Then he turned his attention to his daughter and Daisy flinched. He’d allowed himself a quick look earlier, when they’d first arrived. A look, she didn’t doubt, that had just about destroyed him. At a guess, he hadn’t realized until that moment what sort of effect such a tiny human being could have on him. Well, he’d found out, and then some. He teetered on the edge of losing it, something she wouldn’t allow to happen in front of so many witnesses.

“Aggie?” Daisy murmured. “Why don’t you and Jett go on upstairs and pick out rooms.”

“Would you like me to fix you a cup of hot tea before I go?” She spared Justice a warm smile. “I consider it the perfect restorative. No matter how upset I am, hot tea always makes me feel better.”

“Later, perhaps.”

The housekeeper’s gaze shifted from Justice to Noelle and she gave a brisk nod of understanding. That quick comprehension was one of the qualities Daisy most admired about the former schoolteacher. Without another word, she gathered up Jett, and the two slipped from the room. Justice continued to stand, rooted in place, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. He started toward her and then hesitated. His usual forcefulness deserted him, exposing an unsettling vulnerability.

“May I?” he asked with painful formality.

Daisy swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Of course. She’s your daughter, too.”

He approached Noelle and held out his hand. The move was so tentative and cautious it threatened to break Daisy’s heart. Noelle grabbed his hand with her usual impulsiveness and yanked it to her mouth for a taste. Not giving him time to withdraw, Daisy transferred their daughter from her own arms to his. And then she stepped back, watching a connection form that no computer interface could duplicate.

Ever so gently, Justice settled his daughter into his arms, cradling her as though she might shatter, his grip a trifle awkward. She responded by touching everything within reach. If she could grab it, it went into her mouth for a taste. If she couldn’t, her nimble fingers explored it as though attempting to discern how and why, where and what. And most important, whether she could take it apart.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured.

“Thanks. I’d say it was the luck of the draw. Somehow I suspect you’d say something about the expression of genetic information and the role of dominant versus recessive versus blending genes,” she dared to tease.

He glanced up, his eyes glittering with a hunger that threatened to bring her to her knees. How quickly it happened, that unbreakable bond that connected hearts and souls, parent to child. She caught the stamp of possession. The want. And even more, the need.

“Actually, I was about to say that she takes after you,” he said.

Simple and sincere and utterly unlike Justice. It could only be Noelle’s influence, and Daisy wished with all her heart that it wouldn’t stop there. “I’d say she was a perfect blend. Look at her, Justice. Her eye color is somewhere between yours and mine. Her hair is more strawberry than blond or ebony. She’s as extroverted as I am and as brilliant as you are.”

As though in response to the comment, Noelle beamed at her father, showing off eight pearly nubs.

“She has teeth already.” A slight frown creased Justice’s brow. “And you said she’s verbal. Can she walk?”

“Yes. She’s still a little unsteady on her feet, but that doesn’t stop her from getting to where she wants to go.”

“So much,” he murmured. “I’ve missed so much.” He passed a hand over her curls, stroked a creamy cheek with his fingertip. She crowed in delight, grabbing his finger and tugging it back to her face. “She’s not the least reticent.”

“No, she has a very outgoing personality. She’s never been at all clingy.”

“Is she naked for a reason?”

Daisy wondered when he’d get around to that. “I’m afraid your daughter doesn’t like wearing clothes. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s a little escape artist. I’ll turn my back for no more than two seconds and she’s wriggled out of whatever I’ve dressed her in. Cribs and high chairs don’t hold her. And forget about a playpen.”

“Huh.”

“What does ‘huh’ mean?” she asked suspiciously.

He ignored her question. “And the cupboards?” he asked. “Was that your housekeeper or our daughter?”

Daisy sighed. “Noelle,” she admitted.

“Huh.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “That’s twice you’ve ‘huhed’ your daughter and you still haven’t explained the first one, let alone the second. What do you know that I don’t?”

He hesitated, his eyes guarded, intensifying her level of concern. “My ‘huh’—both of them—indicate a familiarity and understanding of Noelle’s methods and thought processes.”

