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  A pause. She kept her breathing controlled and shallow, though it felt as if he was strangling her.

  “To a submissive, being held down, perhaps bound with ropes, having their hair pulled, and sometimes even having pain inflicted on them by the dominant, can be arousing—greatly arousing.”

  Her eyes were shut. Her thighs were jammed together even though that made her groin seem to simmer with heat down there, right where her clit was. She squirmed a bit on the seat.

  Not answering. Not! But not answering might be telling him more than she wanted to? Didn’t matter. Right now she couldn’t speak without sounding like a choked-up idiot. I’m a university-educated woman with my own mind, and I’m not throwing it all away because I want…I want a man to do things to me.

  Dankyo had been silent a while. The door creaked again as if he shifted position.

  “Let me tell you what I’d do to a submissive, if she’d given me permission to dominate her.”

  Ohhh. Damn him. She sneaked her hand to her crotch and gently circled her clit through the panties. Lust uncurled and spread.

  “Let’s say I found her standing here in front of me. First I’d make her undress for me. Maybe throw the clothes on the floor. When she was naked, I’d turn her around and make her go to the wall. I’d put her so her body was right up against the wall, then kick her legs apart so I could touch her and see her everywhere.”

  Another pause. She’d crept her other hand beneath her top and taken hold of her nipple. Already tingles washed in little waves from her breast to her clit as she rubbed those fingertips around and around the hardening bump.

  “Then I’d jam her right against the wall with a hand on her back.” His voice was rougher.

  Did he know she touched herself? Though she tried to hold them in, her breaths came quicker, harsher. She pushed her groin up into her hand and found the edge of the panties, then slipped her fingers inside. Wetness met her. The glide of her fingers along her cleft, then onto her clit made her release a little moan.

  “I’d slide my hand over her ass and up inside her. Maybe one finger at first.”

  Oh God. She did as he described and pushed a finger inside, then arched at the pleasure. Her walls were tight and hot and spasmed down. Her thumb rubbed her clit.

  “Then two fingers, then three, until she groaned at me to stop. But I wouldn’t. I’d bite her and keep touching her, rougher, harder. I’d make her wriggle and try to escape. But I wouldn’t let her, because she’d be mine.”

  By now she was gasping desperately. Dankyo holding her against that wall. Making her writhe, making her come. Her thumb and fingers rubbed and thrust. From her nipple an electric path blazed and connected. Her body tightened. Her thighs clamped onto her hand.

  “I’d keep at her, and I’d not let her go, until I’d pleasured her, over and over.”

  With a last straining push up inside herself into the messy wetness and a few rhythmic presses on her clit, her body unraveled. Lust roared through and drowned her. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. Gradually the waves of heat ebbed. Her heart pounded. Her mouth gaped as she struggled for enough air for her heaving lungs. Slowly she collapsed down into the chair with her hand still inside her panties.

  How would it be to have Dankyo’s hand in her pussy? She kept her eyes closed and let imagination take her to that time and place where he held her against a wall and did to her what he wanted.

  “Think on it, Sofia.” Then he stepped away from the door. When the outer door opened and closed and his footsteps receded, she was certain—he’d known what she’d been doing.

  Cleaning up and then composing herself took a long while. She found a boring book and sat down to read. When he returned, she stayed silent and didn’t react. Nothing in his manner betrayed what he’d said to her through that closed door.

  She began to think, to hope, she’d been mistaken, because she’d never tell him. If he had a knife at her throat, she would not tell.

  Or would she?

  * * * *

  She didn’t know what to do next.

  Passion waited inside her, just there, and she both dreaded and craved that next jolting step. Why did he not dare? Yet he remained aloof. Sometimes, if she mocked his stern manner too much, he’d dismiss whatever she’d said and then simply step closer, and look at her as if he understood what his proximity did to her. She’d feel like shrinking away, her chest squeezing in. But she’d watch him and make herself look back. And he knew that he bothered her. Satisfaction radiated from him. The bastard.

