A deadly ripple of fur shot out from under a bookcase.
“Hellfire! What?” He jerked back. Reflexes, honed by years of dodging exotic threats, kicked in. He went for the knife.
It was the ferret, out of its cage. Snarling jaws clamped to his boot, tearing into the leather. “Watch it, Jess! Get back. They bite.”
Before he could stop her, she was on the floor, pulling the claws and snarls loose from his boot, clutching the animal against her. “Bad ferret! No!”
Twenty inches of malevolent fur wriggled and cheeped and stretched to lick at her face. She choked out a laugh and settled, tailor-fashion, onto the floor, unselfconscious as a child. “Bad Kedger.”
He let his breath out. “Bloody piping peace.” He’d seen the thing in its cage last night, hissing and snarling. He’d wondered what a vicious beast like that was doing in her office. “It’s a pet. Your pet.”
She gave him a sideways glance and the edge of a grin. “This is me mate. Been with me a while, the Kedger. Kedger, meet the Captain.”
He tried not to be obvious, slipping his knife back into the sheath in his jacket. His heart was still banging in his ribs. He’d thought the beast was going to take her eye out. “Some women keep spaniels.”
“So I hear.” She pressed her face into the length of hostile, undulating animal and blew gently into its fur. “Quiet now. That’s the beautiful Kedger. Fine boy.”
That husky voice insinuated itself into his imagination. The silk of it twined through his body, pulling and stroking. He could almost feel Jess with her face pressed to him, blowing against his skin, murmuring.
He was going to bewitch this woman and intrigue her till she was sleepy-eyed and willing and their mouths got up to all kinds of mischief on each other’s bodies.
But not now.
He hardened up instantly, imagining that. This wasn’t the time or the place. Stop it. She’s so close to being frightened of me. Think about something else. Think damn hard.
It was impossible to think of anything but Jess. Out in the clerks’ room, the whole length of the room, the blinds were up, letting the morning light in. Sun glared off every desk and cabinet and streamed through to light Jess up from behind. Wisps of hair escaped around her head and glowed like Venetian glass. A gilded girl, in a halo of dazzle.
From under her coiled braid, a black button of a nose emerged, then a gray, pointed snout, then sneaky black eyes. Lips drew back, showing fangs, upper and lower. If it bit her, he’d strangle it. “It’s tearing holes in your dress, hanging on that way.”
“He’s excited. His life’s been replete with incident lately.” She spread her fingers and let the beady black nose explore between them. “It’s kind of unusual, the way he went for you. He doesn’t bite just anybody.”
“He doesn’t bite me either, if he knows what’s good for him. Why don’t you put that son of a . . . ferret where it won’t do any damage.”
Her smile widened. She’d enjoyed seeing him dance around, avoiding teeth. He didn’t begrudge her a little vengeance. The vermin sneered over the crook of her arm, clicking like a demented clock. She said, “He doesn’t fancy you, does he? They say animals always know.”
“That’s what they say.”
“Sees unplumbed depths of infamy in you, I expect.” One-handed, cuddling the ferret, she fumbled with the latch of the cage. The ferret ran down her arm, upended, and took a stand on a bit of rolled-up carpet, cursing, tail puffed out like an angry cat’s. “He seems nervous today. You would not believe how sensitive ferrets are.”
The door of the cage closed. Steel grated between ferret jaws as Jess’s sweet, sensitive pet tried to gnaw its way out. Death threats whirled behind its beady eyes.
He thinned his own lips back. You can be a fur muff by sundown, chum. He met the glare with one of his own.
The black paws scrubbed together in quick, tiny jerks. Then the vermin turned its back and began grooming itself. He and the ferret understood each other precisely.
“I let him loose down on the main floor after business hours.” Jess fiddled with the water dish, poking her finger through the bars. “He spends the night running through the freight stacks, terrorizing the cats. Kedger’s always in a good mood after a night rollicking around the warehouse.”
She pushed a strand of hair back from her face with a quick circling of her forefinger. It flowed down the shy crevice behind the shell of her ear, unwinding like dribbled honey.
She knew he’d come up close behind her. She was buzzing with annoyance inside, but he felt—he could almost smell—her awareness of him. She wanted him. Jess was a woman, with a woman’s knowledge. The heat in her wove through the air between them, to him, and back to her, tying them together.
He’d had lovers, wise and skillful women who’d used every secret of the courtesan’s art to arouse him. Jess did that with her smallest gesture, not even trying. She stayed absolutely still, with her back to him and her hand resting on top of the big cage, pretending nothing was going on.
She was lovely, and she drew him like the tides. What the hell was he going to do about it?
Metal tick-ticked on metal. She was playing with the lock. “Pitney’s another one Kedger likes to bite. No telling, is there?” She was reminding him Pitney was twenty feet away, glaring through the glass, motionless as a gargoyle. All the time, he could feel the nervous energy radiating off her. Every inch of her skin was gathered up, anticipating, in case he touched her.
Not today. Not tonight. But soon, he’d touch her entirely and everywhere. He’d plunge into her and feel her come apart with pleasure. He didn’t plan to make any secret of what he had in mind. Let her anticipate that for a while.
“Jess.” Not startling her, he set his fingertips on her shoulder. She was no coward. She turned at once. Her lips were uncertain, full of that pull between them that she didn’t like at all. Her brown gold eyes were unflinching.
He could have cajoled a response out of her, even here, even now, when she was angry at him. That was the weakness in a woman like Jess. She couldn’t take a good grip on hate. Not the way he did. It didn’t burn and broil in her innards like a ball of acid. She couldn’t hold a grudge with a pair of fire tongs.
“I’m sorry I ransacked through your things.” Give him enough time and he’d talk her into forgiving him, because he was a manipulative son of a bitch and she was a warm-hearted woman.
He wouldn’t do it in this fishbowl of an office. Not with Pitney on the other side of that glass window and clerks walking around. He’d do it when he had her alone, and there wouldn’t be any interruptions.
I’m going to keep you alive, Jess.
“You’re poking a stick at a bear. At thirty-seven arrogant, wealthy, dangerous bears. One of them is going to swat you like a fly.”
She shrugged. The soft, dark cotton of her dress slid under his hand.
“Stop baiting those men, or I’ll see you locked up at Meeks Street, right next to your father. I’ll do that to you, if that’s what it takes to keep you safe. Call the hunt off.”
“No.” She stared at him steadily. That old cur, Josiah Whitby, didn’t deserve one-tenth this loyalty.
When he let her go, it was like letting go of sunlight in a dark room. “Find another way.”
THE Captain walked out, leaving that little minnow of an apology behind. He was sorry. Hah.
She should have said something clever and cutting. That’s what a proper lady would do. A proper lady thought up insults beforehand and kept them ready. Kept a list, like.
Pitney grumbled his way from one side of the room to the other, glaring at every place Kennett had been, thwarted because she hadn’t let him start a shoving match in her office.