Steel Dominance (25 page)

His hands curled over the edge of the stone, and every few moments he flexed his fingers. Such a large man and so used to taking charge, yet he seemed off-balance. Well, she wasn’t giving up, even if he’d turned to damn concrete, again. She put her hand over his. “What is it?”

He shook his head so slightly she might have missed it.

“What?”
Now he stops talking again?
This was so frustrating. Here, when finally she could be herself, and finally she felt safe, he withdrew into his shell? He could give a tortoise lessons in hiding.

Maybe it was time to poke. Pretending to be a slave all that time had stopped her being
her
. “Cat got your tongue? There are a lot of words in the English language. We can’t talk if you don’t use any. Pick some, and I’ll tell you if they’re any good.” Nothing moved apart from a line shifting beside his mouth. “Bunny? No? Fluffy slippers? Cabbages? Damn it all, please, say
something
.”

“Okay.” The deep growl of his voice surprised her. He glanced at her. “Dead. Is that a good word for you, Sofia? A lot of men died.”

“Oh.” So that was it. Her stomach sank.

“But, I can survive that. My job has involved seeing men die for many years.” He grasped her hand, took it to his mouth, and kissed it. “What I can’t handle is the possibility of seeing you die.”

Where was this going? “I don’t plan on dying any time soon, Sir.” She didn’t exactly want to hear what he might say next, because it seemed likely to be an excruciating answer. His grip on her hand tightened. “Is this…is this going to be logical? I mean, you said you couldn’t bear to ever let me go. Which, I really liked the sound of. But now, I get the impression that if someone offered to take me far, far away, you’d jump up and down waving and cheering.”

The smile he turned on her lifted her heart enough that she smiled back.

“No. It’s not that bad, not yet. I’m fighting myself here, woman. I want you with me, and yet…do you want the truth?”

Those eyes. Daring her, questioning—she could see him trying to read her.

“Um. No, and yes. Now I’ve got your disease. But, yes. Tell me. I always need the truth. I’ve had enough lies from people to put me off falsehood.”
Except truth can hurt a lot
. She’d have bitten her nails if he wasn’t watching.

“Very well. When I think of having you live with me, I feel wrong.” One corner of his mouth quirked, and he shrugged. “That is it. It’s just a feeling.”

Wrong? I make him feel wrong?
The knowledge twisted up inside her. Tears threatened to arrive. She hung her head. “How romantic.” Bitterness crept in. Well, that was the truth, and now she felt ill. “I think, until you figure that out, we should stay just friends.”

Impulsively she stood and announced, “I’m going for a swim.”

The clockwork things here wouldn’t bite. The water was shallow and warm, and Dankyo was in a suit. The stupid clothes she wore would dry in an instant. He was not going to see her cry.

“Sofia. Stop!”

She heard annoyance in that tone. Well, it served him right, he could go…go be all sad and disgusting by himself. Anger gave her courage. The stupid crocodile thing was harmless, right?

She launched herself into the water and struck out for the island. She gasped. The deeper water was frigid. The liquid sliding over her skin shocked her into a higher level of alertness. She did breaststroke, feeling like she’d changed from a woman into a frog. The fine material of her tunic and pants barely dragged at all.

Then slowly, as her fury faded, awareness of her vulnerability crept in. What if he was wrong? What if the thing bit? You never knew what was under the water. Even clear water went all fuzzy when it was disturbed.
Look! I have to look.

It was there still, flaked out on the beach. Probably purring, or whatever crocodiles did, happily warming its springs and cogwheels.

There might be two
. She swam faster.

After the initial shouted words, Dankyo had said nothing.

When she reached the island, she went to her knees where the lake lapped on the sand, and planted her palms. Nothing had eaten her. A few inches from her nose, three orange clockwork fish rocked in the waves, sloshing back and forth. She’d stay here until all the anger had gone away and she could forgive him. And until she grew some courage.

Sofia twisted her lip and sucked on it.
So maybe a few centuries here, then?

After crawling onto the sweet-smelling lawn, she turned over and leaned on her elbows. Water pooled on her belly button and stuck the tunic to her skin. She shivered despite the sun’s rays warming her, then looked back.

