“What? Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You are?” Oh my God. “Then why’d you make me crawl?”
One eyebrow tilted; then he sat forward and said conspiratorially, “Because I wanted to see you fire up. And because I wanted to watch your ass.” A smile broke across his lips.
“Oh. Damn you. Don’t smile! Do not smile.” She frowned. How dare he want to see my butt, yet hell, that’s so sexy—knowing he looked.
“I lost control, and I never do that. We do have to be careful in public. However, I won’t guarantee not to look at your ass, especially in private.” A challenging glitter sparked in his eyes.
This was getting too personal. She shook her head. “You do not have permission to look at my ass.”
“Not yet.” His voice dropped even deeper. “Tomorrow you will tell me yes. After that I promise to do far more than look.”
The rumble of the car under her body seemed to drum his words in deep.
God. That again.
She looked aside. “I’m not… I never said—”
A rocket trail fizzed past the window.
An explosion ahead sent fragments rattling onto the metal skin of the vehicle. A tiny frosted star cracked in the front windshield. Flames blossomed, and they shot through a cloud of smoke. The car went by the two businessmen frantically clapping their heels to their horses’ sides to urge them to gallop faster.
Cold dread crackled through her. She watched openmouthed as the men and horses went past, then dwindled in the rear window. “Won’t they…mightn’t they get hurt? Can’t we stop?”
The chain clinked, and she realized Dankyo had freed her from the leash.
“The attackers will be aiming for us, not them.”
“What?” She stared at him and clenched her fingers into the curve of the leather seat. Her heart hammered into overdrive.
Something whirred, and metal shutters clattered down on all sides, darkening the interior even more. The divider slid down, and they could see blue and yellow blinking lights on the dashboard. An unarmored slit along the front windshield left the driver able to see. A periscope sight dropped and unfolded from the ceiling.
“Could sir check for hostiles?” the driver inquired.
“Of course. Armaments on this vehicle?”
“Just a Gatling miniturret linked to the periscope, sir. It pops up on the back section of the roof.”
All the military efficiency left her unsure what to do. Her mind whirled through the terrible possibilities of this attack. Was there something she should be doing?
With the efficiency of ingrained training, Dankyo sighted through the periscope, winding it around in a full circle with a purr of meshing cogwheels. “Just one man on foot heading north by north-west. Half a mile off. Departing the scene. He has a launcher.”
“Thank you, sir.” The driver unhooked a radiophony microphone and reported the finding before hanging up. “A landship patrol will check him out. Nothing to concern oneself about. The zealots never hit anything.”
With Dankyo manning the periscope, she had no one and nothing to hang on to except her own hands. Until they reached the city wall and drove through the enormous set of gates, Sofia sat upright, waiting for something to hit them. When the gates boomed shut behind the car, she sagged back onto the cushions.
* * * *
Safe at last—the zealots might have hopeless aim, but it never hurt to stay alert. His eyes would have circles around them from the periscope’s sight. The window shields slid away, and the internal opaque divider purred up into place. Dankyo relaxed back on the seat, blinked, and gave each socket a last rub before glancing at Sofia.
The woman looked terrified. Though she’d swiftly opened her eyes when he rocked the upholstery with his movements, the paleness about her mouth, and her stiffness betrayed her.
“Sofia. There’s nothing more to be afraid of.” He frowned. What do I do with a scared woman?
“I’m sorry.” She screwed up her mouth. “This is so stupid. I’ve just never been shot at before.”
“Ahh. You get used to it, in a way. Though fear is always there. That is natural.”
“Yes. I suppose.” Then she swallowed and looked fixedly out the window. “Palm trees are everywhere. Almost tropical?”
The talking was to distract him from her fear. Clear as crystal. He’d been in charge of enough soldiers to know. Can’t tell her to shape up or send her off to do field drill.
