Kiss of Steel
Page 21

Don’t ever show them fear, her father had warned. It excites them.
“Blade,” she said, in a very quiet, firm voice. “We have to leave. There’s no time for this.”
Blade ignored her, his hand snaking into her hair and tilting her head back. Honoria gasped at his roughness, yet a part of her burned.
“Blade.”
His lips found her throat, and then his teeth grazed the tender skin there. It wasn’t a nibble. He opened his mouth and bit her gently just above the collarbone. Honoria gasped, her knees dissolving as a surge of liquid heat went straight through her. His firm, callused hands found her br**sts, cupping them through the scratchy wool. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head.
“Stop,” she whispered. But his hand was sliding down over the flat of her stomach, lower, bunching through the folds of material at her waist and lower…She caught it, her ni**les aching through the constricting wool. “We can’t do this. Please stop.”
“You want it. I want it—”
“I don’t want it,” she shot back, then gasped as his fingers brushed teasingly against the juncture of her thighs.
“Don’t you?” His other hand cupped the full weight of her breast. “There’s no one here to see,” he said in that dark, compelling voice. “I’d hear them coming.” His fingers bunched in the folds of her skirt. “Honor. My Honor.” It came out with his breath. “I want to taste you. I want to drink you all up.”
Honoria shot a helpless look toward the building. She had to find some way to placate the hunger ruling him. “Later. If Vickers returns—”
“I’ll kill him.”
Then he had his hands on her, thrusting her back against the crypt. Her back met the stone wall, and Blade dragged her arms up, pinning her wrists over her head. Her head swam. She’d hit it on the wall.
“You’re mine.” His hand caught her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “You belong to me. No one else.”
“Blade, please. Let me go.” Those black eyes were starting to scare her. As he looked at her, she saw no emotion in his face, besides hunger.
Cold fingers wrapped around her throat. Honoria’s heart pounded. He was in there somewhere. The man she knew—with his wicked smile and Cockney bluster—was still there. She just had to find him.
“Blade,” she whispered. “You promised to protect me. If Vickers comes back, he won’t be alone. They’ll capture me. Not even you can take on Vickers and a complement of guards armed with stunners. They know how to deal with blue bloods here. They’ll take you down and then they’ll lock me up. Then Vickers will do whatever he likes with me.”
Blade didn’t like that idea. His black glare flattened. “No.”
“You won’t be able to stop it.”
The hand on her throat eased.
“I want,” he said, his gaze sliding down to where his hand rested, as though distracted.
“I know. I want too. I want…I want to touch you. Let my wrists go.”
Blade thought about it for a long moment. Then released her.
Honoria moved slowly, sliding her hands down his arm to his shoulder. She slipped them beneath the roughened leather of his long coat. His shirt hung open, revealing a pale slice of chest. Knowing that he watched her, she pressed her palms against his chest, feeling the slow, steady thud of his heartbeat.
His skin was so cool. Honoria wanted to press her lips to it, to open her mouth and taste him with her tongue. A shocking thought, much like the ones that played in her mind at night.
Honoria looked up. His face was closer, his breath whispering over her forehead. The throb of his heartbeat started to increase in tempo beneath her hand. She licked her lips, and he watched the movement with an absorption that sent a thrill racing through her.
“Slowly,” she whispered.
His mouth drifted closer. Lips brushed against lips, and as she took a breath, she stole his.
Honoria’s heart was pounding in earnest now, almost sounding like a voice yelling trou-ble, trou-ble, trou-ble in her ears. Blade pressed closer, his mouth opening over hers, tasting her, a faint hint of his tongue flickering over her lips. Oh God. Her eyes shot open and she felt the press of his chest against her palms as she held him at bay. It was all an illusion, of course. If he wanted to take more, he could, and there was nothing she could do or say to stop him. If she even wanted to stop him.
