Cyborg Read Online Free PDF Page B

was turned.

    His hand felt warm as it skated over her back, brushing her hair from her neck.
    She tensed, trying to ignore the tingles of warmth that spread through her. Again, he rubbed the cold gel into her skin. The smell of burning flesh stung at her nostrils as he made the incision and extracted the second locator. She made an abortive attempt to rise when she realized he’d closed the wound. He placed a hand on her back, silently commanding her to remain as she was. Reluctantly, she desisted.
    Discomfort assailed her as he ministered to her wounds. It was not the discomfort of pain, however. She would almost have welcomed that as something to focus on at this point, for, lying face down on the gurney, her other senses sharpened and she was more acutely conscious of the strength and warmth of his hands, and the surprising gentleness of his touch even than before. Desperate to close her mind to the effect he was having on her senses, Amaryllis squeezed her eyes shut, only to discover that that made things even worse. Something tightened and fluttered in her belly, spreading warmth throughout her body. Her heart rate kicked up a few notches so that it was a struggle to try to regulate her breathing to anything even approaching normal.
    He had to have noticed her distress.
    She saw, once he’d finished and told her to sit up, that he was no more unfazed than she was. As unfamiliar as she was with the look of desire in a man’s eyes, as certain as she was that cyborgs would know nothing about human passion, what she saw when she finally nerved herself to meet his gaze was as unmistakable as her own erratic heartbeat and instantly recognizable because it reflected her own needs.
    With an effort, she redirected her thoughts as he finished his examination, trying to decide whether he’d realized she was human and, if so, what the possible repercussions might be.
    It was difficult, to say the least, with him standing so close, with the touch of his hands on her thighs as he examined the wounds there.
    “Why do they call you Rios?”
    Amaryllis gaped at him, mentally kicking herself. Shit! Why hadn’t she considered when she manufactured the lie that she might have to explain it?
    She managed a credible shrug of unconcern. “My family is--uh--were terra farmers on a world that used their family names since it was too under populated to create a problem. Or, at least, that’s the memories I was given, according to what that other cyborg said. But I guess it’s because Rios is--or was--such a commonplace name and I am--pretty average.”
    His dark gaze swept over her in a leisurely appraisal that seemed to miss nothing.
    She thought she’d become immune to self-consciousness about her nudity, but blood was pounding in her cheeks by the time he met her gaze once more. “They lied.”
    She blinked. “What?”
    “You are small, not average, in stature and build.”
    The comment angered her. The cyborgs were superior specimens, so she supposed she could see why he might consider her less than perfect, but she figured she was fairly average for a human--alright a little less than that, but then she’d had medical problems that had probably contributed to stunted growth.
    “Your features are exotic, not common--your body far better than average. You are a beautiful, desirable woman and there is nothing at all common about that, even in this age of genetic manipulation in the search for perfection.”
    Amaryllis wouldn’t have thought it possible to blush any harder, but she did. She stared at him speechlessly. She decided, finally, that it was just as well. The more she said, the deeper the hole she seemed to dig for herself.
    She couldn’t think straight, and she no longer had the comfort of thinking it was purely shock or even fear.
    He’d analyzed her and expressed an opinion, she realized finally. Cyborgs weren’t supposed to have them. She could understand the comment about her not being average. As hard as she