Steamed (24 page)

“I hope your trust is not misplaced,” Alan said, giving me a warning look.

“I’d be offended by that, but I’m all too aware of the fact that you don’t know me like Tavy does,” Jack said, squeezing my hand. “I can keep a secret. And yes, I agree she can’t go on the transport ship.”

“Which means we’ll have to get her off it by some other means,” I said, drawing my attention away from the stroke of Jack’s thumb along my fingers, and on to the issue of his sister. “We could target the confusion that happens during takeoff or landing, but there are bound to be too many guards around at either time.”

“You’ll have to do it en route, then,” Alan said.

Jack looked up, his eyes bright. Something that I can only describe as an unholy glee lit within them, making both the green and brown eyes shine. “You know what that means, don’t you, Tavy?”

I slumped back against the plush leather cushions of Alan’s carriage as I realized just that very thing.

“What?” Alan asked, looking from him to me and back again.

“Octavia’s just a bit disconcerted because she’s about to become that epitome of steampunk adventurers.”

I sighed heavily, and wished I was a good thousand miles away from this spot.

“And what’s that?” Alan asked, puzzled.

Jack grinned.

“Don’t say it,” I snapped. “There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t. You said yourself that there wasn’t.”

I sighed again. Brought low by my own words—how mortifying.

“What are you two talking about?” Alan asked, leaning forward to pin us back with a questioning look.

“Mr. Dubain,” Jack said, making a bow from where he sat next to me, donning the air of one presenting someone to an august personage. “Ambassador to the emperor William whatever-number-he-is.”

“Oh, God,” I moaned, and dropped my forehead to my hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“What is happening?” Alan demanded. “Why is Octavia groaning?”

“May I present to you Miss Octavia Pye, captain of the prestigious airship
Tesla
. . .”

“Octavia, has your lover gone mad? What is he blathering about?”

“Just kill me now and be done with it,” I moaned.

“. . . and now, beloved to steampunk fans the world over, that most dread of all persons . . .”

I looked up and glared at Jack as he leaned to the side and kissed the tip of my nose. “I’m not going to forget this. Just so you know.”

“. . . a bad-to-the-bone, genuine, one hundred percent pure airship pirate.”

“Gah!” I yelled.

Alan looked thoughtful.

 

“
T
hat’s everything, I think,” I said, closing the door to my cabin before sinking exhaustedly onto my bunk. “I’ve talked with the crew, stowed what stores we will need for the flight home, and checked the envelopes for wear. Everything is as shipshape as it can be.”

Jack looked up from where he sat at the small desk that was bolted along one wall of my cabin. He raised a sandy eyebrow. I had an almost overwhelming urge to stroke the brow. “You don’t sound very happy.”

I considered my hands. “I don’t like lying to my crew.”

“Which is why I suggested you let me do it.” Jack set down his pen. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. When we first talked about this plan, I didn’t think about what it would mean to you. We don’t have to go forward with it. We can find some way to save Hallie once she’s in England.”

“It will only be harder there,” I said, shaking my head. “Infinitely harder. And I appreciate you offering to speak to the crew on my behalf, but I am still the captain of this ship—at least, until the Corps discovers that I have falsified flying authorization, stolen one of their airships, and turned to piracy—and I will perform my duties to the best of my abilities so long as I have them.”

“You’re throwing away your career because of Hallie,” he said softly. “You won’t be given a command of your own after this, will you?”

“The Black Hand has a couple of airships they’ve stolen. With luck, I will take over control of one of them,” I answered. “Much as I appreciate your sympathy, I don’t see any real sense in dwelling on the decision—it was necessary, and I made it.”

Jack’s face was filled with guilt, the knowledge that I was giving up my career showing as stark pain in his eyes. “I should never have allowed you to go ahead with this plan.”

I got to my feet, dusting off my skirt, which was a bit smudged with dirt after I had scaled the scaffolding that surrounded the envelopes. “Now you are being presumptuous and arrogant. I am in control of my life, Mr. Fletcher, not you. Have you finished with your tasks? I have only the autonavigator to deal with; then I will be able to help you with anything else that needs doing.”

“Almost. I was just going over the to- do list. You said you saw to the boilers?” he asked, his pen poised over an item on a lengthy list.

“Yes, both checking and filling, although Alan and I were almost seen pumping the water into them. Luckily, we saw the guard before he saw us, and we pretended to embrace in order to throw him off.”

The look of pain faded slowly. One side of his mouth curled up. “Is that supposed to make me jealous? Because if it is, you’re going to have to work harder than that. You’d have to say something like he had his hands down your corset and was tweaking your nipples the way that makes you squirm and beg for more in order to get a rise out of me. Or if he suddenly realized what a delectable hunk of woman he let get away from him all those years ago, and decided to fix that by pinning you against a wall, hoisting up your skirts, wrapping your legs around his hips, and plunging deep inside your heat, burying himself over and over into you, feeling every single one of your muscles tighten around him until he lost all control. Something along those lines might do it.”

I stared at him, the images he was painting dancing in my mind—but with an obvious substitution. “Against the wall, Jack? One can . . . that is, I suppose there is no reason not to, but it strikes me as a wholly uncomfortable . . . with my legs around your hips? While standing? Goodness. The treatise never mentioned that.”

He grinned and dropped the pen he was using to cross off an item on a long list. “I’m glad you automatically put me in there rather than Alan. Yes, it can be done that way. Both parties have to have some strength and flexibility, but it’s doable. Would you like to try it?”

