Nightbound by Lynn Viehl Read Free Book Online Page B

to ask, “Did your parents raise you in an environment with an emphasis on religion?”
    “If I wanted to screw a computer, Aly,” he’d told her as he’d jerked on his clothes, “I’d have borrowed one from the lab.”
    After that, Alys had stopped engaging the opposite sex; being found less than a desirable partner had inflicted feelings of inadequacy for which she had no use. Her inability to form emotional bonds with others seemed to be an integral part of her disposition. Since she could no more change who she was than she could have told the computer geek that she loved him, Alys accepted her partner’s rejection and moved on.
    In the years since she’d left college, Alys had learned to be less analytic and more personable in public. Now around others she kept her thoughts to herself while imitating those social behaviors that allowed her to function successfully within most groups. Until tonight, when Beau York had barged into her room, and knocked her to the floor.
    Why can’t I stop thinking about him?
    It wasn’t merely the ghost of his voice, whispering in her head. If the handsome Brit could distract her this much from her work, then his presence at the site would probably reduce her female interns into a pack of fawning little acolytes. Brenda, whose interest in the opposite sex was already a little too well developed, would likely spend the entire four weeks scheming her way into the man’s tent.
    Something twisted in her middle as Alys imagined finding her student sleeping with Beau.
Is that how he manages things? By seducing coeds?
    “Dr. Stuart?” Chan had to repeat her name two more times before she looked up to see him holding out the receiver. “It’s some English guy.”
    “Again?” She noticed how tired the intern looked, and checked her watch. “Goodness, it’s almost dawn, Chan. Go get some sleep. I’ll take care of this.”
    Alys waited until the student left before she spoke into the phone. “Look, Mr. York, I thought I was clear.”
    “Good evening, Dr. Stuart.” The caller was English, but his melodic voice sounded nothing like Beau York’s. “This is Richard Tremayne. I do hope I am not disturbing your rest.”
    “Mr. Tremayne.” Alys had never spoken directly to the chairman of the Hylord Foundation, and for a moment she blanked. “Ah, no, I haven’t been to bed yet.” Why was he calling her? Not to check on the arrangements. “How may I help you?”
    “I gather you met my man York earlier this evening,” Tremayne said, “and refused to permit him to join your project. May I ask why you found him so objectionable?”
    Beau had called Tremayne? That seemed unlikely. How could a project manager have direct access to the foundation’s chairman? And why would he?
    “Dr. Stuart?”
    Alys couldn’t very well interrogate Tremayne, nor did she want to cause trouble for Beau. She certainly couldn’t tell the chairman of the Hylord Foundation that his employee’s voice had shaken her down to her heels.
    Be professional.
“I have nothing against Mr. York, sir. He seemed like a very congenial and capable person. I simply don’t need him.”
Or his beautiful body. Or his gorgeous face. Or that stupendous erection.
    Tremayne’s voice went flat. “Doctor, you are aware that my foundation has invested close to half a million U.S. dollars in your project.”
    Of course he’d bring up the money; it was the only power he had over her. “Yes, sir, and I am grateful for the opportunity to—”
    “Given the number of charlatans and scoundrels operating under the guise of scientific research,” Tremayne continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, “I have a keen interest in protecting my investments. York will assure that everything at the site runs smoothly and according to schedule.”
    Alys had tried to avoid maligning Beau, but now his boss was giving her no choice.
    “Mr. Tremayne, you do understand how highly specialized my work is. Mr. York isn’t an archaeologist,