  On the day they descended to land outside Byzantium, she’d managed to put her strange reactions aside. She had a job to do. Her sexual madness had passed, even though she remembered every tiny detail of what had happened in the bathroom.

  The bow viewing lounge with its three long reinforced windows was crowded with eager passengers. Dankyo had found them a spot at the front and stood behind her, his body up close, his chest pushing at her when he inhaled, and his palms heavy on her shoulders. She’d have protested and stepped away, but there was nowhere to go and no way to do it without seeming strange.

  So instead she breathed in and out with little tight movements, watched the scenery go by, and dug her nails into her skin.

  Scenery, watch the scenery.

  Ahead was the city of Byzantium with the crosses and domes of churches and mosques lacerating the sky, and farther to the right was a slithery silver hint of the Bosporus. Beyond that, just visible on the opposite bank, were some of the taller buildings of the rival Ottoman city. Centuries of off-and-on sieges had left Byzantium with stout metal walls shaping its outskirts, and they shone with gold and silver in the afternoon sun as if they intended to flare into molten incandescence at sundown.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  “Yes. I remember it well.”

  She turned her head. “Remember? You’ve seen Byzantium before?”

  “When I fled from the Greater Asian Monarchy with other refugees, we came here first. Some stayed. I went on to London and the Brito-Gallic League—where I met Theodore.”

  “I see.” She searched his face for emotion but as usual found few clues. “Were you sad to leave here? To leave your friends?”

  He shook his head. “I left no friends. Three died crossing the border in the mountains, but that was long before Byzantium. An avalanche.” He grimaced. “Those I regretted leaving, but none here.”

  A loudspeaker came on. “Time for disembarkation in twenty minutes. Passengers are advised to have their baggage in order.”

  People either side of them moved away, and when only a few were left and Dankyo hadn’t said a word, she made to follow them. He stopped her. His hands tightened on her neck, and he shifted behind her until his lower body pressed into her buttocks.

  “Stay.”

  She stiffened.

  Then he nipped her ear and spoke in a warm, rumbling tenor. His breath carried his words in deep to curl inside her mind and paralyze her with their power.

  “This is Byzantium, where slaves do as their Masters bid them. Where no one will know if you surrender yourself to me. Not your friends; not your family.” As he spoke, he slid one hand down her front, following the curve of her breast, then lower, until the flat of his hand rested on her belly. He pulled her back against him, gentle but sure.

  “Sofia, will you let me take you to the edge and beyond?”

  Poetic words, in their way, and they sent her reeling. She’d held her breath but now had to let it out, shuddering as she did so.

  “Sofia?”

  He hadn’t moved again, but he didn’t need to. He both scared her and electrified her.

  I’ve wanted a man to say this to me my whole life. But not him. Not big, dangerous Dankyo. He breathed quietly behind her. A force of nature waiting for her reply. Yes and no tore around inside her mind until her head seemed made of paper and a storm had caught her up.

  Say no! God, say no. She opened her mouth, still
unsure, closed her eyes, and licked her lips. Say yes. He’s dangerous but that’s precisely why I want him, I want to feel alive while someone does as he wishes to me. I need this. Such a dirty, naughty, terrible want.

  “I…” She shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t know you.” He could do anything. The thrill of that swept her again.

  “Ah. Then think some more.” Then he bit again, on the side of her neck above the collar—a possessing bite, and he didn’t release her as he moved his hand farther until his fingers touched her at the top of her legs. Her clit throbbed to life, and her nether lips swelled.

  “There’re people,” she rasped, eyes shut while she marveled at the tendrils of lust unfurling from where his hand shifted. Thick, luscious heat rolled up her, seeking out her nipples, her neck, connecting her to him, making it impossible not to arch into his hand. He had her in a hard embrace between his teeth and his hand, and he wasn’t letting go. She moaned, then caught herself and stopped, gasping a little. The first peak of impending orgasm spilled through her, rising higher with the press and press of his hand on her pussy.

  He wrapped his arm across under her breasts.