And he itched to touch her. She hadn’t said yes to him yet—though that other matter was simply mutual sexual attraction. This desire seemed different. He wanted to grab her and hug her until the little shakes in her hands died away. Damn. I’m being stupid. This is just sexual, and I shouldn’t make her think otherwise.
He sighed. “Come here.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
Doing was easier than saying. Besides, she was so obstinate, she’d likely say no. He reached out and pulled her into his side, then wrapped his arm about her shoulder. After a few seconds, he patted her. She relaxed into him. Another few seconds, and he began to rock her.
“Stop,” she said in a growly voice. “I’m not a baby.”
“Hmm.” He stopped.
“This is nice, though.” She snuggled in closer, and her next words came out muffled by his coat. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Her hair smelled like flowers, and he rested his nose near the top of her head, then inhaled softly.
“Are you sniffing my hair?”
He hadn’t been that obvious? “No.”
“Huh. You’re sure?” She wriggled and got more comfortable. “How long have you been with Lord Kevonis?”
“Fifteen years.” He didn’t have to think, knew it automatically.
“And you don’t have a girlfriend, back there?”
“No.” A little piece of serenity settled over him. Sitting with Sofia seemed to match something inside him perfectly, and his prickly state of alertness faded into the background for once.
“What’s my hair smell like?”
“Flowers.” Damn. He stared down at her.
Sofia shook with silent laughter. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. You’re so proper sometimes, and sniffing my hair is odd. Cute, but odd.”
“Odd!” He pinched her butt where it met the seat.
“Ow! Ow, ow! That’s”—she squealed when he did it again, and squirmed frantically—“enough!”
“You are too clever for your own good.” To show he’d forgiven her, he gave her a quick hug. A last suppressed giggle made him grin.
Then her fingers curled up within his, and a strange lump formed in his chest.
“If you’re so afraid at this first small danger, why are you here?”
She didn’t answer.
The car bumped onto some rougher surface, then cruised through a crowd of people of many races and countries. There was a mix of multicolored wraparound tunics, dresses, veils, bare faces, beards, turbans, trousers, and small caps. Byzantines and Ottomans mingled freely here. Faintly, the Greek and Ottoman languages filtered through the glass in the singsong cadence of traders announcing their wares.
Sofia turned her head and peeked up at him with those sea-green eyes. He recalled his first sight of her at the airfield. So attractive, and now she was in his arms. The glossy brown waves of her hair spilled over her back and his coat. At the same time that he wanted to just hold her close and comfort her, his groin stirred.
Concentrate on her words, not her body…and not on how her breasts swelled like soft hills from the yellow silk top.
He’d chosen this garment from a pile at the clothes shop. Taking it off her would be glorious. Making her take it off would be better.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” she asked drily.
“I am now.” He smiled down at her. “Go on.”
“Hmph. You smile a lot more than I thought you would, Mr. Dankyo. Anyway…why am I here? Because I have
to be. I don’t think you’ll understand, but this is something I have to do. I can taste this puzzle, I’m so close.” Her eyes lit up, and she lifted her head. “An ancient puzzle that no one can solve. No one! But I can do it. I can!”
“I think I do understand. There are some things in life you simply have to do. I understand that. Like I have been…” By Theo Kevonis’s side for all my adult life—his protector and sometimes confidant. Thank God, Byzantium is temporary. “I do understand.”
For a moment he cruised his gaze along her body and down to her thighs. She did a little wiggle with her legs as if something had made her uncomfortable, and he looked at her face. Their eyes met. Pinkness tinged her cheeks.
Is she blushing? “What are you thinking, little Sofia?”
“Um.” Squirming, she slipped from his arms, then adjusted her clothing. “Nothing. Nothing I’m saying to you anyway. Tell me. Are there many real dangers out there?” She gestured as if the dangers lay just beyond the windows.
Nothing she would say to him? What he wouldn’t give to lay her across his lap and smack her right there and then until she squeaked it out. Having her withhold something from him seemed wrong—tantalizing, and so very wrong.
