Steamed (20 page)

“What?” he dared ask, having the nerve to look confused over my reaction to his appalling confession. “You look upset about something.”

“I don’t know of what you speak,” I said, gathering my dignity and looking out of the window. “If you wish to bare your debauched soul with tales of your licentious, lustful habits, then it is not for me to judge.”

He was silent for the count of ten, which was all I could hang on to my temper. I turned back to him, my ire a truly awesome thing to behold. “Although I will say for a man who has made repeated comments about my derriere, and kissed me freely and without my permission, and made overtures that would be clear to a blind nun, you certainly seem to have the morals of a tomcat. One who keeps several she-cats handy just in case he desires their sexual favors!”

He laughed at me, the cad. He had the unmitigated gall to laugh at me. Not only that, he wrapped an arm around me and tried to pull me onto his person. I fought him, naturally.

“Octavia, stop! That’s my kidney,” he pleaded, still laughing that odious laugh as I elbowed him in order to get free.

“It is not,” I said, jerking my skirt out from under his leg, and straightening my waistcoat. “Your kidneys are in the back.”

“Well then, it was my spleen or something,” he said, chuckling. “When you get jealous, you really get jealous. I’ll have to remember that.”

“I am not jealous,” I said somewhat huffily as I brushed out my skirt.

“You’re positively pea green with jealousy, and all because I was being honest with you.” Slowly, his laughter faded as he leaned over me. “Sweetheart, I figured you would prefer honesty to polite deception.”

“Of course I prefer honesty,” I said, lifting my chin and attempting to gaze serenely out of the window. Damn my errant heart and its telling reactions. “You are reading far too much into plain condemnation for what is a lecherous lifestyle.”

“Oh? So you’ve never gone back and done the nasty with William or Etienne?”

“Certainly not,” I said, slapping his hand when he tried to turn my face to his.

“What about this Alan you want to help Hallie? Don’t you think he’ll expect some sort of payment for going out of his way for us?”

There was a tight note in his voice that I found extremely interesting. “Alan is a gentleman,” I said, finally looking at him. I was correct—there was a starkness about his mouth that pleased me. “He would never demand sexual favors for services rendered.”

The starkness relaxed slightly. I decided that a wee morsel of revenge could be allowed.

“That’s not to say that I wouldn’t feel it’s appropriate, but that, Mr. Fletcher, is neither here nor there to you.”

“Oh, it’s not, is it?” he growled, his eyes glittering with a look that made me warm down to my toes. Before I could truly enjoy his fine show of spirit, he wrapped one arm around my waist, and pulled me onto his lap.

“You really don’t play fair, do you?” he said just a second before his mouth closed on mine.

I was very much aware of the open front to the cab that would allow anyone to see in to us. I was also aware that in the distance the Moghul forces were attacking the city, that my crew were probably out despite that attack, and that somewhere, buried elbow-deep in work, my former lover sat, no doubt at that moment reading my plea for his assistance.

I was cognizant of all that, and yet at that moment, I didn’t care. I was honest enough with myself to admit that I wanted Jack. I wanted to taste him and touch him and lie draped across his heaving chest, fulfilled with a sense of completion that I suspected would be most gratifying with him. I kissed him back, allowing his tongue entry into my mouth, welcoming it, teasing it, tasting him even as he tasted me.

And when he growled into my mouth, “Dear God, woman, you’re driving me mad,” I smiled and nipped his bottom lip, soothing the sting with a long, slow rasp of my tongue. His eyes were molten with desire. “If this is the sort of reaction I’m going to get from you, I’ll have to talk about Kim a lot more.”

“I think once was enough,” I said, sliding my hand down his chest.

“I want to sleep with you, Octavia,” he murmured, his lips moving along my jawline to my ear. I shivered when he found a sensitive spot, clutching his shoulders to keep my balance on his lap. “I can’t believe it’s all I can think of when Hallie is in danger, but it is. Does that shock your Victorian sensibilities?”

“Not particularly. I think it’s clear that I desire you, as well. I have ever since I first saw you.” My back arched as his hands slid around to the front of my blouse, my breasts suddenly sensitized beneath the thin lawn of the material.

He pulled back enough to give me a jaded look. “That’s not true. You wanted to toss me off your airship. You thought I was a pirate.”

“Well,” I allowed, kissing the tip of his nose. “Perhaps it was after I realized that you weren’t a pirate that I desired you.”

He grinned. I gave in and pushed back the lock of hair that lay on his brow.

“It was my Indiana Jones-ness that got you, right? Oh, wait—you don’t know who that is. How about this—it was the sense of adventure and danger that gave you the hots for me?”

“I have enough adventure and danger in my life without seeking that in a bed partner,” I said, tracing the curve of his ear down to his jaw. “That’s not attractive to me.”

“No? Then it’s my ability to make you shiver when I kiss you here?”

He bit my earlobe, then kissed the spot behind my ear, moving down in a path to the expanse of cleavage. I moaned and arched my back again as his hands swept over my breasts, the combination of that and his mouth making me burn.

“That is definitely a plus,” I gasped as his tongue snaked into the valley between my breasts. I fought to hang on to my cognizance. The cab had only a few more blocks to go, and I couldn’t let myself go entirely until some things were settled. “I think it’s your sense of being lost that calls out to me. I was lost once, too, you see, and I know the feeling. It’s as if you need me, Jack, really need me. I’ve never truly been needed before.”

He lifted his head from my chest and looked at me with a curious expression. “Oddly enough, I feel the same thing about you—that there’s a sense of kinship, just like we were strangers together. I guess it’s because you were orphaned so young, and you know what it’s like to have the rug yanked out from under you.”

