Steel Dominance (13 page)

“Cryptography.” She looked to see if he understood. This wasn’t exactly a secret.

“Military codes.” He frowned. “Really?”

“Yes. They promised me. It pays a good respectable wage.”
And my father will probably faint when he hears of it.

“I see. You are quite amazing, if crazy, little Sofia. Very well. I can’t command you in this, though I would like to.” His smile, this time, was grim. “Perhaps they will continue to only fire warning shots across our bows.”

“Perhaps. Besides, couldn’t this all be because of the weapons being sold to the emperor-bey? Some enemy of his may wish to stop that from happening? It may not be aimed at me at all.”

“Yes. I have already warned Henry. There are other possibilities.”

“Yet, you’d send me away?” Her heart seemed to squeeze in on her. She added in a small voice, “I thought you wanted me here?”

“I do, sweet Sofia.” He raised his hand and stroked her cheek. “But I don’t want you hurt.”

Oh my goodness
. She searched his eyes, wondering where the grim and precise security professional had gone to. “I won’t be. Not with you around. You’re the most bulletproof man I’ve ever met.”

“I try. But, my lady, even I have scars.”

* * * *

The limousine ride to the palace grounds was already becoming familiar, though this time it was more of a procession due to Henry following their vehicle in a steam lorry. Her clothes however were not familiar. Sofia plucked the train of the ivory ensemble from beneath her derriere. Little emeralds dotted the see-through fabric, swirling out like a whirlpool of gems from the nipple area, then congregating again over her loins. And all this, she was certain, without concealing enough of her. From the back it would be almost decent, if only the train hadn’t been split down the middle so her ass played peekaboo.

She sighed. Well, she’d just keep her legs together, a lot. Nipples…seeing nipples wasn’t that bad, was it? She’d displayed
them
already.

“What is it?” Dankyo, of course, was in a somber dark gray suit with a frock coat.

“You,” she muttered disgustedly, “probably have enough layers of clothes to bounce a bullet off, while I am practically naked. It has never been my ambition to show the world my pubic hairs.”

“I chose well, did I not?”

She glared. He wasn’t quite laughing, but… “Damn you, stop being
amused
at me.”

And that did make him guffaw. “Look here.” He unfolded a small writing desk from the back of the driver’s seat. “Help me with my haiku instead of complaining, Sofia.” With that he reached, put an arm about her waist, and pulled her in to tuck against his side. “Mmm. You smell good. What a pity I can’t mess up that outfit.”

The dark rumble of his voice, the scent of his cologne, and the easy force he’d used to drag her to him made her just plain
quiver.

She ran her tongue across her lip. “A high what?”

“A haiku. It’s a type of poetry.” His gaze met hers, then drifted lower to her mouth and breasts. Her nipples tightened. “You are too tempting.”

He dipped his head and kissed her gently, their lips touching like two butterflies alighting on a flower. When he drew away an inch, she couldn’t help her forehead creasing.
That’s all?

He rubbed his nose on hers. “I see a frown. It is not good to frown at your Master.” Then he added,

 “The sparrow alights:

On reflected winter sky

Where dark wolves bestir.”

As the poem ended, he raked his fingers into her hair and rose above her.

“That is a haiku.”

Then he descended on her lips and kissed her like a monster from the underworld—a glorious deadly-but-sexy monster. Kissed her hard so he bruised her lips, and deep, for his tongue forced into her mouth and made her gasp. His fingers found their way past the flimsy panties made of gemstones and silk and whimsy and slid inside her. Then he fucked her slowly with his fingers while he pinned her to the seat with his body, with his hand in her hair, and with his mouth. She moaned and writhed, then moaned some more.

When he stopped, she kept her eyes closed for a while. Her mouth ached, and lord, she knew she’d been kissed.

“That should keep me in your thoughts until tonight, my lady.” He readjusted the cloth between her legs. “We have arrived at the palace. Would you like to disembark?”

His casual possession of her body shook her. She was giving in to Dankyo so easily, as if this was what she was born to do. All those weird dreams—was this what she wanted after all?

