Saxon's Conquest Read online

  Micah started laughing. “Want to tell me the rest of the story?”

  “Oh, the part about how we hit it off and left the convention together? How we never got beyond exchanging first names? Or the part where we shared the best sex of my life?”

  “Yea, that part.”

  Saxon was saved from responding when someone announced from the podium that dinner was being served.

  “Come on, let’s find our seats.” Micah placed a hand on Saxon’s shoulder. “Don Juan senses a romance blooming. We’ll pick up where we left off in this conversation after dessert.”

  When they located their place cards, Saxon found himself sitting next to Micah and Madison, and across the table from Destry and Victoria. Hannah and the governor were farther down the table, sitting next to Jacob and Jessie McCoy. Hannah leaned in and waved to them all, mouthing the words that they’d ‘visit later’.

  “How is everyone?” Victoria greeted them.

  When it came to his turn to speak, Saxon nodded. “Nice to see you, Ms. Kraft. I’m good.”

  Truth be told, he’d been better. While a waiter served appetizers, Saxon stayed busy scoping out the crowd. Finally, his gaze moved down the side of one table and clashed with a beautiful pair of hazel eyes. They stared at one another for a brief eternity until she lowered hers and dismissed him. “What the hell did I do?” Saxon muttered to himself. He fiddled with his fork, vowing to get to the bottom of this frustrating situation he found himself in.

  “Have the police made any headway on Miss Nixon’s murder?” Madison asked as she eased to one side to allow a server to place a plate in front of her.

  “Not that they’re telling,” Destry reported. “I visited the police chief yesterday, and they’re playing this close to their chests.”

  “This new chief isn’t fond of Kyle, is he?” Micah asked, directing his comment to Destry.

  Destry took a sip of wine from his glass. “I don’t think there’s any love lost, but I don’t think it will get in the way of both men doing their jobs.”

  “I’m sure Mindy’s father would rather the Equalizers be more involved, poor man,” Victoria commented, placing her napkin in her lap with studied grace. “He trusts Kyle, and no one really knows Chief Banks.”

  “The chief has a good reputation, he was a decorated officer in Dallas,” Destry added, doing his part to ensure that all factions of the Austin government worked in tandem.

  Micah handed Madison the bread basket, so she could select a roll. “I don’t know. I heard he has a tendency to take matters into his own hands.”

  Saxon cleared his throat. “Oh, so you agree that taking matters into one’s own hands can lead to trouble. Right, Micah?”

  Micah didn’t miss Saxon’s sly insinuation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “This is another matter we’ll discuss after dessert, Wolfe.”

  “If I wanted your help with anything, Abbott, I’d ask for it.”

  “What’s going on?” Madison looked their way, her face full of concern.

  “Nothing, baby,” Micah assured her, before giving Saxon a hard look.

  “Well, this whole tragedy is devastating.” Victoria waved one well-manicured hand in the air. “So young. Such a waste.”

  “She was certainly beautiful, from the photos I saw on the television,” Madison murmured. “Didn’t she win a beauty contest of some kind?”

  “Yes, she did,” Victoria answered sadly. “She’d just won the title of Miss Travis County. I’m a director of the Miss Texas pageant, and she will be sorely missed.”

  “It seems like I heard of another young woman being killed over in East Texas yesterday.” Madison thought for a minute. “I don’t remember the circumstances, a burglary gone bad, or something.”

  “I think you’ve been spending too much time watching the news, beautiful.” Micah ran his hand underneath her hair to caress the nape of her neck.

  “I have to do something to entertain myself while you’re working, Micah.” She gave him a sweet smile. “Lately, this man won’t let me out of his sight. He follows me around the house and even accompanies me to the grocery store.”

  “What can I say? I’m crazy about you, Fellows.”

  “Let’s talk about something else, this is depressing,” Victoria said as she waved down a waiter to freshen her drink. “Anyone else need a refill?”