  “There’s no one except one man watching, and to him, you’re a slave. I think you enthrall him. He’s watching you become aroused, watching your body respond. As am I.”

  She let out another gasp and rocked into him.

  Then he stilled and drew back, only supporting her as she panted. She ached so much.

  “There.” He kissed her neck where he’d bitten. “A little of what I would do to you. Think on it. I expect an answer tomorrow. I expect a yes. Do you hear me, Sofia?”

  She didn’t turn to look at him, because she couldn’t bear to. Her body said yes. Her mind whispered the same, surfacing from the places of her dreams to tell her she was mad to resist. Give in. Let him. Find out if you want this.

  But what if he hurts me? The most frightening thing was, she almost wanted him to. She wanted him to do…anything.

  At last she summoned her voice. “I will think.” Then added, shaking a little, “I may not say yes.”

  “You will.” He ran his hand up into her hair and tugged. “You will, because now I know that you want this. If you’d said a straight no, I would still have wondered, but saying, maybe”—he dragged her head back until she blinked up into his eyes—“maybe means yes. You’re afraid?”

  His brown eyes dissected down to her soul. Though her throat had seized up, she squeezed out the words. “Yes. I am.”

  Then he smiled. “Tomorrow, then, I will have your answer.”

  The world shrank in and waited. He still gripped her hair and gave it a small jiggle as if to make more words spill out. She stood there, head tilted back, drowning, lost in the sea of helplessness that washed over her. He was right. She would say yes, because really, that was all she could do.

  Chapter Five

  Everything had changed. By showing his intent, Dankyo had jumped from possibly dangerous to being a man she didn’t want to turn her back on. Yes, he made her quiver. Yes, she wanted to see what he would do to her, desperately. But away from his physical control she knew, plain knew, this was bad for her.

  I have a mind, but he’s only seeing me as a conquest. I don’t want that. Grow a spine.

  So she subtly dodged around him when they gathered belongings, then departed the airship. Most of the other passengers had found transport and were driving away already. An articulated red bus with the logo of a hotel emblazoned on the side was one of the last vehicles to go. SEE THE HAGIA. TOUR THE BAZAAR, was written on the side. The walls of Byzantium looked to be at least two miles away. The shadows were long; the day was drawing to a close.

  “Sir! Sir!” A bearded youth clutching the reins of a string of horses and mules beckoned to them and two businessmen in bowler hats and black suits. “Top quality mounts!”

  “We’ve missed the taxis and buses.” Feet planted as if he expected an earthquake at any minute, Dankyo motioned Sofia forward.

  A horse? “I can’t ride.” The nearest one had big teeth. To her relief, the businessmen hustled forward and claimed the horses first.

  As he strapped luggage onto his mules, the youth signaled and grinned to Dankyo. “Don’t worry! I will return in an hour!”

  “An hour?” Dankyo glanced at her. “Perhaps I should have resisted your charms.”

  She couldn’t stop herself. After how Dankyo’d handled her back there on the airship, she had to show she wasn’t a wilting flower. “So now we wait in the dark because you couldn’t control your urges.”

  He drew a pair of black leather gloves from his coat pocket and pulled them on, settling each finger in place, then took out binoculars and sighted through them toward the city. “Hmm. Haste makes good targets.” He clicked the large central wheel of the binoculars as if focusing. “Sofia, I see you have revived. I thought you were afraid of me?”

  He dropped the binoculars in his pocket and stepped closer to her.

  The question brought their recent dalliance in the ship back fresh to her mind. “I’m not. That was an aberration.” She held her ground, seething a little, shrinking a little, trying not to drop her gaze. Meeting his eyes was getting harder.

  “No? You’ve already given me power over you while we are in Byzantium.”

  “Only in public. And only so that I can do my job.”

  “What are you afraid of then? Kneel.” He gave her the palm-down signal.

  If her eyes hadn’t flared red-hot, they should have. Damn him. She wouldn’t do this just to please him. “Learn to trust me.” He smiled. “There’s a limousine coming.”

