Page 17 of Company of Thieves
He stared at me for the count of four. “Miss Norris,” he said in a lovely gravelly voice that skittered down my back, sending goose bumps along the flesh of my arms. “Did you just ask me if I indulge in onanism?”
I parsed the word, decided it meant what I thought it meant, and nodded. “It’s just idle curiosity. I never know how often men do that, you see. I mean, it’s not something I can ask my brother, because ew. He’s my brother. I don’t even like seeing him and Octavia lip-locked, other than I’m happy that they have each other. They really are madly in love, which is all sorts of sweet. I just wondered if you are hinting that you’d like to bump uglies because you were a bit needy, too.”
“Bump ...” He shook his head, muttering something before he said, “I would be happy to discuss my sexual needs, urges, and desires with you, but I will only do so in the confined space of my cabin, and then one or both of us will be naked.”
“Oh.” I made a face. “That’s kind of disappointing, but I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable with sexual talk. I know people here get all up in arms about that sort of thing.”
He looked heavenward for a moment, and I had a sense that he was praying for something. Probably patience, since that’s what Jack always said he needed around me. “Would you care to go to my cabin right now to discuss the matter?”
“Not really. Like I said, I’m all”—I lifted my hands and wiggled all ten fingers at him—“needy and such, but I really am not looking for a lover. I need a teacher. A trainer, really, and that’s where you come in.”
“You wish for me to teach you how to be a badass,” he said, nodding. “Would you care to explain your definition of that last term?”
“I want to learn how to fight like you do. Everyone says you’re the best,” I said, feeling a little pandering to his ego wasn’t out of place. “I want to be able to fight alongside my brother’s crew.”
“Why?” he asked. “Does your brother not have enough men to fight that he must conscript women?”
“Oh, you do not want to go down the sexist route,” I told him, giving him a potent look. “Because that crap won’t fly.”
“I wasn’t aware that crap could—”
“Women can do everything a man can do, except peeing while standing up, and we can do that if we have one of those little cup things with spouts that ladies use when camping. Plus we can have babies.”
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then made me a little bow. “The point goes to you, I believe.”
“The answer to your question is that, yes, my brother and his wife have people to fight. But I don’t have anything to do. Do you know how frustrating it is to see everyone else with a job, but no one will let you do anything?”
“Most women are content to find employment in areas other than that of combat,” he said.
“I am not most women.”
“I am coming to see that,” he said with a little twitch of his lips beneath the thick black mustache that was much softer than it looked. I spent a moment reliving the kiss he’d given me before we got on the airship, and felt unusually warm.
“If I could learn to fight, then I’d have a use.” I gave him a long look. “I don’t like being extraneous, Alan. My proposition is that you teach me to fight like you, and in return, I’ll give you the money I have. I can pay you in installments as we go along, if you like. But I’d like to learn three main things: how to fight with a sword, how to shoot the disruptors, and how to use daggers effectively.”
He was silent for an uncomfortably long amount of time, prompting me to ask, “Did I shock you? Do you not have any women in your company who fight? My brother’s crew has two women, including his wife, and she’s deadly with a gun. Er ... disruptor. They both fight whenever they are attacked by the Black Hand or the Mog—” I stopped, suddenly remembering to whom I was speaking.
Alan didn’t seem to notice my almost slip, however. “I am not shocked, and I count amongst my acquaintance women who have been known to pick up a sword, but that is not what gives me pause.”
“What does?” I asked, heartened despite the serious look on his face.
“Does your brother know your intentions in asking for my assistance?”
I pursed my lips, thinking back to the note I’d left. “Yes. That is, I left a note.”
“Ah. You do not, then, have permission to be here?”
“I’m not a child,” I snapped, irritation riding me at the insinuation that I needed permission to do anything. “I’m thirty-three. I don’t need to consult with anyone on decisions I make about my own future.”
“You most definitely are not a child,” he said, his gaze dropping to my chest for a moment. I felt a flush sweep upward from my breasts. “But I, too, have sisters, and I would not like to know that one of them went to your brother to ask for instruction without my knowledge or approval.”
“Then I’m very sorry for your sisters,” I said, lifting my chin to look down my nose at him. Which was basically impossible since he was taller than me. “I can assure you that I neither need nor seek my brother’s permission. Are you going to teach me, or do I need to find someone else? My brother said that Etienne guy with the Black Hand isn’t a fighter, but I bet he could point me to someone who is.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. After another few seconds being silent, he said, “I would be willing to teach you how to defend yourself if your brother gives his approval.”
“Dammit, stop being such a stick-in-the-mud!” I yelled, then realized it wasn’t going to do any good. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, aware of the narrowing of his pretty blue eyes. “It’s wrong of me to blame you for the society norms you were raised with, but put yourself in my shoes for a moment, Alan.”
“I understand that you wish to have an occupation—”