  Saxon was about to ask for one when he noticed Alivia rise from her chair. “Oh, no. Not before we talk,” he murmured softly. Rising, he excused himself. “Forgive me. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Before she could leave the room, he intercepted her. “Wait, Alivia.” He caught her by the arm, pulling her out on the balcony. “I’m glad we ran into one another tonight.”

  “I’m not. I’d hoped to never see you again.”

  Her cold tone shocked Saxon. “Oh, really? Is that why you challenged me to a swordfight today? Right before you invaded my privacy, Miss Pac-Man?”

  Alivia narrowed her eyes at him. “You deserved every bit of it.”

  Saxon sensed something was wrong, very wrong. He could see hurt in her eyes as well as anger. Where was this coming from? “Look, let’s take a step back. I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but I sure would like to see you again to make up for it.”

  Alivia rolled her big, beautiful eyes. “Yea, so you can duck out on me again?”

  The light was beginning to dawn for Saxon. “I was called away for an emergency. I didn’t want to wake you. I left my card on the pillow, and I asked you to call me.”

  Alivia froze, her pulse fast, afraid to hope. She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “I didn’t find a card.” Of course, she didn’t turn on the light either. That was beside the point. “It doesn’t matter; this is probably for the best. I don’t do relationships.”

  Catching her arm when she would’ve walked off again, he whispered against her ear, “Hey, I’m not proposing, but I certainly enjoyed your company.”

  Maybe she was being unfair, but Alivia couldn’t shake the suspicion. Twice burned. Forever shy. “Good thing. The only way a man will ever get an engagement ring on my finger is if I’m unconscious. Did you know wedding rings were once a sign of ownership? I belong to no one but myself.”

  Saxon exhaled harshly. “Calm down Gloria Steinem, I’m not threatening your liberated status or your marital one, for that matter.”

  She jerked away from him. “As if you could.”

  Okay. Saxon was beginning to think some things just weren’t worth the trouble. “I guess you chose your Conquest character name well, Miss Paine.”

  “How juvenile, Saxon.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you around.”

  “Not if I see you first.” Saxon turned away, unwilling to watch her leave. “Whatever,” he mumbled as he headed to the table where someone was accepting the donation checks. After writing a sizeable one, he left the hotel, choosing to blame the hurt in his gut on the meal he’d barely tasted.

  Outside, Alivia leaned against a pillar waiting for the valet to bring her car. She watched Saxon hail a cab. He looked upset. Good, now he knew how rejection felt. As the vehicle pulled out of the drive and disappeared down the street, she placed a hand on her chest. Her heart ached, it literally ached. What if she’d made a mistake? What if he did leave his card, and she’d just destroyed something precious?

  Alivia hung her head and closed her eyes. “You’ve made your bed, girl. You’ll just have to learn to like sleeping in it.”

  Once she was on the road and headed east to Hutto, the only bed on her mind was Saxon’s.

  And she wished like hell she was lying in it with him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Alivia…Alyx…” Saxon murmured as his head tossed on the pillow. He could hear her laughter, and he could see her running ahead of him, darting behind trees. If only he could catch her, but his feet felt like lead, and his footsteps seemed to be mired in molasses. God, she was so beautiful. “Wait!” He wan
ted her. Again.

  His hand moved from where it was resting on his chest to collide with his erect and swollen cock. With a moan, Saxon grasped his shaft and began to work it up and down. The pleasure he felt made his legs shift restlessly, and his hips press into the mattress. Awareness dawned in his mind as he picked up the pace of his pumps, opening one eye just a fraction. Wince. “Fuck! Holy Mother of…Jehoshaphat!”

  Saxon let go of his cock to pull the covers over his head. “I’ve got to buy some damn curtains.” His bedroom faced northeast, and the room was painted a startling shade of sunny yellow. Not his choice, he’d bought a fully decked-out model home. With one wall made entirely of glass, the first peek with his baby blues could prove painful in the harsh light of day. “I must be part vampire.”

  By the time he gathered enough courage to face the too bright morning, his cock had given up on him. “Sorry, buddy. Maybe next time.”

