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“Eleven minutes,” I said, glancing at the clock when Alan entered the captain’s cabin.
“It would have been sooner, but one of the boilers had a sticky valve. What have you struck off the list? Is it something I’m going to regret greatly, or was it more moderate pleasures, like you staring at me while I stand naked?” Alan asked, stopping in the middle of the cabin, slowly removing his weapons before pulling off his clothes and laying them neatly folded on top of a chest that sat at the foot of the bed.
I’d been reclined against the headboard, holding his pillow and enjoying the scent of Alan that clung to it, but now I sat up, the better to watch him perform what was an amazing striptease.
“A couple of them involved looking at you, but there was one erotic massage, and two uses of my knuckles on your sensitive spots.”
He looked thoughtful. “Damn. I do like your two-knuckle move.”
“Evidently there’s another way to stimulate the same area, but I’ve never been able to bring
myself—”
“No,” he said quickly, giving me what I was coming to think of as the Akbar Scowl. “I would not care for that.”
“Good, because it’s not really something I’m interested in, either. I’m fine with just molesting those bits of you that are handy. Speaking of which, I have several other items on my list that didn’t get scratched off. Ones involving much application of my flesh to your flesh. Oh, yes, please turn around. Hoochiwawa, Alan. Your behind has gotten even more fabulous in the week we were parted.” Alan flexed his butt muscles, sending a ripple of pure heat from my chest upward. “I just want to make sure you’re OK before we dive fully into wedding-night fun.”
He paused in the act of splashing some water on his face and chest, looking over his shoulder to me. “You wish to make sure I’m all right? In what sense? In that I want you with a passion that makes it difficult to walk? Or that I want to touch and taste you, plunging into your depths until you writhe beneath me with my name on your lips?”
“Yes, please, to all of that,” I said, watching his ass flex as he moved. “I meant I wanted to make sure that you’re OK with William forcing you to go after your dad. That has to be a hard idea to swallow.”
“It’s not what I would have chosen to do with my time,” he said, giving himself a quick wash at the basin, no doubt to rid himself of the residue of the fight with William’s men. I toyed with the suggestion that we have a bath together, but baths in this world take time to set up and fill, and the desire that prickled along my flesh wasn’t going to wait for any of that. “But I can see that it’s inevitable. My father’s plans have gone well beyond what they once were, to the point of threatening all the citizens of Europe. He will not balk at killing anyone who stands in his way, and since I am loath to have my inactivity responsible for genocide, I must do what I can to stop him before he can do more damage.”
“I’m just sad it’s come to this. I want you to know that I will help you however I can. And also, that I will be here when you want to vent about your dad, and being the only one who can make him stop, and when you just need to be held because the world can be a big pain in the butt sometimes.”
“Your help, and support, and particularly you holding me, is much appreciated,” he said.
“While I’m on the subject of butts, can I add that I really want to take your behind in my hands again, Alan. I want to touch the thick muscles of it that curve so delightfully. I even want to bite it, and I’ve never wanted to bite a man’s behind before.”
He froze for a few seconds, then flung down the towel he had been using to wipe his face and chest, and was suddenly there on the bed, flipping me over onto my belly, his hands hot on my back and thighs as he bent over me. “You may say that, but I will go first.”
“Hey! No fair! I’m the one who came up with the idea ... oh, lord, Alan! You’re biting me!”
His tongue made a warm swirl on the spot on my left butt cheek that he’d bitten, taking the sting from it, and sending streaks of heat pooling deep into my hidden depths. “It was just too much for me to resist. Are you up to a wedding night, my dove? I don’t wish to tire you if you would rather—”
I bucked and twisted until I got to my knees, and pushed him over backward, his head narrowly missing hitting the chest at the end of the bed. “Don’t you even think about denying me a wedding night, new husband. I said I had a list, and I fully intend to work through at least a half dozen of the items on it.”