As if he was doing something he did every day, Dankyo was undressing, folding his clothes, then placing them in a pile to one side.

Oh lord.

HELL AND TARNATION
. When Sofia stood up, ignored his words, and dived into the lake, it had been as if somebody had poured a beaker of icy water into his head. All the complicated sad and ugly thoughts swishing around in there had been washed away, instantly.

His vision crystal clear, and his cock hardening by the second, he’d watched her swim off. She’d even flipped once and dived beneath the surface. Her bottom, glimpsed for a moment, had been perfectly outlined by the cloth. Totally see-through. The globes of her ass looked so biteable, and the crevice between made him imagine shoving his hand there.

Strange how this had just put the final seal on his feelings.

Any woman who reveled in swimming enough to get her hair wet, and who was impulsive enough to dive into a lake with a clockwork crocodile, was the woman for him. Sure, he’d told her the creature was safe, but this was a whole other level of feistiness. Sofia was crazy, but the right sort of crazy for him.

He slipped off his shoes, then the rest of his attire, and put everything aside. Standing there, naked beneath the sun, made him feel like roaring and being all male. He put his hand on his erection. It had ideas already.

And she’d taunted him. He smiled. Time to finish off this talk. If anything, he knew her too well. Sofia had buttons he could press. She’d gone off without thinking. He’d explain where she’d gone wrong, and then he’d figure out what to do with her. Perhaps Henry’s new toys would be appropriate?

He squatted, rummaged in his coat pockets, and found them. Then he wrapped them round his biceps.

He did a shallow dive, and cruised underwater for a while, delighting in the way the coolness caressed his muscles, and then he set off for the island. Each precise stroke pulled him closer to her and gave him time for more ideas. But first, he had to explain, had to sort things out.

Sand squished between his toes when he walked from the water. Sofia said nothing while he loomed over her, dripping. She was sitting in the wet sand, her legs out to the side, head bowed while she played with some clockwork goldfish. He went closer, until the front of his ankles touched her thigh and his feet were under her. He dripped on her and waited.

The little mechanical
chrr chrr chrr
sounds made him wonder what she was up to.

“Sofia?”

Her shoulders slumped, and she stopped whatever she was doing with the fish. “Do you
have
to drip on me? You know, I was hoping to get some alone time out here.”

He grimaced. She was indeed annoyed. All the better to prod her even more. Some fire had been lit inside him. Certainty guided him. She’d not get away from him this time. Time to knock his woman off her pedestal again.

“What are you doing?”

After a moment, she explained, “Winding up the goldfish. See.” She let go of the one she held. The tail wriggled, and the fish shot off into deeper water. “You just turn the body round and round. Clever. No key needed. Now will you go?” She waited, head down, not looking at him.

He nudged her with his foot. “We haven’t finished our talk.”

“Sure we have. You told me I made you feel
wrong
. I get the message. Now go. Get your sandy foot off me.”

The itch to grab her was strong. He resisted. “You asked me for the truth. I gave it to you. Then you swam off without letting me explain.”

“You were being a grumpy bastard.”

Hell
. He held in the laughter. “I agree. I was. I had my reasons. Good ones. And you still should have let me explain. You can’t ask for the truth and then run away.”

“It hurt.” Now she glanced up, and he saw the moisture running along her eyelids.

He squatted. “I know. But, you need to understand I’m fighting it, and I won’t be leaving you.”

Sofia picked up another fish, sniffed, then rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “When I make someone feel bad, it makes me think we don’t fit together.”

“I understand. I do. But I’ve figured out why I feel this way, and I’m not letting you go. Do
you
understand that?”

She just shook her head.

This was like navigating an airship through thick fog. How did he get her to understand? Having her leave him, having her walled off when he needed her in his life so much…not happening.

“Remember our agreement while we’re here in Byzantium? That has not been rescinded.” She stiffened. She remembered, then. And said nothing. Maybe he needed to push? “Remember?”

Slow yet sure, he put his hand to the back of her head and collected her hair as if he were about to start a ponytail. He kept talking as he wound it round and round. “Answer me, Sofia, because if you don’t, I’m going to turn your wet little ass red.”

