Their steam limousine drew to a halt near the lamplit entrance to an arched gateway. Their vehicle was too large to drive through. Above, the facade of a long building climbed into the dark sky.
She tried to get out and walk, and Dankyo blocked the door.
“This is the Hellenic delegation’s compound, Sofia. If you get out like that will you be happy at the impression you make?”
She looked down. Remembered. Bare breasts. Nipple jewelry. Uh-oh. At least she had the harem pants on. Somehow, braving public scrutiny at the dinner party had been less confronting than here where people would see her every day. Perhaps in a week this would mean nothing to her, but not yet, not tonight.
“Your coat?” she asked hopefully.
He slowly shook his head. “I’ll carry you again. Snuggle in, and no one will see a thing.”
Grrr. The staring match lasted all of two seconds before she gave in. Damn. How does he do this?
She snuggled. As he followed a guide and carried her up stairs and along corridors, she recalled all the arguments with her father and brothers. How much they would have paid to know Dankyo’s secret for getting her to say yes.
“Here.” He nudged open the door their quiet guide had indicated. “Our bedroom for a while.”
Our? The innocent yet somehow astounding word made her wriggle from his grasp. Her bare feet hit the cool timber floor. The click of the door shutting made her whirl, and she felt the tug of the fabric tails on her nipples.
It was true, though. She had to stay with him. For appearances. Was it such a hardship? She swayed. Her eyelids threatened to close down altogether. If she hadn’t trusted him, she would have roused, but she did. Trust him. What a strange concept.
But, I do. So tired.
“Go get washed up.” He indicated. “Unless you’d like me to help?”
Hell no. On automatic, she trudged to the indicated bathroom, slipped off her clothes, cleaned up, and went back into the room, then hesitated. One bed. No other bed, nowhere else to go. Half-asleep already, she considered.
He’d given her orgasms, sucked and licked her down below, tied her up. What was sleeping next to him after that? So she climbed into bed and sank into oblivion.
At times during the night she half woke and found his body right up next to hers, sighed, and went back to sleep
Morning. She woke up alone.
Sun streamed in through a window veiled by light netting curtains. She listened to the sounds of the nearby river. Somewhere out there boat engines started up and men called the raucous greetings of those setting out early for work. Birds cawed. Motors chugged.
Yawning, stretching her kinked muscles, she eyed the bare, crumpled sheet next to her. No Dankyo.
Slowly she sat up. Thank God.
She was here to finish a task. To prove she was the one person able to solve the Clockwork Warrior mystery. To get a job and success from this. Not to become Dankyo’s…mistress. And boy, she’d really gotten off to a good start doing that.
The ache in her nipples reminded her of the grip of the wires. And that brought back to her exactly what she’d done—let herself be tied up, displayed, and made to come in front of a room full of strangers.
This is Byzantium, where slaves do as their Masters bid them. Where no one will know if you surrender yourself to me.
Those words had given her freedom.
She shook her head. While it was happening, last night had been strangely wonderful, and that she’d been watched by others had made it even more erotic but not to be repeated. Just like she’d told Dankyo. But if she kept sleeping in his bed, next to his—she shut her eyes—glorious body, she’d never manage anything.
So, did she drag off the bedclothes and dump some in a corner to prove her point?
She got up, picked up a pillow, and eyed the rugs, the chests, the lack of spare space, and sighed. Where?
The door opened, and she realized she was wearing precisely…nothing.
The pillow suddenly became an important accessory. She clutched it to her, concealing groin and breasts.
Dankyo entered, then merely raised one eyebrow and stalked toward her. Black trousers, buttoned-up ivory shirt—all neat and businesslike, as always. Words avalanched into her mind—daunting, scary, and hell, sexy. Backing up only worked for two steps, when her shoulders hit the wall.
“Morning,” she squeaked.
He propped his arm overhead on the wall, caging her in. “Good morning, Sofia.” His other shoulder moved, then a second later, his hand smoothed down her bare side. “I see you’ve not dressed.”
