The UnTied Kingdom (35 page)

For the first time in his life, his nerve failed.

He shoved out of the hot, crowded bar, silence dropping down around him until his footsteps thudded loudly on the cheap boards, and slammed outside into the rain, which was coming down heavier than ever, soaking him in seconds. He needed to damage something, hit something, because Eve had been hurt and she was so precious and it was
all his fault
, but he wasn’t armed and he ended up punching the sign announcing the NAAFI bar, which was rough and hard and bloody hurt.

Sucking his bleeding knuckles, he decided to go to the officers’ mess to get very drunk, and headed back towards the parade ground and the main entrance to the building.

He’d probably got halfway when Eve shouted, ‘Harker!’ and he froze.

She hopped out of the bar on one crutch, ducking against the rain, and reached him as he turned, slowly. She was smiling, but it faded when she saw his face, and for a second she stared at him uncertainly.

‘You’re here,’ she said, and Harker just nodded, taking her in. Her face was pale, her wet hair flat to her head, and her right hand was tucked inside its sleeve. She looked small, smaller than he remembered.

‘Are you all right?’

He nodded again. He wanted to grab her and hold her against him and tell her all kinds of mushy stuff that appalled even himself.

When he didn’t say anything, Eve asked, ‘Is Tallulah all right?’

‘She’s in there.’

‘Oh.’ Eve glanced back at the comparative cheer of the bar, then at Harker again. She looked unsure. ‘Well, I … Where are you going?’

‘Officers’ mess. Nicer bar.’

She nodded. ‘Yeah, probably.’ She shivered.

‘You should get back inside,’ Harker said, gesturing to the pounding rain.

Eve nodded again, and he turned to go, aching for her.

‘Wait,’ she said, and he spun back. ‘I don’t believe this.’

‘Believe what?’

‘This! Last time you saw me I was incoherent with fever, I had a gunshot wound in my leg and a burnt hand and needed hospitalisation, and you can’t even ask how I am?’

Her cheeks were pink now, her eyes flashing angrily, and it was taking all of Harker’s self-control not to grab her, strip her naked and find out exactly how she was.

‘How are you?’

‘Cold, wet, and annoyed.’

Harker, angry, frustrated and
aching
, moved suddenly, picked her up in his arms and she struggled, but not particularly effectively. ‘Hey! What are you doing?’

‘You need to get inside. Shouldn’t get those dressings wet.’

‘Oh, so you have noticed I’m hurt?’

‘
Yes
,’ Harker said grimly, striding towards the officers’ quarters.

‘Right, but I can walk, you know!’

‘No, you can’t.’ Was it his imagination, or was she slightly less soft and round than she used to be? More fragile. Heaven help him, he was going to kill each and every Coalitionist in Leeds.

‘Well, I could if you’d let me have my crutch back! You just left it there, someone’s going to trip over it.’

‘I don’t care.’ He kicked open the door, ignored the duty officer, and carried Eve up the stairs to his quarters.

‘And where are you taking me?’

He hesitated on the stairs. Eve glared at him.

‘Do you have a bunk somewhere else?’

‘Well, no,’ she began, and Harker started walking again, ‘but if you take me back to the hospital then–’

‘Daz has already reassigned your bed.’

‘Well, yes, but–’

He shoved open the door to his room with his shoulder.

‘Um, whose room is this?’ Eve said, looking around.

‘Mine.’ He set her down carefully on the bed, but to his annoyance she sprang back to her feet again. At least, that was probably her intention, but the end effect was that she moved carefully on to one foot.

‘Oh,’ she said, looking uncomfortable, her arms wrapped around herself. Her injured hand was still tucked into her sleeve. ‘Well, don’t you get the nicest accommodation?’

‘It’s called “pulling rank”,’ Harker said, ‘and I might as well while I still can.’

‘What?’

‘Never mind.’ He threw his sodden jacket on the floor, which made Eve scowl.

‘Don’t you
ever
pick up after yourself?’

‘Look, don’t start,’ Harker said. ‘I have spent a week trawling through the mud in that damned wagon, it hasn’t stopped raining, Tallulah has been trying for the Most Cheerful Soldier award, and I am tired, and hungry, and soaking wet through, so don’t bloody
start
, okay?’

He’d moved closer to her, and she’d backed up against the bed so they stood nose to nose. Her hair curled slightly at the ends, tendrils of it clinging to her neck. She smelled of rain on hot skin.