His fingers still rested on her upper thigh, wet and cool on her skin for they’d been inside her only moments ago.

She sucked in a lungful of air, swallowed, then murmured, “I thought you weren’t going to do any of that…messing up of clothing.”

He canted his head. “I changed my mind. It is my garment. Just as you are mine.”

Defiance flared.
His?
That was going a little far.

“I’m not y—”

“Oh? I think you are. Time will tell which of us is right.”

At the piercing amusement in his eyes, she made herself hold her ground and stared back. But compulsion found her. She looked away and lowered her gaze to her lap.

For a few seconds, he gripped her leg tightly, with his whole hand spanning her thigh. At his gentle kiss on her hair and whispered, “You’re beautiful,” she wanted to snuggle into his body and stay there with him, forever.

“Sofia, listen well. I want you to keep your wits about you today. The incident with the janissary at the party we attended—I think that may have been arranged to test us in some way. I’ve no proof, just suspicions. But politics and intrigue are second nature here. Take care, please.”

She nodded. Strange. If arranged, then she’d been put on display deliberately. Was it a test to see if she could act out being a good slave? She should be horrified. A week ago she would have been, yet without that nudge, perhaps she’d have missed finding out how much she yearned for what Dankyo could give to her?

Armor clinking, a guard stepped up and opened the door on Dankyo’s side.

The shock of recognition jarred her from all other thoughts. This was it. The path was out there that would lead her to the tomb.

And I’m scared
. Elation and fear warred inside her.

Get moving. Be scared later, when it’s too late to worry about. Doing is better than quaking in my boots
. She glanced down, wiggled her toes.
Or my eensy weensy sandals.

“Sofia? Are you ready?” Dankyo slid across the seat and dragged the door in halfway, despite the guard’s hold on the handle, then waited.

“Yes. I’m coming,” she whispered.

* * * *

The memory of seeing Sofia walking away haunted him. Remembering her being led to the tomb, with her cute round ass swaying beneath the see-through material—torture. Pure torture. If he’d known the woman he was buying all those clothes for might actually enjoy his attentions, he’d have…
Damn
. Dankyo shook his head.

He’d have bought more of them.

But the agony of not knowing the situation here was equal torture.

The emperor-bey had chosen to be presented with the weapons in his Garden of Audiences. If it weren’t for the erected awnings above, the heat from the sun would soon be wilting the waiting petitioners. Despite having been requested to attend, and despite the emperor-bey having asked the Hellene government to sell arms to his country, he and Henry were having to wait in line.

Henry didn’t seem to mind and was busy rescrewing something to the new model gauss gun he’d brought to demonstrate.

With a dubious eye, Dankyo checked out the stubby rifle that had been specially decorated for the emperor-bey. The under and overbarrels had engraving and enameling—tiny blue flower buds entwined about them on a vine. The lenses on the flip-up sights were circled with gold, and pinpoint diamonds. Ridiculous.

The pistol in his shoulder holster had been confiscated by the palace guards, but Henry could bring in weapons. The charge and ammo packs were retained by the guards, but still, a weak point surely.

“So, Henry. Any idea why we are here, outdoors, instead of in the shaded audience chamber?”

Henry shrugged and kept unscrewing something or other. “Every so often, maybe it’s Wednesdays, he does his audience thing here. It’s the way of it. Don’t ask me why.”

“Right.” Useless, the man was useless if it didn’t involve metal and screws and engines. Every Wednesday perhaps? If they’d let him keep the security job, he’d have told the emperor-bey that being predictable was bad.

Only a few delegations were ahead of them. Then Henry could try to sell this blasted gun. He’d never thought of himself as an arms dealer. With Sofia on the palace grounds, this was the only excuse he had for being present, though. He and Henry would get a commission, but the money meant nothing to him. Not that Henry was an arms dealer either—he was just the best man for the job. Theo would be missing him. The two enormous landships on the estate were probably pining too. Henry treated the mobile weapon carriers like his babies.

Henry still leaned over the gauss gun, murmuring soft words. In a second he’d be burping the thing. Dankyo let his eyebrow creep up a fraction. Genius came with weirdness.