“I’m—” She swallowed, sure she’d just flared her nostrils, and feeling the weight of his stare. Might as well paint YOU MAKE ME NERVOUS on my face.
“What? Not sure what to do? You said yes to me last night.” Now his hand slid upward, leaving a trace of heat, and awakening her flesh. He reached her neck, then her jaw, then her mouth.
Sensations trickled from where he gently thumbed along her mouth.
Tasting him became such a desperate need her tongue ached. But her mind clamored at her. How do I get out of this? I’m about to slide down the wall.
“I said yes was temporary. Not today.”
“I see.” He kissed her forehead. The closeness, the way he’d trapped her, made weakness shimmy through her body. His breath warmed her, and his mouth pressed on her skin. “There is only one problem with that, my lady. After last night, yes is no longer what I’m looking for. If you want me to stop, I need to hear a no. Understand?”
His weight was on the pillow now, squeezing her firmly into the wall. No and you can’t bobbed up in her head, then sank again. She inhaled, long and shakily, then let her muscles relax. “Okay,” she whispered.
“Now. The pillow.” Though she grabbed instinctively, he pulled it away in an upward direction. It was either hang on to the thing and look silly, or let it go.
Damn. Not good.
The mean twinkle in his eyes made her scowl while she tried to figure out whether to cover her important bits with her hands.
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head, snared one hand, and kissed the back. “Let me see you.”
“I’m not some prize at a fair.”
“No?” His eyes shadowed into darkness. “To me, you’re the greatest prize of all.”
Her heart seized up before thudding merrily back into action.
“But prizes—” He switched his grip to hold both her wrists, then inexorably lifted her arms above her head and clamped her wrists to the wall. If he’d nailed them there, she’d have had more freedom. Warmth flared into her groin.
His gaze travelled from her face downward, lingering on her breasts before lowering. “Prizes need to be displayed. And touched.”
Though his eyes met hers for a second, as if checking her response, he wasn’t giving her any choice—not now anyway. As his big hand covered her body, shaping into all her curves and stirring to life every portion of her, her breaths came harder and harsher.
“All of you is mine to handle. From your breasts…” She flinched as he came near her already sensitive nipples, but he fondled each one, using his nail to cut a fine circle about each areola before his palms smoothed in the southerly hot direction. By the time he reached the triangle of her sex and cupped her mound, she was arching into his hand. “To here. And you are so wet.”
One digit carved a path between her swollen labia. She closed her eyes to appreciate the thrust and slide of his flesh on hers. She opened her legs a little farther.
Being handled suited her just fine.
“You like that, Sofia?”
God, yes. I have to say? She nodded curtly.
“I thought so. Not only am I going to learn every bump and crevice”—his finger cruised up inside her and she jerked and moaned—“I’m also going to learn your mind.” He slipped out his finger. “Because your mind will help me learn how to make you squeal and wriggle. I like squealing, wriggling, squirming, sometimes even screa
ming.” His bit her neck for an excruciating second. Then he kissed the bite and added, “Leave your arms up high.”
He released her and stepped back. “Turn around, Sofia. Face the wall. Palms flat.”
She obeyed, feeling her breasts heave as she struggled to control her reaction to being commanded. If she let him, he would take her to whatever place he wished, do with her as she wished. He wanted a no before he’d stop. This was no pit in hell; this was her fantasy come true.
With his flattened palms, he drew slow arcs across her back, sides, and ass—warming her up like a sculptor playing with the clay before he formed some new creation. She sighed and hung her head, staring down at where her nipples poked out in little nubs. To have a man simply run his hands over her…bliss.
Then he came in close and molded his body to hers, his groin to her buttocks with the length of his erection settling into the divide of her buttocks. He flicked and sucked the lobe of her ear. “You have a wonderful ass, my lady. Tell me, what am I not allowed to do with it? There are so many ways I’d like to mark you.”
