Page 16 of Company of Thieves
FOUR
Darkness reached acrossthe sky with long, skeletal fingers while we flew northward. I stood on the observation deck—unlike the commercial airship in which I’d flown earlier, Alan’s ship had its observation decks on the sides—and watched not only the sky grow darker and darker, but the shadows creep across the ripple of land beneath us.
“Honestly, if I’d known he was going north, I would have waited there for him,” I said to myself while I watched the land slip by. Two other crewmen were on the deck, dressed in the same gold uniform that Alan wore, complete with leather armor, turbans, and boots that went to the knee.
A third crewman joined us, standing close to me, well within the boundaries of my personal space. I edged along the railing to put a little distance between us, my mind busy with the memory of Alan standing in his tent, stark naked, flaunting his muscles and chest and arms and legs and that incredible ass at me. My fingers twitched at the memory of that ass, of the feel of it, the warm, thick muscles that gave it such lovely curves.
Then I remembered that I wasn’t there looking for a sexual relationship. Alan might be tempting as hell, but it was his fighting ability that was of paramount importance to me. Without the training that Alan could offer me, I’d be lost, and would quickly find myself back on Jack and Octavia’s ship, a helpless weight around their necks.
“I refuse to be that,” I said softly. “Alan is just going to have to get with the program.”
The crewman nearest me gave me a look, and scooted next to me.
Alan. Dear god, even now I wanted to touch him again. All of him. I slid farther down the railing, my eyes on the shadowed landscape, my mind pushing aside the problem of finding my place in this world to celebrate the glory that was naked Alan. Lord knew, the man’s chest alone could drive a saint to sin, with the curling dark hair that wasn’t overly abundant, but present enough to make it very clear the difference between his body and my own.
“Is there something about me that suddenly offends you?” the crewman asked, taking three steps toward me.
I stared at him in surprise, realizing it was Alan. “Oh, it’s you. Boy, you guys all wear the same thing, don’t you? No, there’s nothing about you that offends me. Why?”
“You kept moving away from me.”
He was wearing exactly the same outfit as the other men, his turban hiding his hair. His armor appeared to have a little more ornate decoration worked on it, but otherwise, he was indistinguishable from the others.
At least, he was to me.
“Have you ever heard of prosopagnosia?” I asked.
He frowned. “No. What is it?”
I shrugged, deciding that I wanted to appear in the best light, as someone who was worthy of all the things I wanted him to teach me. “It’s not important. Does all your armor look like that?” I gestured toward his leather breastplate.
He looked down at, one hand touching it. “For the most part, yes. Do you have an objection to it?”
“Not in the least. It’s very cool, and looks fairly comfortable. I just wondered if that design of lions and birds was something embossed on all of your armor. I take it you finally have time to talk to me?”
He was silent for a moment, his blue eyes unreadable. “You are unlike any woman I have known.”
“Yeah, that’s no surprise,” I said with a smile. “I’m kind of unique here. Well, not totally, but mostly unique. I have a business proposition to make to you. Er ...” I glanced over his shoulder at the two men who were now openly watching us.
Alan didn’t even turn to look at them. He simply said a word in what must have been his native language. The two crewmen hurriedly left the observation deck.
“I didn’t mean to run them off, but I really need to talk to you about what I’d like you to do for me.”
“Does it involve me standing still while you torment me by touching my body parts?” he asked, leaning an elbow against the railing.
Instantly, my eyes went to his chest. I liked his armor. It looked like something I’d seen at Renaissance fairs, with lovely curved lines, lots of rivets and straps, and touches of metal at the shoulders. In the center where a long piece of leather drew a straight line from the collarbone, embossed fantastical lions and birds of prey danced along the length. “I didn’t realize I was tormenting you. I did ask if you minded, and you said no.”
“I didn’t mind. Hallie.” His voice seemed thick, as if he was choked.
“Hmm?” I dragged my eyes from his chest, wishing I’d asked him whether he minded if I stroked the lovely muscles that rippled down to his belly.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I will take you to my cabin, remove that interesting but slightly improper garment you are wearing, and take my turn touching you.”
“Just because I like touching your behind—and really, you have to admit that any woman would want to once she’d seen it in all its glory—doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you. Assuming that’s what you were referring to with regards to your turn. Well, all right, I kind ofdowant to sleep with you, but that’s because you are really handsome, and you were nice to me, and I haven’t had a boyfriend in over a year now, and you know how it is. You’re by yourself, so you’re not getting any noogie regularly, but you have needs and urges and desires, and there’s no one to scratch those itches, so you just have to either distract yourself with something else or take care of business all on your own, and although I’m not opposed to doing so on a general principle, I’ve always viewed that as kind of a desert-island last-case scenario sort of thing, you know? Do you?”
A number of expressions flitted across his face while I spoke. He took some time before he asked, “Do I what?”
“Take care of business.” I gestured toward his groin. “Yourself, that is.”
