by Mary Wine
“Your daughter’s condition is quite advanced.”
Howard forced himself to sit down and appear civilized. “How so?”
The doctor peered over the rim of his spectacles. “She is not responding to treatment, at least not in the manner that I had hoped.”
“I see.” Howard flattened his hands on the desktop. “Will you be sending her home now?”
“Absolutely not.” The doctor punctuated his comment with a tap from his cane. “It would be irresponsible of me. She is quite ill.”
“I am not following you,” Howard said.
The doctor held up a finger. “The infection stems from her mother. To sterilize it, I shall need to treat both of them. By neglecting to tell me of your wife’s familiarity with the Illuminists, you made this process much longer than necessary.”
“Now see here, sir, my wife is well-balanced.”
“Is that so?” The doctor leaned forward. “I find your faith in me lacking. Everything I told you about your daughter proved to be true.”
“Well…yes,” Howard admitted. “But I have never seen any symptoms from my wife.”
“You mean she has concealed her Illuminist weakness since your marriage.”
Howard stiffened. “Of course she has. It was the only condition under which I would wed her.”
The doctor shook his head. “And who was responsible for directing your daughter’s education?” He leaned forward as Howard settled back in his chair. “Did you give her freedom to instruct your child? Abovestairs? Behind closed doors?”
“Children belong in the nursery. It is the only civilized way for them to be raised,” Howard defended himself.
The doctor stamped his cane against the floor. “Your wife was a member of that foul collective. She reared your daughter to respect them while you remained confident that she was performing her motherly duties. Yet there is the difficulty. Your wife was raised on the milk of the Illuminists, and she passed it on to her daughter.”
Howard leaned forward. “So you cannot cure her?”
“Of course I can, but there would be little point in returning her here to be infected again. Your wife needs to join her daughter in treatment.”
Howard drew in a deep breath. “I sent her to the country.”
“Recall her.”
Howard nodded before really thinking the matter through. The doctor stood the moment he did and bid him good day. The empty house felt strange, the sound of his heartbeats growing louder as the silence became nearly deafening.
He slapped the desktop again and once more until the stinging of his palm distracted him from his emotions.
Logic was the way for civilized men to run their lives. Order produced contentment, while emotions only yielded chaos.
He reached for a sheet of paper and began to pen a letter. A very precise, logical message.
***
Her head ached.
It was the only reason Janette woke barely an hour after going to bed. At least, it was the only reason she’d admit. She hadn’t felt Darius in the room with her—no, she would not allow him to invade her dreams. Even if she was lying to herself. The man had been in her dreams.
Her bedchamber was dark and silent, but as sleep cleared from her mind, she looked about, searching for what had awakened her. She could feel the man near her, as if another sense had appeared with her introduction to him. It irritated her, making her restless because she always seemed to be thinking of him.
Tonight, it was worse than usual. She couldn’t seem to banish the feeling that he was watching her. His men were at their post most certainly, but the feeling of being watched was much stronger. She was tired but fully awake, and closing her eyes felt wrong—dangerous, actually.
Passing her fingers over the base of the bedside table lamp, she pushed the operating crystals closer together until soft light illuminated the room. Only the bare essentials furnished it, but she still wasn’t satisfied just by seeing that she was alone. The dark outer room teased her with possibilities.
She felt like she was being studied. A tingle of awareness went down her spine, but it wasn’t frightening. She owed that to Darius. She felt secure in the building because it was under his charge, and yet the feeling that she wasn’t alone persisted.
She pushed the bedding aside and stood.
“Who’s there?” She strained to see through the shadows of the entry room, searching for the owner of the gaze she could feel on her. “I know you are there…”
“But you cannot see me. Still, your instincts are good, Janette.”
She jumped. Darius materialized from the shadows with a look of satisfaction on his face.
“You certainly needn’t appear so pleased by the fact that you…” She hesitated over admitting just how upset she felt.
“Frightened you?” He closed the distance between them, and she realized he’d left his overjacket somewhere. He was clad in only a vest, his shirt-sleeves bare. Heat teased her cheeks as she noticed, the knowledge oddly intimate. It was the first time he had looked at ease. The man had always been so frustratingly formal in her presence.
Except for when he kisses you…
“You simply startled me.” She lifted her chin and forced her lips into a smooth line. “It isn’t very kind of you, Mr. Lawley.”
“Then why did you jump?”
His tone was full of arrogance, and perhaps if he’d been in his overcoat and cravat, she might have swallowed the urge to argue with him.
“Why? Because you appeared in my bedchamber in the dark of night when I am not accustomed to receiving company. You are quite mistaken to insinuate otherwise, Mr. Lawley.” She drew out his last name and watched his eyes narrow. Good. The man deserved to be set down, even if she didn’t believe he’d remain there for long.
His ear device was still in place, but his hat was missing, granting her a rare, unobstructed view of his dark hair. It didn’t lay smooth but curled slightly, increasing the feeling of intimacy. Heat stung her cheeks, and his gaze settled on the telltale stain.