He kept his arm lying along the top of the seat. If she wanted to get away from him, she had to squeeze up against the opposite door. Though her brow furrowed the tiniest amount, she stayed put. He toyed with a lock of her hair that had strayed across his fingers. If he tugged, he could haul her to him.
“Dangers? Here? That depends on our luck, forethought, and abilities.”
“All that?”
“Yes. The zealots are a minor problem. They’re a group of people who dislike the way the Qu’ran and the Bible fight it out here and yet also intermingle. Some zealots want Christianity. Some are for Islam. Most in the city don’t care for doing anything worse than verbally arguing their point on religion. The dangers are more from the Byzantine court intrigue. The emperor-bey panders to both sides. The Heraklos family wants his throne and are also happy to keep things running the same way as long as they can get hold of the reins.”
She nodded. “I’d heard that. And the Ottoman siege isn’t changing either?”
“No. There’s no indication of new trouble, apart from the assassination a few months ago. Money talks here, as it does anywhere, and business doesn’t want real war. So you’re safe as long as we keep quiet your search for the secret of this tomb.” He raised an eyebrow. “I assume there is some power to be gained from the tomb.”
“Yes. My research indicates that. So, if I am careful and we play our roles well, I will be safe?”
So sure of herself all of a sudden? He tweaked the curl of hair.
“Ow!”
“Safe from the Heraklos perhaps, but”—he moved over, cornered her, and took her chin between finger and thumb—“not from me.”
She did nothing. Her chest stopped moving, as if she waited to see what he’d do next.
So he lowered his head, watching her eyes and the dilation of her pupils as he did so, and kissed her sweet plump lips. Her gasp as he touched her mouth and nudged her lips apart made lust surge forth. He used his tongue to open her more, then slowly increased the force until her neck bowed back and she was caught between him and the seat. The curl wound around his finger made a nice anchor. His other hand he placed on her breast to circle the bump of her hardening nipple.
At last he lifted away and studied her. Eyes shut, and her mouth swollen, open, and panting. Her breasts rose and fell delightfully. He couldn’t resist cupping one and stroking his thumb across to feel the heaviness.
“Sofia.” Her name rolled from his tongue like a clear ocean wave—precious and pretty. He’d never thought a name could thrill him so much. “Don’t forget how to say yes.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Hmm? That was cheating,” she said huskily.
The hair sprang from his finger in a coil. He tucked it into the mass of her hair, then rested his head beside hers and spoke. The words came out softly in the intimate space between them, as if they exchanged some secret avowal. “Not cheating. I just wanted to sample the wares before I bought them.”
“Oh! You—”
“Shh.” He put a finger across her bruised lips. “We’re here. At court. Be good.”
Seeing her swallow and compose herself so she could pretend to be his slave was somehow pleasing. He liked her both ways—as a feisty beautiful goddess and as a subservient slave. Strange.
His finger still rested on her lips.
He’d never been interested in doing anything in public with Kirsten despite her pleas, yet with Sofia, especially after seeing how she’d reacted earlier with another man watching, he could imagine himself taking this so much further.
“Answer me this, dear Sofia. Are you the sort of woman who says yes when she means no? Or no when she means yes? This is important, so take your time to answer.” He glided his finger around in a slow, serpentine movement that brushed her lip, then her chin only to return again. She half closed her eyes.
The engine of the limousine had switched off, but the driver would wait until Dankyo signaled.
“No. Yes means yes. No means no.”
When her tongue tip darted from between her lips, he brushed it and felt the moisture cool on his skin.
“Good.” Then he slowly moved his finger downward, trailing over her throat, then lightly across the cloth around both nipples, and down farther to traverse her belly button and trace a circle around and around the edge of it while he watched her face. Only whisper-fine silk separated his fingertip from her bare flesh.
When he went to go lower, she grasped his wrist and said firmly. “No. Please.”
There was lust yet also determination in her gaze.
