“And get you away, too.”
He shrugged.
Georgiana frowned. “That’s not something to be dismissed, Thom.”
Though he didn’t argue, she saw the response in the bleakness of his eyes. As long as she got away, Thom didn’t think it mattered if he did.
Or maybe he didn’t think that was a possibility anymore.
But he was wrong on both counts. He would escape with her. And she would fight for him to stay with her.
Maybe that wouldn’t be their future, though. It hurt so much to think it might not be. But whether he stayed or not, she needed him to know he did matter.
More than anything.
“Thom.” Gently, she cupped his face in her hands. “I know you felt that you’ve never brought me anything worth having. But you did. You brought yourself back—and you’re worth more to me than a hundred thousand chests full of gold.”
And for the first time, he didn’t quietly shake his head or insist he should have done more or apologize for not supporting her. His throat worked, but his only response was a rough whisper. “Georgie.”
“Thom.” Smiling, she softly pressed her lips to his, then the corner of his mouth, and the silky beard over his jaw. “Today, you were the only light I knew. While you were gone, I only felt fear and rage. But then you came back to me, and there was hope and joy again.”
His eyes closed. “That’s all there is when I see you. And fear when I think you might be hurt. I’d risk anything to stop it.”
“As I would for you.” She lightly kissed his mouth again. “And I was terrified when I discovered that you were diving four hundred feet. You didn’t have to lie to me, Thom.”
He looked at her again, his arms tightening around her. “I didn’t want you to be afraid.”
“But I was, anyway.”
“I wanted to protect you from that.”
“And you don’t have to.” Sliding her hands around the back of his head, she pushed her fingers into his thick hair, still rumpled from his long sleep. “I suspect there is much in you that you don’t let me see or know, because you think I’ll be frightened or you need to protect me. Please don’t hide it anymore, Thom. Don’t hold it back. I have no right to ask this of you. But I want to be with the man that you are, rather than the man you think you should be.”
His body stiffened against hers. “No holding back?”
“Not with me. With others, do as you please.” She didn’t want to share him, anyway.
He stared up at her, his blue eyes slowly beginning to burn. Georgiana’s gaze fell to his mouth, and she suddenly felt every inch of her dress twisted around her legs and stretched across her breasts.
“All right.” Abruptly, Thom lifted her against his chest, carried her to the bed.
And left her there.
Uncertain, Georgiana watched him move to the wardrobe. Reaching behind his neck, he dragged his shirt over his head.
Without looking at her, he said gruffly, “You’d best get that dress off.”
Oh. With heat in her cheeks, she quickly unfastened the buttons at her throat. Her gaze followed Thom to the vanity. Oh, but he was a fine man—his back muscular and broad, his wide shoulders a smooth meld of flesh and steel.
Water splashed into a bowl. Thom’s eyes met hers in the oval mirror hanging above the vanity, then he looked down and began lathering his beard.
Shaving.
Her breath stilled. Thom had done this every time he’d come to her bed, but she’d never watched him before. His soapy fingers moved in sure, even strokes. With his trousers hanging low on his hips, he braced his left hand against the edge of the vanity and leaned in closer to the mirror. His weight shifted to his right foot, left leg slightly bent, and his back was not just a beautiful sculpture now but the most arousing thing she’d ever seen, the muscles bunching over his left shoulder and smoothing along his ribs, and the groove of his spine the perfect width for her fingertips.
The razor scraped over his jaw, the rasp of it like a slow abrasion over her skin. Her heart thudded, as if her blood suddenly ran thick. With trembling fingers, she finished unfastening her dress and stripped it off, leaving her clad only in a chemise.
Hands lifting to her nape, she began unpinning her hair. At the vanity, the razor clinked against the bowl before swirling through water. Tipping his jaw back, Thom scraped beneath his chin. Soapy water ran in thin rivulets past the hollow of his throat, down the center of his thickly muscled chest. Her lips parting in envy, Georgiana followed the soapy path in the mirror, until the lather slipped past the bottom of the oval frame.