‘All right, so it sucks to be you,’ she said, nostrils flaring. ‘I’ve spent the week lolling about in bed by choice, have I?’

‘No.’ He closed his eyes. She was infuriating. ‘Look, those dressings could be wet–’

‘They’re fine.’

‘Let me see.’

‘No.’

‘
Eve
.’ He leaned closer, but there was no point trying to intimidate her with his height or his strength. She just glared back up at him.

‘Look, the one on my hand is supposed to be wet, it’s called a wet-to-dry dressing, it’s–’

‘Meant to be dry on the outside.’

Snarling under her breath, she drew her right hand out from her sleeve and thrust it in front of his face. ‘There. Happy now?’

Not really
. Her hand was practically mummified, each finger wrapped up separately, the palm swaddled with bandages. Waves of anger and guilt crashed over Harker as he took her hand in his, gently, careful not to put any pressure on the injured side. The dressing was, at least, dry.

‘Does it hurt?’ he asked.

‘Little bit. Some times more than others. Daz has me on lots of painkillers.’

Harker turned her hand over and very, very gently kissed the bandaged palm. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Yeah, well, you should be.’ She took her hand back belligerently. ‘Banks told me how you decided I’d defected to the other side, so thanks for leaving me to rot. They could have raped me or killed me–’

‘But they didn’t?’
If they raped her I’ll kill every one of them, I’ll burn them alive, I’ll bleed them and–

‘I’m still alive, aren’t I?’

‘No,’ Harker said wretchedly, ‘I mean–’

‘I know what you mean. And no, they didn’t,’ Eve said softly, then rallied. ‘Which is just as well for you, because if they had, I’d have to beat the crap out of you.’

Relief flooded him, and he nearly smiled, which probably would have been a mistake.

‘Beat the – Eve, you’re half-a-head shorter than me, and can you even lift a sword?’

‘Oh, so now you’re picking on me because I’m hurt?’

‘No, I am not picking on you, I’m just saying there’s no way you could take me in a fight.’

‘Oh, I so could take you.’

She was really close and really hot, and Harker thought,
Hell, yes, take me
, but then the light caught a fading bruise on her cheek, and he cursed himself.

‘You’re soaked through,’ he said, stepping back to a safer distance.

‘I’m okay.’

‘No, you’re not. You’ve only just recovered from one infection, your body is weak, if you catch a chill now it could be fatal, and that dressing on your leg could be soaked through.’
This is going to kill me
, he thought, even as he added, ‘Take your clothes off.’

‘No.’

‘Eve–’

‘I don’t have anything else to put on. I had to borrow these as it is.’

‘You can wear my clothes.’

‘I can’t, they’re all in wet heaps on the floor.’

‘If that dressing is wet, there could be maggots crawling in there, right inside the wound, eating–’

‘All
right
,’ Eve shouted, and unfastened her belt. She kicked at her boots, nearly losing her balance, and shied them across the room. One of them hit his shin.

‘Ow,’ he said.

‘Bite me.’

Love to
, Harker thought, but then she was shoving off her trousers and standing there wearing only an oversized wool sweater and a bandage, scowling at him.

‘Sit,’ he said, a touch hoarsely, relieved to see as she did that she was at least wearing underwear. There was only so much he could take.

The bandage was wrapped around her left thigh and didn’t leave much of it uncovered. Harker knelt by the bed, reminded himself that he’d do this for any one of his men who was injured, laughed internally at his own feeble attempts at justification, and ran his hands over the pale linen.

‘See?’ Eve said. ‘Dry.’

With one hand, he lifted her foot, making her thigh come off the bed, and ran his other hand under it.

‘Any maggots?’ she asked, and he looked up at her, wondering if she was being this beautiful on purpose. It was the sort of thing she’d do.

She was so warm, and so soft; yes, she’d lost weight, but her skin was smooth and he could see her breasts moving under her sweater as she breathed, and he wanted her so much he was nearly blind with it.

Abruptly, he dropped her foot and stood up. ‘You’re fine,’ he said. ‘You should – you should get some rest, and – dammit, you don’t have a room, I’ll–’

‘I also don’t have any dry clothes.’

Her sweater was damp. She should take it off, but Harker honestly didn’t think he could handle any more without pinning her down and ravishing her.

‘Look, stay here, I’ll go and find somewhere else to sleep.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ She reached for the damp trousers and boots she’d just taken off, and he lost his patience.

