Miss Minnie and the Brass Pluggit (7 page)

His tomato plants didn’t care about scars, and the soft light in the greenhouse was adequate for his horticultural work, simple as it was. A nip here, a pinch there and the trickle of liquid from his watering can.

It was delightful tranquility, a place to breathe freely, and Dusk couldn’t begin to find words to thank whatever deity had landed him where he was. Tucked away in the Brass Pluggit. Which had to be some sort of country joke, but nobody had ever explained it, since the name seemed to have no origin that anyone knew of.

Another of those charming rural mysteries, thought Dusk, as he nipped off an unnecessary yellow flower.

Above him, the lighthouse soared skyward, the protruding ring marking the living area. Now the moon had risen enough to reflect from the many shining surfaces within, giving it the soft glow of starlight. There was still a little while before the light automatically turned on—this was the time when it was surreally beautiful rather than functional.

To his surprise, he could make out two figures, silhouetted for a moment by a stray beam of light. He should have been more surprised when the figures merged into one.

He wasn’t. It didn’t take a brilliant scientist to see the attraction leaping to life between Pierce and Miss Minnie.

Respectfully, Dusk turned away. He didn’t blame Pierce one bit. Miss Minnie was a stunning woman and he’d felt her attraction when they’d bumped into each other. Had she encouraged him at all, she’d be naked and screaming out
his
name right this moment.

Dusk wasn’t a big believer in slow seduction. He preferred to get right down to it. And in spite of his scars, he’d been lucky enough to find one or two women who felt the same way. But they weren’t exactly thick on the ground.

Miss Minnie would be one, he knew. She was more than just beautiful, she was smart. And a lady through and through. Titles didn’t make the woman, in Dusk’s opinion. It was something more fundamental. Something innate. And that something had put a gentle expression in her eyes when she’d first seen him.

That
was a lady.

So he could understand his master’s interest and wished him well with his amorous endeavors. Living in quarters that were on ground level and only accessed through the greenhouse, Dusk didn’t worry about being disturbed by any screams of pleasure that might float out on the night air.

He brushed some dirt from his hands and rinsed them in the water barrel near the doorway to the greenhouse, drying them on a cloth he kept there for that purpose. “Well, my lovelies. Rest up. Should be more sunshine tomorrow, although there’s a whisper of rain on the wind. That’ll keep our barrel full.”

He picked up his mask and smiled at his own absurdity. His nightly farewell to his green troops amused him, but he made sure he spoke the same words in spite of it.

There was comfort in the ritual. A reinforced sense of belonging, a deepened commitment to this time and this place. Dusk shook his head at his whimsical train of thought and turned off the lights.

Chapter Four

Minnie tossed restlessly in the bed, turning from one side to the other, stretching her legs then bending her knees…there seemed to be no comfortable spot where she could find peace.

It had nothing to do with the sheets, or the fact she was alone in a different place. Neither of those things bothered her, since she was a seasoned traveler with the ability to sleep most anywhere.

Nor was it the moonlight coming in through the small window. The guestrooms were below the living area and much more square in shape, probably in order to allow visitors a sense of normalcy at night. The decor was appropriate, the accommodations quite comfortable.

It wasn’t her surroundings that were keeping her awake.

It was the thought of her host.

She had moved willingly into his embrace, wanting his kiss so desperately that the word yearning could have been applied to her emotions at that moment.

The reality of the touch of his lips—well, it had exploded into her with all the force of a volcano erupting into chaos.

He’d barely brushed her mouth at first, then it had happened. He’d groaned, she’d gasped, and they were locked together, teeth clashing, mouths sucking and devouring as their tongues dueled and learned and tasted…

Her body ached, her breasts became tender and swollen and she could feel the moisture flowering at the junction of her thighs.

She would have stripped naked and taken him inside her without hesitation. Right there, in the living room, in front of the entire Atlantic Ocean—or at least a small part of it.

He was similarly affected—if the large hard bulge in his trousers was any indication. He signaled his intentions by thrusting it against her and she knew she’d willingly parted her legs and thrust back.

God, it had been erotic. Some mad unleashed lust, pouring over them both like the moonlight, driving sanity away with a single touch and replacing it with pure need. She had no idea when his hands had found her breasts, only that she was moaning into his mouth as he thumbed a nipple to sensitive, almost painful hardness with urgency.

Neither did she realize she’d slipped her own hand down between them and sought his erection, enfolding as much as she could in her grasp and squeezing it firmly through his trousers.

Exactly when they both became aware of what they were doing—well, she wasn’t sure of that either.