At least the fountain to the left, with all the tinkling and splashing water, made him feel cooler. At the top of a spray of water, a metal bird danced, as if flapping its wings and bathing. To the right, he could see past another little conglomeration of sweating petitioners to a bridge. Past that was the path that led up to the audience area where a grand white dome was held up by columns. On a projecting cliff, an artificial waterfall spouted skyward a few yards, then roared down into the ravine crossed by the bridge.

Dankyo glanced at Henry’s secondary present—a two-foot-high clockwork dancer, seven veils and all.

So, the emperor-bey loved playful clockwork. He mused for a moment, forgetting the slant of the sun heating his suit, and the sweat on his back. Caught by the wind, cool droplets from the fountains sprayed across his face.

With the offered task of adjusting security for the emperor-bey gone, he had no position here, no power. It bothered him. The palace was a vast unknown, and each day Sofia came here, he had to leave her alone and unguarded.

When she’d let go of his hand to follow the servant, he’d held her fingers a moment longer. The half-hidden fear on her face had prompted him to add a few words of encouragement, “I will be here to escort you back. No matter what happens. Remember, I will never abandon you. Take care.”

For some ungodly reason that escaped him, his chest pained him as if a shard had pierced it.

She’d smiled, whispered, “Thank you,” and then she’d gone.

He’d fulfill that promise. They’d have to shoot him to get him to go without her.

Before, he’d assumed he’d have influence here as an advisor on security. Now he was nothing, or almost nothing. Being unarmed each day, with no backup, was not his idea of best practice. He needed escape routes. It never hurt to be prepared. But how could he protect Sofia when he had no weapons or even a jot of power? Intolerable.

Captain Riccardo had not been helpful, but there would be others he could contact.

Maps, data, escape routes, schedules: he needed all those and more.

The palace crier called their names.

“Come, Henry. Our turn.” He strode forward, ready to swat the next servant who came to check the suitability of their clothes, the height of the grass, or whatever the hell else servants fixed in a palace where every last damn nit had to be counted and weighed and probably disarmed.

There would be a solution or two. The escape routes would be here. A way to be armed too, perhaps. He just had to find out how to do it.

Chapter Twelve

Every step she took brought her nearer to the tomb. Excitement swirled inside her until she thought it would burst out her ears and explode her heart. Her hands were cold, her pulse fast, and she couldn’t stop wondering if anyone was looking at her rear end. For a scientist about to examine the subject of her thesis, she’d sure picked a novel way to go about it.

And I’m not scared, I’m just nervous.

Except the never-ending maze of corridors, the emotionless faces of the guards and servants escorting her, and the knowledge that she was in the middle of a place that functioned solely to please the emperor-bey: all that left her wondering how she was going to get out again.

Okay, I’m scared.

Dankyo’s last words became a lifeline.
I will be here to escort you back. No matter what happens. Remember, I will never abandon you. Take care.

The last two sentences made her eyes all watery.

Darn
. She sniffed and wiped away the tears. “I am such an idiot,” she muttered. “I can’t be falling for the stupid man, can I?”

The guard to her right turned her half-helmeted face toward Sofia.

The little scar on the lip. She nearly tripped as the toe of her sandals caught the edge of a rug.
It’s that woman again. The one who watched us at the party. The emperor-bey’s personal guard.

“Do not be afraid,” the guard whispered from the corner of her mouth. “You are safe.”

Sofia blinked. Her heartbeat slowed. Not a friend, but at least someone who’d bothered to try to make her feel better. Had her nerves been that obvious?

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” A little half smile crept onto the woman’s face, twisting the scar.

Her escorts halted with a swish of cloth and a jingle of scabbards and armor. The woman servant at the front of the little procession swirled ahead, magenta dress curling about her legs. She unlocked and then opened one side of a double set of gold-embossed doors. The hinges were silent.

“Come.” She gestured urgently and nodded, setting her bun of black hair bobbing like a circus toy. “In.”

Sofia frowned.

“Yes. Come.” The female guard took her elbow. “I will be with you. This is the harem. I will make sure you come to no harm. In two hours we return to this door together. Okay?”