‘Eve, don’t be so bloody stupid. You can’t put wet clothes back on.’

She glared at him, standing up again and resting on one foot. ‘I can and I will. I’m even old enough to dress myself, you know.’

‘What, with one hand?’

‘Oh, that’s below the belt.’

‘You can’t take care of yourself–’

‘I don’t
believe
you just said that.’

‘No, I meant–’

‘You know what?’ Eve threw the wet clothes back on the floor. Her boots thudded. ‘I just don’t get you. What is wrong with you?’

‘Me? I’m not the one who thinks I can take care of myself after a gunshot wound and infection that nearly killed me.’

‘It didn’t nearly kill me.’

‘If Daz hadn’t got you here–’

‘Yes,
Daz
. I didn’t see
you
rushing to be by my side. Half the time you don’t even seem to like me very much, but I remember you kissing me, Harker, and that was
not
fake. I wish you’d make up your bloody mind, because I never know if it’s one thing or the other–’

And Harker kissed her. Just grabbed her and kissed her, as deep and hard and passionate as she’d kissed him in that darkened library at the grammar school a lifetime ago. He kissed her to shut her up, he kissed her because her mouth was driving him crazy, but most of all he kissed her because he couldn’t stand not kissing her any longer.

‘Don’t like you,’ he said when he let her go, and they were both breathing hard. ‘Don’t
like
you? Eve, I’m bloody crazy about you, and if you don’t know that then you’re more insane than I ever thought.’

Chapter Twenty-Five

Eve touched her lips. They tingled.

Harker was looking down at her, his eyes fierce, his hands gripping her arms.

‘Did you just call me insane?’

His eyes lightened a little with incredulity, but there was still tension in his face when he said, ‘I also said I was crazy about you.’

‘Yes, I was working up to that bit.’

He stared at her, those gunmetal eyes hot and hard on her, but she couldn’t find anything else to say, her brain wasn’t working properly, so she reached for him and pulled him back and kissed him again.

She hadn’t expected fireworks when she’d kissed him in the school. She’d never had fireworks with anyone else. But with Harker, she couldn’t seem to stop. When he kissed her, the world went away and she didn’t hurt so much, she wasn’t so tired and angry or just so lost and confused any more.

He held her in his arms, his body strong and hard and so wonderfully invincible. And his mouth on hers was like a miracle, his lips rough but his mouth soft. He kissed her with such passion and heat she was trembling when she pulled back.

‘I’m crazy about you too,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t know if I was just crazy in general, because you don’t even seem to like me, and–’

‘I do,’ Harker said. ‘Hell, Eve, I disobeyed orders for you. I endangered the mission for you. And I don’t think you’re insane.’ He brushed his lips against hers. ‘You’re shivering.’

‘Please don’t ask me to take this sweater off.’

He drew back a little, doubt creeping into those beautiful eyes, and Eve smiled and said, ‘I can’t do it with one hand.’

At that Harker smiled, then he laughed, and kissed her again, drawing the sweater up her body as he did, leaning into her and kissing her right up until the last second when he pulled the damp wool over her head. He pulled the sleeve over her injured hand so carefully, with such concentration, that it wasn’t until he’d tossed the sweater on the floor and turned back to her that he noticed she’d been naked underneath it.

He blinked, as if in shock, then reached out, ran his hand over her shoulder, making her shiver again. Then his gaze dropped, and he sucked in a breath.

‘Oh hell, Eve,’ he said, gazing at her with what looked like horror on his face.

‘Okay, that’s not the reaction I was looking for,’ Eve said, then his hand touched her ribs and she recalled the boot-shaped bruise there.

And she remembered, with a sudden flash of insight, how she’d reacted the first time she’d seen him with his shirt off. Had she immediately swooned at what had honestly been a very beautifully defined torso? No, she’d stared in horror and asked him how he was still alive.

She winced, and Harker snatched his hand back. ‘Sorry.’

‘No – no, it’s fine, I was just … look, take this off, would you?’ she said, plucking at his shirt. It was dry, his jacket having taken most of the rain damage.

Harker did, apparently not concentrating, and Eve reached out to touch the long, jagged scar on his stomach. He flinched and turned his face away, his jaw tightening, and she realised he was ashamed.

‘Harker,’ she said, sliding her hand up to his neck, feeling the rough stubble there. He didn’t look at her. ‘I never said how beautiful you are with your shirt off.’

That got his attention.