But at some point they’d torn their mouths apart and panted, staring at each other in the dim light. She was afraid to move, afraid they’d take that final leap and spend the night naked, doing what they both wanted…fucking each other into unconsciousness.

Minnie ached with the urge to do just that. But she wasn’t an idiot nor a desperate youngster. Her experience stood her in good stead and although it was a challenging battle, she recaptured control of her wayward impulses.

Pierce was in much the same state. His voice was low, edgy, harsh with his desire. “Not yet. But soon.”

“Yes.” She whispered the word back, pushing it around a lump of lust that had stuck in her throat. “Soon.”

And she’d fled, shamelessly running from him, from his heat, from the need that had erupted between them. She’d fled from the knowledge that he might be more than she could handle and they’d both find themselves enmeshed in something beyond their imaginings.

The mere idea that such a thing might happen scared Minnie to bits and she ran away before she could do something really stupid.

Like grab him, tear his clothes off and sate desires she didn’t even know she possessed.

She rose on one elbow, punched the pillow and lay back down again, trying to breathe calmly and relieve the frustration racking her every nerve ending. This was silly, she told herself. Juvenile even. She’d certainly been kissed before. And she’d been touched before.

She enjoyed sex, enjoyed the intimacy of lovemaking and even enjoyed pushing a few boundaries now and again. She wasn’t averse to trying new positions and found the occasional spanking to be very erotic and arousing.

She liked exploring men, learning what they liked and didn’t like. It had all been rather fun, she mused, a most pleasant end to an evening, an enhancement to a relationship, and now and again quite breathtaking.

But this was the first time a simple kiss had nearly blown the ears off her head. The first time the touch of a man’s lips, a man’s hands, had ratcheted up her arousal to the point where she was ready to lie down and spread her legs while begging him to fuck her blind.

She wanted him. In the bluntest and most fundamental ways. She wanted to really fuck him and have him fuck her back. There was no ladylike delicacy here, no gentle seduction or polite euphemisms. There were no euphemisms at all for what she was feeling right this minute.

Her body crawled with lust, her sex was moist, her nipples hard. Sweat dewed her skin, and it was as if hot needles danced low in her belly. Almost painful, making her wince and bite her lower lip, this ravaging need for a man she’d known barely a day.

It was unheard of, unforeseen and she should have been terrified.

She wasn’t. She was elated and wondering if she could indeed wait for the right moment. All the sensations plaguing her were annoying, yes. But the root cause—Pierce Lowell—was anything but.

Yes, she was sexually frustrated right now. But it was a good thing. Not one of her lovers had ever brought her to this point with a kiss.

Pierce was the first. And she knew, deep inside, that sex with him, lying beneath him, on top of him, however they chose to fuck each other—she knew it would be unique.

Lost in her own little whirlpool of turbulent emotions, it took a few seconds for her to realize that something strange was irritating her skin. She stilled and focused—the silk of her nightgown was clinging to her body all of a sudden.

Kicking off what was left of the sheets, she lay motionless for a moment, her attention now turned outward. There was the tiniest hum coming from somewhere and every ten or fifteen seconds, a minute vibration. If she hadn’t held her breath, she wouldn’t have noticed it.

The lighthouse? Was the light rotating and could that be causing these odd phenomena?

She slid from the bed and walked to the window. There—the sweep of a beam, but far away. Even though the light source was atop the building in which she now stood, the illumination was focused a long distance away. There was but a thin line of light passing around the Brass Pluggit. It didn’t open out until perhaps a quarter of a mile or so. Which was just as it should be, for a lighthouse.

And the rotation was wrong. It didn’t match up with that little hum Minnie could now feel through the soles of her bare feet.

Curious, she grabbed her thin dressing gown and wrapped it around herself, covering her fragile silk nightgown and tying it at her waist. Soft slippers protected her toes, and thus arrayed, she crept from her room to track down the source of that vibration.

Logic told her it was coming from Pierce’s laboratory, so that was the direction she took, down two more flights of stairs and arriving at the door leading to his sanctum.

The hum was louder—still little more than a murmur—but to her excellent hearing it was quite distinct. Cautiously, and as silently as possible, she crept to the door and turned the knob. There was no squeak or rattle as she pushed it open, only a sudden stream of soft green light.

She blinked and soundlessly moved inside, easing the door shut behind her, biting her lip against making a sound.

“Come on in, Minnie.”

She jumped at least a foot off the floor.

“Dear God, you scared the damn life out of me.” She clutched her heart in that classic gesture of one surprised to the point of collapse.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He looked smug.

