The Iron Duke (31 page)

“You seem to be handling your wine as well as I am,” he rumbled against her ear.

Her laugh became a chattering of her teeth. She’d forgotten her overcoat—but Trahaearn had his. Drawing her in front of him, he wrapped the sides of his coat around her front and strapped her in with his arms. His solid form was like a furnace behind her, and she was suddenly, wonderfully warm. She began to relax against him, but then her eyes registered the scene that lay before her, and she jolted up with a gasp.

“Blue heavens! What are those?”

In the distance, moonlight slanted across white peaks and jagged black cliffs. And above them shone the moon itself . . . and the
stars
. Heart in her throat, she stared upward at the bright pinpoints of white, white light, feeling like weeping and laughing.

How beautiful.
The stars truly must be blessed.

“Those are the Alps.”

Her gaze returned to earth again. A mountain range. She’d known that Europe had them, as triangles inked over maps. But she’d never thought of the mountains. Only the cities and the people who’d had to flee from the Horde. She’d never considered that such a sight would have been just as valuable as the buildings and fields they’d all left behind.

She watched the stars and the peaks, and Trahaearn slowly moved behind her. His mouth touched her hair, then her ear. She shouldn’t be letting him do this, but couldn’t summon the will to stop him. Then his lips found the side of her throat and she felt his tongue on her skin, and she wanted to arch against him and purr. Just like Scarsdale and Yasmeen—though Mina was certain that no woman could possibly make a sound quite like the aviator captain had.

She fought to clear the spinning in her mind. “What happened down there?”

“The Horde took it all.”

“No. Not in the mountains. In the cabin. Scarsdale and Captain Corsair aren’t . . . they weren’t . . . and yet they . . . ?”

“Yasmeen likes to be touched, but she only trusts a few people to do it. Scarsdale’s the same.”

“Oh.” Mina tried to process that. “Are you someone she trusts?”

“I don’t know. Even if I was, I wouldn’t. I don’t like to touch anyone. Or to be touched.”

Then why did he stand here now? She felt him all around her. Not skin to skin, yet still touching. “But—”

“I made an exception.”

Oh.
Her breath came in sharp little pants. His mouth opened against her neck and he bit her, gently. A hot ache formed low in her belly. She shifted her feet against the deck before making herself stand still, arms at her sides.

What had they been talking about? She cast desperately through her memory until she found it. “Everything changed between them when Fox left.”

“Ah, well. They were laying it on thick because she wanted him gone.”

“Why?”

“He made a fool of her. She didn’t know who he was before coming aboard. And he made her uncomfortable. He watched her all through dinner.”

“How do you know? You were watching me.”

He laughed into the curve of her shoulder. “Yes. And for the same reason. But she wanted to get rid of him, and you . . . you came to me.”

Mina didn’t want to think of that. “She and Scarsdale have played it before.”

“They have an arrangement that benefits them both.”

“Because of what they have to hide?”

“You are the inspector. You have to figure out what their secrets are. I won’t tell you.”

Laughing, she shook her head. She felt his smile against her neck and his palms sliding up over her belly. Confused, she glanced down. To Mina’s shock, her short jacket had been unbuckled to her breasts, open in an inverted
V
that he slowly spread wider.

She made a soft noise, and his hands flattened, holding her against him. Heat bloomed between her legs, shortened her breath.

“Mina.” His deep voice turned her name into a command.

“No.” She trembled against him. “I haven’t given you permission to use my name.”

“Just like you waited for Hale’s permission to cross the Channel? Do you only care for permission when it suits you? No, Mina.” He shook his head. His fingers brushed the red band over her sleeve. “Lie, if you must protect yourself. But do not be a hypocrite. I can’t tolerate hypocrites.”

Then she should list all of her hypocrisies. But the brush of his fingers against her arm resolved into meaning, and stabbed at her pride. “You think this band is a lie?”

“I was in London during the revolution. I saw what happened to every Horde person on the streets. If you had been out there fighting, they wouldn’t have cared who your parents were. You’d be dead.”