“Now?” I asked, glancing around the cabin, my brain a whirl of desire and need and the realization that I was fast losing all control of my baser self when around Jack. “This moment?”

“Tempting as you are, I suppose we should wait until I’ve finished my work with the engines. But when I’m done, my fair Octavia, then I shall show you a few things that your precious treatise didn’t think of.”

“The treatise was supposed to be comprehensive,” I said, frowning. “If there are indeed gaps in its coverage, then I shall request my money back.”

Jack laughed and gave me a look that made me feel as if he’d laced my corset too tight that morning. “There’s nothing like hands-on experience, I’ve always said. Not that I want to change the subject, but is Alan staying on board tonight?”

“No. He has an embassy dinner to attend, and then he will meet with Etienne and confirm the plans for tomorrow. He also wishes to stay close to the vice-provost in case the prisoner-transport plans change.”

“They’d better not, not after busting our respective asses for the last two days covertly getting your ship ready to fly. What time did you tell your crew to meet you here?”

“Six bells.”

His forehead furrowed.

“Seven o’clock in the morning,” I translated the time. “I told them to be prompt, as we would leave as soon as possible. They will not expect to be ready for immediate takeoff, but I’ll simply tell them that the Aerocorps had the ship readied.”

“You’re sure there are no ships coming in at that time?”

I shook my head. “I asked the director of the aerodrome most specifically, pretending I was interested in a ship leaving for England, and he said there were no arrivals expected until after the wedding. There won’t be but a few Corps members about at that time in the morning. The chances that one of my crew will find anyone to mention our departure are very slight.”

“Excellent. All is going according to plan, Octavia. Now if I can just finish up the items on my list, I can turn my fullest attention to showing you that in matters of lovemaking nothing can beat practical experience for learning opportunities.”

My body warmed at the look he gave me. “I will just go check that the rest of the stores are in place.”

“That’s a mighty pretty blush you have going there, sweetheart. Can it be that you’re indulging in a few fantasies about me?”

“About you?” I paused at the door, straightened my shoulders, and gave him my most quelling look. “Sir, you flatter yourself. You are a scoundrel and a rogue, and I would never waste a blush on someone of your ilk.”

“While you’re the sexiest airship pirate who ever planned a daring midair rescue, and I can’t wait to spread your thighs and—”

I shut the door rather abruptly, fanning myself for a moment before proceeding down the walkway, the muffled sound of Jack’s laughter following me.

“I have never in my life met such a man as you,” I murmured as I entered the mess, heading for the galley beyond. “The things you do to me . . .”

“Glorious one! You wish for your Francisco to do the things most extraordinary to you?
Madre de Dios!
I thought the day would never come, but me, I am patient, and for you I knew it must not be unneeded that your hair of the most flaming color was for me.”

I whirled around at the first sound of the voice, clutching my Disruptor. “Mr. Francisco! What on earth are you doing here now? Didn’t you understand that we are not leaving until tomorrow morning?”

A shadow from the galley formed into that of a man. His eyes examined me in a leisurely fashion that more or less stripped my clothing from my person. “
Sí
, but me, I am the steward most fabulous, am I not? You say that you arrange for the stores to be brought on board ship for me, but there are many little things, spicy things, things that will make you sweat and moan with pleasure when you taste them, these things only I can see to.”

“I told you earlier today that I would be happy to attend to anything you needed for the trip home,” I said sternly. There would be fewer guards with all airships but the
Tesla
and the transport ship gone, but I did not want to take a chance that one of those left to guard against attacks saw stores being delivered to the ship. Alan and I had worked very hard all day making sure that the copious deliveries that had been made had not drawn attention. If Francisco went and ruined everything now, I would have his hide. “I thought I made it quite clear that all of the crew were to enjoy one last night of leave before we hurry home for the emperor’s wedding.”

He shrugged. “But you are here, my most fiery one. And now you want me in the manner of the bull to a cow, yes?”

I blinked for a couple seconds and was about to disabuse him of such a notion when a voice behind me said, “If I am de trop, I will be happy to leave.”

I whirled around, glancing at the door directly to the side of me. I pointed at it, glaring. “Mr. Llama! That door did not open!”

Both men looked at the door for a moment before returning to me.

“Don’t give me that look! I
know
it didn’t open. I’m all of two yards away from it, and I would have noticed if it opened. And it didn’t. And there was no one in the mess when I entered it. So just where, my elusive Mr. Llama, did you come from, hmm?”

Mr. Llama had the nerve to look surprised. “Where did I come from, Captain?”

“Yes! Where? As in, how did you get into this room without me seeing you enter?”

“What’s all the noise about, Tavy—oh . . . uh . . .” The door opened and Jack stood in the doorway, looking startled. “Er . . .”

Mr. Francisco spat out a word that was not at all polite. “What is he doing here, beloved
capitán
of my hair? I thought we had left him behind, but then he is here with the revolutionaries. Why did they not take him? Why did they not cut out his heart and cook it in a tomato sauce with garlic, olive oil, and just a hint of bacon?”

“I’m back. And for the record, Octavia’s hair and all the rest of her is mine, so you can just keep your lecherous eyes and whatever else is bulging out of you to yourself,” Jack said, looking askance at Mr. Francisco’s very tight, completely nonregulation breeches.

“I would object to such a wholesale dismissal of my personal rights, but I have more important battles to fight at the moment,” I told him with a little frown before turning back to Francisco. “As it is, you must leave the . . . where is Mr. Llama?”