Page 14 of Kiss of Steele (The Royal Occult Bureau #9)
FOURTEEN
RENNIE KEPT HIS word for the rest of the day.
Curse him.
That night, when he sat on the floor in my cabin, he didn’t touch me, didn’t kiss me, and didn’t do anything. I was still basking in the post-bliss of our rather pleasurable encounter in the conservatory; thus I didn’t try to seduce him. Besides, I wasn’t completely sure how to start seducing him. Not to mention, I’d die of embarrassment if he rejected me.
“Are you all right?” he asked, lowering a document he’d been reading. “You keep wringing your hands and shifting.”
“Don’t you want to sleep next to me?”
His face hardened. “No.”
“You’re lying.”
“And you should be sleeping.”
“I’m not?—”
The knock on the door shut me up.
“Er, Mr Steele?” Norton asked from the other side of the door. “I’m terribly sorry to trouble you, but there’s been an incident.”
Rennie was on his feet before I could grab my dressing gown. He opened the door a crack. “What happened?”
“One of the passengers.” Norton lowered his voice. “Mrs Morrison, she claimed you, er, didn’t behave like a gentleman to her.”
“What?” Rennie’s roar echoed in the cabin at the same time as I said, “Preposterous.”
It was the lamia. I tied the sash of my dressing gown and jumped off the bed.
“I need to ask you a few questions,” Norton said. “If you follow me to my office, I’ll be very grateful.”
“Of course.” Rennie put the documents in his bag and threw an exasperated glance at me.
The moment he shut the door behind him, I changed into the first dress I could grab and rushed towards Oliver’s cabin. I was wheezing by the time I ran up two levels and down the longest corridor in the world. My body was still recovering.
“Oliver?” I knocked on his door none-too-gently.
“Miss Fitzwilliam?” he asked from the other side. He opened the door, fully dressed in his grey suit. “Is something the matter?” His hair stuck out in every direction, as if he’d run his hands through it several times.
I brushed past him to enter his cabin. “Can I have a word with you in private?”
“What is it?” he said, closing the door behind him.
“The lamia. It attacked Mrs Morrison disguised as Rennie. Detective Norton is interrogating him.”
“Excellent.” A slow grin stretched his lips. “Where was Mrs Morrison attacked?”
“I don’t know, but I need your memory power to help Rennie.”
A scoff left him as he threw a dismissive hand up. “Rennie can wait. I want to see the woman first.”
“But if you help Rennie first, we can go together to see Mrs Morrison.”
“Where is Mrs Morrison?”
Anger burned the back of my mouth. “I don’t know.”
“Useless wench.” With those kind words, he opened the door and strode away.
“Useless rakehell.” Curse him for breathing.
Still annoyed at Oliver, I ran towards Norton’s office. The least I could do was offer Rennie an alibi.
I knocked on the door. “Detective Norton? It’s Miss Fitzwilliam.”
He opened the door and welcomed me into his office with a bow. “Miss Fitzwilliam, please take a seat.”
Jaw tense, Rennie rose from his chair when I entered. The emerald in his eyes had a stormy quality that spoke of poorly concealed wrath.
Norton clasped his hands behind his back. “Perhaps you can help me convince Mr Steele to cooperate.”
“Why? What’s the matter?” I asked, sitting next to him.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Rennie gave a nod towards the door.
I guessed he meant I should be chasing the lamia? But I wasn’t going to leave him alone.
“I apologise for the straightforwardness of my question,” Norton said, adjusting his glasses. “But can you confirm Mr Steeles has been with you all evening?”
Oh, bother. Was that all? Had Rennie refused to confirm he’d been in my cabin to protect my honour? “Yes, he has been in my cabin all evening.”
“Thank you, madam.” Norton shot a glare at Rennie. “I was just saying to your... cousin that?—”
“Sir.” A member of the staff barged in. “Sir, I’m sorry, but it’s the Morrisons again. Mr Morrison said a man tried to enter his cabin.”
