by Bec McMaster
Oh. "He's...?"
"Dead," Kincaid muttered. "His heart gave out on him three years ago, a month before I finally escaped the enclaves. There's irony for you. I never got to see him again. I spent ten years in that hell, and his heart couldn't bloody wait one more damned month."
Ava slid her hand over his, a pulse of sympathy sliding through her, but Kincaid shook it off. "Sorry, luv," he said, shooting her an insincere smile as he sat up. "There's things a man can speak of, but I draw the line at being pitied."
"I wasn't pitying you."
"No?"
"No. I was seeking to... to offer comfort."
This time, the look he gave her was hot and slow. Kincaid finally sighed. "It would be almost too easy."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing." Kincaid rolled onto his knees. "Don't ever change," he murmured in her ear, before pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. The heat of his breath ghosted across her jaw, and a shiver ran through her.
His face lingered there, and Ava turned wide eyes toward him, holding her breath. It would be terribly easy to remove the distance between them, but she was suddenly shy again.
He backed away, as if he knew precisely what was going through her mind. Ava cleared her throat, feeling awash in an unknown wave of heat. Good lord. He'd barely even brushed his lips against her cheek. Yes, but he's practically naked. And suddenly her mind was taking her down dark avenues she'd never truly explored. "I won't change. I don't think I'd even know how."
"It's part of your charm."
"Charm," she scoffed. "Now I know you're jesting—"
Kincaid captured her jaw, forcing her to meet his suddenly steely gaze. "There can be charm in honesty, Ava. Charm in a woman who is so blatantly unaware of her own enticements. Charm in an innocently curious gaze."
And she was blushing again, for he'd noticed where she was looking. "I'm a scientist. I cannot help feeling curious."
"So I've noticed. But if you were truly scientific, then you'd be more interested in putting a theory into practice."
Those eyes twinkled with mischief. Daring her.
Ava looked down. To the thumb just brushing against the pulse at the inside of her wrist. She swallowed.
"You know what I'm talking about, Ava."
"I thought you refused to have anything to do with virgins." Somehow she managed to meet his gaze, though her cheeks burned. "You told me that once. So how can I consider your proposition to be a serious one?"
"There's a part of me that is reevaluating that rule. Every damned time I look at you, lately. My rules are simple: don't play with virgins. Don't break hearts. Make the rules clear from the start. But—"
"But?" she dared, the sensation in her chest expanding, leaving her slightly dizzy.
"Ava," he warned. "Don't start a game you won't finish. I will play along. To a certain point. But I don't like being trifled with."
Ava couldn't help thinking about her earlier realization that although she'd survived and put her life back together, there were quite a few things she hadn't experienced.
A proper kiss, for example.
Her gaze slid to Kincaid's mouth. Paul—her ex-fiancé's—kisses had been dutiful, and she'd seen Perry and Garrett steal enough kisses in the Nighthawks guild to know when she was missing out. Those types of kisses did not seem anything like the chaste caress Paul pressed upon her once upon a time.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Kincaid breathed.
She crossed her arms over her nightgown. It was strange how safe she felt with him in her room, at night, when she wore little more than thin cotton. Kincaid gave the devil a run for his money when it came to mischief, but he obeyed a peculiar set of rules he'd set himself.
Maybe I could use him to test out some of my theories? a little voice whispered. Maybe we could both give each other pleasure? He wanted her, after all, and she was very curious about what, exactly, he would do to her.
Suddenly she felt like she had an answer to his proposition.
Nobody would get hurt. She knew what she was entering into. An experiment. A purely physical one. Exactly what Perry had recommended she do.
She couldn't deny she was attracted to Kincaid in a physical way, but she also quite liked him. The craving virus roused the primal side of one's nature, but she couldn't entirely blame this... this lust upon it. She wanted those strong hands on her bare skin. She wanted to touch Kincaid, to lick him, to taste those devilish lips, in a way she'd never felt before.
