"It is just valves and chambers. The nanos would build a new one."
"But after five minutes or so, the blood cells would cease functioning and--"
"After about ten minutes they would cease functioning," he corrected.
"Ten?" she asked, her eyes narrowing on his face.
"Si." He sounded pretty certain, she noted with interest, but then he continued, "And the nanos can work quickly when necessary. They replicate their number as needed to perform tasks."
"But to rebuild a whole heart out of just blood cells and--"
"A fertilized egg starts as but one cell, yet within three days has grown into sixteen, and in nine months becomes a human with trillions of cells," he pointed out. "The nanos work much more quickly."
"Hmm," she muttered, her eyes narrowing on him thoughtfully again. But then she shook her head and asked, "Using that logic, why does removing the head kill you? Why can't the nanos just rebuild it?"
He shrugged. "Our scientists are not sure, but I believe just as every army needs a leader--"
"There would be a lead nano too," she finished for him. "One that tells the others what to do."
He nodded.
"And you think this lead nano is housed permanently in the brain somewhere, giving orders?"
He nodded again and Abigail tilted her head slightly as she considered what he'd said over the last few moments. How many people knew how long blood in the human body would remain effective without the heart pumping? How many people knew the speed at which a fertilized egg developed and could tell you it was made up of sixteen cells in three days? The man was a big beefcake, he was built like a big old football player with arms as big around as her thighs, but damn, he was smart.
"Tomasso?"
"Si?" he asked warily.
"You are a closet geek."
"What?" His eyes widened and then he quickly shook his head. "No."
"Si," she said with certainty. "You look like a beefcake pinup model, and you grunt more than you speak, but I bet you have a huge fricking library at home and read Popular Science on the toilet."
Tomasso continued to shake his head briefly and then sighed and muttered, "Le Scienze."
Guessing that was the Italian version of Scientific American or something, she raised her eyebrows in question and merely waited.
"Si, I like science," he admitted and then frowned. "How did you know?"
Abigail rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because you knew that blood cells survive about ten minutes before effectively dying," she suggested. "Or because you know that the human egg divides into sixteen cells during the first seventy-two hours. I mean, really? Who knows that but scientists and closet science geeks?"
"This is why I prefer not to speak," Tomasso muttered.
"What?" Abigail asked with surprise. "Why?"
"Well, look at how you see me now. I am a geek to you."
"No!" she protested at once, and then grimaced and said, "Well, yes."
Tomasso sighed, his shoulders slumping.
Frowning, Abigail quickly stood and caught his hands in hers, saying, "But you're a sexy geek with a rockin' bod and very pretty."
Tomasso stilled and eyed her suspiciously. "You think I have a rocking body?"
"Si," she assured him solemnly.
A smile curved his lips and he pulled her gently forward, his head descending just as someone knocked at the door.
"Yo! We're ordering room service for dinner. You guys want anything?"
Abigail placed her hand over Tomasso's mouth just before it reached hers and said apologetically, "Can we hold that thought? I'm really hungry. It feels like I haven't eaten in years."
A puff of air blew over her fingers on a short laugh from Tomasso and he straightened with a nod. "It has been a week since you ate. And I am hungry too."
"Wow, no wonder I'm hungry then," Abigail muttered as she slipped from his arms.
Shaking his head, Tomasso glanced to the door and called, "We will be out directly."
"Out?" Abigail squawked. "I can't go out there, I have no clothes."
"You do," Tomasso assured her. Moving to the closet, he opened it to reveal half a dozen sundresses hanging next to several men's shirts.
"Mary bought them," Tomasso explained. "She realized you were without and knew you would need clothes when you woke."
"And the men's clothes?" Abigail asked with amusement.
"She said she was tired of looking at my bare chest," he said, blushing slightly.
"That's odd," Abigail said with amusement as she grabbed a white dress with large red tropical flowers on it. Heading for the bathroom, she threw a flirty smile over her shoulder and added, "Because I love looking at your bare chest."
"Later," Tomasso promised with a smile.
