Steamrolled Read Online Free PDF Page B

The slight British inflection he’d acquired from his mother upped the geek in his words and tone, and color burned across his cheekbones. He couldn’t blame it on the nanites or Delilah. It was all him.
    “My brother’s into steampunk.”
    Her lips pressed together on the p and he almost gave into the impulse to touch them. His fingers curled into fists instead. He might have the experience of a geeky sixteen-year-old, but he didn’t have to act like it.
    “And you? What are you into?” He blinked at the tone of his voice, at the pitch of it. Both were…provocative, something he’d never been, even before the break.
    She chuckled. “I like steam.”
    Since they were surrounded by engineered steam, that statement shouldn’t have upped the heat factor inside him quite so much.
    “Just steam?” He was steaming like a real guy. A little help here? With some reluctance the nanites brought his core temperature back down to almost normal. You missed a spot.
    We are not miracle workers.
    He could be wrong, but he thought they snickered.
    She shrugged, the movement not helping him with his spot.
    “I like engines, too. It’s in my blood. And I might be a bit fond of steampunk, too.” She hesitated. “So. The museum.”
    It wasn’t a question, but there were question marks in her eyes. Robert didn’t know women, but he did know question marks. What he didn’t know was how to explain their interest in a way that would erase those questions marks. They’d assumed they wouldn’t need to. Museums were open to the public, either for free or for a fee. One did what was required and went in, no explanations necessary. They’d thought wrong, but it was too late to produce a cover story now. He felt a sense of caution, about saying too much, or saying anything.
    Always better to let the other person do the talking.
    “A very curious quartet.” She turned, heading toward the service counter. “That’ll be six dollars.”
    Ric, who had started to follow her, stopped. “Six dollars?”
    “One-fifty each.” She bent and set a hand-written, cardboard sign on the countertop so they could read it. As museum signs went, it wasn’t great, but it had the basics: cost and hours, which were the same as the bowling alley. “I won’t make you wait, if you were worried about it.”
    None of his companions looked worried before or after her offer. Everyone but Fyn blinked.
    “We appreciate that.” Robert tried out a smile. Had he ever smiled at a girl? Smiled at anyone?
    She smiled back, so he must have managed it. Or hers was a pity smile. Didn’t look like a pity smile—like he knew. He wanted to believe it wasn’t a pity smile. Though on reflection, her smiles seemed to have two settings, like a car’s headlights. They alternated between low and high beam. This one was high and potent. The nanites had to adjust his temperature again.
    “There’s a guidebook, too. Those are two dollars each. I printed them up myself.” Hopeful got mixed into the smile, with just a touch of wistful.
    As one, Fyn, Carey and Robert looked to Ric. With an interesting lack of expression, their team leader produced fourteen dollars for her.
    “We’ll take four. And I’ll need a receipt.”
    “You betcha.” She keyed the purchase into a cash register, which opened with a puff of steam, stowed the money and waited while it spat out a receipt, with yet another steam puff. It seemed she meant it when she said she loved steam. She handed it to Ric, along with four guidebooks, then nodded toward the back of the building. “The museum is this way.”
    As they turned to follow, Ric handed each of them a guidebook. Robert wanted to read it, but watching Emily walk away trumped that with surprising force. She walked away almost as well as she walked toward—though the coat hid a lot. Caught on a mental leash by the female sway of her body, Robert shelved his expectations, which turned out to be a good choice—or perhaps it was his only