She didn’t bother to conceal her relief. “That didn’t take long.”

“No,” he murmured. “But then, there’s a reason for that.”

“Please,” she encouraged in a polite voice. “Don’t keep it to yourself or I might just grab one of the pots Noelle was banging and beat it out of you.”

Justice eyed her almost defensively. “I believe this might be the appropriate time to admit to a certain genetic propensity, one that I hope you’ll learn to accept over time.”

Her maternal instincts went on red alert. “You’re making me very, very nervous. Are you suggesting there’s something wrong with our daughter?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what? And I do mean exactly.”

“It’s not Noelle’s fault. It’s mine. It’s part of the genetic makeup she inherited from me. How her brain is wired.” He cradled Noelle tight against his body, very hard, the sweeping line of his posture telegraphing a clear protective impulse, one he’d no doubt deny if she dared point it out to him. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t hold it against her.”

“Hold it …” Daisy trailed off, stunned. “Dear God, Justice. Do you think I’d ever criticize our daughter for something as natural and basic as human curiosity? That I’d ever punish her for exploring her world and trying to figure out how it works?”

“Some people would. Some people would consider her flawed.”

Hurt ripped through her, catching in her throat and bleeding through her words. “I’m not some people. I’m Noelle’s mother. I adore her. I’d do anything for her. Sacrifice anything.”

Justice closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I apologize. It’s just …” He looked at her again, direct and unflinching, his eyes the color of tarnished gold. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

He made the statement so simply and resolutely, and yet with such unspeakable pain and vulnerability. Her heart ached for him. “Who did you see it happen to, Justice?” she asked gently. “You?”

He nodded. Once. “Noelle is processing her world by dismantling it,” he explained. He paused a beat. Gathered himself. “That particular characteristic got me kicked out of my first half-dozen foster homes.”

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t that. “Let me get this straight. Some of your earlier foster parents made you leave because you took things apart? Are you serious?”

“Quite.” He clenched his jaw. “I tried not to. I did. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. I imagine it became annoying when they’d get up in the morning, only to discover the coffeepot or toaster disassembled.”

“Then, why did you do it?”

“I needed to take things apart and study them in order to understand how they worked.” He made the statement as though it should have been obvious. “It was perfectly logical.”

Daisy hid a smile. “Of course it was. Assuming you could then put them back together.”

“That took a bit longer to master. Now that I think about it, your parents were the first to understand that.” A small frown creased his brow, as though the memory were an unwelcome one. “I’d forgotten until now. Your father actually encouraged my curiosity by finding broken-down lawn mowers and computers and car engines and letting me tinker.”

“I remember you had all these mechanical parts spread out over our entire garage,” she murmured. “Everything organized just so on counters and tarps and in jars. And heaven help anyone who dared move so much as a single nut or bolt.”

“And yet, you moved them all the time.”

Her mouth tugged into a mischievous smile. “Only because it made you react. You were always so self-contained. My parents constantly told me to leave you alone. To respect your privacy.”

“Not that you ever did.”

“I couldn’t,” she admitted with a shrug. “While you were busy tinkering with mechanical puzzles, I couldn’t resist deciphering a far more human one.”

“My mistake with your parents was that I didn’t confine my tinkering to the lawn mowers and computers and car engines.” Unmistakable want burned a path across his face. “I had to take you apart, too.”

Daisy sighed. “And some things, once taken apart, can’t be put together again.”

“Not the way they were before,” he agreed.

She approached like a moth to a flame, drawn to the circle of heat and light formed by Justice and their daughter. “I swear to you, I didn’t know they found out about us. I didn’t know that’s why you left. Why you were forced to go. I would have stood up for you if I had. I would have stopped them. Explained. Something.”

He shook his head. “You were fifteen. There was nothing else to explain. Nor would standing up to them have changed anything. What we did was wrong and I paid the price for dismantling you.”

“You shouldn’t have had to.”

