The Mech Who Loved Me(40)

       
         
       
        

Or else her experience with sex would be a very short, brief affair. The ache in his cock was almost excruciating.

Those glorious eyes shuttered. "But...?"

"Not tonight," he replied firmly. "Sleep on it. Be certain this is what you want. Because the next time we do this, I'm not going to stop."

"Oh." A soft, reverent sound. She was thinking again.

He had to get out of here. "Good night, Ava." Leaning forward, he kissed her again. Her mouth and thighs both parted with ease, and then he was groaning and trying to push away from her. Or at least, he intended to push away from her. His cock had other ideas. Kincaid's hips flexed, his erection pushing into her belly, and Ava gasped as she arched beneath him.

Jaysus.

He shoved to his feet abruptly, rearranging himself in his pants. Ava lay sprawled on the bed, looking utterly ravished. All those blonde curls splayed across her pillow. Why was he saying no again?

Right. He needed to find some control, and she needed to be certain this was what she wanted.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured as he turned around and strode toward the door.

Before he could change his mind and scrap all sense of honorable intentions.



* * *

Sweet dreams? Ava paced the bomb site at the clinic the following afternoon, her skirts seeming to irritate her sensitive legs. Ever since Kincaid left her in a heated mess on the middle of her bed last night, she'd been unable to concentrate. She'd never felt this way before.

Of course, she'd never had a man press his body so intimately against hers, especially in places that had never felt a man's touch before....

Ava groaned, trying to clear her mind. The Duke of Malloryn was due at any moment for a briefing. And Malloryn was the most perceptive man she'd ever met. If she even thought about carnal relations with Kincaid while Malloryn was in the building, she was certain the duke would notice.

Right on cue, a carriage rounded the corner, a team of matched blacks trotting along in front of it. Horses seemed an old-fashioned concept these days-an extravagance the Echelon still liked to display-what with steam power ruling the city. Most regular people were forced to make do with coal and steam power, which left a dirty pall hanging over London.

Not the Duke of Malloryn.

Malloryn's crest gleamed on the door of the carriage, and the footmen wore his livery. The silver griffins of the House of Malloryn leered at her.

"He's certainly not hiding who he is today," Kincaid muttered, appearing at her shoulder.

"Perhaps he's here on official business?" Malloryn liked cloaks, and shadows, and disguises. Sometimes he'd appear inside the safe house and she'd not have even noticed a door opening. It was like he sprang from nowhere. 

Malloryn alighted from the carriage, wearing a black velvet coat with puffed shoulders, a loose white shirt, and leather trousers. He looked particularly dangerous today, and there was a rapier sheathed at the belt around his hips.

"Didn't know you'd turned pirate," Kincaid said, his eyes twinkling as he looked the duke up and down.

"Ha," Malloryn replied, without a trace of humor. "How droll you are this afternoon, Kincaid. Especially considering the city is under threat by unknown agents who have an enthusiasm for bombs. This is my court dress. I've been in meetings all morning."

"How civic-minded of you," Kincaid countered, and the duke shot him a withering glance.

"Ava." Malloryn tipped his head to her, dusting off his gloves as he looked around. "Perhaps you would care to show me around? I received the baroness's missive, but I'd like to hear it from both of you, if you would?"

"This way," Ava instructed, grabbing a handful of her skirts and pushing open the charred door to the front of the clinic. She wore dark blue today, a color that normally washed her out, but one which would survive better than yesterday's concoction of lace.

She led the duke through the building, staring at the wind-chilled sky that appeared overhead in the actual clinic as she ran through what happened. Malloryn picked his way through the rubble, leaning on an ebony-handled cane that bore his signet.

"What made you look inside the servant drone?" Malloryn finally asked, turning to Kincaid.

Kincaid knelt in the ruptured remains of the room, nudging a scrap of blistered metal. The paint had bubbled off it. "It wasn't working properly. Ava was busy talking incomprehensible scientific theories with Dr. Harricks, and I have experience with such units. I offered to fix it."

"So pure chance?" Malloryn seemed surprised. "And you set the bomb off?"