The Klone and I: A High-Tech Love Story - By Danielle Steel Page 0,37

you, Steph.”

“I love you too,” and what's more, I meant it. The Klone was fun, but I had only let myself give way to him because I thought he was Peter … in fact, I had been so sure. And now I had to face what I was feeling, and what I had done with him, bionic or not. Peter said he was a toy … but what a toy he was! Never in my life had I had a toy like him.

“How was he?” Paul asked when I hung up. I was staring at him in confusion, as he lay looking at me in the tub.

“He's fine,” I said vaguely, thinking of everything he had said, with no idea how to make peace with myself, or the situation I was in. “He said to say hello.” In fact, he hadn't, but what else could I say? I was in way over my head, and I knew it.

“He hates that double flip. I think it just bugs him because he can't do it He's always afraid I'm going to tear some wires, or blow out my fuses, especially on the triple flip.”

“I think you blew out mine.” I smiled, still having difficulty believing it was all true. But there was no hiding from it now. I knew it was, the conversation with Peter had convinced me, especially the fact that he was jealous. “He said you weren't supposed to be fully operative,” I said, chiding him gently, sounding like I was scolding Sam about his homework, or the dog.

“I forgot,” Paul said, smiling broadly. “Champagne does that to me.” We knew what it had done to me, certainly. And he appeared to be entirely without remorse about it. “We'd better get dressed before the kids come home from school,” he said responsibly, as though to atone for the sins we'd committed. “They're really nice kids.”

“Peter likes them too,” I said wanly, staring at him again. He was the perfect likeness, and such an exquisite imitation that no one would ever have suspected he wasn't real. “What's it like?” I asked, unable to resist the question, but like Peter, he was bright, and quick.

“Being a Klone? I like it. It gives me a lot of freedom. He usually lets me do what I want. I get a lot of off-time when he's around, and a lot of fun when he's gone.” Not to mention a lot of sex whenever he wanted.

“Have you done … uh … this for him before? I mean like this?” I wondered how many of Peter's girlfriends he had slept with, how many afternoons like this there had been, when he'd been “fully operative” instead of “partial.”

“No,” he said, facing me squarely, looking hurt. “I haven't. This is the first time I've visited a woman. But they've done a lot of rewiring and corrections on me lately. He's only used me in business till now, and on a few friends. Just like you, they thought it was all a big joke. They love me at his office, but he gets nervous when I go in. I made a couple of pretty sketchy deals for him last year. But this is the first time he's ever trusted me with anything as important as this.”

There were tears in his eyes as he said it, and in mine too. How had this happened to me? God only knew. It had been such a normal, innocent romance until Paul walked through my front door. I didn't know what to do. Paul had gotten under my skin in a terrifying way in a few brief hours, but it was Peter I was in love with. Of that I was still sure.

“This is the first time anything like this has ever happened to me, Paul,” a vast understatement at best. “I don't know what to think, or what to do.” I couldn't stop myself. I started crying and he held me in his arms and gently stroked my hair. There was something so endearing about him, even if he was bionic.

“It's okay, Steph … it's new to me too. We'll work it out together … it'll be all right, I promise … he travels a lot.” What he said turned my tears into sobs. What was I going to do? It was like being involved with two men, one I knew and loved, or thought I did, the other totally outrageous, unbelievably sexy … but then Peter was too. It had been a