Stunned, slightly, at his endearment, she ordered a Cointreau. “Avec eau gazeuse, s’il vous plaît.” Exeter brushed his index finger along the inside of her wrist. “Can you describe what it was you saw, or thought you saw, through the train window as we approached Dover this morning?”
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 Le Train Bleu, a luxury French night express train that traveled from Calais to Paris and on to the French Riviera. If there were no delays, they would arrive in Paris before dawn.
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 great hiss, or growl. Instead, she whimpered softly, barely able to hold the thermometer between her lips. My God, my God—Mon Dieu, mon Dieu!
Three minutes. Mon panthère. Exeter answered.
She understood his words, yet she was quite sure he hadn’t spoken. Mia’s heart raced at the thought. She was aware of his thoughts. She was also aware of those skillful fingers coaxing out more pleasure, making her belly tremble and her hips thrust. Exeter looked as though he might eat her alive, just as soon as he got his temperature reading.
“Two minutes.” A slick finger probed deeper. He stood beside her and seduced with every touch. “Come for me, Mia.” His hands stroked and then teased, deepening the intensity of her arousal. Exquisite pleasure danced along the edge of her climax. His finger delved deeper and then pulled out—playing with the ring of muscle at her opening—all the while his thumb circled her clitoris. N’arrêtez pas! Her thoughts warned him not to stop, as he brought her arousal to yet another level of intensity.
Less than a minute. Engulfed in pleasure and barely aware of the world, she thought she saw the expression on his face move from joyful to aroused lover as he witnessed her surrender. He massaged lightly through the bucking and shuddering of her climax.
As her thoughts gradually returned to the world, she opened her eyes. “She obeyed, Exeter.” Reverently, he leaned over and kissed a latent belly quiver.
Righting himself, he tugged on the thermometer. “Let go, Mia.” She had not realized how tightly she clenched the glass tube in her mouth. She relaxed her lips and he removed the instrument, squinting at the glass tube. “One hundred point four. Nearly two full points.”
She wondered if she should tell him about the telepathy. Was it mutual? He had seemed to comply earlier with her rather emphatic order not to stop. But, if this ability was mutual, he wasn’t saying anything either.
“Was that really about my temperature?” Her voice was husky, dry.
Exeter stared at her. She returned his stare—in fact, she squinted. She was hoping to hear his thoughts—find out if there were hidden motives. Nothing.
“Even as your lips quivered and your belly trembled, you remained in control and held her back.”
She thought he looked slightly amused. “I’m going to get you back for this, Exeter.”
His eyes lowered to her corset. “I very much hope so.” She glanced down and noted rosy tips peeking over the lacy edge of her camisole. She swallowed. It was suddenly so obvious; he wasn’t done yet. He dipped his head and ran his tongue over the mound of one breast—then the other.
The small hairs on her neck and arms stood on end—the whistle of the wind outside the compartment windows grew louder—until the wind whooshed and snapped against the side of the railcar. Two intense green lights beamed through the glass and moved through the small room. Whatever it was searched the compartment methodically.
Exeter.
Without a word, he reached up and untied her bindings. Find Jersey and Valentine. Stay with them—do not come after me.
The beams of light moved over scattered garments, stopping momentarily on the open medical bag. Exeter slipped over to the window and turned the latch. A blast of chill night air rushed into the compartment as he lowered the window—papers and clothing fluttered about the small space. He pulled himself through an open section of window.
Mia crouched between the berths and followed the dual shafts of light as they searched in vain. Exeter was gone.
Chapter Nine
EXETER DROPPED DOWN ONTO HIS HAUNCHES and let the bracing cold air revive his sensory faculties. Wispy tendrils under the apparition’s shredded cloak appeared first, then dual beams of green light. He traced the rays under the hood to orbs hidden under the shrouded head. His powers sensed cameras capable of transmitting images, not unlike the holograms Tim Noggy received from his brother.
The swath of light found him soon enough. It seemed to Exeter the staring contest went on interminably. He rose to his full height, only to be struck down by a wave of potent energy—a force that traveled within the energy field of the light rays.
The pair of beams swung back and forth, searching for others. Exeter studied the ephemeral creature. An automaton, of sorts. And very large. Exeter was nearly two inches over six feet, and this creature towered over him. He reached deep and drew in enough potent energy to stop a charging rhinoceros.
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