theory. How did the machine get there? The police think it was assembled on sight and then somehow blown up to size, although how that works with metal is beyond my understanding.”
She took a deep breath, let it out, and then spoke. “It was transported.”
“Transported how? In a big truck?”
“No.” He didn’t watch the show; he wouldn’t know what she meant. “A transporter is a machine that moves things from one location to the next at the atomic level.”
“The thing that makes everything look wavy and then reappear somewhere else?”
She laughed. His description was so literal. “Ha. Well, yes, but I mean the graphics and the technology to make everything seem real wasn’t anywhere near what it is now. The movie that’s supposed to be coming out soon should appear more true to life … .”
He held up a hand and she realized she rambled. “But the point here is that you think that someone has actually invented this technology and now has the ability to transport matter over space.”
“That’s exactly it.” He’d just described the science behind it. Maybe he might actually like the show.
“You look like I just told you that you could eat all the chocolate you want and not gain weight.”
Now it was her turn to wave him off. “Who cares? No one ever notices me. I could gain five hundred pounds and no one would notice. I’m just thrilled because you aren’t dismissing me.”
“Wendy, I just rescued you from a twenty story metallic cat monster. Do you think I’m really in a position to be calling something crazy? This is the Organization we’re talking about here. They killed my last Handler and spent four years plotting this.
I think it’s entirely possible that anything is not beyond the realm of the plausible at this juncture.”
“So you’ll look into it then?”
He nodded. “I don’t know who I’m going to ask, but I’ll find someone.”
“Thank you, Draco.”
He stepped forward, pulling her into his arms for one last hug before he let go.
“Get some sleep. You’re safe here. No one in the world knows where we live and either Ace or I will always be with you.”
“Right.” Her heart fell as she realized he was leaving. What had she expected? He wasn’t going to spend the whole night in this room with her. It was nice enough that he was letting her stay.
Turning back one more time, he smiled. “By the way, I would notice if you gained five hundred pounds, Wendy.”
Chapter Eight
Draco lay in his bed. wishing he had Wendy pressed against him. No. He shook his head; this was his future wife’s bed. He couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—bring Wendy into it. But still, to climb into her bed might be nice. Amazingly enough, considering the way he had spent the night before with her hot body causing havoc on his libido, he wasn’t even thinking about sex. After the day they’d had, he just wanted to hold her close—
another odd desire for him.
If he concentrated, he could hear her heart beating as if she was next to him and not in the room down the hall. Calling the sound into his mind, he could pretend she lay beside him, and if he rolled over, he could wrap an arm around her sleeping shoulder and pull her close. Of course, if he actually attempted this the only thing he’d be drawing close would be his pillow.
Rubbing his hand over his face, he wondered if he’d get more sleep or if he might as well get up and give up the frustration of trying. It had been a hell of a day. There was no way to repair the building. The engineer, who had shown up almost as fast as the emergency crews, had told him it was going to have to come down. If the insurance paid for it, all would be fine. If it didn’t … .
He let out a frustrated breath. If it didn’t, then it was goodbye to Powers, Inc. His head throbbed at the thought. Goodbye to the business he had built from scratch; goodbye to the employees who counted on him for their livelihood and health insurance; goodbye
She took a deep breath, let it out, and then spoke. “It was transported.”
“Transported how? In a big truck?”
“No.” He didn’t watch the show; he wouldn’t know what she meant. “A transporter is a machine that moves things from one location to the next at the atomic level.”
“The thing that makes everything look wavy and then reappear somewhere else?”
She laughed. His description was so literal. “Ha. Well, yes, but I mean the graphics and the technology to make everything seem real wasn’t anywhere near what it is now. The movie that’s supposed to be coming out soon should appear more true to life … .”
He held up a hand and she realized she rambled. “But the point here is that you think that someone has actually invented this technology and now has the ability to transport matter over space.”
“That’s exactly it.” He’d just described the science behind it. Maybe he might actually like the show.
“You look like I just told you that you could eat all the chocolate you want and not gain weight.”
Now it was her turn to wave him off. “Who cares? No one ever notices me. I could gain five hundred pounds and no one would notice. I’m just thrilled because you aren’t dismissing me.”
“Wendy, I just rescued you from a twenty story metallic cat monster. Do you think I’m really in a position to be calling something crazy? This is the Organization we’re talking about here. They killed my last Handler and spent four years plotting this.
I think it’s entirely possible that anything is not beyond the realm of the plausible at this juncture.”
“So you’ll look into it then?”
He nodded. “I don’t know who I’m going to ask, but I’ll find someone.”
“Thank you, Draco.”
He stepped forward, pulling her into his arms for one last hug before he let go.
“Get some sleep. You’re safe here. No one in the world knows where we live and either Ace or I will always be with you.”
“Right.” Her heart fell as she realized he was leaving. What had she expected? He wasn’t going to spend the whole night in this room with her. It was nice enough that he was letting her stay.
Turning back one more time, he smiled. “By the way, I would notice if you gained five hundred pounds, Wendy.”
Chapter Eight
Draco lay in his bed. wishing he had Wendy pressed against him. No. He shook his head; this was his future wife’s bed. He couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—bring Wendy into it. But still, to climb into her bed might be nice. Amazingly enough, considering the way he had spent the night before with her hot body causing havoc on his libido, he wasn’t even thinking about sex. After the day they’d had, he just wanted to hold her close—
another odd desire for him.
If he concentrated, he could hear her heart beating as if she was next to him and not in the room down the hall. Calling the sound into his mind, he could pretend she lay beside him, and if he rolled over, he could wrap an arm around her sleeping shoulder and pull her close. Of course, if he actually attempted this the only thing he’d be drawing close would be his pillow.
Rubbing his hand over his face, he wondered if he’d get more sleep or if he might as well get up and give up the frustration of trying. It had been a hell of a day. There was no way to repair the building. The engineer, who had shown up almost as fast as the emergency crews, had told him it was going to have to come down. If the insurance paid for it, all would be fine. If it didn’t … .
He let out a frustrated breath. If it didn’t, then it was goodbye to Powers, Inc. His head throbbed at the thought. Goodbye to the business he had built from scratch; goodbye to the employees who counted on him for their livelihood and health insurance; goodbye
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