Iron Dominance (23 page)

“Pour us both a glass of wine, love, before you start,” he said, tucking a loop of her hair behind her ear and kissing her there. “For once, I get to relax. You’re a godsend.”

Theo sat with Claire in the fork of his legs and contemplated how she’d come to him. A sip of the red wine went down sultry and sweet. Pages turned slowly with a faint rustle and with the occasional scratch of pen on paper. He grinned. What a delightful warm, rounded bundle. Secretary, lover, and strangely talented bodyguard all rolled into one and smelling of his lavender soap.

A pink love bite at the nape of her neck reminded him of their lovemaking. Extraordinary how she’d taken to this. There was nothing about her that disappointed him. Nothing. For a barest flicker of time, unease stirred, as if they tempted fate. He gulped another swallow of wine. Foolish thought.

Chapter Eighteen

The days before Theo had to leave for parliament passed quickly. There seemed to be an endless number of variations of lovemaking that he wished to try out on her, though never rope, because she still refused to allow it. That he respected this boundary meant so much to her. Though otherwise, she trusted him absolutely and bowed to his will.

Two days before Theo was to leave, Dankyo found her at the garden nursery helping George prune the orange trees. She was at the top of a small ladder. As he crunched across the leaf-strewn root bed, she ignored him, hoping he wasn’t aiming for her. He peered up. From above, his flat-shorn head of hair looked like it’d make a glorious broom.

“Might I have a word with you”—he studied her—“Miss Claire?”

She climbed down, put down the shears, then slowly wiped her hands on her apron. “Sure.”

“Please.” He indicated the path out down the aisle of trees.

This was the first he’d spoken to her since the day Theo had let him spank her. She eyed him warily. No hint of superiority or arrogance on his face. Well…no more than usual. Of course, the spanking had been Theo’s doing—meant to impress on her the pecking order. Dankyo had participated reluctantly. It had worked. She couldn’t imagine saying no to this straitlaced man anymore—though partly because, if Theo found out, the consequences might be painful.

After she took off her apron, he led her toward the vehicle depot. She thought of breaching the silence, asking him what was on his mind, but decided not to. She’d let him make the first move. Theo liked control, but Dankyo embodied it,
lived it
. A week ago she would have itched for a weapon in her hand when around Dankyo, but she’d learned. Not everything was solved by violence.

A muted roar came from within the depot. A shadow passed over. She looked up. The clouds had moved fast, and rain spattered cool dots on her bare arms.

Inside Henry was at work, lurking underneath the chugging steam limousine. Though Theo had called them both steam buggies, this was a sleek mean machine with an articulated chassis like a gold-adorned centipede given wheels instead of legs.

“Henry!” Dankyo shouted to be heard over the engine.

Henry slid out from under the steam limo, his mouse gray hair sticking up in disarray. “Yes?”

“I want to take out the buggy.”

“Hex? Sure.” He sat up and rubbed at his head, smearing a splotch of oil up into his hair.

He levered himself off the floor and stood, adjusted the crotch of his khaki overalls. “I’ll have to fire Hex up with the voltaic generator an’ keep the engine running, or she’ll be impossible to restart. Needs a bit o’ work.”

Dankyo nodded. “I’ll take care of it. I want something with speed.”

Strange
. He’d never struck her as the sort who liked adrenaline rushes.

Claire turned to the other vehicle Dankyo’d termed a buggy. It was plain ugly, with a myriad of spindly pipes cradling the engine and cabin. If the limo was a centipede, then the buggy was a spider with a huge ass on wheels.

“Get in.” Dankyo pointed at the passenger side, then went to help Henry click some thick cables to points beneath Hex. She shrugged and climbed in, taking care to tuck the skirt under her and clip on the safety harness. Whatever Dankyo planned, he wasn’t going to murder her or anything. The man unsettled her, but unease wasn’t a death sentence.

The wide back doors were pushed back by Dankyo and Henry. Rain advanced across the expanse of grass, reaching the gravel road just outside, turning the stone dark in seconds.

Once started, Hex chuffed as fast as the gyrocopter, with an alarming tendency to lift up on the front wheels—and that was while stationary. Dankyo sat in the driver’s seat and went through a fast but thorough checklist. He glanced at her, locked a sway bar into place between them and the dashboard, then accelerated away. She sank her fingernails into the bar. The seat shook with the vibrations of the engine as they drove into the gray drizzle.