Abigail returned the smile and started to close the door.
"Abigail?" he said suddenly.
Pausing with the door half-closed, she glanced to him and noted that concern had returned to his face. "Yes?"
"We did not really finish our talk," he pointed out. "There is much to explain."
Abigail smiled crookedly. "Later. I think I have the gist of it, and really it's kind of overwhelming," she admitted. "So maybe we could do it in increments, a little here and a little there? Yes?"
"Si," he said, relaxing. "A little here and a little there."
Nodding, Abigail finished pushing the door shut and then leaned back against it and closed her eyes on a little sigh as her brain sorted through what she'd learned. Tomasso was an immortal, not a vampire. He had turned her, so apparently she was one now too. Which didn't seem so bad to her now that she knew it was due to nanos and not some curse that had left her soulless. Besides, the benefits were kind of awesome, Abigail thought. She had a rocking body, would never age and stuff . . . She wrinkled her nose and acknowledged that she wasn't completely sure what the "stuff" entailed, but supposed she would find out soon enough.
The thought made her smile crookedly and then she shook her head as she moved on to what else she'd learned . . . Tomasso wasn't just a hunk, he was secretly smart too. Wow! How hot was that? She could actually talk to the man about things that interested her. Something she hadn't even really considered before this. Until now, Abigail had mostly been lusting after his big beautiful body. And he did have a beautiful body worth lusting after, but as long as there was just lust between them . . . well, sexual attraction waned eventually, right? But now she was beginning to find his mind almost as interesting.
Almost, she acknowledged wryly. There was still an awful lot of lust in the way, but she found his smarts exciting too, and promising as well . . . especially if they were to be life mates.
That made her grimace. She still had no idea what that was. They hadn't got around to that bit, but she was sure they would eventually, and she could wait. They had time.
Her eyes popped open on that thought and she moved to the mirror to peer at herself. While there had been a lot of changes wrought by her being turned, she didn't look any younger to herself. But then, she was only twenty-six, already in that peak condition area the nanos kept their hosts in. Her skin did look smoother though, fresh and smooth as a baby's butt. It even seemed to glow a little and had a natural healthy blush. She definitely didn't need makeup.
Abigail smiled at her reflection, and then glanced down at her towel-wrapped tummy when it rumbled hungrily. Right. Food.
Letting the towel drop to the floor, she took the dress off the hanger and quickly donned it, and then examined herself in the mirror. Usually she wouldn't have gone without a bra even in a strapless dress like this, but she didn't need it with her new body. Her breasts, larger though they were, appeared to defy gravity.
"Sweet," she said and snatched up the brush lying on the counter to run it quickly through her hair. The brush was obviously Tomasso's which made her grateful he had long hair. Finished with it, she set it back on the counter and then swung around to hurry out to the bedroom.
; Her steps slowed when she saw that the room was empty. Tomasso had left, she realized, but after a hesitation, she simply headed for the door he'd entered through. She'd never seen the rest of the suite, or villa, or whatever this was. Now she glanced around curiously as she stepped out into a large living room/dining room combo done in white and teak. The dining room table was white-painted wood, its chairs also mostly painted white but with unpainted bamboo backing. The large comfortable couches and chairs in the sitting area were white with colorful throw pillows, and the coffee and end tables were all teak. She thought the ceiling was too, though it was vaulted, pretty high up and she couldn't be sure.
Smiling, she lowered her gaze from the ceiling, only to freeze as she spotted Tomasso on the terrace just outside the glass doors . . . kissing Mary! And pretty damned passionately too, she noted with dismay. Abigail had thought she and Tomasso had something hot and special, the kind of passion that didn't come along every day. But apparently it did with Tomasso, because it looked to her like he and Mary were about to rip each other's clothes off right there on the terrace for all to see.
"Oh, you are out already. Here. I went to fetch the menu for you."
Abigail whirled and gasped as she found herself staring at . . . Tomasso? Frowning, she whirled back to the terrace, blinking when she saw that he was still out there, Mary in his arms.