None of this made any sense at all, except for the demanding pulse of the ache between her thighs.
"What if I do intend to finish it?" She was tired of living within the rules—tired of being polite, and letting her own desires go unanswered. Perry's suggestion had only exacerbated the sense of frustration.
And the more she thought about it, the more Kincaid seemed to be the perfect answer to her problems.
Even if her words wiped the smile off his face.
"Are you sure you know what you're asking for?" he asked, pushing away from the bed and pacing across the room, the bulky form of the mechanical brace that girdled his hips and thighs bulging beneath his trousers. She wished she knew why he wore it.
Ava sat up on her knees, leaving her a little chilled as her blankets fell away. "Yes, I do. I trust you. And this attraction doesn't seem to be going away, so why not?"
"I know women. You're not the sort to enjoy an affair if your heart is not involved. And I'm not offerin' a future, Ava. I need you to understand that."
"Pfft." She waved the thought away, determined now she'd made up her mind. "You might have a good deal of experience with women, but you forget something. I am not like most women. I'm a scientist, Mr. Kincaid. You said yourself, this makes sense in a logical, rational way. And you present a very intriguing dilemma for me. I have never felt so curious about... about a man's body before. When you are in the same room with me, I am—" She searched for the means to say it. "—overcome with purely physical desires. I cannot stop thinking about it, and it's quite vexing. Usually when I am interested in a man, it is because I find him charming, or he is nice to me, or I admire his manners, or—"
"Or in the case of Byrnes, you found him comfortable to be around." Kincaid crossed his arms over his chest as he faced her.
"Ye-es," she said carefully. "He was easy to be around because he accepted me as I was, without seeking to change me or disapproving of the way I think. You don't know how rare that is." Again, she thought of Paul, the man who hadn't entirely approved of her. She didn't blame him for moving on when he thought she was dead, after Hague kidnapped her, but at the time the loss had hurt her.
It didn't anymore.
Kincaid's eyes narrowed. "Did you ever want to kiss Byrnes?"
"Well," she sputtered. "Of course I did. He was very kind to me, and I cared for him, and—"
"Kind?" The way he drawled the word made her feel like he knew something she did not.
"Byrnes has no concept of charm, but he can be kind. I know you probably can't imagine it, but—"
"I thought there was something between the pair of you, but if there was, then you wouldn't be thinking of him as kind. That's the very last word anyone would ever use to describe that smug bastard."
"Whatever does that mean?" she asked suspiciously.
Kincaid rubbed his mouth. "Ava, do you have any idea what it is like to bed a man?"
"Of course I do. I've seen—"
"Outside of what you've seen in books."
They stared at each other, and she felt like they were having two different conversations. "No," she admitted. "Only what I've read, or what I've seen in diagrams."
"I see."
"I'm not completely sheltered. There were farm animals at my father's country manor. And I saw the shadow show at the Garden of Eden." He looked unconvinced. "I studied anatomy, for heaven's sake. I know how things fit."
Kincaid growled under his breath, scraping his hands over his face as he mutt
ered, "Why me?"
"I can hear you. Enhanced hearing, if you'll recall? And if you want an answer to that, then here it is. I don't love you. You don't love me. There's no risk here for me. But I like you—enough to trust you with my body—and I... I think you like me. Or you would, if I weren't a blue blood, but—"
"I do like you," he admitted gruffly. "Blue blood notwithstanding."
Something warmed with her. "And the truth is, I'm not certain I've been living my life. I needed time to put myself back together after what happened to me, and I think I'm nearly there. But the last few years have been... controlled. Full of routine, and me trying to pretend everything is fine, and dusk to dawn spent in a laboratory, or traipsing through crime scenes, and while that is all well and good and intellectually stimulating it has come to my attention it also makes me feel a little hollow. Or... lacking. Lacking something."
Those sleepy eyes turned dangerous. "You mentioned a taste of passion."