He bent slightly, offering her a bow that was just as informal as his clothing. Yet somehow it felt more sincere than any courtesy he’d ever offered her. For the moment, he wasn’t a Guardian and she wasn’t a novice. It made her tremble. The need they tried to cover up with their formalities was more than happy to be allowed free.
“My purpose was to uphold my duty by ensuring you did not overlook seeing a doctor after your accident today. Yet you are correct. My approach is less than appropriate.”
He was studying the side of her head. She reached up, feeling only a slight tenderness now.
“I am fine and old enough to decide if I need medical attention.” She had to temper the urge to snap at him again. She looked away, worrying her lower lip as she tried to still the tempest brewing inside her. The storm of emotions defied her comprehension. She should have been alarmed to be standing there in naught but a chemise; instead, her thoughts dwelled on just how much she liked his lack of formality.
Her father was correct about one thing: becoming an Illuminist was certainly causing her to behave wantonly…or at least to think that way.
But for now, they were only two people, their allegiances discarded. Relief traveled through her like an evening breeze on a summer day, leaving her to simply enjoy the moment. His dark gaze studied her, and for a long moment, it looked like he was enjoying himself as well.
“You are unaccustomed to just how deadly Asian fighting arts are. A single kick can kill, Janette.”
His tone was firm and edged with authority. It crushed the mood, allowing her to look back at him and see only the Guardian he’d been for the last few months. She was suddenly sick of the battle between them. “I don’t want to quarrel; it’s been a long day. Don’t you trust your night Guardians to be as dedicated as you? They saw me as I entered and asked after my welfare.”
His lips twitched, granting her a flash of teeth. “I don’t trust you not to speak up out of
some sense of invasion of privacy or hesitate because your recent encounter with a so-called doctor was less than pleasant.”
The heat burning her cheeks doubled. His attention shifted to it, but there was no real way he could see her blushing in the darkened room. “I understand the risks of the class. Besides, I am not so foolish as to ignore my own health.”
Even if he’d uncovered something she’d liked to avoid thinking about. A tiny shiver traveled across her skin as she recalled the matron and orderlies at the clinic.
“I would have gone for help if I needed it,” she insisted to dispel the memory. There would be no lingering trauma from the clinic. She refused to allow Dr. Nerval such a hold over her.
“You may see for yourself.”
She turned her head so the light bathed the spot Decima had hit. But he reached out to trail his fingers across the hot surface of her cheek instead of the place he claimed to be concerned about. Such a simple touch, but it sent her heart beating faster.
“But something else is affecting you, Janette. Something you’re fighting to ignore.”
“You’re being inappropriate again,” she scolded softly. “I didn’t invite you here.”
He chuckled and stroked her cheek once more. This time he stepped closer and she retreated, only to have the wall stop her. His hand slid upward into her unbound hair.
“You have, with every flutter of your eyelashes when you pass me in the hallway. Every time I see you, your cheeks turn scarlet, and that is without a doubt an invitation of the most personal kind.”
“You’re only seeing what you want to see. Looking for justification for your forwardness.”
His lips thinned. “I’m being truthful. You wanted to be an Illuminist. Truthfulness is part of our nature.”
“What you are being is bold, Darius, and it has nothing to do with the Order you serve.”
He combed his fingers through her hair, and the sensation silenced her. It was overwhelming, so many points of awareness being triggered by so gentle a touch. He returned to her nape, cupping it in a solid grip she recalled very well. The memory had appeared often in her dreams.
“Which is your fault for appearing like a siren.”
“I was in bed. Besides, I am not so irresistible.” But she was breathless. Her lungs were working double time to keep pace with her racing heart, and she could smell his skin now with each quick-drawn breath. It was dark and hard, and when combined with the way he held her neck, rational thought threatened to escape her completely. She didn’t want to think; she wanted to fall back into the swirling storm of emotions and experience them fully.
One dark eyebrow rose. “I beg to differ,” he whispered. “Your effect on my defenses is devastating.”
He moved close enough that she could feel his breath against her lips. He pressed closer to her and placed a gentle kiss against the burning warmth of her cheek.
“The light in your bedroom illuminates every curve through the ever-so-delicate fabric of your chemise. Even the hard points of your nipples were illuminated to draw me to you.”
She gasped and tried to push him away, but he had her pinned to the wall.
“Either you are a calculating female or ignorant.” Another kiss landed on her temple before he raised her face to look into her eyes.
“I am not ignorant.” The retort came from her pride before her common sense intruded enough to warn her.
“Then I happily accept your invitation.”
“It wasn’t—”
He silenced her with a kiss. It was harder and more demanding than the ones she recalled, but something inside her approved wholeheartedly, that wild, primitive need that had bothered her every night since the last time he touched her. It consumed her like a fever, rising to engulf every inch of her while he pressed her mouth to open. It wasn’t a request, not a gentle teasing, but raw demand. A hand landed on her hip, smoothing over the curve and up the indentation of her waist until he brushed the side of her breast.
She shivered, but he didn’t stop. He cupped her breast and brushed his thumb across the puckered nipple.
