Big arms and shoulders stretched the seams of the supple gray jacket he wore. His white shirt-collar was open, revealing a golden brown, powerful chest. Strong leg muscles bulged through the light fabric of the black pants. Even though she’d seen images of him, the live, up-close version proved far more daunting.
He gave her a long once-over before breaking into a slow, lazy smile.
“Have a seat,” he said in a soft growl of a voice that burned into her memory long after he showed her the empty stool beside him.
As she sat down, she was keenly aware of his eyes scanning the length of her body. Talk about distracting. Her pulse quickened; her palms began to sweat. She rubbed her hands on her thighs. The worst part was that he hadn’t done a thing except offer her a seat.
Annoyed at herself, Tru straightened. After all, he was only a man. A man who would soon work for her.
Boldly, she met his gaze. “What are you drinking?”
Coburne narrowed his eyes. “What are you drinking?”
She hadn’t planned for that. She never drank, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him.
“Safin,” she said quickly. It was the only intoxicating drink she knew of.
His eyebrows went upin respect, she thought. She hoped. He held up two fingers to the saloonkeeper who nodded back.
The drinks appeared immediately and Tru picked up her glass as if she did it all the time. She took one small sip. Nice. Pleasant. Cool. She took a big sip and stopped breathing. Cool turned to heat in a flash that shot from her hair to her toenails. It was all she could do to stay on her seat.
Coburne chuckled softly next to her. Through the tears in her eyes, she watched in awe as he downed his drink in one swallow.
He immediately ordered himself another. Tru grimaced. She’d better get to business before he drank himself into a stupor.
“My name is Tru Van Dye and I have a business proposition for you,” she stated firmly.
He stared at her for a full minute before answering. “How much?”
Tru blinked. “Don’t you want to know about the job first?”
He laughed low over his new drink. “I know the job. How much?”
She frowned. “I thought 5,000 credits up front would be fair. We can negotiate the rest later.”
Coburne choked on his drink. He gave her a hard look and then glanced around behind her. “For just you?”
Sensing that she was missing something quite significant, Tru replied carefully, “Yes. I’m good for the credits.”
He blasted her with another killer smile. “You better be good. I don’t pay that much for any woman.”
Tru’s mouth dropped open in comprehension as his smile turned sinful. The air changed around her, growing hotter and more sultry. Coburne moved fast, slipping his hands around her waist, pulling her up out of her seat and against him. She gasped as her body made hard contact with his.
Oh, dear. This was not going at all as she had planned.
He lowered his face to hers and murmured, “Okay, lady. Let’s see what a man can get for 5,000 credits these days.”
Incensed out of her initial shock, she shoved against his chest and stepped back a fair distance from him.
“I don’t believe this,” she said with what she considered exceptional self-control, under the circumstances. “You aren’t paying for me. I want you to work for me. I am a client, not a street moll.”
By now, the entire saloon had seen and heard their conversation. The peal of male laughter hit her ears like a slap.
Coburne grinned wide and crossed his arms. “I think I prefer to be the client.”
Another roar of laughter. The heat of humiliation stung her cheeks. At that precise moment, she knew that her carefully crafted plan had failed beyond all repair.
Disgusted with herself and him, she turned and stalked around the tables for the door. She’d blown it. And as far as she was concerned, there was never an excuse for failure.
Nothing less than perfection, Tru. Her father’s familiar maxim mocked her.
She felt Coburne’s hand on her arm just as she exited the saloon. Effortlessly, he spun her around to face him and pinned her to the rough outside wall of the saloon. Before she could protest, his mouth covered hers with a scorching, staggering kiss that made her knees buckle.
The kiss turned to pure liquid heat stronger than any drink, pouring through her veins and igniting sensations she’d never felt before. No man had ever kissed her this wayall wicked and decadent putting his whole being into one, sole purpose. It was her first full-body kiss. So, this is how it felt to be seduced by a rogue. No wonder women fell at his feet.