“Yes, I should have. I realize that now.” He glanced down at his daughter. “What would we do if it were Noelle at fifteen? If someone dismantled her at that age?”

Her breath caught. Shivered in her lungs. She couldn’t begin to find the words to express what she felt and she could only stare at Justice in dismay.

“I agree,” he said softly.

“Oh, Justice.” Helpless. Hopeless. “What are we going to do?”

As usual, he had a plan. “First, I need to go downstairs and talk to Pretorius. He’s going to have difficulty with the changes.” Reluctantly, he handed over Noelle. “Afterward, I’d like to spend more time with our daughter, assuming that’s acceptable to you.”

“You don’t need my permission.” The fact that he felt he did distressed her. “You’re her father. I’m here because it’s important to me that you two bond.”

He stared at his daughter and all expression winked from his face. “She’s walking and talking, already. She has teeth. Are you certain it’s not too late?”

Tears pricked Daisy’s eyes. “No, Justice. It’s not too late. Not if you don’t let it be.”

His gaze locked with hers and he gave a quick nod. “Then I won’t let it be.”

Seven

Daisy supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that she couldn’t sleep. It had been a long day, full of emotion. She’d seen Justice again after what felt like an endless separation. And Justice had finally met his daughter. That first tentative moment the two shared still brought tears to her eyes whenever she thought about it. It was far too early to determine whether she and Justice could live together on a permanent basis, though considering his third condition she hoped they stood a chance. But, she didn’t have a single doubt he’d do everything within his power to be a father to Noelle. The bond she’d witnessed forming had been as immediate as it had been enduring.

She squirmed beneath the covers in an attempt to get more comfortable, but the glint of eyes from the corner of the nearly barren room snagged her attention. Kit was on the prowl. The cat slunk over to the bed and rumbled out a purr before leaping onto the mattress and giving Daisy a gentle head butt.

She scratched the cat behind the ears and was rewarded with another thunderous purr. “So, what do you think of the new digs?” she whispered.

Not that she’d disturb anyone, even speaking in a normal voice. Justice had built a sturdy, solid house, and she couldn’t help wonder if the impressive size stemmed from a subconscious imperative to fill it with a large family. Regardless, the walls and oak doors were heavy and thick enough that she could belt out Lady Gaga and they’d never hear her. Plus, Jett and Noelle had elected to “camp out” together in one of the massive bedrooms on the opposite side of the house, a room that overlooked a large pond, currently iced over and glittering with fresh fallen snow.

Instead of settling down at the end of the bed in her customary position, Kit’s ears pricked up and her head swiveled toward the door. Tension swept through her sleek body and she went into predator mode. Slipping off the mattress, she made a beeline from the room.

Curious, Daisy gathered up the ankle-length cotton nightgown she wore, the warmest of her options, and followed the cat. The chill of oak flooring beneath her feet caused her to shiver. She reached the main level in time to catch a glimpse of Kit darting into forbidden territory.

Uh-oh. Did Justice’s first condition—to keep everyone out of the basement—include the cat?

She hesitated at the top of the stairs leading to Justice’s bat cave, debating whether or not to sneak down after Kit. She doubted the cat would come to any harm. Still … Who knew what Justice kept down there? There could be automated vacuums that might suck up a poor, defenseless cat. Electrified fences. Even killer robots.

Admit it, she silently scolded herself. Just admit that she couldn’t sleep and wanted to talk to Justice to see if they had any chance at creating a lasting relationship. That she half hoped he would insist on giving her an intimate and thorough demonstration of Condition Three. Or she could confess she was dying of curiosity to take a peek at the forbidden. Concede the fact that she just couldn’t resist stepping over whatever lines he drew in the figurative sand and never had been able to.

She surrendered to the inevitable, knowing full well she wouldn’t sleep until she’d put a toe over that darned line of his.