‘I just got a big dollop of what it’s like to stand there nearly naked and have someone only see the ugliness.’

He touched her shoulder again, his hand moving down gently to cup her breast, and this time there was no horror in his expression.

‘There’s no ugliness on you,’ he said. ‘You’re perfect, and beautiful–’

‘Well, you haven’t seen my hand,’ Eve said sadly, looking at it.

He took it and kissed the bandaged palm again. Just as it had the last time, it made Eve’s insides go hot and liquid. She wrapped her other arm around his neck, kissed him, and said, ‘Neither of us are wearing much here. Don’t you think we should do something about that?’

The look he gave her was one Eve would remember and use to keep warm on cold nights. He picked her up again, laid her on the bed, and got rid of the rest of her clothes and his. His legs were as scarred and battered as the rest of him, but instead of staring Eve pulled him down to her and revelled in the feel of his lean, hard body pressed against hers. His chest was hard, his thighs were hard, and his–

‘Oh no,’ she said, sitting up, and Harker gave her a warning look.

‘Don’t “oh no” me now, woman,’ he said.

‘Condoms,’ she said. ‘Banks said they’re standard issue, but–’

Harker laughed, kissed her mouth, then rolled away to grab his pack and dump the entire contents on the ground. Rather a lot of small shiny packages slithered out.

‘I’ve got bloody hundreds,’ he said.

‘I’m glad to hear–’ Eve began, then forgot how to speak as Harker cupped her breast and stroked the nipple, his other hand soothing her bruised ribs. He caressed her aching body, and somehow it didn’t ache as much any more. He kissed her breast, stroked her hip and very gently skimmed her injured thigh.

‘Tell me,’ he murmured against her skin, ‘if I’m hurting you.’

‘No,’ Eve gasped, because he’d just taken her nipple into his mouth and she was losing the capacity for thought.

When he slipped his hand between her legs her back arched, and her ribs protested, making her gasp in pain, and Harker said, ‘Okay, maybe I’ll stop that.’

‘Stop it and I’ll kill you,’ she panted.

He grinned and bent to kiss her again, and Eve held him there, both arms wrapped around his lean, muscular body. She kicked her good leg over his hip, felt the heat of his erection against her stomach, and buried her face in his throat. He had a beautiful throat. Hell, he had a beautiful everything.

When he slid inside her she looked up and saw such heat and intensity in his eyes she lost her breath. Stroking the hair from his eyes, she smiled, and he smiled back, looking kind of tense, which made her giggle.

‘Something funny?’

She shook her head. ‘No.’
I think I’m in love with you
. ‘Why aren’t you moving?’

‘Because if I do, my head might explode.’

She laughed again at that, and he smiled, dipping his head to kiss her, and then evidently he’d got his head in order because he did start to move, and suddenly it wasn’t so funny any more.

Everything he did wound her higher and higher. He kissed her neck and she panted. He brushed his hand across her breast and her back arched, and this time she didn’t even notice if it hurt. She wrapped her legs around him, licked the sweat from his skin and clutched his shoulders as he surged into her and she lost her mind.

Some time later, she came back from her trip around the stars and found Harker lying heavy on her, his face tucked into her neck, breathing hard. She stroked his back, and he looked up, kissed the corner of her mouth, and made to move away.

‘No,’ she said, pulling him back, because he felt so good there. She’d spent a night and a day in that freezing cell in Kirkstall remembering what it felt like to hold this big, hard man in her arms and wishing he was there with her, and now she had him she wasn’t about to let him go.

‘I’m too heavy for you,’ he said.

‘No, you’re not.’

‘I’ll be right back,’ he promised, and although Eve’s body was irritated that he’d left the bed, her brain was gratified that the condom was one thing he didn’t just throw on the floor.

He came back to her, lay on his back and pulled her into his arms, holding her carefully.

‘Am I hurting you?’

‘No, and stop asking. I’ll tell you if you’re hurting me.’ She snuggled against him. ‘I’m actually feeling better than I have since I got here. Maybe we should make this part of my treatment.’

He stroked her arm. ‘Happy to oblige.’

When she shivered, he pulled the covers over them both, but Eve pushed them back down again, tracing that scar on his stomach and asking, ‘What did this?’

‘Bayonet.’

It was a long scar, uneven and ugly. ‘It could have killed you.’

‘I think that was the idea.’

She kissed his jaw, because people had tried to kill him and she finally understood first hand how terrifying that was, and wrapped her arm around him, keeping him safe from harm.