Her body throbbed with need, an alien sensation that she couldn’t quite control. Her hands flexed against his chest, burrowing beneath his shirt, and an odd sound rose in her throat, almost a sigh. This was the enemy. And she was kissing him. But, oh, how good it felt…
It was almost as if he sensed the distance she held him at. Blade drew back, his dark gaze flickering to hers. Eyes narrowing, he caught her face in his hands, and then his mouth swooped across hers in a brutal claiming.
She couldn’t help herself. Her traitorous hands were sliding beneath his shirt, over the smooth skin of his shoulders. Tentatively, she opened her mouth for him. The first full sweep of his tongue was a shock. Sensing victory, he pressed his body against hers, his h*ps grinding against the delicate vee between her thighs.
Too much. Honoria broke the kiss and came up for air, heat burning through her cheeks and lower, in unfamiliar places. “We can’t do this.”
He turned her face back to his and stole another breathless kiss. Honoria grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his face back. She had to think. Think, dash it! But it was so hard with his mouth sliding down her throat, tongue licking the hollow in the middle. Her eyes rolled back and she shivered. “You promised. You promised to protect me.”
His mouth paused on her skin. Honoria almost sobbed with relief. She couldn’t fight this battle, not when her body wanted to lose so badly. The vulnerability scared her. Blade didn’t move an inch when she pushed at him. Arms like steel caged her, his palms pressed flat against the stone wall. His head was bowed and he simply inhaled the scent of her, his breath harsh and ragged.
“You promised,” she whispered.
His fist hit the wall. Despite herself, she jumped. Those eyes were as black as the devil’s.
“Blade. Please, come back. I want to talk to you.”
“You are.” That cold, perfectly clipped accent. How much she longed to hear the rough cockney jargon she’d grown so familiar with. Who knew she would ever miss that drawl?
“Come back,” she said, placing a trembling hand against his cheek. “Take me home.”
“And if I do?” He turned his face and kissed her fingers. The wetness of his mouth made her gaze drift again, the words dying in her throat.
“If you do?” she repeated distractedly.
“What will you give me?”
“I’ll…I’ll…” Honoria gave him a helpless look. “I’ll kiss you.”
“You just did.”
“No, I didn’t. I let you kiss me.”
His lips froze against her fingers. A rough purr rumbled through his throat. “Where?”
“Where?” The grounds were empty, but they wouldn’t stay that way for long. The guards would begin their rounds soon, and if they happened across her hunger-crazed blue blood, she would never ease the strain from her conscience. Then she realized what he’d asked. “What do you mean, where? No. Stop. I don’t want to know. I meant on the mouth.”
It was a long, dangerous moment. His hand clenched and unclenched in the bunched folds of her skirt. He took a deep breath, and then the next moment he had stepped away and she staggered, almost collapsing against the wall of the crypt.
Blade had his back to her.
“Blade?” she whispered.
He took a long time to answer. Then he turned, eyes still black as spades. “Aye. I’ll ’old you to it too, luv.”
She almost breathed a sigh of relief. The danger wasn’t over yet, but parts of his old self were starting to reappear. Pushing away from the wall, she said, “I think we’d best leave.”
“When we get ’ome,” he said suddenly, “you’re goin’ to owe me more than a kiss.”
Her eyes shot up.
“You’re goin’ to tell me what the bloody blazes you were doin’ ’ere.” He pointed a finger at her. “And no more lies, Honoria.” A growl sounded deep in his throat. “There ain’t nothin’ I ’ate more than bein’ lied to.”
Chapter 14
The carriage rattled along through the darkened tunnels, the steady hiss of the steam engines singing monotonously. The tunnels were lit sporadically by gaslights, and every so often they passed beneath one of the ventilation shafts that filtered the steam to the world above, where the faint slash of moonlight would flicker.
The carriages were nearly empty at this time of night. One by one the passengers got off, until it was just Honoria and Blade. Alone. Locked in silence. Neither of them willing to speak.
The harsh black had faded from his eyes at long last, but she wondered if the hot green flash that replaced it was any better. Occasionally he looked at her as though wondering what he was going to do to her, but she kept her gaze locked on the window, her fingers tight on the carriage strap.