“Good gracious. What’s happening today?” Norton wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “Please wait here.” He shut the door with a thud.
“The lamia?” Rennie asked.
“Oliver went after it. He very rudely refused to help you and preferred going to find Mrs Morrison. I guess he’s the man who tried to enter their cabin.”
“What a mess.” He rubbed his forehead. “I didn’t want to involve you.”
“That’s very kind of you, but what’s the point of protecting me if Oliver can fix memories in a heartbeat?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “That’s true. Still, I don’t like it. Especially after what happened today. Between us.”
I took his face and forced him to stare at me. “I hope what happened today will happen again.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “So do I.”
The door was flung open, and Norton strode inside. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead. “Mr Steele, Miss Fitzwilliam, I’m afraid you’ll have to follow me.”
What now? I fell into step next to Rennie as we left the office and headed towards the back of the ship. Norton led us below deck, past the second-class cabins, and towards the engine room. I’d inspected the SS Florentia so many times I had a pretty clear idea of her layout. And bother! I was even starting to address the ship as ‘she’ as sailors did. One couldn’t be more intimate than that with a ship.
“Where are we going?” Rennie asked as we climbed down another ladder.
While the upper levels were pristine and fresh, the bowels of the ship were dark, smelly, and noisy.
“The cargo hold,” Norton replied. “There’s something I wish to show you.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. There was a note of sheer excitement in Norton’s voice that started a chill in my body. And there was something else. Something I couldn’t place. A high-pitched ringing I’d never heard before in Norton’s voice.
I took Rennie’s hand and paused. “I don’t like this,” I whispered.
“Neither do I.” He pushed me behind him. “Norton, what is the meaning of this?”
In a movement too fast for a human eye to catch, the detective leapt and attacked Rennie, which meant he attacked me as well. I fell over backwards, crushed by the combined weights of Rennie and Norton pressing against me.
Pain burned in my back when I hit the floor. Rennie grunted and shoved Norton. Or rather, Sandro. His facial muscles trembled, as if he were having a seizure. His features changed again to those of Edward. Dash it, it was the lamia.
Precious air rushed into my lungs when the weight lifted from my chest. As I picked myself up on unsteady legs, Rennie and the lamia were engaged in a quick fight in the confined space of the narrow passageway. A crack opened on the wall when Rennie slammed the lamia against it. I had no idea Rennie could generate so much violence... and look so incredibly erotic in the process. His muscles snapped and contracted. His face was scrunched up in concentration. His movements were sharp and precise. He was a sight to behold. It wasn’t my fault if wetness pooled between my thighs. Rennie himself had told me I was very responsive. I hadn’t been sure what he’d meant by that, but I knew it now. I was easily aroused by him, and I wasn’t going to apologise for it.
But the lamia seemed to be a good match, especially since it kept changing form. One moment it was Norton, the next a tall, bald man with sharp teeth, then a huge furry creature. Rennie ducked blows and parried punches until there was a popping noise, like that of a champagne bottle being uncorked, and the lamia vanished, leaving only a glittering silver trail behind.
Panting, Rennie stood in the middle of the corridor, fists up. Blood oozed from a cut on his chin. “Hellfire.”
I staggered towards him. “Are you all right?”
He wiped his chin. “Just surprised. I didn’t expect the lamia to be so strong or quick.” He brushed my cheek, roaming his gaze over me. “How are you? Are you hurt?”
“My back is sore, but aside from that, I’m all right.” I leant into his touch.
He sucked in a breath that strained his waistcoat. Sweaty and ruffled by the fight, he was even more handsome than usual. Had he always been so attractive? His features were the same, his nose was still crooked, and his body was still powerful. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t wish to feel his hands on me again. Or his mouth. He didn’t frighten me anymore.
He cleared his throat and withdrew his hand. “We’d better return to Norton’s office before he thinks I want to escape justice.”
Or before I begged him for a tumble.