His body pressed against hers and suddenly she felt as if the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs, replaced by something hot and volatile, ready to explode. She actually shuddered from the intimate onslaught, unable to find a single weapon with which to defend herself.
Not in the original plan at all.
For the first time in her life, her body utterly refused to listen to her mind, not even when he broke off the kiss. His lips were now making their way down her throat leaving a fiery trail and moving still lower. But when he reached her breasts, she froze. Too real, too close. Panic gripped her as she pushed him away. He stood back, staring at her in confusion.
Quickly, she said, “Computer: End program.”
Rayce Coburne and his heat faded away as the virtual-reality simulator powered down. Even though only her mind had actually been in the program with Coburnefelt him touching herthe residual tremors still skittered through her nerve endings. The VirtuWav was a marvel in technology, and hell on one’s senses.
Tru floated down the simulator’s tube of buoyant gases until her feet were back on solid ground. As the blue shield lowered around her, she tucked her hair back into its tight chignon and tried to compose herself.
She glanced up at her elderly colleague waiting at the VirtuWav control panel. All she could see of Majj Noa Leeberfinger behind the console was his shocking white hair, ruffled and chaotic, as if trying to escape his head. That head housed a brilliant mind. Too bad she’d wasted his effort. How was she going to break the news to him that she’d miscalculated badly after he’d spent the past month building this exercise for her?
Noa squinted at her as she stepped out of the VirtuWav. “So? How did it go?”
Tru joined him at the console and gave her old friend a weak smile. “Not quite as well as I’d hoped.”
The older man’s gray eyes widened in rapid panic. Tru patted his arm and added quickly, “It’s not your fault. I took the wrong approach. I’ve got it figured out now.” She didn’t, but she’d think of something between now and the time when she needed to confront the real Rayce Coburne.
Noa fell in step beside her as they made their way out of the VirtuWav lab and down the corridors of the research building. Tru shortened her stride for the diminutive elder, his shoulders hunched forward as he limped along. His silver jacket hung like a sheet from his thin body. Although his mind was as sharp as ever, he seemed to be moving more slowly these days.
“I used all the information I could find to replicate Coburne,” Noa said apologetically after they’d cleared security and walked out into the waning daylight.
Tru narrowed her eyes in concentration. “I think Coburne is satisfactory. Perhaps a change of venue is in order. Somewhere they don’t serve drinks.”
Noa shrugged. “I suppose I could alter the program, but you realize, everything must be as realistic as possible. His world is not like ours, Tru. It is different, unpredictablewith life forms who act randomly and recklessly with no forethought to consequences of their actions. I went on the outside once.” He gave a hard shudder, as if reliving a memory.
Tru glanced across one of the many pristine courtyards of their worldthe Majj Institute where she’d spent her entire life. White stone buildings and towers around the perimeter gleamed pink in the late day sun; so mirrorlike you could almost see your own reflection. Almost. The silver uniforms they wore blended in so well, a person all but disappeared into the Institute walls.
The landscaping was equally immaculate. Not a stray leaf on the stone pathways, not a shrub out of place, not a dead bloom to be seen. The flowers were perfect, every one of them exactly like the next.
Tru gave a practiced nod to a pair of female colleagues passing by, the full Majj crest on their uniforms gleaming in the setting sun. She looked down at her honorary token crest and tightened her jaw in resolve. Yet another reason why she would not fail. Before this term was out, she would have her full Majj crest. She waited until the women were out of earshot.
“I’ve spent the past year working on this project,
Noa. I will not fail. Rayce Coburne is just a man. No more, no less.”
Noa shook his head. “Not like other men. Not like anyone here. He is rash, impulsive, dangerous”
Tru interjected, “He may be all that but he’s also very good. I need this coup. If I don’t produce a major discovery and secure my own Charter soon, they will kick me out of the Institute.”