“I might have my own list,” he said, his hands warm on my breasts, his fingers working their usual magic in making my flesh feel hot and heavy and so very needy. I let my breasts have a little time with his hands, but moved back when he tried to pull me over his mouth.
“Oh, no you don’t. I’ve decided that I get to do all the things I want to do to you before you make me go mindless with pleasure. It’s only fair. I’m a bride. Brides get to do things to their new husbands, and I decree that you can’t touch me until I say you can.”
“That doesn’t sound very fun,” he said, his hands sliding down the curve of my hip before he pulled me forward, his mouth capturing one nipple for a second, making me moan with pleasure.
“No!” I said sternly, and with an effort pulled myself back from the delightful heat of his mouth. “I am the master of my breasts, buster! They do not get to dictate to me when they want to be in your mouth and hands, and pressed up against your body, rubbing their little hussy selves against your chest hair in that way that makes me feel like my whole front is on fire, smooshing themselves against all the hard muscle you have there. ...” I stopped, my brain overflowing with need for a few minutes.
“Each and every item you just listed sounds like a most excellent suggestion to me. I suggest we start with your breasts in my mouth, and then we can proceed to the others,” Alan said, reaching for me again.
“Bad husband!” I scolded, sliding off the bed. My breasts were unhappy with me, but I promised them much joy to come.
“I am not! I am the very best of husbands, and will prove it to you if you just bring your breasts and hips and that delicious ass back over here so that I may defy such obvious slander. What are you doing, wife?”
He had rolled onto his side to see what I was doing in one of the small chests that had been his sister’s. “You’re getting dressed? Now? Now is the time for bare flesh, Hallie. Now is the time when you allow me to fulfill all those fantasies I have about you.”
“I’m not getting clothes, but I am getting these,” I said, holding up the long scarves I’d had made for me in Tozeur. “I had planned to make a lay of my own with them, because they’re prettier than just the white cloth in the ones I’ve been borrowing, but I think I have a better use for them.” I knelt on the edge of the bed, first eyeing the solid headboard, then the trunk at the end of the bed. The trunk top had two brass rings where leather straps could be attached, keeping it closed while it was being transported.
Alan frowned at the scarves. “I have a feeling that you intend on using those in a manner that I will not at all like.”
“Oh, you’ll like it,” I promised, tying one of the scarves around his wrist, making sure it wasn’t too tight, but sturdy enough for my purposes. I quickly repeated the process with the other one before threading the scarves through the rings on the trunk. “You may not think you will, but I’m confident you will, and I promise that if you don’t like it, I will stop.”
“I’ve told you that I don’t care to be dominated in bed,” he told me, his frown deepening when he tested first one arm, than the other. I didn’t pull his arms straight up, but gave him enough slack so that his hands were around his ears. “If you continue, I’m afraid you will discover that this has the opposite effect you hope for.”
“I’ll take that chance. Now.” I sat back on my heels, rubbing in my hands the little bottle of orange oil that I had found in the bottom of the chest. Before me, Alan lay splayed, every gorgeous masculine inch of him. His eyes watched me carefully as I allowed my gaze to caress him. “You really are fabulous, everything from your nice feet on up your calves, which aren’t scrawny like so many men’s are, upwards to your thighs. Alan, your thighs—I feel like I should sing songs of praise to them. Just look at them.”
Obligingly, he lifted his head and looked down at himself. “I spend a lot of time in the saddle.”
“And for that, I’m thankful, although if you could maintain those thighs without horses, I’d be even happier. And then there’s your belly. We’ve addressed it, I believe, as well as your chest, which brings new meaning to the word ‘magnificent.’ And your arms are so nice without being too bulky. Your arms make me feel very feminine. It’s the strong forearms and the biceps, I believe.”
“Just so you know,” Alan warned, giving the scarves an experimental pull. They held his hands in place. “When you are finished, I will be taking my turn to catalog and torment and tease you within an inch of your sanity, just as you are doing me.”
