Read Online Shepherd by KH LeMoyne - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: KH LeMoyne
Tags: Romance
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alongside the rear wall’s plasma panel. Live and shimmering, they reflected additional scenes of the surrounding areas beneath New Delphi’s grid.
Illuminated by bright neon lights, the merchant square perimeter reflected on one and a small back alley by a grid support beam on another. The final screen displayed piles resembling rubbish.
The silence and slow burn of Clay’s scrutiny made her turn around. He stood, arms crossed, his eyebrow arched. Tempted to question his choice in views, she held back, driven by strong internal satisfaction at achieving more ground. He didn’t have to let her in on everything, but the screens he offered must pose some value when combined with a 3-D schematic section of the sewage pipeline. She would discover what soon enough. For now, he permitted her to work and challenged her with the mission’s meatiest problem. More than enough to occupy her, for a while.
He snaked the virtual keyboard away from her and typed in her code name. “Most of my supplies in this facility are cataloged. If you find something you require, note it.” He skirted out of her way before she could touch him. Too intent on delving right into the problem, she allowed his escape without more questions.
She touched the intersection of the 3-D image, rendering statistics for the visible pipeline’s width and angles. After a second assessment of the kegs, she pulled the keyboard closer to search in his library for tools to alter the kegs’ appearance. It was unlikely there were many breweries in the area, but providing evidence that would lead the Regent guards to their doorway was counterproductive. Camouflage or building an eradication device worked in her book. Planning for both was safest.
She paused as she realized the error in her assumption. Perhaps not “her” doorway. She glanced over her shoulder at Clay’s back. His hands were busy between his three keyboards, notations on one screen and messages scrolling faster than she could read on another. His splayed legs were half crouched, prepared for movement in spite of his sedentary activity, and matched the tension in his broad shoulder muscles. Each twitch relayed the small measures of stress he seemed reluctant to release. Alertness registered in every gesture. Evidently, there was no taking the seasoned soldier out of the man. Oddly, despite Clay’s large silhouette and powerful potential for damage, Esme had never felt safer.
Eyes closed to erase his image and the restlessness it provoked, she turned back to her work. A muscular torso and strangely compelling allure weren’t reasons to lose her focus, though it was a totally new experience. Ivan had elicited no sensual response during all the ten years of their marriage. Perhaps she’d just been too young and inexperienced to understand how to handle her husband. More likely, he had been too much of an ass to bother with her.
Esme brushed her cheek against the shirt she wore. Clay’s scent lingered in his clothes, a light male musk, distinctive and heady. Had Ivan doused himself in pheromones, she doubted he would have elicited the same heated tingle along her skin. The memories of Ivan’s harsh, grating voice made her wince not hold her breath to hear more.
She released a sigh, turned back to the pipelines, and called up the half-barrel keg image on her screen. Swiping the 3-D rendering of the image to the hover in the air beside the pipelines, she pulled and manipulated the kegs’ design until she was satisfied with an aerodynamic prototype. A series of marks indicated where she would cut to elongate and bullet the end. Another small mark denoted the insertion point for the navigation and energy propulsion component required to maneuver the keg.
Now she needed a stable energy source for the detonation.
With a glance over her shoulder to confirm Clay was still entrenched in his activities, she edged toward the supply table and took more optic wire, the crystal powder, a solenoid, and
Illuminated by bright neon lights, the merchant square perimeter reflected on one and a small back alley by a grid support beam on another. The final screen displayed piles resembling rubbish.
The silence and slow burn of Clay’s scrutiny made her turn around. He stood, arms crossed, his eyebrow arched. Tempted to question his choice in views, she held back, driven by strong internal satisfaction at achieving more ground. He didn’t have to let her in on everything, but the screens he offered must pose some value when combined with a 3-D schematic section of the sewage pipeline. She would discover what soon enough. For now, he permitted her to work and challenged her with the mission’s meatiest problem. More than enough to occupy her, for a while.
He snaked the virtual keyboard away from her and typed in her code name. “Most of my supplies in this facility are cataloged. If you find something you require, note it.” He skirted out of her way before she could touch him. Too intent on delving right into the problem, she allowed his escape without more questions.
She touched the intersection of the 3-D image, rendering statistics for the visible pipeline’s width and angles. After a second assessment of the kegs, she pulled the keyboard closer to search in his library for tools to alter the kegs’ appearance. It was unlikely there were many breweries in the area, but providing evidence that would lead the Regent guards to their doorway was counterproductive. Camouflage or building an eradication device worked in her book. Planning for both was safest.
She paused as she realized the error in her assumption. Perhaps not “her” doorway. She glanced over her shoulder at Clay’s back. His hands were busy between his three keyboards, notations on one screen and messages scrolling faster than she could read on another. His splayed legs were half crouched, prepared for movement in spite of his sedentary activity, and matched the tension in his broad shoulder muscles. Each twitch relayed the small measures of stress he seemed reluctant to release. Alertness registered in every gesture. Evidently, there was no taking the seasoned soldier out of the man. Oddly, despite Clay’s large silhouette and powerful potential for damage, Esme had never felt safer.
Eyes closed to erase his image and the restlessness it provoked, she turned back to her work. A muscular torso and strangely compelling allure weren’t reasons to lose her focus, though it was a totally new experience. Ivan had elicited no sensual response during all the ten years of their marriage. Perhaps she’d just been too young and inexperienced to understand how to handle her husband. More likely, he had been too much of an ass to bother with her.
Esme brushed her cheek against the shirt she wore. Clay’s scent lingered in his clothes, a light male musk, distinctive and heady. Had Ivan doused himself in pheromones, she doubted he would have elicited the same heated tingle along her skin. The memories of Ivan’s harsh, grating voice made her wince not hold her breath to hear more.
She released a sigh, turned back to the pipelines, and called up the half-barrel keg image on her screen. Swiping the 3-D rendering of the image to the hover in the air beside the pipelines, she pulled and manipulated the kegs’ design until she was satisfied with an aerodynamic prototype. A series of marks indicated where she would cut to elongate and bullet the end. Another small mark denoted the insertion point for the navigation and energy propulsion component required to maneuver the keg.
Now she needed a stable energy source for the detonation.
With a glance over her shoulder to confirm Clay was still entrenched in his activities, she edged toward the supply table and took more optic wire, the crystal powder, a solenoid, and
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