Meltdown Read Free

tailored suit was admirably demure, but it clung to curves that were anything but. And the dark eyes he’d glimpsed behind her glasses were definitely worth another look. Underneath that prim disguise she was probably an attractive woman. Too bad she was also certifiably crazy. “No offense, Miss Rollins, but the greatest minds in the world have tried to develop a computer that mirrors human thought processes.Are you saying you’ve succeeded where they failed?”
    “Yes,” she said, glancing at him.
    For a long moment their gazes met. Her eyes were gray, Chris noted, gray like soft, twisting smoke. Inwardly, he reeled. Eyes like that had more to do with sorcery than circuitry. They disturbed him, rocking something deep and primitive inside him. He wanted—no, he needed to reach out and touch her. He lifted his hand.…
    “Miss Rollins, I haven’t got all day,” Duncan said. “Is that laptop supposed to be your thinking computer?”
    “Er, yes,” she said, pulling her gaze away from Chris and facing his father. She set down the case and opened the lid, keeping her attention firmly focused on her creation.
    Duncan looked at the computer. “Young lady,” he said, frowning, “this is an ordinary three-hundred-eight-six-powered laptop computer. I could find it in any department store.”
    “Not with my modifications, you can’t. Of course, this is only a port …” she said, starting to explain about her invention. Duncan studied the laptop, but Chris studied her face. Her precise features, stone hard a moment before, had come alive with an inner excitement that completely changed her appearance. Her mouth in particular drew his attention. Full lipped and touched with just a hint of gloss, its sweet shape was to kisses what a flower is to bees: an irresistible invitation.
    “Chris. What’s the matter, son?”
    “Headache,” Chris mumbled, grateful his father’s harsh words had brought him back to reality. He looked at the laptop, deliberately keeping his eyes away from Miss Rollins’s bewitching mouth. Best get his mind back on business—fast. “If this is the port, where’s the CPU?”
    “In my house. I link them by phone.”
    “Your house?” Duncan said. “You have an electronic brain in your home? What did you do, tinker it together one afternoon in your garage?”
    “No. My spare bedroom.”
    The older Sheffield shook his head. “Forgive me,” he said harshly, “but that’s ridiculous. No one can create that kind of technology on their own.”
    The light went out of the woman’s eyes, and her features hardened into their former wooden expression. Chris watched her sensual mouth pull into a hard, defensive line, feeling her hurt almost as if it were his own. His father was about as subtle as a steamroller. Couldn’t he see he was crushing her?
    Chris stepped to her side. “Dad, think about it. Steve Jobs built the first Apple computer in his garage. It wouldn’t hurt us to look at Miss Rollins’s demonstration, would it?”
    She looked up at him, more surprised than grateful. Obviously she wasn’t used to people coming to her assistance. A tinge of guilt pricked Chris’s conscience. She deserved a better defender than a man who was more interested in her mouth than her machine. He put his emotions aside, determined to think of her in a completely professional, asexual manner—then caught his breath at the sight of her bending over to plug the power cord into the wall socket. He’d been right about those curves.
    When everything was ready, Miss Rollins pushed the laptop in front of the seated Duncan. “He’s waiting for you. Type something. Pretend you’re talking to another person, and type the words.”
    Duncan poised his hands over the keyboard, but stopped. “Chris, you’re better at these modern things than I am. What should I say?”
    “How about ‘Hello, Computer.’ ”
    “Einstein,” she corrected. “His name is Einstein.”
    A good name for an intelligent