Noa winced visibly. He knew, as she did, that individual achievement was the only way to stay at the Institute past the age of thirty, regardless of birthright. The administrators did not back losers.
He offered, “You don’t have to worry about that for some time.”
She gave him a wry smile. “You’ve earned your place here. The VirtuWav would not exist today if it weren’t for your research. I don’t have such a luxury. And I don’t have a lot of time. Besides, this is for me. My right, my Charter. I can’t hide behind my father’s past successes any longer.”
“You helped him with those successes,” Noa reminded her with a scowl.
She shook her head. “You know it’s not the same.”
“But Coburne?” Noa raised his voice in frustration. “He’s nothing but a commodities broker, a common mercenary. There wasn’t another choice in the entire galaxy?”
Tru pursed her lips. It wouldn’t do to tell Noa that she’d found Coburne’s name in her father’s belongings. Noa and her father had never seen eye to eye.
“Coburne is an acquisitions specialist, and a good one. No other man met my criteria. He can obtain any article a client desires. He is well-connected, discreet and fearless,” Tru said firmly. “And, as far as I can tell, he has never failed to satisfy his clients.” She flinched at her choice of words.
Noa grumbled something low and then asked, “So what if Coburne refuses your request?”
Tru smiled to herself. “He won’t. We know he needs the credits. Every man has his price.”
They passed through the yawning archway into the Majj housing complex where their paths split. Tru came to a halt. Noa stopped in front of her, shaking his full head of white hair.
“Don’t be too certain, Tru. You can’t underestimate him.” Noa looked down at his feet for a few seconds and then added, “You’ve heard that he … likes the women?”
The heat rose suddenly in Tru’s cheeks. “Yes. That fact came across particularly well in your program.” She cleared her throat. “Don’t worry. I can handle him.”
Noa’s cheeks were red, as well. “I certainly hope so. When do you leave?”
“As soon as the meeting arrangements are complete with Coburne.”
He frowned. “I hope those exit documents I fabricated for you work. If anyone checks the approval stamp …” His voice trailed off.
Tru smiled at him. “I’m sure they will be fine. Everything you do is perfection.” Then she paused. “I probably won’t see you again before I leave,” she said quietly. “Thank you, Noa. For all your help and faith.”
He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his silver jacket and shrugged his shoulders. “Nonsense. You don’t need any help from an old man.”
“I will always need you.” Then she lowered her voice. “And don’t forget to care for my flowers.”
He rolled his eyes to the sky. “You still have those? Why do you bother? They are nothing but rejects.”
Tru corrected him, “They are unique.”
Noa threw up his hands in defeat. “If you say so. I’ll do my best not to kill them all. You know I don’t do well with living things.”
Tru smiled warmly and resisted the urge to hug him. That would never do on the Institute grounds. “You are my only friend.”
He gave a terse grunt. “Then I pity you and me because you are mine, and we both should have more.” He stared at her for an awkward moment. “Be careful, Tru.”
“I will,” she whispered. He nodded once and turned down the walkway to his residence.
She watched until he was out of sight and then headed in the opposite direction. She hated lying to Noa, but there was no way she could tell him her ultimate plan or he never would have forged her exit documents so she could leave the Institute. But she had no choice. Her mission couldn’t be completed in a VirtuWav or through the Institute’s archives. This was to be a mission like no other, with a reward far greater than granting her a Charter to stay here. She would be bringing history alive.
She smiled proudly. The Majj had single-handedly obliterated entire diseases, developed life-saving treatments, created new computer technologies, documented lost civilizations and much more for the good of billions. It was her life’s calling.
Nearing her apartment, she spotted a frail-looking plant beside the walkway, its yellow flower head drooping toward the ground while all the other plants’ blossoms looked up. Tru stopped in front of it and gave a quick look around. Seeing no one, she stooped down, sunk her fingers into the soil around the roots, and lifted it out of the ground. She filled the hole it left and made her way into her apartment with the plant.