“Deal,” I said, smiling. “Now, let’s see where this orange oil should be applied. Just here, do you think?”
“Oh, lord, yes, right there.” His hips bucked upward when I poured a little oil into my palms before sweeping up the long length of his very erect penis, making sure to include his balls. The lid on the trunk creaked when he tried to reach me, but I simply moved over so that I was straddling one of his thighs, my hands full of private parts.
“You are so very warm, Alan. Hot, even, and hard as steel, yet soft as velvet. Are you ready for a little tongue action?”
He moaned something in Kazakh, his biceps straining when he tried to pull his hands free.
“Good. Let’s start here.” I touched my tongue to the very base of his penis, tasting the orange oil. It wasn’t sweet, but wasn’t bitter, either. I decided I didn’t mind it and, with a wicked smile that had Alan’s eyes widening, made one long sweeping lick from the base to the very tip of him, making the muscles in his belly contract, his hips move, and his thighs tighten. “That was a pretty impressive reaction, but I think we can do better,” I told him, eyeing the scarves when he tried again to get free. They held, so I dipped my head, and took him into my mouth, trying to remember what sorts of things men enjoyed. I swirled my tongue, I applied light suction, and I rubbed sensitive spots, enjoying the nonstop moans that Alan made, along with the hip thrusts that he seemed unable to keep from making.
“Oh, what the hell,” I said, giving the sensitive underside a swipe of my tongue. “I can’t punish you when you were just doing your job. Let’s try the two knuckles again, shall we?”
“If you have any mercy in your soul, and at this point I doubt that you do, because your torment is almost more than a mere mortal man can survive, you’ll stop torturing me and impale yourself on me,” Alan demanded, his voice rough with passion, and his eyes blazing a blue light at me.
I smiled. “Two knuckles?” I asked, not wanting to push him past what was pleasurable.
He panted at me, his big chest heaving. I had planned on teasing his nipples, but I figured they could wait until I was done at his groin. “You are the cruelest woman I know! You delight in this torture, don’t you? Well, I will not stand for it! Release my hands, woman. You must be punished for these acts of heinous sexual suffering!”
I waggled my knuckles at him in question.
“Yes, fine, after the two knuckles,” he snarled, looking aroused and disgruntled at the same time.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to release your hands,” I said, rubbing the backs of my fingers along his testicles, making sure they were slippery with the orange oil. “I’m enjoying being able to touch you in all the ways I want without being distracted by your hands and mouth and chest and arms and, oh dear lord, your ass. I get to oil up your ass next, but first, it’s knuckle time! Let’s see, where was that magic spot ... here?”
I pressed gently along the part of him that I knew could bring him pleasure, while at the same time sliding my hand along his well-oiled length, my thumb making an extra swirl at the tip of him. “Not there,” he gasped, his hands clutching the scarves, which were stretched taut.
“No? Here?” I slid my knuckles a tiny bit, gently pressing and making small circles.
“No. Dear lord, no. That’s very good, but it’s not the exact spot.” His breath was ragged and every bit as rough as his voice.
“Right. This must be it. ...” I shifted my hand a half inch, leaning down to take the tip of him into my mouth again as I applied a little pressure with my knuckles.
He shot up off the bed. Just shot straight up until he was standing up staring down at me wildly for a moment, the scarves dangling from his wrists. “That, madame wife, was the spot. And now, it’s time to pay for your torment!”
“Oh, shit,” I said, startled for a moment, then giggled when Alan dived onto me, the orange-oil bottle upended on my belly, his hands rubbing it all over me, into my breasts, down into my girl parts, and along my hips. He was soon just as covered with it as he rubbed himself on me, his hands and mouth everywhere, lighting my soul on fire with his caresses. I writhed and squirmed and moaned, my entire body an erogenous zone, and when he finally felt he’d paid me back for my fun with his body, he plunged into me, his movements hard and fast, the intrusion of him making not just my body hum, but every iota of my being sing.