She raised an eyebrow. “Clearly I wasn’t the only one.”

“That’ll teach us to exchange kisses and not follow through.” He simply wasn’t strong enough to resist teasing her. “Are you here to tell me you’d like me in your bed?”

She snorted. “No.”

“Liar.”

Her lips twitched and she shook her head against a laugh, her chestnut hair springing every which way and almost floating around her head. “I’m here because I felt a vibration, a kind of hum. And because I think there’s a buildup of static electricity in my room, since my nightgown decided to crawl all over my skin.”

“Dammit.” Pierce swore softly and ran a hand through his hair. He was still dressed, although his shirt now fell loosely around his hips since he’d pulled it free of his trousers when he’d come down to the laboratory. “I apologize, Minnie. I have a damping system in place, but it’s not always as effective as it should be. I am sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She was distracted by what she saw. “I’d like to know what the hell this is.”

This
was a part of his work he hadn’t exactly mentioned to Minnie. To be honest, there was no exactly about it. He had kept silent about it, deliberately. He did not want it getting back to Parliament. It had been insanely stupid of him to fire it up tonight, with her sleeping right above the laboratory.

Stupid to use it at all when guests were present. But he’d not been thinking as clearly as he should have been and was driven by the need to get his mind out of his trousers and into something useful.

Not Minnie.

So he shouldn’t have been surprised when the doorknob moved and she crept in like a thief in the night. And truthfully, part of him wasn’t. The part that wondered if he’d obeyed a subconscious urge to draw her back down to him, to finish what they’d started.

However, it seemed her thoughts were now well away from any kind of physical union and focused entirely on his illuminated console.

He sighed. He couldn’t explain this away with facile or glib scientific terms. She might not understand the theory or the circuitry, but she would understand the implications. He walked to her side, put down the brandy snifter he’d just refilled and pulled out his chair, motioning to her to sit.

“You might as well get comfortable.”

“This is…” She reached out and touched glass. “Intriguing.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “It’s also complex, experimental, unfinished and quite confidential. You are only the second person to have seen it in operation. Dusk was the first. I am going to ask of you what I asked of him. Please do not relate to anyone else what you’re seeing now or what I’m about to tell you.”

She glanced up at him and gave him a look of disdain. “I have kept more secrets than you’ve had bottles of brandy. Please don’t give my discretion a second thought.”

“I had to ask.” He refused to be apologetic. She didn’t yet comprehend what she was looking at. “Let’s see if I can explain this.” He pulled up a small stool and sat beside her, their shoulders almost touching.

It seemed oddly right.

“What am I looking at?”

She was seated in front of the console. The desk surface featured a few dials and switches and the occasional knob. But it was the glass surface on the wall above the desk that had all her attention. He kept it enclosed by two unobtrusive cabinet doors, which explained why she hadn’t seen it earlier in the day. It was mostly black, framed in brass and wood. But on it things were moving. More like a shallow box mounted upright than a mirror or a picture, this device was flickering, rippling with green strands making their way from the top to the bottom.

“You are looking at a representation of the coastline and the waters off shore. I think the distance is currently set at half a mile.”

She blinked. “I can’t… I don’t…”

He leaned forward and pointed. “Here. This odd jagged shape? That’s the Needles rocks. Here’s the actual coastline.” He touched a glowing line that wiggled its way across the bottom of the screen and stopped sharply. “And this is the sea.”

“And these?” She pointed to a few small dots in the sea area he’d just indicated.

“Those are ships.”

“Good Lord.”

“Yes.” He waited, knowing her intuitive intellect would be processing this information and drawing an assortment of conclusions about now.

She drew in a breath, a movement that did interesting things to the front of her dressing gown. Pierce, of course, made a point of
not
noticing the rise and fall of soft breasts, loose and free beneath the fragile fabric. Nor did he specifically notice the small buds poking firmly from the silk. He never, for one moment, imagined sucking them or tonguing them.

No. He was a scientist in his laboratory. He was focused on his work.

Not Minnie’s breasts.

And he was lying through his teeth.

“So I’m looking at a sort of map, more like a photograph I suppose, of what is out there on the ocean
right this minute
?”

He smiled. She was as good as he’d guessed. “Yes. Exactly.”

“Well.” She leaned back in the chair. “This has some pretty exciting potential, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” He glanced down at her face, highlighted by the unearthly green glow from the console screen. “It also has some dangerous ones.”

She nodded, her expression sobering. “God forbid Whitehall should hear of this. They’d be down here and all over you like ants on honey.”