Page 71 of CHOICE Lover
She brightens considerably. “Reading!”
“Reading what?” he asks, mostly out of scientific curiosity. While manupartners are programmed with the ability to read all six of the most common languages since reading is often necessary for their owner’s tasks, manupartners don’t typically read for fun. It’s most likely a side effect of her jealousy trait and proximity to Electra.
“Some sort of instruction manual, I think,” Chryl answers, nose wrinkling.
Electra’s gaze snaps up, and she muffles a laugh as she eyes the other woman. “What are you wearing?”
Chryl frowns, assessing herself. “I asked DumBot to give me an outfit recommendation for a naughty book nerd from the early 2000s. This is what it suggested.”
“You look like Britney Spears,” Electra says.
A second later, a video pops up in his chat, which he also assumes shows on Chryl’s display as the manupartner’s eyes widen.
Chryl gasps. “Why is this child wearing my outfit?”
Res6 returns his attention to the video, in which an oversexualized teenage girl dances provocatively. Frowning, he closes the window.
Chryl must sense his disapproval, because she says, “Great. This entire outfit is wasted.”
She gets up and tosses the tablet onto the couch, shooting Electra a glare.
“I thought you were reading?” Electra prods, smirking.
“That instruction manual was boring. Besides, I already know all the positions described. When you’re ready, handsome, I’ll show you.” Chryl winks at him and slips into his room, presumably to change.
When he looks back, Electra has the discarded tablet in one hand, and is trying to hide a broad grin behind the other.
“Do I even want to know?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.
Electra waggles the tablet. “Res6, why are there dozens of romance books downloaded onto your system? I thought you said you don’t read romance books. Just mine.”
He shoots to his feet as mortification reddens his cheeks. “That file was labeled private!” He rushes around his desk to snatch the tablet containing the damning evidence proving that he may have formed somewhat of an addiction to Electra’s books and possibly others like them. “It’s your fault!”
She dances away before he can get to her. “After our previous conversation, I suspected you’d like erotica, but these are swoon-worthy historical romances.”
“I wanted to know what a duke was. Please give me the tablet,” he begs, chasing her.
She stops on the opposite side of his desk, giggling. “This one is calledRomance for Romeo.” She wipes tears from her eyes. “Here’s another calledDuke Theodore’s Tempestuous Touch. This cover—you gave it five stars.” Losing herself in a fit of laughter, Electra folds over, clutching the tablet to her stomach.
He darts around the desk, but as he reaches for the tablet, she spins, effectively wrapping his arms around her from behind. He grips her waist, and she leans back into his chest. The fresh lilac scent of her hair must be the reason he buries his face in the inviting skin beneath her ear and inhales like an animal, much in the same way Duke Theodore did to Lady Catherine. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he growls into her neck.
She glances over her shoulder, and their noses nearly brush, which sets his pulse racing. “Too late.”
Their eyes meet. The heat swirling in her wide pupils draws him closer. Confusing yet not unwelcome emotions surge to the forefront of his emotional landscape—longing and something more menacing. He pulls her closer. The way her soft curves mold so perfectly againsthim has his mind racing in dangerous directions. Zorg, he’s going to miss this when she hates him. He really shouldn’t let this go any further.
With a slow breath, her eyes flutter closed. Damn if he doesn’t feel like a romantic hero. He’s powerless to stop himself, and it’s only a kiss. His heart skips as he reaches up, coaxing her chin toward him. Their lips brush—
A throat clears. “Am I interrupting something?” Chryl says.
Shit. He didn’t even hear the door open.
Electra stiffens, and at that moment he determines the manupartner is getting recycled at the next available opportunity. Electra giggles, moving out of his arms, and waves the tablet at him. He steps forward, compelled as though she wields the full power of the MagTrack and he’s merely a SAT drawn to her charge.
“There’s something in here you need to see,” Chryl barks.
Stupid jealousy trait. He doesn’t take his eyes off Electra. “Not now, Chryl. Go back to your room.”
She huffs. “There’s something wrong with the thing”—her eyes widen comically—“in the closet—”