Daisy reached the bottom step, that no-man’s land between her territory and his, and stood there. Though she suspected the lower level occupied the same space as the floor above it, the setup was vastly different. Much more high-tech. The overhead lights were off, while low wattage lighting along the floor reflected off blindingly white walls and a crisp, almost sterile corridor. Leaning forward from the safety of the bottom step, she peered down a dimly lit hall to her right. Doorways sealed tightly shut led to mysterious rooms that she itched to explore.

“Now how did I know you’d break Condition One before the day was even over?”

Daisy jumped and her head jerked to the left. She wobbled on the step, catching her balance at the last possible second. “I haven’t broken your condition.” She offered an abashed grin. “Not yet.”

He’d approached so silently she hadn’t heard him. The subdued lighting of his underworld lair cast interesting shadows across his face, giving him a forbidding appearance. Okay, a more forbidding appearance. And yet for all that she found him appealing in the extreme. But then, she always had. She’d never understood it, never been able to adequately explain it. She just knew from the moment she first set eyes on the man he’d been the only one who did it for her on every possible level.

When Justice had left to go to college—or not to college, as she now knew—it had taken her years to get over what she’d assumed was an infatuation, that indelible mark left by her first love and lover. There had been other men in her life since, a select few. But they’d never stirred her the way Justice had. Never ignited that fierce fire that had quieted over the years, but never quite been doused. And since the night Noelle had been conceived, it had only grown worse. Intensified. Made her realize what they had was special and unique. More, she realized she wanted to be with him for as long as he’d allow it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, the prosaic question making her smile.

“I’m on a rescue mission. Our cat came down here and I didn’t know what sort of trouble Kit might get into.”

“Kit?” He stilled, an odd expression shifting across his face. “As I recall, you named the kitten I gave you Kit. It was the night we made—”

He broke off, but she knew what he’d been about to say. The night they made love. Not “had sex” as he’d been so careful to label it since. Daisy let the silence stretch a moment before responding. “You said you chose Kit because we both had green eyes and were pure trouble.”

“This can’t be the same cat.”

His adamant statement confused her, pricked her for some reason. She planted her hands on her hips and fixed him with a look of exasperation. “Of course it’s the same cat, Justice. Didn’t you recognize her?”

“I didn’t even realize you brought a cat,” he confessed. “I guess my focus was elsewhere.”

She softened, feeling a tug on her heartstrings. “Yes, of course it was. You couldn’t take your eyes off your daughter.”

“Or you.”

He approached with the silent grace she’d always associated with him. Thanks to her position on the step, they stood eye-to-eye, the odd dark gold of his gaze gathering up the light and hinting at wonders and mysteries and delicious depths to be plumbed. They also glimmered with an odd emotion, one she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“You kept the cat I gave you for all these years?” He phrased the question almost like an accusation, as though determined to force her to deny it.

Indignation swept through Daisy. “Did you think I’d throw her out?” she asked. “I adore her.”

Adored her in part because he’d given her the cat, though she didn’t dare admit as much. But also because she’d formed an immediate attachment to the mischievous little beast, one that continued to this day. Kit was part of her family. Part of her life. And a lifeline that remained to this day, connecting the two of them through all the years stretching between them.

“I thought your parents might get rid of her.” He shrugged. “All things considered.”

“You mean because they threw you out, they’d throw your cat out, too?”

His expression closed down. “Something like that.”

“Well, they didn’t,” Daisy retorted. “She’s been with me for ten years now. If I’m lucky, she’ll be with me for another ten. Didn’t you notice I used her in my storybooks?”

Clearly, he hadn’t made the connection. “So, she really is Kit, both in reality and in fiction,” he murmured.

“Yes, she is. And in case you didn’t catch it … You’re Cat.”

“The panther?” His eyes darkened. “That’s me?”

“It seemed fitting at the time.” She smiled, daring to tease. “So are you going to let me use Kit as an excuse for a tour of the forbidden?”

“If I satisfy your curiosity, will you stay out?”

“I’ll try.”

He released a sigh and held out his hand. “Come on.”

She stepped into the hallway, the tile even icier than the wood flooring. She suppressed a shiver, not wanting to give Justice any excuse to send her away. “What’s down that way?” She pointed to the right.