When she glanced back up, Thom was watching her in the reflection. Tilting his head slightly, he scraped another swath up his throat.
“You’ll have me again, Georgiana?”
Have him. She clenched her thighs, trying to ease the sudden ache. “Yes.”
“I promised myself I wouldn’t.” He glanced down. The razor clinked and swirled. “After the last time, I promised I wouldn’t risk hurting you again.”
And they’d both said and done and promised far too many things based on what they’d thought was true of each other, rather than what was true. “I think we should forget about all of the promises we ever made, and make new ones, instead.”
He nodded. With his thumb, he pulled the skin taut at the sharp corner of his jaw. The scrape sent another delicious shiver racing across her nerves.
“And, Thom”—she waited until he glanced up—“you didn’t hurt me the last time. I just didn’t know how to tell you how much I was liking it.”
He stared at her in the mirror for a long second, eyes narrowed. “That’s truth?”
“Yes.”
With a nod, he angled his chin, scraped away the last of the lather and whiskers. Water splashed. When he looked up, his strong jaw had been rinsed clean.
He turned toward her, not bothering with a towel. A swipe of his hand flicked the soapy water from his chest.
“Here’s my first new promise, then.” He rounded the foot of the bed, untying the front of his trousers as he walked. The thick weave strained across his heavy erection. “Tonight, I’ll have you over and over again.”
Oh, sweet God. Arousal pulsed through her in a thick, liquid beat. She rose up on her knees at the edge of the mattress, waiting for him. “And I’ll finally touch you like I wanted to.”
Passion roughened his voice to a growl. “You’ll get your chance when I’m done.”
All at once, Thom captured her face between his palms, and his mouth slanted over hers for a ravenous taste. With an eager moan, Georgiana wound her arms around his neck, opening to the stroke of his tongue past her lips. The scent of soap and wet, bare skin filled her senses. He clutched her to his chest, the damp linen of her chemise clinging to her breasts.
All too soon, he broke the kiss. Standing against the bed, he pushed her back to the mattress. His big hands gripped her hips and dragged her bottom almost to the edge, hooking her knees up around his sides. Her chemise slipped down, exposing her thighs. Thom stilled, staring, and with a sudden groan, shoved her hem up over her thighs, her hips, higher, as if once he’d begun to bare her skin he couldn’t stop. Frantic with need, Georgiana helped him, lifting her bottom and wriggling the material free of her shoulders. He tore the chemise over her head before leaning over and taking her mouth again, hot and deep.
Cool metal slipped between her thighs. Georgiana arched up against his hand. “Inside me, Thom. Please.”
“Not yet.” He looked down at her, his face taut with strain. “Because I touched you last night, Georgie, but what I’ve dreamed of most isn’t what I’ll do with my hands.”
His head dipped to her breast. At the same moment his fingers pushed inside her, he latched onto the throbbing tip. His cheeks hollowed, sucking her nipple to a burning point.
Georgiana cried out, her body lifting in a rigid bow. Her hands fisted against the sheets. With a hungry moan, he lifted his head and moved to her o
ther breast. Hot and wet, his mouth closed over her nipple. Between her legs, the rhythm of his fingers quickened, his thumb relentlessly sliding over her aching knot of flesh.
“Thom!” Overwhelmed by pleasure, Georgiana rolled her hips, her thighs tightening against his sides. “Thom, please!”
“Your taste. Sweet fucking blue, Georgie.” He pulled back, his hand leaving her empty. His bold features set in a mask of insatiable need, he dropped to his knees. “I need more.”
His head dove between her thighs.
“Thom!”
Shocked beyond bearing, she screamed his name. Her fingers stabbed through his thick hair, tried to pull him up, but the heated swirl of his tongue twisted shock into pleasure. She keened low in her throat, rocking against his mouth. And there must have been something hidden within her, too—something wild and fierce and needy, like a storm at sea, lashing at her with every slow lick. Her head thrashed against the sheet, her body anchored only by his hands on her hips, his tongue and his lips.