Yes.
She would have been. And he must have seen what no one in England ever mentioned now: the murders and the rapes that had nothing to do with the Horde, and the buggers’ uncontrollable emotions after being freed. For a few days, they’d been no better than animals.

And it was a collective shame. Most people outside of England didn’t know. The revolution had been something to be proud of—but not everything that happened in that time was.

He tensed. “You weren’t out there, were you?”

“No. My father locked me in my mother’s attic workroom.”

“So what happened?”

They didn’t speak of this. Yet the words were tumbling out. “I heard my mother scream. I heard a gunshot. And so I used an awl to open the lock.”

And she’d still been carrying it when she’d run downstairs. Outside, the city had been screaming and burning, and her own terror had terrified her even more. Uncontrollable, her fear had fed itself, until it had completely consumed her.

Now, it was like a dream. She could remember being afraid. But she couldn’t comprehend how much, and hadn’t felt anything like it since.

“They were brothers,” she said. “They’d lived in the corner house in the square for a few years. They’d offered for me, once. Not for marriage, but to keep as a concubine, and my father turned them down. But that night, they had an airship and were leaving, because all the Horde were being killed . . . and I think they came to save me. To take me with them, where I might be safe.”

Trahaearn’s arms tightened around her. She took a deep breath.

“So they came for me. They’d shot Henry. And my mother, there’d been the Frenzy, and she and my father . . . She was with child. But she’d tripped, or one of them had pushed her, and there was blood, and my father was trying to help both her and Henry, and Andrew was screaming and trying to fight them off. Then I came downstairs, and the brothers tried to take me outside the house. Tried to take me away from my family. I didn’t think. I still had the awl. And so I . . . stabbed. Over and over, until they let me go.”

Even now, her hand tightened. Trahaearn was silent behind her.

“And you’re correct: I do use the band to protect myself. When buggers see it, sometimes they decide to let me be. But it isn’t a lie. I spilled Horde blood. The only lie is that it’s supposed to be a celebration.” Not a marker of the most horrifying moment of her life.

His lips pressed to her temple. “I’m sorry.”

She shuddered, trying to let go of the memory. Trying to return to here, and now, and to the knowledge that she should be pushing him away.

“Yasmeen said that you wanted to destroy everything—and you told me you weren’t saving us when you blew up the tower. But is what happened to us what you intended? Did you know we’d become like animals? Like zombies?”

“You were nothing like zombies.”

“It felt like it. But instead of hunger, all violence and fear. Did you know it would happen? Is that what you intended?”

“No.” His voice was low and rough. “It wasn’t.”

“Then what did you—” She broke off as he suddenly turned her to face him. “Don’t.”

“I’m taking advantage of this opportunity.” He lowered his mouth, hovering only a breath above hers. “Before you take advantage of me.”

Her head swam. “Take advantage of you? How?”

“With an interrogation.”

His lips settled over hers. Oh, but he tasted of wine, of warmth and spice. She moaned low in her throat, hands clutching at his shoulders. With a rough sound of need, he carried her forward and the rail pressed into her back. His fingers clenched in the tight roll at her nape. Her pins loosened, giving up her hair to the wind.

She dragged in a breath when he lifted his head. “What did you intend?”

With a smile, he tucked his big hands under her short coat. His palms slid up over her shirt and armor to cup her breasts. His thumbs swept over her nipples. “To suck on these. Then I intend to lick between your legs until you come in my mouth.”

Her knees weakened. Mina clenched her thighs together, felt the wetness gathering there . . . with only a kiss and a few words.

She swayed toward him—and the starry skies help her, she lifted her face to his. “Tell me about the tower. What did you intend?”

His jaw hardened and she thought he’d refuse to answer. But he lowered his head and put his mouth to her ear. “I didn’t think of the buggers. I didn’t think of anyone. I only thought of hitting the Horde as hard as I could. But, yes, if I’d stopped to think—I would have wanted it to burn. I wanted to destroy everything. But I didn’t realize what that meant. Not until I saw what I’d done. And so I’m still paying for it.”

What?
She comprehended most of it, but couldn’t fit the last part. “How are you paying for it? Why?”