You’re goin’ to tell me what the bloody blazes you were doin’ ’ere.
The diaries seemed to burn a hole in her pocket.
There ain’t nothin’ I ’ate more than bein’ lied to. What had he meant by that? A little knot of dread tightened in her intestines. She had not lied to him very often—only about her origins, about which she’d been deliberately vague. So what was he referring to?
The carriage screamed to a halt, the engine giving one last, loud belch of steam. Honoria stood. Blade leaned his hip against the door, waiting for the conductor to open it for them.
The underground platform was empty. Honoria’s dread intensified as she stepped onto it. Why wasn’t he speaking to her?
They bypassed the elevation chamber and took the stairs. All 107 of them. Honoria was glad. She didn’t think she could abide being trapped in the stuffy box with him while the cables hauled them to street level.
The last mile home was a miserable toil of silence, her mind going over every word she’d said, every action, trying to work out what she had done.
She was so distracted that she almost didn’t notice when they reached the warren. Blade put his hand in the small of her back, and she looked up to see him holding the door open for her.
“Thank you.”
His eyes narrowed and he stepped past, leading her into the dark hallway of the entrance.
They bypassed the parlor, which was her only point of reference. Honoria paused at the foot of the stairs as the darkness swallowed him up.
“Blade. Where are we going?”
His footsteps stopped on the stairs above her. “My chambers.”
It sent a spurt of fear through her. She forced her feet to start moving. Don’t think about it. Just don’t think about it.
But he wants an answer. And a kiss.
She didn’t know which one frightened her more. If she thought about it for too long, she could almost feel the ghostly impression of his mouth on hers from earlier. Honoria stumbled.
The second floor was full of light. She stepped into a hallway with polished beeswax floors and elegant gas lamps on the walls. A Turkish-red runner cushioned her footsteps. Blade waited for her, holding open the door.
“This is…it could be a home in Mayfair,” she said, looking around.
“I don’t live like a rat,” he replied. “But it ain’t clever to advertise it.”
Hands clenched in her skirts, she stepped through, into a lovely antechamber. Despite the elegant furnishings and curiosities, her gaze went straight to the opposite door, which was open. His bedchambers.
Oh my.
A woman swept through the door with a smile on her face, then stopped dead and blinked in surprise. “You’re late. Nothing happened?” Her question was directed to Blade, but her gaze remained on Honoria. Though dressed in a work-a-day dress, her upswept chignon was thick with black hair, and the fine bones of her face spoke of a genteel upbringing.
“Esme. Weren’t nothin’ but a spot o’ trouble.” Where his voice and manner had been strained with Honoria, he crossed to the woman and gave her a relaxed kiss on the cheek.
“Perhaps…perhaps I should go,” Honoria stammered.
Blade looked at her smokily. “Not until you’ve paid your debts.”
The woman—Esme—shot him an exasperated look. Clucking under her tongue, she crossed the rich carpets and took Honoria by the hand. “Don’t be a rotten beast, Blade. Look at her. What have you been doing to her? Rolling around in a coal bin? You ought to be ashamed.” Turning toward Honoria, she gave a hesitant smile. “Come. I’ll draw a bath, and I’m certain we can find you something clean to wear. You must be hungry. Blade, would you send for a tray from the kitchens?”
One of his eyebrows arched, but he nodded. “’Ow long?”
“Give me an hour with her,” Esme replied. “I believe John made mutton stew. And there’s bread in the larder.”
The dismissal was clear. Despite a sardonic smile at Esme’s back, Blade nodded and crossed to the door.
As soon as it was shut, Esme gave her a sharp look. “There. Now, let’s get you tidied up before his lordship returns. You must be Honoria.”
“Please, this is no bother. I should be getting back to my brother and sister. There’s no need for…” They stepped into the bedchamber and she saw a hint of the enormous copper bath in the next room. “Oh.”