I bit my lip as I gazed down at his bright green and brown eyes. When I was very young and just come into the care of Robert Anstruther, he had warned me against ever speaking of the time before I was found in the emperor’s garden. And yet now I had an overwhelming desire to do just that. “Jack—”

The carriage stopped before I could speak more than his name.

Jack eased me off his lap, leaping out and holding his hands for me. I let him assist me down, pointed out the correct amount to give the driver, and allowed myself to be pulled across the street to the entrance of the pensione.

“I have just one question,” Jack said, giving me a look that came close to melting my stays. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” I said without hesitation. “I told Alan to send word here, rather than my pensione.”

“Mine it is, my fair little squab,” he said, holding open the door for me.

Now look what you’ve done,
I told my rampant desires.
This isn’t going to end well!

 

L
uckily, Jack had enough clothing on to receive the messenger without blushing. Although judging by the activities in which we’d been engaged when the knock sounded on his bedroom door, I wasn’t entirely certain the man knew how to blush. He certainly exhibited no signs of restraint or a recognition of finer feelings when it came to disrobing me in as swift a manner as possible.

“It’s addressed to you,” he said when I peeked out of the wardrobe into which I’d flung myself at the knock.

“Lock your door, then read the message for me,” I said, grabbing his shirt from where it had been tossed unceremoniously onto the chair. I
tsk
ed at myself as I slipped into it. I wasn’t normally the sort of woman who threw clothing willy-nilly.

“I assume it’s from your friend—it’s just signed
A
at the bottom. It says:
My very dearest Octavia
.” He frowned and shot me a look. “You did say everything was over between you two?”

“Mr. Fletcher!” I said, adopting a suitably shocked expression on my face as I slid into the rumpled sheets of his bed. “I would not be here now in an advanced state of disarray if everything, as you put it, was not over.”

“Sorry,” he said, his frown clearing somewhat. “It’s just that the
my very dearest
was a bit over-the-top.”

“Alan has a very loquacious manner of speech,” I admitted, settling myself against the pillows. “Go on.”

“Loquacious, my ass . . . ,” he murmured, then cleared his throat, and read out in a clear voice, “
My very dearest Octavia. I have received your alarming communiqué, and although I am due at the Ambassador’s ball, I take pen in hand to address this matter of the gravest moment. I fear there is little I can do for your friend if she has been taken by the imperial guards, although I know you will not be content until I see the vice-provost myself and ascertain on what charges the lady is being detained. I cannot do that, however, until morning. My schedule is busy, as you are no doubt aware, but for you, my sweet Octavia, I will visit the provost’s office as early as is reasonable. I must now make an appearance at the Ambassador’s ball—if you have further need of me tonight, you know where to find me. Hastily, but with much regard and affection, yours, A.
I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t close with hugs and kisses, eh?”

“I didn’t expect there would be much he could do tonight,” I said thoughtfully, hugging my knees as Jack tossed the letter onto the nightstand. “I’m sorry, Jack. I know you hoped that we would be able to see your sister tonight, but Alan is very trustworthy, and he will be at the provost’s office at the first opportunity.”

He frowned again, staring at nothing in particular. “You don’t think . . . they wouldn’t torture her, would they?”

“No! Oh, no, Jack. You must not torment yourself with such thoughts.” I crawled across the bed to where he stood, wrapping my arms around his bare torso and offering him what comfort I had. He was clad only in his trousers, since I had not yet gotten to stripping them off him, but his chest, lightly bedecked with dark blond hair, was warm and inviting. “They would have no reason to do so. She did not resist them, and the provost would not have had time to see her. They likely put her in one of the nicer cells, since she is a woman, and although I’m sure she’s frightened and not very comfortable, I don’t think there is any reason why she should be abused.”

He let me hug him for a few minutes, his tense stance finally relaxing as he accepted the fact that there was nothing more we could do. His arms went around me, and he said into my hair, “I’ve only known you three days, and already I’m beginning to think I can’t do without you.”

“That’s because you’re a sensible man despite your extremely unlikely circumstances.”

He pulled back to eye me with those disconcerting mismatched eyes. “Circumstances which you seem to accept with more than the usual aplomb—
nnrng
.”

My hand, which I had placed on the buttons of his trousers, caressed the bulge that lay therein. “If you have grown tired of seducing me, I would be happy to reciprocate.”

“Dear God,” he moaned, his beautiful eyes closing as I slowly undid the buttons. “Octavia, you are full of surprises.”

“More than you can ever guess,” I murmured, sliding his trousers down over his hips. His drawers soon followed, and I was left kneeling on the floor, cheek to jowl (so to speak) with a sight that gave me pause for measure.

Literally.

“You appear to be larger than I expected,” I said, wrapping one hand around him, and noting how much was left over.

He moaned again.

“Not grossly larger, mind you,” I said, bringing my second hand into play. “Not inhumanely large. Not like an animal, for instance. Just a bit more than I expected.”

Harsh breathing was the reply.

“You’re not quite two hands, in case you were wondering. That is good—two hands’ worth would be excessive. I could not approve of two hands’ worth. But one hand and slightly more than a half of a second hand—that is reasonable. I approve of your dimensions, even if they are a bit more robust than I had anticipated.”

“Flang,” he said.

I frowned at the word. “Flang?”

Above me, his chest rose and fell in a rapid movement. His hands were fisted, lying not very relaxed against his bare hips. His eyes, I was interested to note, were closed. “Do that movement with your fingertips again.”