He took away his hand and pulled her clothes into place. “Time to meet the emperor-bey.” He’d let her have this extra day to think. To ache. She would be dying for release after that.
He’d always liked hunting, and Sofia was the most delicious prey he’d ever sought.
Chapter Six
Her blood was still knocking rapidly in her veins when she stepped out after Dankyo. One advantage of playing the slave was the view of his back. Big, broad, sexy. The way he’d looked at her in the car from inches away…after he’d kissed her. Her lips remembered how that had been. Dankyo of House Kevonis wanted her.
Little me—who’s never done anything more exciting than study too late at the university library. Half of her was ready to dissolve at his feet. The other half was appalled that she’d even think it. Bad, scandalous, maybe even promiscuous, were all labels that might fit.
This is not the path I planned. Father, and her brothers, Louis and Hector, would be disgusted. Her brothers liked to pretend the same outrage as her father. It was hard being the eldest girl, especially when all the men in the house thought you should be either making money being yet another shopkeeper, or married to someone solid.
Was Dankyo solid? Perhaps, on the outside, but even her pretending to be his slave would give her father a heart attack. Not that she cared what he thought anymore. Being told your father has washed his hands of you tended to do that. Galling, but she’d tucked it away, and it no longer hurt like it had once.
A stray thought popped into her head, and she almost smiled. Mother would wink and ask what Dankyo looked like naked.
“Come.” He motioned her forward.
The limousine had been drawn up beneath a broad roof big enough for a train station. Guards were everywhere in their antiquated but eye-catching chain mail and leather. Teamed with modern firearms, it made for a quaint look. Another group of people were ahead and being allowed through the double timber doors set into the wall of stone. A guard near them unslung his FREN rifle. She admired it. The gun would look good on the wall of her dorm room along with her Bedouin musket and sword.
Her subconscious poked out its nose and jolted her. The men, the maintenance men—the miniscule bulges under the o
veralls, the glimpse of shapes within the bags—the outlines came together in her mind like a jigsaw floating into being. Weapons. Her attention snapped back to Dankyo.
“Wait. Wait!”
He half turned. “What? You look pale.”
“Please believe this.” She talked staring at the ground, hoping no one thought she was being forward for a slave. “I have this…this thing I do. I solve puzzles. I see things others don’t, and they fit together in my head.”
He grunted. “Yes, I gathered this. Go on.”
“The maintenance men, at the airship, they were carrying weapons. Lots and lots.” When he looked skeptical, she bit her lip but then hurried on. “Please. I know this. Do you think it means something bad?”
She watched him from beneath her brow.
Nothing of Dankyo moved as he studied her for a long while. “Yes. If true, then yes. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I didn’t know.” Helpless to explain further, she pleaded with her eyes.
“Okay.”
He swiveled on his heel, went to the nearest guard, and had a terse conversation. The guard hurried away, and Dankyo returned to her. He shielded her with his body and spoke quietly.
“There’s too many people close, so listen but don’t reply. I’ve done what I could. They’ll send out some soldiers to check. From what I saw of Sten, if they were enemies, he’ll stand a good chance of besting them. Now, put this out of your mind.” He flexed his knees and bent down to whisper even softer. “I need you totally steady. When I hear more, I’ll say. Okay?” He looked in her eyes.
Forget what might be happening to those on the airship? To Sten, when he seemed so nice? Hard to do. Yet an idea hammered at her—Dankyo trusted her? Not many would have paid attention to her flimsy facts. Her heart seemed glow with warmth. She nodded and smiled.
“Good. You’re next. They want to put you to the sniff test.” Dankyo twitched his eyebrows upward. “Stand still.”
The what test?
A guard led forward a rotund clockwork creature like an anteater made from metal and wood. The creature unrolled its segmented nose and probed her all over, sniffing loudly as it went, sometimes suctioning the fine material to its snout. She jumped when it ventured too close to her crotch, and the guard chuckled.
Steel Dominance Page 5