Page 6 of Kiss of Steele (The Royal Occult Bureau #9)

SIX

THE COMBINATION OF too many questions filling my mind and so much free time wasn’t a good one.

I’d spent the past two days thinking about Sandro, Edward, Rennie, and my parents without finding any connection. How had Sandro found me on board a ship? And if he’d been to Lisbon, how was he going to Tunis? Was he travelling on another cruise ship? Following me? Did he have a private ship of his own?

Detective Norton hadn’t discovered anything about the mysterious man who had attacked us or the elusive Scot, and I hadn’t spoken much with Rennie, not because I was avoiding him. He was busy with Detective Norton. Anyway, my lack of communication with him turned out to be a problem because the nausea was back with a vengeance.

As we approached Tunis, which sparkled with its blinding white houses and blue roofs, I was left with no choice but to ask Rennie for a sip of the green potion. A little shiver of dread ran up the back of my neck when I knocked on his door, the memory of the attack still fresh. Heck, the bruise was still there on my ribs to remind me of that kick.

“Rennie?” I said.

No answer.

I hadn’t seen him in the dining hall, and he didn’t like to stay on the deck and watch the view unless he was following me. Perhaps he was with Norton. Or was he being attacked again? I tried the knob. The door inched inwards.

“Rennie?” I called, sticking my head into the cabin.

No noise. The good news was that he wasn’t being attacked. I pushed the door open.

The bed was made. His clothes were neatly folded on the chair. His shoes sparkled with polish and were put aside in a corner. Even the pencils on the writing desk were arranged in a neat line. Military order if I’d ever seen it.

I stepped inside. I could have a very quick look around and search for the green potion without having to ask him anything.

I loitered on the threshold. Rummaging through someone else’s room wasn’t a decent thing to do. I should wait for Rennie and ask him. But in my defence, the little game of lies we’d been playing had put me in a tight spot. We both had secrets, and I wanted to see Sandro. So I felt authorised to sneak into Rennie’s room. Also, the nausea was becoming unbearable. I needed the green serum now. Sorry, Rennie.

A thrill of excitement made me giggle. I had more questions than ever about Sandro’s and Rennie’s secrets, but solving the mystery and sneaking around were fun. Finally, I was doing something dangerous and thrilling.

The click of the door shutting behind me sounded like thunder in the small room. I tiptoed to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer. A bunch of letters tied with a red ribbon lay on the bottom. There was a document folded in a corner. I perked up. The elegant, neat writing on the piece of paper belonged to my father.

The curiosity was causing my breath to hitch. Should I read it or not? Leave or stay? The good Monia my parents had raised said to leave. But the naughty Monia, who’d been lied to, said to stay. I was through with being polite. I hated being lied to.

The document was soft to the touch, as if it had been handled and unfolded many times. My hands shook as I unrolled it. The piece of paper was a contract between Father and Rennie.

Rennie had been hired to escort me during the trip around the Mediterranean Sea. Nothing new so far. I pressed my lips together as I read the list of clauses Rennie had to observe while working for my father. He had to take an oath that he would never, under any circumstances, touch me inappropriately, approach me with indecorous manners, or develop any romantic interest towards me, on pain of being expelled from the Royal Occult Bureau—the royal what? What in Hades was that?—and of being flogged until unconsciousness took him.

What? I wasn’t sure if I understood it correctly. Flogged?

What pile of horse dung was that? No one had been punished by flogging in England since... well, I had no idea, but it sounded mediaeval, to say the least. Also, how could Rennie avoid developing a romantic interest in someone? If he was attracted to someone, he couldn’t stop it, could he? And my goodness, he would be flogged. It was absolutely barbaric.

I folded the piece of paper and put it back in the drawer. If my parents didn’t want Rennie as my suitor, as I’d originally thought, then what was I doing here with him? Why were they against Sandro as my suitor? The only explanation was Rennie was protecting me from the assassins who wanted Sandro dead. But was a cruise a good idea? I’d be safer in the country where I could have as many bodyguards as my parents wanted. Unless the assassins were in England. My head was about to explode. Nothing made sense.