Passion. That was what had been missing. "Yes," she breathed. "I want to experience something that sweeps me out of this ordinary life. I want a taste of everything I'm not supposed to want, and everything I've been suppressing for the last few years. Perry suggested I take a lover, but I think it's more than that. And I don't know precisely what that something is, but there's a hollow inside me, a yearning for... something. And maybe if I start with a lover, then I'll work out what that something is."
"Malloryn wouldn't approve. After Byrnes and Ingrid, he specifically demanded no more fraternization occur."
"I thought thumbing your nose at the duke was the highlight of your day? And who are you to speak of rules? You, who clearly likes to break them?" She could see the furrow on his brow still, the disapproving way he held himself, as though she'd suggested he rub mud all over his skin. "And if you won't help me, then I shall find someone who will."
"Like hell you will," he growled. "Christ, woman. Think of the risk."
"That's why I'm asking you. I know you wouldn't hurt me. I... I trust you with my body." And wasn't that a thought, for someone who'd been another man's captive. True, Hague had had no interest in her body sexually, but he'd still controlled every aspect of her. She'd been helpless for a long time, and unable to control even the slightest physical interaction.
But when she thought of giving herself to Kincaid, there was no fear there. Only... interest. A delicious urge to spread her wings and take what she wanted, for once in her life.
Kincaid eyed her with an evil look. "What was that thought?"
"I trust you with my body," she said gently, half in wonder. "I didn't understand why it had to be you, but I think that is the answer. I am both attracted to you, and feel safe with you. You don't know how rare it is to find a man who makes me feel like that."
He looked uncomfortable again. "Has a man ever hurt you, Ava?"
"Not... in the way you mean." She hated talking about it. It seemed wrong, in a way. I survived, and the others didn't, and sometimes that woke her more often than any nightmare she might suffer. What did she have to complain about? A little hysteria every now and then? An inability to leave the house when she was suffering the worst phases of her trauma? It could be worse. She could be buried in St. James's cemetery, like Evangeline, or in Harknell like Suzette. Or she might even be one of the girls that had vanished completely. Only Hague knew where those bodies went, and he was dead and never telling.
But Kincaid needed to know.
Just in case she panicked if he made a sudden move.
"Four years ago," she said quietly, rubbing the sheet between thumb and forefinger to help ground herself, "I was captured by a madman. He was a scientist who created clockwork and mechanical organs, and he needed humans to test his operations on."
"The Steel-Jaw case?"
It had been all through the papers at the time. No wonder he knew it. "I was one of the girls he experimented upon. He wanted to create a clockwork heart that could sustain a patient dying of heart failure. But the problem was he couldn't keep the girls he experimented upon alive throughout the process of removing... removing...."
Removing their hearts.
"Dr. Hague infected me with the craving virus, so I might survive," Ava whispered, unbuttoning her nightgown a little so he could see the top of her scar, and trying to ignore his paling face. "I was his first successful heart transplant patient. But not by choice. Byrnes, Perry, and Garrett... They rescued me from that vile laboratory, and though I have managed to resurrect some semblance of a life, it haunts me every day." She glanced up from beneath her lashes. His eyes were wide with horror. "I was one of only two girls who survived. I saw them die, Kincaid. And... and there was no way to escape. I had no hope left. Nothing but pain, and...." She gasped, her fingers contracting into a fist.
"Hush, kitten. It's all right." Kincaid slid onto the bed, curling a hand around the back of her head as he dragged her against his chest.
Ava released a shuddering breath. She wasn't going to allow Hague to intrude upon this moment. "I know what it's like to be unable to make choices in regards to your own body," she said, absorbing the heat of his body, "but I want to learn what it's like to give myself to a man. I make this decision. It's my body to give to someone else, and I choose you."
There was a long moment while Kincaid thought about this. He kissed the top of her head. "Hell, Ava, I had no idea."
She pressed her finger to his lips. "I don't want to talk about it. I want to talk about the future. About us. About... your proposition."