Rain spattered the window, wind rattled the panes, but she was enveloped in warmth, more than a little in love and happier than she could ever remember being.

‘Hey,’ she murmured against his mouth. ‘You’re not smoking.’

‘No, I’m not. I think I’ll develop an addiction to you instead.’

Eve nestled her head against his shoulder. ‘Good plan.’ Her fingers carefully traced patterns between the cuts and stitches on the other side of his chest.

‘You’re not a fan of smoking, are you?’

‘Bad for the voice.’

‘Even if someone else does it?’

‘I’m going to assume you’ve never heard of passive smoking,’ Eve said drowsily. Come to think of it, she’d imagined kissing a smoker would be less pleasant. She didn’t even mind the smell of cigarettes on him. It was just … part of his Harkerness.

‘Passive …?’

‘Ne’mind.’ Her sleepy fingers caught a sore spot on his shoulder, making him flinch. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I need to go and get these stitches taken out in the morning anyway.’

‘’s it hurt?’

‘It’s fine. Eve, go to sleep.’

‘’s not even late.’

‘No, but your body’s been through a lot.’ Eve giggled sleepily. ‘Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.’

And he would, Eve thought fuzzily as her eyes drifted shut. He kept his promises.

Reveille woke Harker, which in itself was surprising. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so long. Maybe because it had been a while since he’d slept in such a comfortable bed. Or maybe because Eve was there with him.

She stirred in his arms, which in itself was extremely pleasant, and mumbled, ‘I hate that goddamned bugle.’

He smiled. ‘We all do.’

‘I swear he plays it right outside the hospital building. Did not need that waking me up in the morning.’

‘It’s a special quality of bugles that they sound like they’re right outside everyone’s window.’

Eve hmphed and turned over – or at least tried to. Halfway, she realised why she shouldn’t be sleeping on her left side, and turned back.

Harker laughed silently. Dropping a kiss on her hair, he moved away and slid out of bed.

‘Where you goin’?’

Harker was nonplussed. Reveille sounded, and he got out of bed. It was like asking why a bullet came out of the gun when you squeezed the trigger.

‘That’s Reveille,’ he said.

‘Do you have to get up?’

Harker stared at her. She was burrowed under the covers, her eyes closed, visible mostly as a mop of blonde hair.

‘Look, don’t confuse me,’ he said, sorting through his clothes to see what was wearable and taking her point about throwing them on the floor. ‘I’ll bring you something to eat, okay?’

Eve made a soft sound that said she was already half-asleep again, and Harker got dressed, kissed her hair, and left.

He was wearing damp clothes, the sun was invisible behind a sullen clutch of clouds, and he was starving, but he was smiling. He smiled at the flag, he smiled at the morning parade, and he smiled at the canteen worker slopping out his breakfast.

‘So did you sleep with a coat hanger in your mouth,’ came a voice behind him as he picked up his tray, ‘or are there more cheerful forces at work?’

It was Charlie. Well, it had to end some time.

‘The latter, I’m afraid,’ he said, unable to work up any real anxiety over her reaction.

‘Eve?’ she said, following him to a table and setting her tray down opposite him.

Harker nodded, grinned, and started eating. The porridge here was weak gruel compared to the honey-laced ambrosia the cook had created at Hatfield Chase, but after the tasteless slops he and Tallulah had been living on for the past week, it still tasted pretty good.

‘And I don’t care,’ he said, ‘you can lay it on me, I don’t care.’

‘Lay what on you, sir?’ Charlie asked, sprinkling salt on her porridge.

‘You don’t mind?’

‘Mind about what?’

‘Come on, Charlie, I know you ain’t stupid. Me and Eve. We weren’t playing chess all night.’

‘No, I don’t suppose you were.’ She didn’t look remotely bothered. ‘You’ll probably get more shit from Daz than me, especially if you’ve torn any of her stitches.’

‘She doesn’t have any – not visible ones,’ Harker reported, a touch smugly, because he’d checked everywhere.

‘Sir, look. I know I had doubts about her, but if she was shot, beaten, burned, and locked up in a cell with a fever, then I really don’t think the Coalitionists are her friends, do you?’

Some of Harker’s glow diminished slightly as his old anger came to the surface.
I’ll kill every one of them
. But he banished it, concentrated on the feel of Eve in his arms, her soft mouth and smooth skin and the way she moved under him, the sounds she made–