He kissed her again until she was clinging and breathless. With his hands beneath her bottom, he lifted her against him. She felt the hard press of his erection into her stomach, and the low, melting ache between her thighs. It was all she could do not to open her legs around him and ride that thick ridge of flesh.

He groaned into her neck. “Invite me to your cabin, Mina.”

“No.”

“You don’t have anything to fear here. Not on the airship. Be with me.” He lifted his head, met her eyes. “You’ve thought about it?”

Yes. Again and again.
“I don’t need to. My answer will always be the same.”

Because it was the only sane answer.

He closed his eyes, and let her slide down his body until her feet touched the deck. “Then go. I’ll escort you back to your room.”

Lifting a lantern from one of the posts, he preceded her on the ladders and steadied her as she climbed down. He followed her along the passageway to her cabin. The faint moonshine through the porthole barely penetrated the darkness of her room, and the only light came from the dim glow of Trahaearn’s lantern. She turned back to him.

“I need to find the spark lighter for my lamp.”

Trahaearn nodded. Quickly, she searched the small desk for the lighter. The room brightened and the door closed. The light flickered when he set the lantern beside her. Mina froze.

She didn’t look up at him. “Have you come in to help me find it?”

“No.” His hand curved around her waist. “I’m taking this opportunity to persuade you.”

Then she’d see how well her resistance stood. Not long. He
wanted
her. And by the blessed stars, she wanted this.

Deliberately, Mina turned toward him as he drew her in. Lifting her against the solid wall of his chest, he devoured her mouth with another kiss, hungry and wet and hot. So hot. She melted under the onslaught, gripping his shoulders, trying to reach for more, to take him deeper. Her legs wrapped around his hips.

With a heavy groan, he raised his head. His gaze burned into hers, his breathing ragged.

“I won’t fuck you,” he promised. “Not with both of us drunk. I won’t. I’ll only taste you.”

A taste, yes.
He bent toward her, and hot kisses rained down her throat. She made fists in his hair and dragged him to her mouth again. His muscles surged between her legs as he lifted and moved. Her back hit the wall near the porthole. Fire exploded through her as his rigid length ground into the cradle of her thighs. She broke away from his kiss, arching and gasping.

And then dove in for another taste. Blue heavens, she wanted so much. Her hands shoved his overcoat from his broad shoulders. He spread her short coat open, stripped it down her arms, and laughed against her when he found her shirt and her armor. She tried to laugh, but she was hungry for another taste of his mouth, his throat. He denied her both, grabbing the hem of her shirt. Cotton pulled over her head, and the buckles of her armor quickly released beneath his fingers and thudded to the deck. Tugging down the loose neckline of her chemise, he buoyed her small breasts, exposing them to his gaze. Chest heaving, Mina watched the dark need suffuse his face.

His need couldn’t be as big as hers. She didn’t see any fear in him, and hers was growing huge, frightening.

“Mina,” he rasped. His hands lowered to her backside, and she whimpered when he rolled his erection against the core of her, where she felt so wet and hot and swollen. “I’d fill you here. So deep.”

Oh, but she needed that. Her head fell back against the wall.

“But not now.” His head dipped. “Now I finally taste you.”

Lips parted, she watched as his tongue flicked across her nipple. Usually so soft, now they stood hard, like bullets. She cried out when he drew the stiff peak into his mouth, tugging and sucking. Uncontrollable need whipped into her. Her hips rocked. His fingers clenched on her bottom, holding her firm over his thick erection.

Arousal had flushed his cheekbones when he lifted his head. He made a rough noise, as if the sight of her nipple drawn tight and ripe by the suction of his mouth pleased him. He moved to her right breast, sucking and pulling, and Mina almost lost herself again, her fingers digging into his scalp, helpless to the sounds of need and pleasure erupting from her throat.

He returned to her mouth for another hard and hot kiss. The fine wool of his coat abraded her wet nipples. Still dressed, though she was only in her trousers and a chemise that hid nothing at all. And her trousers were loose, unbuttoned, though she didn’t know when or how or even if she’d done it herself.