And she crashed, splintering. He moaned against her, licking as she shuddered and cried his name. Then he rose up, a sheen of sweat slick over his skin, his lips wet.
Lifting her, he sat at the edge of the bed, settling her over him. Georgiana straddled his thighs, his erection a hot iron bar against her stomach.
She’d never seen him this way before. Only flaccid in fever and sleep, only as a softening bulge beneath his drawers. But he was so much thicker and longer. Looking at his arousal now, she didn’t wonder why their coupling had hurt so much the first times. The only mystery was how it had ever felt so good the last time.
But it had. She remembered exactly how much.
“As slow as you need to, Georgie.” His voice was hoarse, every muscle in his body as hard as his arms. “Even if you take all night to fill yourself up with my cock, I’ll hold back until you tell me you’re all right. And then I’ll never hold back again.”
Rough, explicit words, but no embarrassment or shock was left in Georgiana—only her desperate need to feel him inside her. Rising up, she braced her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes locked with his when the broad crown slid through her slick folds and lodged against her entrance.
Without hesitation she took him in, easing down over his heavy shaft. No pain at all. No discomfort. Just full. So full. Her head fell back on a moan, and she slowly undulated her hips, taking him deeper and deeper.
Until she couldn’t take any more, stopping with her legs spread wide, her bottom against the tops of his thighs. Panting, she looked down, where their bodies melded together as seamlessly as flesh and steel.
Filled with his cock. A perfect, impossible fit.
Rigid with strain, Thom shook against her. “You’re all right, Georgie?”
“Yes. Oh, Thom.” No holding back. Not when he was so deep inside her. “You feel so good.”
His fingers clenched on her bottom. She rose up again at the urging of his hands, then cried out as he pushed her back down, filling her again.
Fingers catching in her hair, he brought her gaze to his. “This time, you know how to tell me that you like it.”
“I do. So much.” She drew a shuddering breath. Every tiny movement seemed to stretch her sheath tighter around his thick shaft. “Do you?”
“Do I?” A tortured laugh rumbled through his chest, ending on a groan. “I love being in you. You’re so tight, squeezing around me. So hot. I can’t ever get deep enough, Georgie. But I’m going to try.”
Hands locked over her hips, he surged upward. With a strangled cry, Georgiana took him deeper, pleasure searing her senses. She rose up with him, then he filled her with his cock again, just as she wanted, needed. The wild ferocity rushed over her, driving her up against him over and over, her fingers clenching in his hair, sharing his breath as she rode, faster and faster, his face the only thing in her sight.
Then she was there, her mouth feeding greedily from his as her body clenched around him, tighter and tighter, before leaving her liquid and boneless.
Groaning, Thom eased her onto her back. “Wrap your legs around me, Georgie. Tighter. Sweet blue, you’re so wet I could drown in it. Pull me in deep.”
Loving the heavy feel of him over her, she ran her fingers down the flexing muscles of his back. Hands braced beside her shoulders, he lowered his mouth to hers—just as he had the first time, and the second, and the third, but this was nothing like before, with no clothes between them and her hands roaming free, and Thom not slow and careful now. He drove into her, each deep plunge bringing Georgiana back with him, not liquid anymore but soon tense and frantic, writhing beneath him, his heavy thrusts wringing desperate cries of need and frustration from her lips. Not holding back but giving—all the pleasure he could, and when she came again, the clench of her sheath seemed to destroy any remaining control. Lunging forward with a broken yell, Thom held himself deep, pulsing inside her.
Then he kissed her, hot and sweet and smiling. He rolled onto his back, holding her against him—and Georgiana made her second new promise to herself.
She was never letting him go again.
SEVEN
Thom woke just after dawn with Georgie’s head pillowed on his chest and her dark hair spread over his shoulder. This time, he didn’t feel her wake up in his arms—her eyes were already open, her gaze fixed on the porthole.