But his clothes were different, she realized suddenly.
"Abigail?" Tomasso was suddenly by her side, his expression concerned. "Are you all right?"
"Who?" she gasped, pointing to the other him.
Tomasso followed her finger to the couple on the terrace and smiled faintly, then glanced to her with confusion. "I thought you met Mary? This morning? She is the one who was there when you woke up and fetched me to--"
"Not her! You!" Abigail snapped. "And how can you be in two places at once?"
Tomasso's eyes widened and then understanding filled his expression and he slid his arms around her and began patting her back. "That is my brother Dante. Did I not mention we were twins?"
"No," Abigail whispered. Closing her eyes she sagged against him with a shudder of relief. Once she'd seen that there were two of them, she'd thought perhaps nanos were not the only advanced technology she needed to worry about. Perhaps cloning would be in there too and there were dozens of Tomassos running around and--
"I am sorry. Did you think that was me kissing Mary?"
"Yes," she admitted, nodding her head against his chest.
"And you were jealous?"
Hearing the hope in his voice, Abigail laughed softly and shook her head. Pulling back, she looked up at him and said solemnly, "I wanted to tear Mary away from you, rip her hair out and then pull down your pants and cut off your--"
Tomasso saved his manhood from abuse by kissing her then and bringing an end to the description of what she'd wanted to do. Abigail went still at first, and then slid her arms around his neck, pressed forward against him and kissed him back.
"Hey! Romeos one and two! Do you guys think you can get your tongues out of your girlfriends' mouths long enough to decide what you want to eat? Am I the only one around here with a stomach? Honestly!" There was a pause and then the voice muttered, "I'm going to go call Holly."
"Who was that?" Abigail asked on a sigh when Tomasso slowly broke their kiss. She thought it was the same voice that had called through the door about ordering room service, but had no idea who it belonged to. Or even how many people were presently in this place, which she was quite sure was a villa.
"Justin Bricker," Tomasso growled, pressing a kiss to her nose before releasing her completely. "He is cranky because Lucian would not let him bring his life mate, Holly."
"What is--" Abigail began, only to cut herself off. She suspected the discussion about life mates would not be a quick one and she really was hungry. It was better left for later.
"You're up and dressed."
Abigail turned to Mary as the blonde led Dante inside, and offered the woman a smile. Gesturing to the dress she wore, she said, "Tomasso said you bought the clothes for me. Thank you."
"Oh." Mary waved her gratitude away. "I just picked them out. The council picked up the tab." She smiled as she looked Abigail over in the dress. "Glad to see I was right about the size."
Abigail smiled and nodded. "You were. Thank you."
"You must be Abigail," Dante said next, moving around Mary to hug Abigail in greeting. "Tomasso has told us a great deal about you."
Wishing he'd done the same with her about them, Abigail automatically hugged the man back. He not only had the exact same face as Tomasso, his body was identical too and hugging him should have been like hugging Tomasso, but it wasn't. Her head was at the exact same level as it would be on Tomasso, his arms were strong and enveloping like Tomasso's, and yet there was something missing. Abigail felt nothing in his arms. Weird, she thought. But in a good way. It would be extremely discomfiting to find herself attracted to both brothers. It made her wonder, though, what caused the difference. Was it chemistry? Or, since they kept mentioning this life mate business, which she'd never heard of before so assumed only happened with their kind, perhaps it had something to do with the nanos. Did they send out signals to the nanos in her body?
That made no sense, Abigail realized now. She hadn't had the nanos until recently. There had been none in her for his nanos to communicate with on the beach and there had been some serious attraction from the start.
Interesting, Abigail thought as Dante released her and stepped back. It was something she'd have to ponder later and even discuss with Tomasso. It would be a fun puzzle for them to work on together, she thought as Tomasso slid an arm around her waist to steer her through the dining area and into the kitchen beyond it.