A vial of green potion rolled towards me when I shuffled the envelopes. I took it and slid it into my pocket, a hint of guilt stabbing my chest.

More confused than ever, I exited the cabin and shut the door behind me. The more I searched for answers, the more questions I found. I paused in front of Rennie’s cabin, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth and patting the vial in my pocket. Footsteps padded from the other side of the corridor. I shivered when Rennie walked towards me, suspicion tightening his face.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

I straightened. “I wanted to tell you that... I don’t feel well,” I said in a moment of inspiration. “I’ll stay in my cabin, sleeping.”

“What’s the problem? Is it the pain in the ribs?”

“No, it’s another thing. A private thing. A thing I don’t wish to share.”

A little crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Fair enough. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Oh, bother. Guilt stabbed me again. He was so sweet while I’d just rummaged through his things. “No, thank you. I’m going to my cabin.”

“I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Thank you.” I could feel the weight of his stare on me all the way down the corridor.

As usual, the SS Florentia took a long time to dock in the port of Tunis. I paced in my cabin, rolling the vial between my hands. All I had to do was wait for the right moment and sneak out of my cabin without Rennie being the wiser. It’d be the last time I sneaked out without telling him. I’d talk to Sandro, and that would be the end of it.

As my stomach groaned with nausea, I uncorked the vial and took a sip, my hands trembling with guilt and seasickness.

“Monia?” The knock on the door caused me to jolt, and I swallowed more green potion than I meant. Lord, it burned. I coughed and beat a fist against my chest, spitting green drops.

“Monia?” The voice belonged to Rennie, of course.

The potion was so sweet that I pulled out my tongue. The liquid burned all the way down to my stomach like strong sherry. I wiped my mouth with a handkerchief.

“Yes.” I put the vial in my pocket and opened the door, my stomach burning. I kept my distance from him and opened it only a crack, in case he could smell the green serum.

Tall and intimidating, he towered over me. “How do you feel? Do you really want to stay here? We’ve arrived in Tunis.”

My head spun. I didn’t have to fake the moment of dizziness that took me. “Yes. I prefer to stay here.” Even my voice sounded weak. Perfect. Or maybe not.

His posture slackened, as if he hadn’t expected my illness to be real. He craned his neck to look at me. “Do you want me to call the doctor?”

I pressed the handkerchief to my mouth. “No. I’ll stay in bed and rest. I’m sure I’ll feel better soon.”

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

“I’m going to sleep, so no, thank you.” Guilt would be the death of me.

He nodded, studying me. “I’ll come in later to see how you’re faring. I’ll bring you a repast and something to drink if you want.”

“No.” It came out too quickly. “I’m going to lock myself in and put a chair against the door as you told me. I just need some sleep.”

He eyed me again as silence stretched between us. “All right. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you.”

He gave a curt nod and left. I wouldn’t call him a friend, but I didn’t want him to be flogged nearly to death because of me. He might be brusque sometimes, but he was a good man.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to his retreating figure.

I tottered to the bed, wondering if I should stay here for real. But I wanted to see Sandro, and I wanted answers. After half an hour, my head felt clear and my stomach stopped burning enough to allow me to stand without staggering.

The straw hat I donned covered half of my face, giving me some privacy. I chose a dull brown dress I hadn’t worn during the cruise so far. Hopefully, no one would pay me too much attention. Keeping my head down, I headed towards the main deck and the gangplank, blending in with the crowd of people eager to see Tunis. I loitered before leaving the ship as I waited for a large group of passengers.

Tunis stretched out in front of me with its sandy shore and gleaming white houses. A wall built with limestone slabs rose to the right, casting a shadow on the golden sand. As my dizziness subsided, I smiled at the lovely city. Coming here hadn’t been such a bad idea.

I gaped at the magnificently tall palm trees bordering the High Road. Signs in French and Arabic pointed out the names of palaces and ancient places. Even the scents filling the air were a combination of French and Arabic traditions. There was the rich, buttery smell of fresh croissants wafting out of a bakery, and the spicy fragrance of couscous cooked with meat.