What seemed like hours later, I attempted to put into words the feelings that he stirred in me. “You are ... you are ...” I couldn’t seem to catch my breath enough to actually speak. I looked over to where he lay on his back, so wonderfully male, and yet with a caring and gentle heart.
“Magnificent at lovemaking?” he asked, his eyes closed, and his chest heaving. “The master of all sexual pleasures?”
“All that, and so much more.” I rolled over until I was propped up on him, leaning down to kiss his orange-flavored lips. “I love you, prince of sexual pleasure. Promise me that you won’t do anything foolish.”
He opened his eyes at that, his hands moving around to pull me up tighter to him. “It’s not my intention to leave you a widow, little dove.”
“I know it isn’t, but I just want you to remember that when your father does something to enrage you, which I know he will. So long as I have to stay in this world, I don’t intend on doing so without you.”
His eyes narrowed. “In this world?”
“If I told you that Jack and I came from another world, different from this one, would you think I was crazy?”
“No,” he said slowly, sounding thoughtful. “I’d say it wasn’t very likely, but ...”
“But?” I prodded, not wanting to go into a detailed explanation of how we got there.
“But it does explain why you have such a difficult time accepting certain aspects of society.” He studied me for a minute. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
I thought about that, then shook my head, gently biting his shoulder. “No. It honestly doesn’t matter how we got here. Once, I had wanted to go home so badly that I was ready to die for it, but now I can’t think of anywhere else I want to be than sharing my life with you, and our possible miracle. Does that make you feel weird?”
“It makes me feel blessed on many levels,” he said, sliding a hand between us to caress my belly. “Do not fear for me, Hallie. I’m not about to do anything foolish when I know I have you and your knuckles to return to.”
I smiled into his collarbone, and relaxed into him, sated, loved and in love, and so happy I felt like bursting into a Disney song.
Four days later, I learned why Alan was famed as one of the most respected warlords in Europe: it wasn’t because he was brutal like his father, but because he was just the opposite—although he defended himself and his company when needed, he seldom used lethal force when attacking a target, preferring instead to find alternate ways to achieve his goals.
Which was why, instead of using brute force to try to beat the crap out of his father, we walked into a church in Pest, Hungary, and met with the last person on earth I ever thought Alan would agree to see: Etienne Briel.
“Etienne,” he said, his voice diplomatically neutral even though I had previously sat through an approximately half-hour-long lecture of how I was not, under any circumstances, to leave his side even for the direst of situations.
Etienne’s eyes narrowed at Alan, who was in his pretty armor, gold Moghul wear, and dashing turban, the tail of which hung down over his shoulder. I could see the moment when Etienne correlated Alan’s elegant voice with the body of Akbar. His eyebrows shot up, and he swore under his breath before giving me a swift glare and Alan a curt nod. “I see there is more depth to you than I previously imagined. I will not underestimate you again, Akbar. Or do you prefer Alan Dubain?”
“The latter is fine,” Alan said mildly. To my right, Zand stood silent, one hand on the hilt of his sword, while on Alan’s left, Az lurked in a generally menacing manner. “We would like to discuss with you the arrangement you have with the imperator.”
Etienne smiled an unpleasant smile, the four men behind him smirking along with him. I wished I had convinced Alan to allow me to bring my bow, but he insisted that it would not leave Etienne in a mood conducive to negotiation.
“You wish to make your own agreement with the Black Hand?” he asked, much to my surprise. I’d figured Alan would have to do a lot of fast talking to get him to agree to work with us. He made a gesture that was part bow. “By all means, let me hear it.”
“You seek to take control of Prussia from William,” Alan said, his voice now smooth as silk. I realized that was the tone he used when stretching his diplomatic muscles.
Etienne rolled his eyes. “I would have thought that was fairly obvious to you when you and that treacherous Octavia were members of the Black Hand.”
Alan inclined his head in acknowledgment. “What I don’t understand is why you look to the imperator to make that happen.”
