Adam by Eve Langlais Page B

lost more than just a purse tonight if not for his intervention.
    It took only moments before he gave the signal. “Your place looks clean. You can come in now.”
    Clean? He’d obviously not peeked under her furniture where dust bunny families thrived. With not a small amount of sarcasm, she said, “Thanks for inviting me into my own home.”
    An unrepentant grin graced his lips. “Sassy. I like it.”
    And with his flirtatious words, her irritation disappeared—in regards to him at least. Adam didn’t give the orders that forced him on protective detail, just like he couldn’t help his beliefs that criminals deserved just punishment.
    In a sense she believed the same thing. Crime should have penalties, but what about those forced to go against the laws? What about those whose only fault was their very existence, an existence not wanted by society?
    In case it took pointing out, she wasn’t talking about children of ghettos or broken homes. When she thought of those unwanted and persecuted simply for existing, she meant the cyborgs.
    Laura never forgot that day years ago in the lab when soldiers shot the unarmed man.
    But his wasn’t the only death that haunted her. She couldn’t un-see the video footage of the culling of cyborg ranks, a pirated video that went viral on the Internet showing the military slaughter of dozens of frozen soldiers whose only crime was the chip in their brain, a chip the military had installed.
    “Hunh?” It seemed while she woolgathered, Adam asked a question.
    “I said, is there any other access to your condo other than this door?”
    “The balcony, but given we’re about eight stories above ground, I doubt we can expect company via there.”
    “You never know. Grappling hooks and rappelling gear are easy to order.”
    “You really should work on your reassurance speeches,” she muttered as she peeled off her coat and boots.
    “I deal in reality, Doc, and that means facing the truth whether we like it or not.”
    “Well, at this moment, I’d rather worry less about facing the truth and more about getting into something comfortable.”
    Too late she realized how that sounded.
    “I like the sound of that.” As he eyed her head to toe, his gaze lingering in between, her cheeks heated. It wasn’t the only part of her warming up.
    “Um, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back in a bit, and we can order in some food.”
    He headed her off before she made it to her bedroom. “I need to check in here first.”
    As he prowled her space with its unmade bed, clothes scattered on the floor, and general disorder, she felt a need to explain. “I’ve been kind of busy lately and have let the place get kind of messy.”
    Turning to face her, Adam grinned and his blue eyes shone. “I’ll admit this is fascinating. The fastidious doctor in the lab is a slob.”
    “I’m not a slob,” she protested even as she grabbed at a pair of glasses lying on top of her dresser, which boasted empty panty hose packages, two antiperspirants, and, damn it, was that mold growing in that coffee cup?
    He arched a brow.
    Her nose wrinkled. “Okay, maybe I’m a little messy.”
    His smile widened.
    “Okay a lot. But don’t tell me you’re Mr. Clean. Or are you? If you’re going to hang around here for a few hours, feel free to tidy up.” Hopefully wearing fewer layers. Starting with him stripping off that long-sleeve shirt and—
    Mashing her glasses on her nose brought her world back into sharp focus. It also enabled her to clearly see the man before her. “Is that blood on your sleeve?” Noting the dark patch on his arm, she reached out to touch it, only to have him angle away.
    “Just that tiny scratch I mentioned. Nothing to worry about. I don’t feel a thing.”
    She frowned. “You really should clean that.”
    “I will as soon as I check the rest of your place.” Pivoting on his heel, he popped into her bathroom for a moment, checked her closet—a brave task given things sometimes had