Two more men waited for them there and Abigail looked from one to the other curiously. One had dark hair while the other's was ice-blond. Both were well built and handsome, and both looked to be about the same age as the rest of them physically, but Abigail found herself examining the fairer man's face, her eyes focusing on his and staying there. She was sure the icy silver-blue gaze she met belonged to someone much older than the twenty-five or so years he appeared to be.
"Finally," the dark-haired man said with relief, covering the phone he'd been talking into. "Look at the menu, pick what you want and I'll order it. But try to be quick. I'm hungry and it'll probably take an hour for room service to deliver as it is."
"Room service isn't likely to deliver here since this villa is listed as empty," Tomasso pointed out.
"Oh, right," Justin said with a frown.
"It doesn't matter. I'm too starved to wait an hour anyway," Mary said with a grimace.
"So am I," Dante announced.
"Then why don't we just go down to the restaurant? It would be faster," Mary pointed out, then frowned and glanced to Abigail with concern, adding, "If you're feeling up to it, I mean. If not, I'm sure we can--"
"It's okay," Abigail interrupted with a smile. "I feel fine. We can go down to the restaurant."
"Are you sure?" Tomasso asked, and she was surprised to see the concern on his face too.
"Yes. Really. I'm good," she said on a laugh. "Crazy hungry and thirsty, but good."
The fair-haired man with icy silver-blue eyes turned suddenly to Tomasso. "Did Justin bring you the fresh cooler?"
"Si," Tomasso said.
"Three bags then to be sure there are no unfortunate incidents at the restaurant. I'll call for a van to collect us. You have five, perhaps ten minutes. Be quick."
Tomasso nodded, looking suddenly grim, and turned Abigail to lead her from the room.
"Do you want some help?" Dante offered and Abigail saw Tomasso nod though he didn't stop to look around or even slow.
"Help with what?" she asked curiously as he hurried her through the dining/living area. "Where are we going?"
"All will be well," Tomasso assured her, and despite the sexy bass of his voice, Abigail was suddenly worried whe
re she'd only been curious before.
"What's going on?" she asked, digging in her feet.
Tomasso merely scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way to the bedroom door. He moved so quickly, they were inside the room before she could protest.
"Tomasso!" she said with confusion. "Put me down. What's--?"
Her question died on a gasp as he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. When he ended it just as abruptly, Abigail blinked her eyes open to find herself sitting on the end of the bed. Tomasso was already six feet away, with his brother, opening the cooler she'd noted earlier. The one she'd thought might have pop or juice in it, she recalled as she watched them both bend to examine the contents.
"I know Lucian said three, but I'm thinking four might be better," she heard Dante murmur. "If she's anything like Mary, she'll be pretty thirsty the first little while."
Tomasso grunted in agreement and they both began to reach into the cooler.
"What on earth are you two . . ." Abigail's question trailed off as both men straightened, each holding two IV bags of what could only be blood. Gasping, she stood abruptly. "I've changed my mind. I think I'd like to eat in."
"Abigail," Tomasso chided, moving slowly toward her. "You have to learn sometime."
"Learn what?" she asked at once. "What do you plan to do with those?" Even though she asked the question, Abigail had already surmised the answer. There was no way they could get those four bags of blood into her in ten minutes using an IV. They meant to make her drink the blood, and she so wasn't doing that. She knew she'd have to eventually, her body would need the extra blood now that she'd been turned, but the idea of it was still new, and rather disgusting in her mind. She just couldn't chug blood down like it was a soda or something. Just the thought made her queasy.
"We are not going to make you chug it down like a soda," Dante reassured her.
"You aren't?" she asked warily, and then frowned. "Wait, how did you know I was thinking that?"
Dante glanced to Tomasso in surprise. "I thought you explained things to her? It is why Mary fetched you."
"I did," Tomasso muttered. "But we have not covered everything yet. Justin interrupted us before I could get to mind reading and control and such."
"Mind reading?" Abigail said with disbelief, and then scowled at Tomasso. "You can read my mind?" The thought was a horrifying one. Dear God, her thoughts had been pretty salty since meeting him. If he knew some of the fantasies she'd toyed with every time she'd looked at him . . .