  Past his shoulder, she glimpsed the oncoming dust cloud and the glint of gold metal. He signaled to her again as it rolled closer. She sank to her knees.

  “Better.” Casually, he patted her head. When she glared back beneath her eyebrows, he shook his head. “Angry? You know, I like seeing that. Angry means you haven’t given in.” He fished inside his coat. “Giving in means you have no fire. Fire to me says passion. And passion, now that is—”

  Two vehicles approached. The first was a pale blue half-track truck with MAINTENANCE written in Greek along the side. The doors slammed open. Five large men in overalls spilled out. Carrying clinking packs, they ambled to the ramp, exchanging crude jokes in Ottoman. Curiosity spiked, and she observed them out the corners of her eyes. This was the first time she’d heard the language spoken outside the university.

  Next, the limousine pulled up beside the truck—a long gold-and-white vehicle with four steam funnels curling off the back like misplaced horns. Each window bore a frosted-glass logo—an engraving of a saint’s head with a halo. The driver’s door opened, and a gray-clad chauffeur stepped out and smoothly swung out the passenger door.

  “Sir? Dankyo of House Kevonis? Emperor-Bey Constantin XXV sends his regards and summons you to court.”

  “Thank you.” Dankyo nodded to him. Then he turned to Sofia and let a silver chain unfurl, clinking, from his hand. The clip at the end opened at the press of his thumb. “Present your neck.”

  Her stomach dropped. No. He didn’t mean this. But he clearly did and merely waited quietly. Bastard. She leaned forward and extended her neck. The snick as the chain clicked shut and the jingle of the chain affirmed he’d leashed her.

  “Come, Sofia. Crawl to the car.”

  Calm. You can do this. Why, though, why is he doing this to me? It seemed unnecessary, humiliating, and silly.

  Two yards and an eternity of wondering if they were staring at her butt, while going ouch at the rocks poking her knees, and then she climbed into the dark interior of the limousine. Floor or seat? Reluctantly she chose to be careful and knelt on the floor.

  “Well done.” Dankyo settled onto the cream leather seat.

  With a subtle tap of his hat, the driver saluted. “Sir. The passenger section is private and soundproof. If you need to speak to me, the speakerphone is there. I’ll go load your cases.” He shut t
he door, busied himself at the trunk, then slipped behind the wheel.

  A memory flicked across her thoughts. Something about the maintenance men irked her, but then the thought zipped away. Things like that had a habit of annoying her again. Her subconscious never played fair, but the thought would come to her if she waited.

  As they drove over rocks, the tires crackled before falling quiet on the asphalt. Dankyo put his hand on her head and left it there a moment.

  As a hint, she eyed the seat and the blue velvet cushions, then raised her eyebrows.

  “You know”—he leaned in to whisper to her—“you’re asking permission. That is good. Now show me some fire again.”

  He was telling her to get angry? Could the driver hear if she shouted? Almost ready to burst out with a swear word, she sucked on her bottom lip instead.

  “I see the cat has got your tongue. Come, sit beside me. Let’s talk. Whisper in my ear.”

  Sedately, she sat next to him. A thick glass divider separated them from the front. Outside the window, green trees whizzed past.

  Talk? Boy, did she have something to say to him. “Why did you make me crawl?”

  He said nothing.

  “You have to answer this. Can’t you see that I need to know? Okay, so I have to obey you in public, but I’ve agreed to nothing else. You did it to get me unhappy with you?” Now she’d started, her thoughts ran onto her tongue without anything filtering between them. She was angry. “What do you mean, fire and passion? If you get me deliberately angry and I do something wrong in public, that’s not just my fault, it’s yours too! Where’s all this we must be careful or others will get hurt?” She stopped, panting, finally out of words, yet still brimming with confusion. “Why?” She slumped back on the seat.

  Dankyo had turned to face her properly, and though he’d still said nothing, a small line creased his forehead. Slowly, he exhaled through his nose. “You’re right.”