  Next time. Alivia.

  “Shit. Women. I’m gonna get a dog.” He thought of Kyle’s beast and smiled. “Yea, a big dog.” Even better, he might create a dog sidekick in Conquest. He was sure any canine companion would beat the humanoid ones he’d run into lately.

  Squinting his eyes against the painfully cheery glare, he made his way to the adjoining bathroom. Since he hadn’t lived in the house very long, he still found himself standing in the middle of the spa-like room, trying to find the water closet. It was on the opposite side of the space from the one where he used to live. One night, he’d fumbled around in the dark, hunting the commode and came to his senses just before he’d taken a piss on his shoes in the huge closet. Making a sharp right, he pushed his way into the small space, only big enough for the toilet, the bidet, and a towel warming rack. Propping his hand on the wall, Saxon let it fly, keeping one eye slightly open to make sure he hit the target.

  Once he finished and flushed, he turned sleepily, scratching his chest and went to the walk-in shower to turn on the water, cursing the architects for their stupidity. The shower was big, big enough for one man and a quartet of women, but to turn the water on and adjust it, you had to step in the shower through one glass door, walk to the right, flip the levers, then try to back up and step out before the cold water pinged you with sharp icy chips of unwelcome liquid. Why couldn’t they put duplicate controls outside the shower, so a person wouldn’t have to get doused before the temperature was perfect?

  Padding over to sink, he turned on the water and splashed his face, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t intend to shave today. He liked the scruffy look. Leaning on the counter, he glanced around his bathroom. There was a duplicate vanity to the one he was using across the way, situated on the other side of a huge soaking tub. This bathroom, like the whole house, was big enough for a family of four or more. Sometimes he just rattled around in the space like a lone marble in a cardboard box. Letting out a disgusted puff of air, he grabbed a towel from the warming rack and hung it over the shower and crawled in to wash his troubles away.

  By the time he was clean, and dressed for the day, his stomach was growling. After taking exactly thirty-five seconds to straighten his bed, he left the master suite to cross the living area to reach the kitchen. The downstairs, apart from the bedrooms, washroom, and a half bath was one big open space – living, dining, landing, and a downstairs office that he used as a wet bar area. His kitchen was a gourmet cook’s dream with plenty of counter space, oodles of shelves, granite surfaces, and top of the line appliances. Pity he didn’t like to cook.

  After pouring himself a bowl of raisin bran, he sat at the bar and ate, reminding himself he wanted to install a copper foot railing on the bar side of the island. Yea, he was lazy, why let your legs hang down when you could prop them up.

  While he munched on cereal, he let his mind wander. There were always things he could be doing. Besides his work with the Equalizers, he did consulting work with various governmental agencies. He was also in the process of designing other video games via a contract he’d signed with an up-and-coming studio. Two of the most promising projects he was delving into featured relatively unexplored genres. One played with the idea of alternate history and explored everything from a victorious Hitler, to the thwarting of JFK’s assassination. He loved history and ‘what if’ scenarios, so this was proving to be an easy task. The clincher for him was that it featured the Equalizers themselves in the role of time-traveling heroes, each using their own strengths and talents to solve the crimes of the centuries. The other game was turning out to be more of a challenge. Set just after the Civil War, he wanted to explore the mindset of soldiers who left the battlefield to return to a land that was forever changed. He created a band of brothers, so to speak, leaving their battle ravaged homes in Tennessee and moving to the savage frontier of Texas. He called it Wild West and the game contained everything from battles with Indians to run-ins with bandoleros. Points and ranking were obtained, not only through kills and accumulation of treasure and weapons but also through problem-solving and relationship building.

  Relationship building.

  Maybe this was his problem.

  Lately, he seemed to be clashing with everyone, even his steadfast friends in the Equalizers. What once was a cohesive group was turning into a hive of uncertainty, each of them striving to find new footing and a new leader. “Dammit.” Despite his aptitude for discovery, he didn’t like change.

  And he hated when seemingly good things went to shit without any warning.

