its history—the emerald adorns yet another beauty.” They met their cadre of friends in the club car and made their way to a crowded dining car. She and Exeter were seated at a table for two, while Jersey, Valentine, and America dined together several tables away.
She nibbled on a tender piece of duck breast. There was something daring and naughty about this ruse. Mrs. Jason Alexander Exeter, Baroness de Roos. Another glance at the ring forced a hard swallow past the lump in her throat. She angled her bustle to one side of her chair and lengthened her back.
She felt like stretching—or prowling.
“How are we feeling this evening?” The doctor in Exeter didn’t miss much, and she was beginning to exhibit signs of a shift. A distinctive flush to her chest, neck, and cheeks along with restlessness.
“The cat stirs—and my head hurts.” She lowered her eyes. “Would you mind, terribly, if I retire early?”
Exeter reached for her hand across the table. “Stay with me—just a few more minutes.” He signaled the waiter. “Cognac.” He looked to her. “Darling?”
Stunned, slightly, at his endearment, she ordered a Cointreau.
Mia pieced together a careful description before answering. “A hooded face, not unlike the Nightshades when they wear their warrior gear and cloaks—and the cape swirled about, trailing strands of glittering particles. There was a flash of iridescent green in the creature’s eyes as they passed over me.”
“Any recognizable facial features?”
“It was a specter that came and went so quickly, I could almost believe the apparition didn’t happen at all, but for the eyes . . .” An icy shiver ran through her. “Strange beams of light passed through the glass, but I felt as if there was no life behind them—like the moving images Tim receives from the Outremer. The ones that act and talk like a human being, but are in fact, particles of light.” Tim Noggy often communicated using this form of science, or magic. Frankly, it all seemed rather Jules Verne to Mia. She looked up at Exeter. “What do you make of it?”
“An automaton from the Outremer.” Exeter added, “It is possible there is a flesh-and-blood maker who manipulated the—let’s call it a wraith—from a remote location like Paris.” He ordered another cognac.
Mia pressed her lips together and remained neutral. She was quite certain he was avoiding being alone with her. And yet, some part of her knew . . . it was all he could think about. The thought not only gave her comfort— but strength. Mia rose from her chair. “Might I have the key?” He shot up from his seat and handed over her request. “Take your time, perhaps you might enjoy a cigar in the lounge car . . .” Clasping the key, she smiled a patronizing, wifely sort of smile. “. . . darling.”
She made her way down a narrow aisle to the door that matched the number on the key fob. Weeks ago, America had cautioned her. “Men love the hunt—the chase, whatever you wish to call it. If you truly love him, don’t deprive Exeter of the joy of capturing you.” Esmeralda Parker had offered similar advice.
A silver half-moon illuminated the compartment interior as well as the passing countryside. Mia moved to the window. It would not be long now, they traveled on
As the train crossed over a river, the image of the moon traveled with them, reflected in the calm waters below. “The Seine is quite broad here.” Even though Exeter spoke softly, she started at his words.
Mia glanced back. “Rather stealthy of you.” She returned to the river. “I’m a bit jumpy tonight, I’m afraid.”
“Mia, I never expected last night to feel so . . .”
“Awkward?” she offered, cynically.
“Right.” He was close—so close the word warmed the tip of her ear. He wrapped an arm around her. “All morning I’ve had to fight off a reverie of licentious urges—thoughts that might consume me if I let them.”
She leaned back against his chest. “Undo me, Exeter.”
Long, tapered fingers patiently unbuttoned and removed her dress. She unbuckled her bustle and stepped out of silk petticoats. Silently, in the moonlight, they performed the kinds of duties a husband and wife traveling without servants shared—a delicious intimacy suffused the air. “And how are you both?” He asked softly.
She pivoted within his arms. “She is aroused.” A blush flamed up her neck. “As am I.” Exeter lifted her hand to his chin, and rubbed playfully. “Untie my cravat.”
Gas lamps from a passing rail station briefly lit the side of his face. His heavy-lidded, primitive gaze spoke of a wildness inside him that matched hers—something she hoped to let loose.
She slipped the tie from around his collar.
“Hand it to me.”
Her gaze lowered to his mouth. “Kiss me, first.” Even in the dark she knew he smiled as he tugged the neck cloth from her grip.
“I believe you do need to be kissed.” He pressed against her camisole and corset, and her nipples peaked. “Hands together—in front.” He wound the cloth around her wrists and then lifted her arms overhead. He tied the ends of the cravat to the brass rail of a luggage rack.
Loosing her pantalettes, he pushed them down an inch at a time, until they fell below her knees. He wrapped an arm around her waist and she lifted one leg, then the other, stepping out of silk drawers. His hands skimmed her naked hips and buttock cheeks. Cupping her bottom, he brought her pelvis against him and rubbed in a lazy way—back and forth, as he nuzzled her neck. “Open your legs.” He whispered his demand and inserted his leg between hers. “Wider, darling.”
As he massaged her bottom, a finger slipped down between her buttock cheeks. “I want to know exactly how hot you are right now.” Exeter reluctantly backed away. “I think it’s time I take your temperature.”
Mia blew a few stray hairs out of her face and glared. “Take my word for it—hot.” Exeter struck a match, lifting the chimney on a wall sconce. The compartment glowed with warm flickering light. He blew out the match. “Not that kind of hot—I want a reading on your internal body temperature.” Exeter opened his bag and removed several instruments. He poured rubbing alcohol over his fingers and dried his hands with a sterile cloth. He shook a long thin instrument several times and held it up to the light.
Her lower anatomy was completely exposed; all she wore was the briefest camisole, corset, and striped stockings. And another thing—she was quite sure she was wet—dripping wet.
He dipped the glass temperature gauge into ajar, then wiped it clean. Exeter turned and ran his gaze up silk stockings, stopping at the apex of her legs—the dark triangle of her sex. “If it makes you feel any better, Mia, you have aroused me to the point of agony.”
Good God—this was so disturbing and yet . . . she was also aroused.
He approached her slowly. “I intend to make this as pleasurable for you as possible.” He tilted her head and kissed her lips—teasing out her tongue, with soft pillowed kisses. His arms went around her and a slick finger moved down between her buttock cheeks, where he gently circled the small tight opening. Her knees trembled as his finger penetrated her anus. A wave of pleasure shuddered through her body.
Exeter angled back. “Now, open wide and lift your tongue.” He inserted the thermometer into her mouth and flipped open his pocket watch. “Five minutes—keep your mouth closed.” Glancing up, he smiled. “You were expecting something else?” Mia thought better of a glare, flicking her eyes upward and away from him.
“I realize this is difficult, but do keep in mind—you are not alone.” He moved up beside her, nearly straddling her hip. “As the pleasure climbs and you find yourself at the edge, try to use the last waves of pleasure as a release—from her. Use the power of your climax to settle her down.”
His hand traveled lower, past her navel and through her curls. Expert fingers parted her labia, while his other hand stroked her bottom. “Four minutes.” His words buffeted against her ear and she swayed against him —gyrating her hips—she couldn’t help it. He answered her with a deep groan, as two fingers circled her clitoris. His mouth grazed her neck even as his teeth ravaged her earlobe. “I am going to explore every intimate part of you.” His gruff promise sent a shudder of arousal through her. “And you are going to give me access.”
He tilted her backside toward him. “Open.” His hand moved between her legs from the rear, collecting the slick essence of her arousal. As he pressed against her hip, his fingers invaded, from both sides. Stroking from the front, he circled the throbbing center of her pleasure, while gently tracing the seam between buttock cheeks, a single digit played with the small sphincter muscle, creating such a pleasurable sensation Mia wanted to release a