Probably imagining their escape.
As if sensing he’d woken, she said, “I’m trying to think of something clever. Or not so clever, if stupidity will get us away just the same.”
“I’ll do what I can to delay and just bring up part of that gold, or convince them to wait for the submersible.” Closing his eyes, he breathed in the scent of her hair. The third morning away from home, only a faint hint of flower remained. He wanted to destroy Southampton for that alone. “But if I come up and he’s set on killing us, I’m going to bring the ship down and get you into that boat.”
“I wish we could get into it now.” She turned her head to look up at him, crooking her arm over his chest and cradling her chin against the roll of her fist. Her full lips pursed. “Or climb on top of the balloon. We could hide up there while they wonder where we went, and hang on until they fly back to some port.”
Thoughtfully, Thom nodded. “We could, at that.”
“I wasn’t serious. That was a not-so-clever suggestion.”
He knew. Between the cold, the wind, and no knowing where they were going or when they’d get food, the top of a balloon could be a death trap. “It’s better than other options we have.”
She sighed heavily against him, acknowledging that sad fact. “Is there anything on Oriana that you can bring up? Perhaps something that we could attach to the bottom of the platform—or to the tether, just below the surface—and keep it hidden until we need it?”
Offhand, he couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t be noticed. “I’ll look around.”
“Be careful, though. It isn’t worth your being trapped in a wreck.” Her eyes were somber as she regarded him. After a moment, a faint smile curved her lips. “It’s odd to say this, Thom, but despite not yet having an escape, and despite Southampton’s threats—I am happier at this moment than I’ve ever been.”
He was, too. “I’ll be happier when we are away.”
Georgie laughed and dropped a kiss to his chest, directly over his heart. “I will be, too.”
And she was full of more smiles and kisses after they rose from the bed, as she helped him into his diving suit—and when he teased her, full of laughter and blushes and cries of Thom!
Until sunrise, when Southampton knocked at the door—and told Thom that if every single coin wasn’t aboard the airship by the end of the day, he and Georgie would both be dead.
* * *
Within an hour, Georgiana was watching the sea again, endlessly cranking the pump. On the other side of the coiled air hose, Mrs. Winch sat at the edge of the platform, her bare feet dangling into the cold water and a cigarillo between h
er lips.
Unlike Mr. Blade, she obviously had no interest in harassing Georgiana. They’d barely exchanged any words since the platform had descended.
That suited Georgiana. Her worry for Thom kept her company—as did thoughts of escape. But she hadn’t yet figured out how . . . and if they didn’t delay Southampton’s leaving for one more day, she and Thom would likely never find the opportunity.
Tonight would be their only chance, and the submersible was their best hope of securing that extra time. But Georgiana didn’t believe the machine would tempt Southampton. Though valuable, the twenty or thirty livre it might bring at market would be nothing to a man who would soon possess thousands of gold coins.
It would be a hefty sum to mercenaries, however—probably more than Southampton had paid them for this job.
So Georgiana would try to tempt them, instead. Over the noise of the pump, she said, “I hope Thom will bring up the submersible as well. It’s worth quite a sum. Not as much as the gold, of course—though if Southampton gives all the coins back to the Crown, I suppose he will walk away with nothing extra.”
For a long second, Mrs. Winch studied her through a small cloud of smoke. Then she nodded and said, “I don’t understand bringing the gold up at all if his lordship just gives it away.”
“I suppose you would earn a larger percentage if Southampton also recovered any treasure for himself. If there was something coming up from Oriana that Southampton wasn’t giving away, its value could make up for the additional time you’ve spent on this job.”
Winch’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to buy me off, Mrs. Thomas?”
Georgiana hadn’t been, but she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity. “Yes. Could I?”
The other woman smiled and shook her head. “In my profession, there’s only two things that matter aside from the money: the job you’re doing, and the next job you’ll get. And anyone who gets a reputation for sinking one job when a bit of gold is flashed in front of her won’t be getting another job.”
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