  Like with Alivia. So, she didn’t find his card. Which meant, she left the hotel under the impression he’d walked out with no intention of ever seeing her again.

  The whole woman scorned thing.

  “Hell, why should I even care?” He rose from the bar chair to put the white pottery bowl in the dishwasher and the spoon in the cutlery rack. After assessing the fact that it would take him another week to accumulate enough dirty dishes for a full load, he added a detergent pod and pressed the appropriate buttons to turn the fancy appliance on.

  “But I do want to see her again,” he whispered to himself like it was his own dirty little secret. Truth was – the sex had been great. Stellar. Mind-blowing. The best he’d ever had. More than that, he’d felt a kinship with the woman, a recognition. They were two of a kind. On the same wavelength. How often did he meet a woman who could really understand how his weird brain worked?

  Not often, but Alivia had.

  And now he knew she was more than just a woman who loved video games. She was frickin’ A. G. Hart! Someone he greatly admired. The knowledge made the loss seem even greater. “Christ.” A. G. Hart. Needing to know more, he headed upstairs to the media room.

  Saxon was a force in the cyber community, but he was also a loner. He’d heard talk of the brain behind the now infamous project, the one that created a neural lace, enabling a person’s brain to interface directly with computers. This neural link would enable people to have direct access to a system processing power, and even allow for memories to be downloaded into storage. There was an immense upheaval over the matter, many movers and shakers were coming down on one side or the other, some even taking the stance that artificial intelligence was one of the greatest threats to mankind, that by creating such a digital super-intelligence, people would eventually become mere house pets to their machines.

  As he settled into his rolling chair, Saxon tried to reconcile the warm, sexy woman he’d held in his arms to the cyber genius who manipulated code to create a machine that could solve problems more efficiently than an army of geniuses. It was a daunting idea to know a person could fashion an entity with a higher degree of intelligence than they possessed themselves. With a wry smile and a laugh, he admitted to himself that many parents of gifted children probably felt that way – including his own.

  Settling in front of one of the machines, he did a search for Alivia Hart, then A. G. Hart, accumulating very little information as he went. “Something else we have in common.” A craving for privacy. The one thin
g he did find was what Micah had told him about, Alivia’s work with the police in uncovering the Infinity killer. She did it using another computer program she’d written called Dragnet. This program interfaced with social media, the internet in general, and facts already known to the public through police and government databases. To put it simply, A. G. Hart was building software to identify trends in unsolved murders using data nobody had focused on before.

  As he did his research, Saxon found an email for her company, the Oracle. Clicking on the Compose button, he typed a few sentences without thinking too much about it. He was just about to reach out to her when another of his screens came to life, and Micah appeared. “Sax.”

  Saxon covered his face. “Don’t do that, Wolfe! You scared the shit out of me. Can’t you knock?”

  Micah frowned. “We keep an open line; I thought I was always welcome.”

  “Sheesh.” Saxon scrubbed his face. “What’s up?”

  “Head to Houston, Sami’s in the hospital. The baby’s coming, and Jet’s asking for you.”

  Saxon didn’t wait for Micah to sign off. He sprung up, grabbed his keys and headed out. “Hang on, big guy, I’m on my way.”

  * * *

  Saxon made the drive from Austin to Houston in record time. A trip that usually took two and half hours was made in two. Flat. He whipped onto Fannin Street, breaking the speed limit, weaving through cars amidst a sea of honks and middle fingers. “Fucking Houston Traffic.” Austin might be the state capital, but Houston was huge and sprawling. Even the traffic jams were different. More tangled. More aggressive. “Hell, I got to get through!” He added his own horn to the mix. Saxon needed to get to Hermann Texas Medical Center pronto. Sami was already in labor, and Jet would never forgive him if he missed the blessed event.

  He ripped into the parking lot to begin trolling up and down the rows of parked cars, stress eating away at him while he continuously glanced at his watch. “What the fucking hell?” He wondered what people did in actual emergencies when they needed to park at the hospital.