Visiting a city on my own, without the hindrance of the giggling tourists and the shouting guide—or a sulky bodyguard—had its charms. I sat on a bench in a park and enjoyed the sunlight warming my skin, wondering how Sandro would find me. In Oxford, I wouldn’t be able to walk on my own without a chaperone. My parents wouldn’t allow it. But here, I could simply be myself. I closed my eyes and relaxed for the first time in days.

“May I join you?”

I would recognise Sandro’s musical voice in a yelling crowd in the middle of a storm.

I flung my eyes open and sucked in a deep breath. Sandro was standing in front of me, tall, dark, and as breathtakingly handsome as I remembered him. No, he was even more handsome than I remembered. He was divine. The man embodied every fantasy and dream I’d ever had of the perfect man for me, from the limpid blue of his eyes to the fine bones of his cheeks and his musical voice. He was simply perfect.

“Sandro,” I whispered, my pulse spiking.

He removed his tall hat, freeing the mop of dark hair that brushed his face. “I’ve been longing to see you again, sweet Monia.” He sat next to me, his gaze studying my face. A whiff of his citrus scent teased my nostrils. “My goodness, you’re so beautiful that I can’t breathe. May I hug you? I’ve dreamt of you so often.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tightly, burying my face in the crook of his neck. His skin was soft under my touch, and a sense of calm washed over me.

“I missed you so much, my darling.” He stroked my hair gently.

I snuggled closer to him. His touch sent a thrill down my spine. “I missed you, too.”

We remained there, holding each other for a while. All the questions I meant to ask him were trapped in my mouth.

“May I kiss you?” he asked, caressing my hair. “I wished to kiss you that night in the garden before your mother started screaming.”

Rennie’s face flashed through my mind. “I don’t know.”

He laughed. “What answer is that?” He caressed my cheek again, and my body slackened. “One kiss.”

He whispered my name softly before pressing his mouth against mine and slipping his tongue between my teeth. Emotions spilt heat within me, like the energy that charged the air before a storm. He moved his mouth over mine gently, and although I wasn’t an expert in kissing, he mastered the technique beautifully. His tongue touched mine right as I wanted. He balanced strength and passion like an artist. It was the perfect kiss—heavenly and passionate. Exactly as I’d imagined it to be.

Brushing my cheeks with his knuckles, he broke the kiss. The blue in his eyes had disappeared, swallowed by a glossy black that was spilling even into the white.

Blimey. I blinked and rubbed my temple.

“Are you all right?” he asked, caressing my shoulder.

“It’s nothing.” I gazed up. His eyes were blue again. Odd. Maybe the darn green potion was to blame.

“You have a peculiar taste. What is it?” Maybe it was my imagination, but there was a note of anger in his voice.

I put a hand on my mouth. Dash it. Why hadn’t I brushed my teeth before leaving the ship? “I took something for my seasickness. It was killing me. Maybe that’s it.”

His eyes glinted, and a sudden harshness tensed his features. “It doesn’t matter.” He stroked my cheek again, but with a certain stiffness.

“Sandro, what happened? Why don’t my parents want me to be with you? And what does Edward have to do with anything?” I wanted to ask more questions, but I stopped myself. “You left me without a word. Then my parents sent me to Southampton to board a darn ship. I don’t understand what’s happening. Nobody tells me anything.”

“Because we want to protect you.” A flush coloured his smooth skin. “Monia, my kingdom is being threatened by anarchists. They tried to kill me more than once, even in England. Those assassins know no limits. I had to leave. I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me. Your parents were terrified you might be hurt because of me.” Each time he touched me, my spine wilted, my mind fogged, and my determination to seek answers faded. It was like a spell. “I agreed it was too dangerous to stay with you. I wanted to see you one last time, but for safety reasons, I had to flee.”

“Will I see you again?” My body wasn’t obeying me. I wanted to know more about the danger he was facing, but his touch was distracting me.

“Of course. Very soon.” He brushed his lips over my ear, sending a shot of desire straight to my core. “But please stay on the SS Florentia . The ship is safe.” He kissed me again, but not with passion.

Was the green serum so disgusting for him? Speaking of which, the dizziness was back.