She shuddered at the pure lust in his voice—as if she were indeed some prize he’d waited years to find. Excitement zinged through her, livening her nipples to such tight points they throbbed. But what did he mean?
“Sofia?”
“I don’t know.” She exhaled a long, miserable breath and felt tears spring to her eyes. Then she shook her head again, over and over as she spoke. “I don’t know. I just know I…want! I just know what you are doing means so much to me. But what I want, I do not know. I wish I did! I thought I just…”
Oh God, those rape fantasies, but no. She sensed there was more than that. But what? I like him holding me, doing…things. Just that concept enthralled her.
“Shh. It’s okay.” The quiet rumble of his voice soothed her, and he drew her even closer with both arms wrapped under her breasts. “It’s okay. Then I think we will both enjoy finding out. As you said, you are a woman who can say yes and no when you need to.”
She snuggled back into his arms. The desire was there still, but simmering. The confusion had blown it away. “Yes, I can.” With her neck canted sideways, his chin rested just beneath her ear.
He shifted one arm, and then the sharp pain of a pinch zipped into her buttocks. She yelped and wriggled. Another pinch, and she jumped again. The heat connected with her clit. “Mmm.”
Dankyo chuckled. “There. Experiment number one. Pinching is good. See, we are making progress.”
“In pinching?” She screwed up her face. “I’m not sure this is— Hey!” Another pinch came an inch from her lower lips, in the crease of ass and thigh. “Ow. Wait!” But when she wriggled, delicious heat spilled through her. She squeezed her thighs together.
“The word, remember, is no, if you want me to stop. I think—”
Something banged and shattered the window like a musical explosion, blew a gust of wind and glass past her to tinkle where floor and wall met. A large curved fragment of bronze thunked into the plaster two feet from her nose and sat there hissing as it cooled. Smoke and dust curled into the air.
“Hell! What is that?”
“You have bare feet. Stay over here.” Dankyo bundled her onto the bed, then strode to the door, his hand already whisking a large revolver out from under his coat. As he held the door half closed, he frowned at her. “Remember. Stay. This will lock. I’ll be back.”
No shots were fired in the next few minutes. She listened, knees clasped to her body while she perched on the bed’s edge. Down below someone shouted, and perhaps men were running, but nothing worse than that. The noises subsided. The voices sounded calmer.
She wrinkled her nose at the shard still sticking from her wall, then chewed on her thumbnail while she came to a decision.
“No way am I staying here to be shish-kebabed by the next stray bit of whatever-the-hell that is.” This room seemed as perilous as anywhere in this foreign place, but Dankyo…despite all his dangerous airs, something about him said, safety.
Clothes, though—where were they? She fished under the bed for some shoes, then got up to look. If she could find some clothes that would also hide her face, she’d go find him.
Chapter Ten
All the people she encountered were far more interested in picking up debris than watching her. Careful to keep herself as inconspicuous as possible, she peered into a few rooms. Finally she found him inside a shed on the south side of the courtyard their room overlooked. Smoke still wafted through the double doors that had been slid open to their stoppers. Something within clanked and chugged like an ill-balanced steam engine. She slipped inside, making sure she didn’t impale herself on any of the metal debris strewn across the concrete floor.
Quiet as a mouse. She grinned. In the black tights and long black hooded shirt she’d found in the wardrobe, she might be a sleek and deadly ninja. She tugged off the hood.
A row of funnel-shaped voltaic lights dangled from the high ceiling, casting yellow tones over the timber workbenches and eliciting glints from the bronze and steel contraptions parked on the floor.
The most remarkable was an eight-feet-high man in verdigris green and gold. Chunky yet warlike, she thought. A standing replica of the Clockwork Warrior. The spiked head had been knocked crooked, and metal showed raw and twisted in the center where a nose might be expected. Above his back, steam hissed from torn pipes as round as her wrist. The machinery noises came from within his body.
The engine sounds stopped, and more steam gushed from his joints and wounded metal.