“That’s my uncle’s section. You don’t get a tour of that area without his express invitation.” He paused, capturing her chin within the warmth of his palm and tipping it up. “I’m serious, Daisy. You have to allow him his privacy. No stray cats. No sneaking down in the middle of the night. No excuses. Got it?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” she assured him. “Honestly, I wouldn’t. I might give you a hard time because I know you can take it. But not Pretorius.”

Her sincerity must have come through loud and clear. He gave a single sharp nod, then gestured to the left. “I have a number of labs down this way, as well as my private quarters.”

Good Lord. “A number of labs?”

He shrugged. “For measurement and instrumentation. Another for research and development. A computer lab. A test lab. It isn’t as specialized as the Sinjin complex, but it works well enough for tinkering.”

“I want to see the robot lab.”

He actually grinned. “Okay. I’ll let you see the nonsterile one.”

“You have sterile labs?”

“Yes, but you have to be naked and sterilized before you can go in.”

One look assured he was kidding. Excellent. She’d only been here a few hours and she’d already infected him with a sense of humor. “It must not do a very good job sterilizing,” she retorted. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have a daughter.”

He placed his palm against a plate outside one of the doors and then requested admittance. “Maybe we don’t have to be sterilized,” he admitted while they waited for his security system to run his palm and voiceprint.

“And maybe we don’t have to be naked, either?”

The door to the lab slid silently open. “No, I’m pretty much going to insist on nudity.”

She stepped into a huge room that looked very much like a workshop. Long tables spanned one half of the room and lined the walls. Predictably, they were a crisp, painful white. Instrumentation—none of which she recognized—clustered in a half-dozen stations perched on top of various tables. Each station also possessed its own computer system. At the opposite end of the room were endless cabinets and shelves and banks of drawers, most on rollers. Supplies, at a guess. Everything was ruthlessly organized which didn’t come as much of a surprise considering Justice’s propensity for neatness.

Dead center in the middle of the room stood a huge, sturdy workbench, possibly the messiest section of the room, not that Daisy found it all that messy. To her amusement, one of his Rumi spheres had been left there, and like the one in the office, this one had been transformed into a daisy, as well. She started to comment on that fact, then thought better of it, something in his expression warning her to tiptoe around that particular subject. Instead, she turned her attention to his work project.

Resting on the table squatted two odd devices on treads, presumably to give them mobility. She studied the first which combined dark metal and light gray plastic in a round shape the approximate size of a canister vacuum cleaner. Specialized arms spoked the device and what looked like a ring of aquamarine eyes dotted the circumference. A small helmet capped it, the helmet studded with lights and buttons and a display screen. Beside it squatted its more sophisticated twin.

“What are they?” she asked, fascinated.

“That’s Emo X-14 and X-15. Short for Emotibot, X for the tenth generation, fourteenth and fifteenth versions.” Justice frowned. “At least, that’s what they’re supposed to be. Right now they aren’t much of anything.”

“What are you hoping they’ll become?” She shot him a questioning look. “Is that a better way to phrase it?”

“Much better, I’m afraid.” He blew out a sigh. “Eventually I’m hoping Emo will be the next generation lie detector. A feeling detector, I suppose.”

She stared at the robots, intrigued by the idea. “Why would you want to create a feeling detector?”

“I’m attempting to design a robotic that can anticipate and respond to human needs, not just based on what is requested verbally, but also to nonverbal cues. In fact, I’d like to use the in-house videos and cameras to photograph everyone’s various emotion responses to stimuli over the next several weeks in order to help teach it. Assuming none of you objects.”

“Huh.” Intriguing. “I’ll check with the others, but I have no objection. So, let me get this straight. By using photos and videos of us coming unhinged, or whatever, Emo will figure out when we’re happy or sad or hungry or thirsty and do something about it?”

“Exactly.” A smile danced across his mouth. “Although it isn’t necessary for you to come unhinged in order to teach it appropriate emotional responses.”

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