Page 51 of Heart of Iron
She’d been in a state of agitation all day, unable to settle.Unable to do more than toy with her food or read a paragraph of theTimes.His words kept playing through her mind.Thenwe’ll see if your words areworth anythin’.
Lena shivered.She could feel him watching her.
Murmurs started behind her.The crowd shifting.A prickle at the back of her neck.As she turned, fanning at herself in agitation, the crowd parted, skirts swishing out of the way like the Red Sea.For a moment she couldn’t see him.Only a man dressed in crisp black, who stepped into the wake of the crowd with arrogant disdain, striding as if he belonged there.
She glanced past the elegant cut of his coat, buttoned strictly up the left side of his breast.And then her gaze shot back to him, her eyes widening.
Oh, my God…
Lena actually stopped breathing.
She’d never seen him in anything other than a loose shirt and coat.The sight of him dressed for the evening was utterly devastating.The stark black of his coat drew attention to the dusky gold of his skin, and his hair—the beautiful amber locks that her fingers always itched to touch—was gone.
The fan stopped moving, the ghostly tips of its feathers dancing over her breasts.Will stepped out of the shadows, gaslight highlighting the stark bones of his cheeks and brow, the burnished bronze of his eyes locked on her with an intensity no bystander could mistake for anything other than interest.Pure, predatory interest.
He had to stop looking at her like that.
Lena turned away with a jerk, frantically sucking in a breath.If they saw the intensity of his gaze, her reputation would be ruined.
Which was exactly how he predicted she’d react.
Her shoulders slumped.He’d practically dared her to deny her association with him.And though mockery had laced his tone, there’d been a hint of hurt in his eyes.
As if he knew he’d never be good enough.
Head bowed, she turned toward him, aware of the malicious eyes watching them.If only he wasn’t standing there silently, waiting for her to make the decision either to cut him or to forever forsake any chance of joining this glittering world.
But how could the Echelon ever accept him if she didn’t?
Will offered her his arm, as smoothly as if they’d practiced it a thousand times and not mere dozens.There was a devilish gleam in his eyes.A dare.“Shall we?”
Despite her gloves, she could feel the unnatural heat of his body through his sleeve as she accepted.Murmurs started as they strolled toward the platform and the smile on Lena’s lips died.
“I’m not supposed to be up there,” she whispered.Above her, fireworks blazed to life, the shrill scream of the rockets stealing her words.
Will leaned closer.Now that he was in profile, she could see that his hair had been gathered back into a tight queue, the velvet strands of the ribbon brushing against his nape.
“I thought you cut your hair,” she blurted.
“You sound relieved.Thought me hair were unfashionable.”
Not even a hint that he was as stricken as she.Lena ground her teeth together.“It is.”
“Then I’ll cut it.”
At her shocked look, a smile curled at his lips.Her gaze locked onto it.Dangerous.The little tick of her heartbeat fluttered in warning.
“All of it.”He smoothed a hand over his scalp.“Annoys me anyway.”
“Do what you want,” she lied, “I don’t care.”
The smile he gave her was answer enough.
“Here we go,” he said, staring up at the platform.There was no sign of the prince consort or the queen, but all seven of the Council waited.
Will took a deep breath and for the first time, Lena realized he was nervous.She squeezed his arm.“Have you never met others of your kind before?”
“Never.”His gaze swept over the river, lingering on the naval officers that lined the deck of the dragon-ship.“Spent most of me life in that cage, then trapped in Whitechapel by the price on me head.”