“Sofia.” A quiet word, but she jumped. Dankyo had seen her, and he moved toward her, as purposeful as an ironclad in full battle array. His pale shirt was streaked with black, and his face bore smudges as if he’d wiped his hand across his forehead.
Behind him a lean, gray-haired man poked energetically at the hissing steel statue using a wrench and a long screwdriver. A pair of strap-on binocular eyeglasses were tipped up on his forehead.
Dankyo’s eyes…oops. Mean as a wolf on a mission. She took a step back. Didn’t take much for this man to turn her into a quivering mess—half anxious, half aroused.
“What—” she began.
“You left. I said to stay. And you’re out by yourself? A slave without her Master?”
Her temper fired up. “I’m disguised! I never said I’d—” The words she meant to say vanished when he grabbed her collar between finger and thumb and stared down at her.
“Sofia. I had reasons. I always have reasons.”
She bit her lip, and peeked around him but barely had time to see the other man was paying them no notice.
A tug on the collar, and Dankyo’s hand on her chin brought her back. “Me, Sofia. Don’t look at Henry.”
His voice dropped into a barely there rumble that made her toes curl. “Later I’ll attend to this properly. I think your ass needs some reminding to stay where I tell it to.”
“What? My ass needs reminding?”
He nodded. “Precisely. I did say I’d reinforce my decisions with pain if I had to.”
The words sank into her like a sizzling stone to the bottom of a lake and stayed there bubbling, rippling outward, keeping her still. What was he planning? He released the collar.
Blinking, stunned, and still processing the echoes of nervousness and desire running crazily up and down her body, she watched him turn and walk back to Henry. Her feet couldn’t seem to move.
Do I go, or stay? Do the wrong thing and, and… God, what an arrogant asshole. But he’d left her one hundred feet high in the clouds, wondering what his hand would feel like on her backside.
She sucked in her first breath for ages. The room quivered into focus.
When he put his hand behind his back and crooked his finger, beckoning, relief freed her. She stepped forward.
Am I turning into an obedient little puppy dog? Never, surely?
Henry glanced at her, then circled the warrior replica, tapping with his screwdrive
r. “It’s a local metallurgy fault. Won’t happen again, sir. Once I sort this out. Just have to locate the faults. You know me. But, my word, amazing the way the trajectory of the fragments was so even. Straight as a ruler. Head height.” He pointed out the door. “Pow! If I hadn’t ducked…”
“Perhaps pow, but once those bits ricocheted off things, they went everywhere. A piece of him is stuck in my bedroom wall. And is he disarmed now? No more surprises?” Dankyo asked.
“No more.” Henry reached up and waggled a metal key that hung on a lanyard around his neck. “This is the disarm key.”
Dankyo enclosed her hand in his and drew her close. “Henry, this is Sofia.”
“Welcome! Welcome!” He grinned at her and shook her free hand in a manic way. “You’re the one here to solve the tomb puzzle. Yes?”
“Yes. I am. He’s a good copy.” She nodded at the metal man—anything to distract her from the way Dankyo was playing with her fingertips. Wherever he touched seemed to pulse with energy as if every nerve thrummed to life just so she could feel. It had been like this with her first boyfriend. But Dankyo wasn’t that, was he? This was merely a dalliance. A meeting of two people lusting after what the other could provide.
“A good copy? Was, maybe. Before he exploded. So you can solve the mystery?”
“I think I can.”
Dankyo squeezed her hand. “She’s a little overoptimistic.”
“Am not. Maybe a great lummox like you would find it difficult to solve, but it’s a piece of cake for me.”
“Great lummox?” He growled.
“Uh.” Oops again. “Small lummox?” she squeaked. This was the day for her ass to suffer, it seemed.
When Henry resumed poking at and tinging the metal, the sounds burrowed into her head and…clicked.
An idea seized her. “I think I can help you, Henry.” Though Dankyo didn’t let go of her left hand, she stooped to grab a second screwdriver from the tool box at her feet. Then she rose and did some tapping of her own.
Steel Dominance Page 8