The windscreen kinked back like an arrowhead to each side. She peered through the rain-spotted glass.

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular. Sometimes I just like to drive. It helps keep me sane.”

She peered cautiously at him. “Sane?”

“Yes. I am human. I’ll take the sealed road to start with, but this vehicle loves the dirt. She can take everything—shrubs, rocks…” The buggy took a tight curve in the road with a calculated slide and crunch of flying gravel. “I asked you to come because…I need to know what exactly your intentions are. Number one…” He wrenched the wheel and planted his foot. The road ahead ran straight for at least a mile.

He braked. Hex slid to a halt.

The patter of rain mixed with the throb and hiss of the motor.

“Are you loyal?” With a hand still on the wheel, he turned to face her.

“I am. Of course I am. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Theo or the others here…even you.”

He smiled, his lips thin and even on that smooth face. He studied her. She knew he looked for the slightest clue that she lied.

“Would you lay down your life for him?”

“Would you?”

“Yes.” His fingers went white on the wheel. “He saved my life, more than once, in the war. We had a traitor, and our fleet was betrayed. Lost a lot of ships and men, got badly damaged—only made it out because of the colonel. If there’s one thing I hate—he hates—it is traitors.”

Oh. Dear.

She summoned up courage, told the truth that rested in her bones. “I too would lay down my life for Theo.”
Not for you, but yes, for Theo. He hates traitors
. She twisted her thoughts away from there.
No. I’m loyal.

She must have passed inspection. He grunted. “Good. I believe you.” He held out his hand, and she clasped it, her fingers dwarfed by his huge ones. With a small effort he could have mangled her hand.

Well now. It seemed they truly were at peace. Maybe Dankyo wasn’t that bad after all. Something floated loose inside. Inkline was gone—it’d been weeks since she’d seen him, and it seemed as if he’d never return. Maybe her dream could come true. Maybe she could stay here.

Dankyo ratcheted the throttle forward. The buggy leaped into motion and surged over the road’s edge, over the undergrowth, its legs telescoping out until they were a yard above ground level. “Now I get to show you what she really can do!” He grinned. They bounced over a small tree.

She clutched at her skirt as it billowed up, tucked it back under.

“Isn’t that skirt a bit impractical for tree pruning?” he yelled.

Heat flushed across her face. It was true. She’d worn it because Theo liked to run his hands up underneath dresses and skirts to fondle her—not something she’d admit to Dankyo.

“I, uh, didn’t know I’d be doing that when I dressed this morning.”

He slightly raised his eyebrows, then gunned the engine again. The vehicle bucked like a horse while he negotiated a gully pocked with craters. Her teeth rattled.
Lord
. Dankyo truly had a thing for driving fast over impossible terrain.

He slewed the car to a stop. The rain had moved on east, and the sky showed patches of blue. She’d no doubt have smelled the fresh scent of the rain if it hadn’t been for the nose-clogging odor of engine oil and singed rubber.

“One last question.” From the way he gripped the wheel in both hands and stared forward, this question would be worse than the last.

What else could he need to know?

He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to answer this, and…ah, do not repeat this to anyone. Why is it that a strong woman like you lets a man lord it over her?”

Perplexed, she stared.
Is he blushing
? She shifted in the seat, tapped her fingers on the sway bar. The question was exceptionally personal.

Ah. A ray of light dawned in her mind. She’d never seen him with a woman, though Kirsten sure wanted to latch on to this impenetrable man. If any man could be an island, that was Dankyo. But he’d laid himself open here, shown her the crack in his armor. Somehow, she doubted anyone else had seen this side of him. It pleased her no end.

Then she remembered the spanking. Had
that
brought this on? Heavens no, she was not
ever
going to follow up that train of thought.

She screwed up her mouth. “I don’t know. I don’t know myself the whole answer to that. But, believe it or not, I enjoy it. Maybe that makes you think I’m stupid.” She shook her head. “Or crazy.”

He raised his thick fingers on the wheel, one by one, like a pianist ready to play. “No. I don’t think that. But…thank you for answering. I’ll take us back now.” He revved the engine and drove off smoothly.