“I have to go.” He kissed the tip of my nose and shot a glance behind me. Whatever he saw caused him to stiffen. “See you soon, my angel. I’ll be thinking of you every moment until we meet again.” Goodness, he ran away. Fast.

I waved, but I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. I mumbled a farewell, my tongue growing numb. As he became an indistinguishable figure in the crowd of people walking along the pavement, another figure became very distinctive. Rennie was striding towards me in all his red-hot anger. Even from a distance, I could tell he was furious.

Nostrils flaring, he stopped in front of me. “What is the meaning of this?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. My head spun, I wanted to sleep, and I wasn’t sure why I found his words so terribly funny. “You’re so furious.” I giggled. Somewhere, in a remote corner of my mind, I felt ashamed of myself.

“Do you find my anger funny? What is that?” He took a sniff and held my face and examined it, brow furrowing. Then his eyes flared wide with what looked like fear. “Bloody hell.” His rough hands patted me down in a rather rude manner.

I swatted them. “Hey. Stop that.” Despite my words, I giggled again.

He didn’t listen. “I knew it.” He fished out the vial from my pocket.

I was expecting him to become even angrier, but his face morphed into sheer panic. “How long ago did you take it?”

“A while.” I wanted to sleep, laugh, and cast up my accounts in whatever order happened to come first. “I’m so tired.”

His arms wrapped around me as he picked me up. “Don’t sleep now. Not yet. We must get back to the ship.”

“Why?”

“You need help. Walk with me, Monia.”

His warm body was solid and reassuring. I found myself leaning against him as he half-dragged, half-carried me towards the ship.

“I told you not to drink too much green serum.” His tone was concerned rather than accusatory.

“I didn’t mean to drink more than a sip.” A hiccup escaped me. “But you knocked on my door and gave me a fright. I swallowed more than I wanted.” My head was so heavy that it bobbed back and forth on its own.

He nudged me when I stopped talking. “Keep talking and keep moving. Say something. Don’t fall asleep.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I shuffled my feet forwards. A quick laugh shook me.

The impossibly blue sky of Tunis seemed to fall on me, and the palm trees bent towards the ground. The white houses were closing in on me, and the road stretched and contracted in front of me. I had no idea how far we were from the ship, or if it was hot or cold. Sweat trickled down my neck, but goosebumps pebbled my skin. The only thing I was fully aware of was Rennie’s body pressing against mine and the strange pleasure it was giving me.

“Tell me what you did in my room,” he said, a desperate note in his voice.

Another giggle came out of me. “What’s the Royal Occult Bureau? Funnily enough, it sounds familiar.”

He paused, his muscles tensing under his clothes. “You read my contract.”

I tilted my head up towards him. The only clear features on his face were his big emerald eyes burning down at me. The rest was an indistinct blur of harsh lines and masculine features.

“It’s a terrible contract if you ask me. I’m ashamed of what my father made you sign.” Somehow, my hand was on his chest, exploring the hard wall of muscles. “I don’t want you to be flogged because of me.” Giggle. Giggle. Giggle. “But then again, there’s no chance you’ll become romantically interested in me. That’s ridiculous.”

He resumed walking, taking almost all my weight. “Why do you think so?”

“I’m not your type. You don’t like me.” His heart was thumping underneath my palm, a steady pounding that calmed me.

“To start with, I told you I find you pretty.” There was a strained note in his voice as he sped up.

I waved a dismissive hand, resting my head on the crook of his neck. “That’s only my body. You don’t like me , who I am.”

“You’re wrong.” He gathered me in his arms, fully carrying me now. The fact that he was holding me distracted me from his words.

“You’re carrying me,” I said, resting my cheek against his hard chest as I touched his neck. What a strong neck he had. Kissable. Biteable.

“Don’t make yourself too comfortable. I’m going to drop you to your feet as soon as we’re onboard. You need to walk and move.”

The subtle up-and-down movement suggested we were walking along the gangplank. The familiar wood-polish scent of the ship reached me. True to his word, Rennie put me down on the main deck.

