Chapter 3
Aleks waited until the elevator doors slid shut behind Portia before he closed the door to his suite. He leaned his forehead against the cool metal and tried to corral the thoughts bouncing around his skull. Every scattered thought was a step closer to a raging headache or, worse, overload.
He pushed away from the door and stalked into the bathroom to grab his pain pills from his Dopp kit. They’d keep the headache away, or at least under control, so he could get through the day. He had a meeting today that he couldn’t—and didn’t want to—miss.
Shaking two tablets into his hand, he tossed them into his mouth. Swallowing them dry, he returned to the bedroom, grimacing at the bitter taste of the coating as it dissolved.
Light flickered behind his eyes. “Fuck.” Stripping to his boxers, he dropped to the floor. He crossed his legs and tried to sink into the meditative state that calmed his brain.
Fucking neural augmentation. The brain implant had promised faster reflexes and increased strength, skills that would have served him well on the Solveig Consortium security team. What a joke.
Instead, the implant had increased his analytical skills exponentially. He picked up languages easier. Solved problems faster. Which would have been great, if the “improvements” hadn’t come with debilitating side effects like the crippling headaches and overwhelming mental overload.
Settling into his body, not his brain, Aleks focused on his breath. In, hold, out, hold. That narrow focus gave his brain the anchor it needed to stop examining every possible angle of every possible decision. The rigid control was necessary to keep him from having a meltdown or doing permanent damage to his mind.
The hotel carpet was that weird combination of smooth and scratchy found in industrial carpets. The throbbing pressure increased as his brain automatically started comparing it to the carpet in other hotels he’d visited. With conscious effort, he recognized the thought and then envisioned letting it fly free. The pressure decreased a barely noticeable amount.
He’d washed out of the Solveig security program, but failed augmentation or not, the company had spent too much money on him to let him go. Instead, overlooking what they deemed his brokenness, they sent him out as a troubleshooter, using his skills but leaving him to manage the side effects alone.
Last night had tested his control. No, Portia Tremaine had tested his carefully crafted control. Fortunately, his brain and his body had been so focused on her that he’d maintained a delicate balance and hadn’t worried about headaches all night. He’d focused on cataloguing every nuance that made up Portia Tremaine—her soft skin, the breathy sighs she had made when he discovered a particular sensitive spot.
His breath sped up and his pulse followed suit.
Dammit. He needed to rebuild his control, not shatter it again. But banishing her from his thoughts was proving to be nearly impossible.
Portia Tremaine had been nothing like he’d expected. Sure, the Ice Queen had come out to play when a drunk patron had approached her table. Aleks had observed with interest as she eviscerated the man with her cold smile and sharp words. And that was all it had taken to gain the attention of the highly curious aspect that lived in his brain.
At least, that was his excuse for approaching her table, for daring to invade her space with a pithy comment judging her dismissal technique. She’d been startled, then intrigued. And he’d worked hard—harder than he had since the surgery—to keep up with the sharp mind and biting wit that lived behind her gorgeous exterior and terrible choice in clothes.
She’d been intelligent and funny, making it increasingly difficult to remember that she represented the Tremaine Corporation, a truly reprehensible company that would best serve the world by no longer existing. It was his job to make that happen.
The contradictory information—Portia’s positive traits and her company’s terrible actions—sent the pressure in his head skyrocketing. Focusing on his breath again, Aleks wondered if he would make it out of this assignment without permanent damage.
Until then, he’d hold the demons back one inhale and exhale at a time.