“What is the point of this?” Etienne asked, suddenly suspicious. “Do you seek to make me question your father’s intentions? We have an agreement.”
“An agreement that he will disregard as soon as he gains what he wants, just as he’s disregarded every other agreement that did not fit in with his plans. You look skeptical, Etienne, but surely you, with your network of spies, must know that the imperator has had many treaties in place that he has ignored once he had what he wanted. Do you think he claimed control of Turkey, Greece, and Italy because their rulers were weak? Iago could have called William—and did when he finally wanted the Moghuls out of Italy—while the king of Greece spent thirty years in exile before he finally ousted my father. Turkey is still under the imperator’s control, while the former king and his family are buried under the palace floors.”
I looked at Alan in surprise. His voice was now flinty.
Etienne looked skeptical, but Alan was at his most persuasive, and it would have taken a stronger man than him to resist. “How does this matter to me?”
“The imperator intends on marrying Constanza. You realize what that will mean, don’t you?”
“He wishes to replace the son he says abandoned him,” Etienne snapped, but I heard a thread of concern in his voice.
Alan’s eyebrow rose. “And the coincidence that marriage to the duchess will give him a claim to Prussia, easing his way into Western Europe, means nothing?”
“Our agreement is for me to take Prussia once we have William’s forces out of the country—”
“And just how do you expect to claim Prussia when the imperator allows William to defeat you and the Black Hand?”
Etienne smirked. “That won’t happen. Not with the imperator’s forces behind us. This is my chance to remove the empire once and for all.”
“Oh?” Alan cocked an eyebrow. “And are there Moghuls in Prussia now, ready to help you? William is on his way to clear out the Black Hand, and given that you’ve fought against him for more than ten years without defeating him, I don’t see that you will do so with only your mad bunch of revolutionaries at hand.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Etienne sneered.
“No? During much of the past ten years, I supported you, doing my part to bring down an empire that I no more think should hold Prussia than you do, and yet now you believe that you can simply take it from William?”
“Your father’s forces—” he started to say, his brow furrowed.
“Are in Buda, where they will stay.”
“We have an agreement!” Etienne shouted, his face red. “Your father signed it.”
“And it’s worth only the paper it’s on,” Alan said, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m sure the imperator will have some sort of an excuse why he cannot send troops to aid you with the coming battle in Posen, but if you are willing to believe that, then we have little to discuss. William is on his way; once he has wiped out the Black Hand in Prussia, he will turn his attention to Hungary. I will not see my men caught in the middle of what is sure to be a bloodbath. Come, Hallie.”
He put his hand on my back, turning me and taking three steps before Etienne stopped us. “How do I know you are speaking the truth? You could be trying to sow dissent between your father and me. Or are you working for William?”
Alan looked back at Etienne. “Do you honestly think that’s likely? He has a bounty on Octavia’s head. My loyalties lie with her Company of Thieves, not with the empire that I have worked so hard to break.”
Etienne made an annoyed gesture. “What do you gain by turning me against your fath—” He stopped, his eyes widening. “Ah, I begin to see. You wish to be imperator in his place.”
Alan said nothing, just looked at him.
“I have to give it to Alan,” I whispered to Zand, who was now slightly behind where Alan stood facing Etienne. “He’s a damned good bluffer. Remind me never to play poker with him.”
“He’ll take you for everything you’re worth,” Zand said with a wry twist to his lips. “I’m lucky that in the past he’s felt guilty of bankrupting me and returned my property.”
Etienne eyed Alan for a few minutes before saying, “Very well, I will hear your proposal.”
“It is quite simple. Marry Constanza yourself,” Alan said, taking me by surprise.
I had a moment of appreciation for just how devious his mind was. If Etienne married the duchess, that took her out of his father’s grasp, and eliminated his potential claim on Prussia. It left Etienne to be dealt with later, but William himself said the revolutionaries were of secondary importance.
Etienne was silent for a moment, clearly thinking about that. “And if I do so, what will you ask of me?”