Was this the right way? If she denied him, and there was that chance, something inside him would break.

With her hair tight in his fist, he bent her neck back until she had to meet his eyes. She’d quickly pushed off the sand with one hand and shifted her legs so she was kneeling. The position made her breasts push out, and the moist cloth clung to her like tissue paper. Her areolae bunched until her nipples stuck out like inviting buttons.

Her lips parted. “I remember.” She breathed fast yet deep, gentle in his grasp, accepting his control.

“You like this. Good.” Then he added again, softly. “Answer the other question. Do you understand?”

Her hands were relaxed and palm up on her thighs. Sofia swallowed. “I…I understand. But”—she blinked, then frowned—“How can you be both?”

Thank God, she was talking and listening. He savored the moment, and let the relief wash into him, and away.

“Both to not want to leave you, and to also feel as if you’re wrong to keep with me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well…” He clucked his tongue, thinking.

And he studied how he held her.

With her pinned in place, why not take advantage? He put his finger on the center of her forehead and began to draw a line down her nose to her mouth,
bump bump
over each lip, feeling them quiver, then to her chin and down her neck. The cloth of her top clung to every curve. In a shrinking spiral, he circled one breast, going slowly inward and ending on the edge of her areola.

She quivered and moaned, thrust out her chest some more. So he did the same to the other breast, then teased each nipple, rubbing the fine netting of the cloth across her skin.

“For me to think
both
is contrary, perhaps, but no more so than you wanting to be with me only five minutes ago, and to then be telling me”—he jerked a little on her hair—“to go away. Which I’ve decided is worth punishment.” He smiled mean, then reached to pinch one nipple, flattening it until she plucked at his hand. So he lifted away and squashed the other one.

With a squeal, she arched and used both hands on his, wrenching, trying to pull him off. After a second, she stilled, and though her hands stayed wrapped about his wrist, her eyes were shut, and her mouth was open and panting.

The wriggle of her ass, and her soft moans said even more. This aroused her. He’d thought it might. He leaned down and kissed her, sealing his lips over hers and making this a long and powerful kiss. He moved her head just the way he wanted, nipped a path down to her breast, reached her nipple, and bit. Another squeak made him grin.

At her ear, he whispered, “I want to bruise you.”

He went light and nibbled her lips until she sighed. Then he covered her mouth and kissed hard, ravaging her, like he never meant to let her breathe again, like he wanted to stamp her as his possession for eternity. Every moan of hers entered his mouth. Like an incubus, he took those gasps and sighs and delicious noises into his body and felt her arousal pump straight to his cock.

Then he drew away and watched her recover. Her eyelids quivered open, and awareness returned.

He rubbed his nose on hers and smiled. “Now, do you understand what I said, Sofia? I spoke the truth. I don’t intend leaving you, ever. I will sort out my own head. Okay?”

She inhaled, exhaled. “Okay.”

“Good.” His mouth to her ear, he added softly, “I’m going to take you hard. But first, I’m going to wash the sand from your body.” He flicked her earlobe with his tongue. “I want you naked. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Her green eyes were big and glistening. “I do.”

“Stand up and hold your arms out from your sides.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to tear off your clothes.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

His words made her shudder. After a second, Sofia rose and lifted her arms out a little.

“Face outward.” He pushed, and she turned, his little pliant doll, feeling the breeze on her wet clothes and the grass squish underfoot. Anticipation hypnotized her.

A craving arrived—how thrilling it would be to protest, to struggle, to scream. But she wouldn’t, afraid he might stop, because she was a woman who said yes or no when she meant it, wasn’t she? So she only sneaked out a small complaint. “What if someone watches?”

“Be still.” His hands gripped the neckline at her nape.

She closed her eyes, needing to soak up every shred of the violence.

The first rip tore the back all the way to the bottom. The simple force jarred her body and loosened the strings tying her mind to the world about her. He slipped the tunic down her arms. The second tear only opened the back seam of the pants, but she shuddered again even so. The ferocity sent her spinning, made her mind sink, left her hot. Moisture leaked from between her thighs.