Puzzling
. Maybe she should drop some hints to Kirsten. Would it scare her away?

“By the way, we’ve confirmation just today that the PME have admitted to planning mass assassinations. They’ve made assurances that all such plans are now defunct. Without your information, we’d never have known.”

“Oh. That’s fantastic news.”

“Yes.” He accelerated.

Thank the Lord. I’m free for sure. No Inkline to worry about ever again. Free.

Only, on the way back, in the far distance, she thought she glimpsed Francine de-camouflage from a tree trunk and then merge back in. It was for the barest second, so she couldn’t be certain. It bothered her all the way back.

If Inkline truly was gone, why would Francine be here? If that was her, was Francine spying on her, or had she too escaped the grasp of the PME?

Chapter Nineteen

The afternoon before Theo left, they visited Filip again at the kennels. He presented Claire with a wriggling puppy. All soft gray-brown fur and pink licking tongue, it squirmed until she had to put it down. Once there it went straight to Theo’s shoe to gnaw on a shoelace.

“I’m sorry, but Angeliona’s puppies are too little to leave her yet. This one is weaned and should make a lovely guard dog for the colonel’s bedroom door.”

“The bedroom?” Claire frowned and squatted to drag the puppy away. It refused and stayed, chewing. She rested her forearms on the top of her thighs, the sleek material of her leather tights under her skin. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“A girl, of course.” Filip’s eyebrows waggled. “The colonel likes the girls.”

Theo stooped and put a hand on Claire’s shoulder. As always, that simple pressure, even through the cloth of her blouse, made her recall everything they did in the bedroom and sometimes out of it. She leaned her head into his arm.

“I’m not sure about this one.” Theo grunted. “She bites. Is she house-trained yet, Filip?”

“Your lady?” Filip drew back in mock surprise. “You bite, Miss Claire? I would never have thought you’d let this one so out of control, mon Colonel.” He chuckled.

“If you weren’t old enough to be my grandfather, Filip.” Theo sighed.

“He likes my jokes.” Filip nudged Claire. “She will be house-trained soon. I will send her to you then.”

“Good.” Theo helped Claire to her feet.

When they walked outside and saw the rain-swept lawn, Theo held her arm, preventing her from stepping out from under the eaves. Frogs croaked their happiness from a nearby drainpipe. She shivered. The air had cooled by several degrees.

“It should stop soon.” Theo turned those gray eyes on her. “I see that Filip likes you. That is your puppy, not mine”—he grinned—“and the first one to live in the mansion.”

“It is? She is?” The facts astounded her. She put hand to her throat. No one had ever given her anything like that, ever. “Oh, that is so nice. I’m going back in to thank him properly.”

“No.” Though quiet, the firmness made her quiver to a stop. “No. You’re staying here.” He crowded her, hand slipping about her waist. “For this.” He twisted her ponytail about his hand and dragged on it, bending back her head.

“Yes. Sir,” she choked out. The tide of excitement rose in her. She’d come to know the ways of his voice, and right now, he would brook no disobedience.

His lips came down on hers, savage, as if he wished to provoke her. She wondered how far she might go and nipped back at his lip. It evoked a growl from Theo. “That, woman, you will pay for, tonight.”

She shivered, wondering what that meant. Tonight would be interesting.

“Perhaps,” he added, “we should try out a whip?”

She jerked away as far as she could, shaking her head.

“No? Ah, but I’ve seen how curious you are when I bring them out. Think on it, because, if I see the slightest hesitation on you, I will be using one.”

She said nothing, appalled, yet, truly, she was no longer certain what she desired. Things she’d thought abhorrent, she’d screamed in ecstasy at when used on her.

“Ah. Then that’s a definite yes.” He moved his hand under her blouse, long, heavy fingers outspread and warming her, then down into the crevice of her ass. He took her mouth again, even more violently, and as he did so, he gathered up the fabric of her leggings and drew them tightly into her cleft.

“Ah!” She gasped at the flood of sensation. They made love so often her body had no time to forget. Sometimes the merest brush of his body against hers would awaken her to desire.

She succumbed to the press of his tongue and lips, giving way to let him explore her mouth, opening wider and moaning. His finger wriggled between her buttocks, lower, into dampness.