Page 22 of Operation Iron Heart

“I do that as well,” said Jack, giving her an opaque smile. “And yet I’m just a robot to you.”

Marci looked up at Jack, feeling stunned and momentarily lost for words. “Do you really think I see you as just a soulless machine?” The words burst from her, as she stood up and planted herself in front of him, visibly indignant.

“I am what I am,” he replied cryptically. “Or, to put it another way, I am what you make of me,” he continued. Feeling the heat of the sun streaming down, or simply because he wanted to charge his batteries, he removed his jacket.

“It’s a bit like little children seeing their cuddly toy as their best friend,” he continued with a rueful smile. “They talk to them and laugh with them because they’re convinced that their toy is alive and can think. And yet everyone else just sees a cuddly toy that looks droopy when you put it in the corner at the end of the day.”

“But you wouldn’t look droopy if I put you in a corner.” Marci smiled at him.

“How do you know?” he asked quietly, giving her a disturbingly intense look. “You’ve never tried.”

“OK then,” she said with an enigmatic smile, suddenly emboldened to find out how far Jack was prepared to go. “Get undressed and wait in the hot tub for me. Then we’ll see who’s the droopy one.”

Jack knew he’d gone too far. Too far for a robot, who was supposed to at least be giving the impression of obeying a human and certainly too far for his own sense of comfort. His emotional programming meant that he was as unable to control his physical reactions – at least where Marci was concerned – as a human man who felt a powerful hormonal surge upon seeing an attractive woman. Cathrin had repeatedly warned him about it, but until now he’d not met a woman who threatened his self-control. It was totally different with Marci.

Despite that, he did what she ordered and this demand, at least, was quick and easy to fulfil; it was a piece of cake for him to remove all his clothing in a few moments and then settle down in the hot tub, the warm water reaching his smooth chest. A far greater challenge was seeing Marci’s slim, gently rounded figure as she sashayed stark naked across the smooth marble tiles carrying two martini glasses, giving him a view that was most definitely going to blow his already overloaded fuses. She’d tied her sleek, red hair into a knot on her head that made her slim neck and shapely breasts even more delectable. And her tiny, sweet belly button – this fascinated Jack most of all. His designers had given him one, too, but like almost everything else on him, it was just for show and didn’t have any real function. He imagined pulling Marci to him and kissing her on that spot.

“Do you drink anything at all?” she asked, looking him directly in the eyes; she’d noticed he was staring at her and was trying to quash her embarrassment at her own nakedness.

“Of course,” Jack replied in a hoarse voice that, given the situation, sounded particularly human.

Marci handed him a glass and then, to both of their relief, lowered herself quickly into the bubbling water, temporarily delivering both her and him from her disconcerting view.

“Alcohol, too?” she asked curiously, sipping her cocktail seductively. He could sense her uncertainty and the fact that her confident manner was an attempt to disguise it. It was completely normal for her to be unsettled by their luxurious surroundings, never mind the task that awaited her. Should he exploit her uncertainty for his own benefit? Should he nurture even the tiniest hope that he might be able to impress her and ultimately replace Will?

“Why not?” replied Jack as if talking to himself, shrugging his powerful shoulders. “I have a completely normal digestive system, the difference being that its chemical constituents burn around ninety-five per cent of the energy so there’s rarely anything left to be excreted. It saves all those annoying trips to the toilet and helps me keep my figure.” He smiled cautiously. Great topic, he thought. Maybe he should also tell her that his blood was composed of ninety per cent renewable cell plasma, a liquid that is similar to human blood but is made in his artificial lab-grown liver, not his spine.

If he carried on blurting out facts about how his body worked, she’d end up more afraid of him than she already seemed to be.

“Do you get drunk?” As if to give herself courage, Marci took a large gulp of her martini and shivered briefly, clearly unused to the high alcohol content.

“No,” Jack smiled back at her and downed the martini in one go. “Unfortunately not.”

“Why unfortunately?” Marci finished her drink too, pleased to be able to put the glass to one side.

“Because I’d really like to know what it feels like to act irrationally and do something crazy,” he admitted, moving imperceptibly closer to her.

“I’m fascinated by people who never act irrationally, no matter what,” replied Marci, looking at him thoughtfully and giving him the blissful feeling that she was trying to pay him a compliment. “I’m the complete opposite. I rarely act rationally; I act from the heart instead. And then do the craziest things that I regret afterwards, but by then it’s too late.”

“Oh yes? Like what?” Jack had now moved close enough to her that he could touch her hand under the water and to his surprise, she didn’t move it away. Without waiting for her permission, he pulled her closer to him on the smooth seat until she was right next to him, their bodies gently touching.

“Like this,” she whispered, her brown eyes twinkling under the cloudless sky.

Jack felt her hand move from under his and slide between his thighs, taking hold of his member in a grip that was both tender and confident as if she’d done this countless times. He let her continue, observing with puzzlement that his primary processor had instantly created visible goosebumps over his whole body.

Marci had noticed too, stroking the index finger of her other hand over his chest and emitting a low whistle.

“Wow!” she whispered in amazement, drawing back slightly. “You’re really not a robot?”

“What would be so bad about that?” he asked, suddenly serious.

“Nothing,” she said hurriedly, looking slightly guilty. “It’s just…if I were to get involved with a robot, I wouldn’t feel that I was betraying Will.”

“So why are you doing this, then?” He knew it was a logical question to ask, even though it hurt to say it.

“Because I really want to be with a man. Will has been gone for more than six months and I’ve not once wanted to get involved with anyone, even though I’ve had plenty of offers and I’ve yearned to feel like a whole woman again.”

She paused and looked at him with trust in her eyes, giving him new courage.