“Withdraw your forces in the Hungarian empire,” Alan answered. “The people are not pleased with the imperator, and he does not have the strength of numbers to keep Turkey under his domain and deal with insurrection in Hungary and Austria. If the Black Hand is removed from those regions, the people will revolt and overthrow the scant forces the imperator left.”
“Ah, that is how you are thinking,” Etienne said slowly, his voice filled with pleasure. “It is true that without my members, control would slip through your father’s fingers. If I do as you ask, and you claim your father’s throne, you must cede to me the Hungarian empire.”
Alan inclined his head. “I have no desire to rule it.”
“Oh? You are not very like your father.” Suspicion was once again evident in Etienne’s voice.
“No, I am not. I am newly wed, and my wife is in a delicate condition. I have fought for the Moghul empire my entire life. I am not getting younger, and wish to enjoy the time that remains me in the company of my wife and what children we are blessed with. The days of Akbar are in the past.”
Etienne’s gaze slipped toward me. “I will need a guarantee that I can trust you. Your woman—”
“My wife is not an object to be passed around,” Alan snapped, his voice now filled with anger. “Nor do I offer a guarantee for my behavior. I am not my father. When I give my word, I keep it. Either you will recognize that, or we are through here.”
I expected the volatile Etienne to get his knickers in a twist over that, but to my surprise, he shrugged. “Your reputation is not tarnished with betrayal, as is your father’s. Very well. I will wed Constanza, and you will remove your father from power, following which you will recall Moghul troops, what remain of them, from the Hungarian empire. Do we have an accord?”
“We do,” Alan said, and the two men shook hands.
Without another word, he put his hand on my back and escorted me from the church, Zand and Az falling in behind us.
“Hoo,” I said on a long breath when we trotted down the stairs to the street, feeling the strain of having not wanted to speak lest I mess up Alan’s delicate maneuvering. It was worth it to watch a master in action. “That was intense. Do you think he’ll do what he said he’ll do?”
“Remove his men from Hungary and Austria? Absolutely not. His hunger for power has increased just as the imperator’s has, but he will instruct his people to no longer act as a police force for the Moghuls, which is what will save them in the end.”
“I don’t quite see how,” I said, taking his hand, relishing the feeling of his fingers as they twined around mine.
“The Black Hand is not as feared as the imperator. It is that fear that keeps them in check. Once the threat of the imperator’s destruction of the populace is removed, the people will fight for their freedom, and Etienne will find himself facing a war on two fronts. He is obsessed with Prussia. He’ll choose it over the Hungarian empire.”
“That is some pretty devious thinking right there,” I said, proud of him. “So what’s our next move?”
“We will have to find a way to remove the imperator from the throne. I will admit that I’m at a loss as to how to do that without killing him outright. If I could find some way to spirit him out of the palace ...” He shook his head. “But I don’t see how without using force. I would prefer to do this without bloodshed. Enough lives have been given in my father’s name; I don’t want any more added to that.”
We got into a carriage drawn by two horses, heading toward the outer edges of the city where we had left the Nightwing. Across the Danube River, the town of Buda sat, and in the middle of it, like a great spider, the imperator lurked, spinning his web of deceit.
He was no match for Alan, though, and remembering something Jack had told me, I smiled, taking Alan’s hand and rubbing his knuckles against my cheek.
He glanced toward me, his eyes a brilliant deep blue, like the deepest pool of water, so pure I felt like I could dive into them.
“I think, my dashing no-longer-Moghul-prince, I have a solution to your problem. We’re going to have to talk to Jack and Octavia, but I think ... yes, I think it’s exactly what you need.”
He gave me another one of his unreadable looks, but I sat back, pleased with the fact that, at last, I had a place in this world. I had a reason for getting up in the morning, and a part in bettering the world. Life was pretty damned awesome.
Assuming we could work a miracle or two.
I patted my stomach, and explained to Alan my plan.