“I’ll take you to my cabin, all right? I need to lower your temperature. You’re burning up.” He coiled an arm around my waist and led me down the stairs.

“My temperature?” Now that he mentioned it, heat was bursting out of me. Sweat trickled down my back. The fabric of my shirt chafed my sensitive skin, and my drawers were wet, and not the good kind of wet. “You’re right. I am a bit hot.”

“It’ll be worse in a few minutes unless we take care of it.” He actually gathered me in his arms again and carried me below deck. I sighed. I quite liked being in his arms. He nudged me with his shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep, please, darling.”

Darling? I forced my eyelids up. He was breathing hard, and even his pulse was racing. “Darling,” I muttered. I liked that.

The semidarkness in his cabin was a welcome change from the brightness of the day. He kicked the door shut and then we were alone. Only him, me, and my rising temperature. We shouldn’t be alone in a locked room. But I didn’t really care.

He took my face and angled it, so that we stared into each other’s eyes. “Monia, I’m sorry, but I have to undress you.” His fingers worked on the buttons of my shirt.

“Rennie, what are you doing?” I didn’t have the energy to swat his fingers away and to be honest, I liked how he was unbuttoning my shirt.

“Trying to save your life.” He untied my overskirt and petticoats with speed and efficiency.

The clothes slipped down my body and pooled at my feet until I stood in my chemise and drawers. The moment the cool air hit my clammy skin, I sighed in relief. “Ah, thank you for that. I need it. Sod propriety.”

“Lie here.” Rennie picked me up again and laid me down on his bed. “I’ll be right back.”

“Can I sleep now?” I wiggled my toes; they were burning too.

“No, not yet. I want you to sing until I’m back, all right? Sing, Monia. Sing.”

I chuckled, but it was too hot to keep laughing. The only song I could think of was The Lights o’ London . I didn’t fully remember all the words, so I made them up. My voice echoed in the cabin, and the more I heard it, the more I wanted to laugh and sleep. I was so tired.

“The devil, were you singing? You gave me such a fright!” Rennie was carrying a bucket so big that he staggered on his feet. “It sounded like you were being butchered.”

I closed my eyes. Exhaustion burned through me. “I thought I was all right.”

There were noises as Rennie muttered curses under his breath and fussed around me. A wave of freezing cold caused me to open my eyes again right when I was slipping into unconsciousness. The chill was both a relief and a shock. I gazed down. Ice cubes covered my body. Rennie was placing them with surgical precision on my chest, belly, knees, and wrists.

“Drink this.” He lifted my head gently, holding a vial with a pale-yellow liquid.

“What is it?”

“An antidote of sort.”

The potion didn’t have any remarkable taste. It could be lukewarm water, but the burning heat consuming me diminished a little.

“Better?” he asked, rubbing two ice cubes over my temples. He seemed to ignore the fact that my chemise was soaked and plastered to my breasts, and that with the sudden cold, my nipples were two hard peaks, pointing up at him. But I was too tired to care.

“Better,” I said, letting out a sigh.

My head stopped spinning. As he cooled my temples with the ice cubes, moving them in slow circles, I moaned, squirming a little. He ran an ice cube down my neck and collarbone, and up again. The little devil sneaked down the valley between my breasts. He swallowed hard and retrieved the fleeing ice cube, brushing my wet breasts in the process. With my sensitive skin, the gentle touch intensified, and I let out another moan. There was no mistaking the nature of it. Not pain, but pleasure.

“Don’t move too much.” He brushed a lock of my hair from my face. “The ice will drop your temperature. Stay still.”

“Do it again,” I whispered.

“No, darling, you aren’t well.” He caressed my cheek with the ice cube. Drops of water slid down my neck.

“I want it. Touch me. You have my permission.”

He let out a nervous chuckle. “We’ll discuss that again when you’re well.” He kept stroking my body with the ice cubes, shuffling them around and replacing them when they melted, but he didn’t touch me again, and I was growing weaker.

“Can I sleep now?” I slurred, fighting the heaviness of my eyelids and the funny taste in my mouth.

“Yes, you can.” He caressed my hair and cheeks. “I’ll watch over you.”