“Exactly as I witnessed.” His fingers teasing the hard nub.
He was nearly growling, but that pleased her; the sure evidence that she had pushed him beyond his polite persona fed the wildness swirling around inside her.
“Exactly what I cannot resist…”
He trailed a line of kisses down her neck, hungry, needy ones that set off a yearning deep inside her belly. She found herself straining toward him, offering herself to him as he moved lower to where he was still cupping the mound of her breast.
“Oh sweet Christ…” She moaned when his mouth closed around her nipple, the thin cotton nothing between them as he sucked the entire tip inside his mouth. He toyed with the sensitive peak, circling it with the tip of his tongue while he cupped the entire mound to hold it in place. His other hand found the curve of her hip and slid around until he was urging her forward and bending her back to allow him better access to her breast.
It was insanity, yet she didn’t fear the surge of emotions boiling over the top of her self-control. It felt natural, as though she’d known exactly what she wanted, despite not really understanding how her desires might be satisfied.
But she did have one fear. It pushed its way past the delight wrapping around her.
“Go away if all you are going to do is tease me, Darius.”
He lifted his head, the light behind him making it impossible to read his expression. He was part of the night and yet solid beneath her fingertips. More than solid, he was hot, and she could feel the beat of his heart.
But she resisted being drawn down into the web of sensations before making her own demand.
“I mean it.” She curled her hands into fists and pushed against him. “I’ve spent enough dark hours longing for what you start but never finish.”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking.”
But he did. She could hear it in his tone—hard and edged with a promise that sent a shaft of need tearing through her belly. She felt empty, the walls of her passage transmitting how much they wanted to be stretched around his male organ. Oh yes, she understood the carnal nature of her yearnings, and with the darkness surrounding them, ignoring her desires didn’t seem so important. Being truthful did.
“I understand that you make me want you in my bed.”
She slid along the wall until she could move away from him. Her chemise billowed as she moved, allowing the crisp night air to tease her overheated skin. “You know what you are doing, which makes it the worst sort of unkindness to tease me with kisses before you rip yourself away, glowering at me as though I’ve tried to sully your virtue. Well, Darius Lawley, you entered my private chambers tonight, so don’t you dare attempt to pin the guilt on me. Take responsibility for your actions. You’re an Illuminist, after all.”
He growled softly and followed her, stalking her slowly. “You’re justified in that accusation, Janette.”
She bumped into the opposite wall, and he braced his arm across the space to keep her pinned in the corner. Raw emotion blazed from his eyes, fascinating her.
“I’m drawn to you, in spite of every logical argument.” He moved closer. “In spite of every suspicion I harbor about you, I still came here tonight, still lost the battle to stay away from you.”
“And you are still angry with me for it,” she said, his words hurting her pride. “A high-society girl isn’t good enough for you? Just wait. I’ll make something of myself. Your world is not too much for me to handle, and neither is anything you can tempt me with.”
She stepped up to him and slid her hands over his jaw. A shiver shot down her spine instantly. She savored the sensation, moving her hands slowly before lifting them away. A tiny sound of regret escaped her lips.
“I can shoulder responsibility for my actions, but I refuse to allow you to accuse me of causing your fall from grace.”
She ducked beneath his arm, full of l
onging but satisfied with herself. She’d faced him like an equal, like an Illuminist.
But he caught her about the waist, binding her to his length as he placed a kiss against the side of her neck. So quickly she was at his mercy; he controlled her completely while she felt the unmistakable tremor of him fighting to hold on to his control.
“I fell from grace long ago…” He cupped her chin and raised it to expose the full expanse of her throat to his lips. “I’m drawn to you by the promise of regaining what I lost.”
He silenced her reply beneath a kiss that threatened to burn her. She’d never known another human might be so warm or that she could enjoy a kiss so much. He grasped her hair, maintaining control of her head while she turned to face him. His mouth slipped along the delicate surface of her lips before pressing her to open her mouth for something deeper.
When she yielded, his tongue swept across her lower lip before thrusting down to tangle with her own. She jerked, twisting away from him because there were too many points of sensation; it was impossible to understand what she wanted to do. But he kept her steady, stroking his tongue across hers until she mimicked the motion.
She thought they’d kissed before, but she had been naïve. Now she truly understood what passion tasted like. It was consuming and intoxicating, blinding her to everything but the next touch. Darius didn’t make her wait for it. He released her hair and slid his hands down the sides of her body, slowly, too slowly for the need pulsing in time with her racing heart. She reached for him, cupping the sides of his head, but froze when her fingers encountered the cold metal gears of his earpiece.
He was still on duty.
And yet he continued to kiss her, fanning the flames licking at her insides. All of it was threatening to send her emotions boiling over, and she couldn’t bear to have him turn his back on her. She feared she’d abandon every scrap of pride she had just to stand up to him if he left her now.
She pulled on the earpiece, trying to disconnect him from the duty he was so dedicated to.
He lifted his head, interrupting their kiss. The light shone off his eyes as his hand stopped hers from lifting the bit of technology away. She could see the protest flickering in his eyes.