"Very well. An affair." He kissed her finger. "But if we agree to do this, then we do it on my terms. I want you to be very certain about this, so I don't intend to rush you. We take this one step at a time, and I decide when you're ready for the next step, considering how eager you are, and how much you don't know."
"Agreed."
Kincaid's eyes darkened. "Agreed."
Silence fell in the room, a hush of sensual awareness. The lantern light flickered.
"Aren't you going to kiss me?" Ava breathed.
Kincaid became very still. "What?"
"Sealed with a kiss," Ava said, her heart ticking quietly in her chest as a thrill of nervousness lit through her. "Isn't that the way it's done?"
Ten
THIS WAS THE worst decision Kincaid had ever made—he couldn't help thinking trouble would come of this, no matter how much he wanted it.
But hell if he could deny her, as Ava stared up at him with those eager eyes of hers.
If she was any other woman, you wouldn't say no, said a little voice, deep in his heart.
If she was any other woman, he wouldn't care if he said yes. A quick tumble in the blankets and then he'd be on his merry way, without another thought in her direction.
But this was Ava.
There are rules, damn it. Both his own, and the unspoken one among the Company of Rogues that said Ava had to be protected at all cost. Not a single one of them hadn't had blood on their hands at some stage. All of them wanted to protect their country, no matter what that took. None of them were angels, particularly not him, but...
Ava was the odd one out.
You couldn't look at her and not know she was innocent through and through. Somehow, despite the past events she'd mentioned—and wasn't that a fucking horror story—she still looked at the world with bright-eyed optimism. Not naïve. Never naïve. But she was somehow untarnished, unlike the rest of them, which was both miraculous and a tribute to her courage. And then, of course, there was Byrnes's recent marriage. He wasn't stupid. Ava had to be smarting from the loss of... whatever hopes she'd held in that direction, regardless of what she'd said.
She was also sitting there in her thin lawn nightgown with expectant eyes, and that fleshy lower lip caught between her teeth as she waited for him to take the first step. The mere sight of her stirred him in a way he'd never felt before.
His cock roused, throbbing behind the buttons of his breeches. He'd never been a hero. He'd never played t
he gallant champion. He'd never wanted to. He'd taken what he wanted in fleshly sins, drowned himself in drink to hide his demons, and told himself if he was going to die young, then at least he'd know what pleasure felt like.
Ava should be just one more conquest. Another night of lust and stolen kisses, and considerably more. But for some damned reason, he couldn't stop himself from offering her this one last chance.
Kincaid cupped her face in both hands. "One kiss," he told Ava, his voice hoarse. What the hell did she do to him? "Tonight all we're going to do is kiss. You need time to process this decision, and I don't intend to rush you through it."
She unexpectedly rolled her eyes. "All I do is think, Kincaid. My mind keeps going day and night. You have no idea what it feels like to stare at the ceiling all afternoon, when you're supposed to be sleeping. I have thought about this decision."
That was interesting. "That's an awful lot of thinking in so few days."
Ava froze, and then swiftly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I—"
"You were thinking about this before I made the suggestion. Weren't you?"
"This is all your fault," she blurted. "I wasn't imagining anything of the like until the night we all went to the Garden of Eden, and I got lost in the garden, and you found me, and then unlaced my corset because I could barely breathe—"
"When you felt me up and stole my coat?" he asked, mildly amused.
"I didn't steal your coat!"
"You never gave it back," he pointed out. "I like how you're not denying you had your hands all over my chest."
"I had no choice. You were holding me there by the lapels of my coat—"
"My coat."
"Which I was wearing at the time," she said swiftly, her cheeks blazing with heat. Then— "You never asked for it back. And I forgot to return it."
"Then maybe I need time to think," he admitted. There was danger here. Not for her. She seemed remarkably clear-eyed about the entire process. But... though he'd said Ava was the weakest link on the team, he was also growing aware she was becoming the chink in his armor.