object.”
“Do you care what he thinks?”
“Perhaps not. But I ought to warn you—he’s a jealous man. And quite dangerous.”
That description pleased Archimedes to no end. “I will fight him for your hand.”
“Only my hand?”
“All of you. But if your hand is all that I can have, it would be far more satisfying than what I have without it: my dreams of you…and my own hand.”
“I won’t cry for you, Mr. Fox. I know how satisfying your hand can be.” Her wicked grin took his breath. Her gaze held his for a long moment, then flicked up…down his length. “I like your daggers.”
“I found them at the silversmith’s.” His hands went to the new weapons sheathed at his hips, and he stroked the scrolled guards with his fingertips, watching her face. “As soon as I saw the crimson grips, I was lost.”
So was Yasmeen, as he knew she’d be. “Are they for me?”
“I chose something else for you. But I’ll sweeten my offer of marriage by allowing you to touch them now and again.”
“With an incentive such as that, I must accept.” Her full lips curved, and her eyes met his again. “Shall I be called Captain Fox-Fox now?”
“You shall be called nothing but my wife.” He looked to the crowd and called out, “She agreed!” Over her laughter and the cheers, he turned back to her and asked, “Now, will you dance with me as they did?”
He knew it wasn’t a simple question, and he anticipated her refusal. Yasmeen lived by her reputation, and although they’d found that they could express their affection onboard, in front of the aviators, even that was almost always in a playful manner, never in a way that undermined her authority. They’d also had serious moments, quiet and intense amidst a working airship crew, but there was always a line they didn’t cross until they were alone in their cabin. That line was typically any form of embracing, or any display of passion—any act that might make the crew wonder whether her captain’s responsibilities held Yasmeen’s full attention.
All of which was perfectly fine, in Archimedes’ mind. It made no more sense to kiss Yasmeen while she was performing her duties than it would to stop for a cuddle while they were searching through ruins and trying to avoid zombies. At any rate, their self-imposed restrictions possessed a wonderful benefit: The hours on deck became a delicious tease, building anticipation for the moments they were alone—when he could hold her in his arms, and do anything they wished.
“I would dance with you on this dock,” she said.
Taken aback, Archimedes was speechless for a moment. Her smile widened. She’d meant to shock him, he realized. But still, what he’d intended to say had to be said, even if it meant refusing her acceptance.
“I would not,” he said. “I could never dance with you as I did with them.”
“Why?” Her brows lifted, her eyes bright with amusement. “Do you think I don’t know a step or two?”
“I’m sure you do. But dancing with them was only for fun. A dance could never be only for fun when you are in my arms—not after wishing you were there for so long, and not when I love you so ardently now.”
She stared at him, all humor bleeding from her expression. Tension quieted the crowd, and they gasped as she let go of the rope, flipping around and landing lightly on her feet. Archimedes rose from kneeling, and though he was taller than she, his shoulders broader, no one could have doubted who was the more dangerous, the more deadly.
And she gave him no warning. Her fingers suddenly fisted in his hair, hauling his mouth down to hers. He heard the relieved laughter and the applause, then there was only the heat of her kiss, the pounding of his heart. Christ, but he loved a fierce woman. She was an answer to his every prayer. His hands circled her waist and her body pressed against his, telling everyone who could see what he wanted everyone to know: By God, he was hers.
But they wouldn’t know the rest, the part he’d asked them to play that afternoon. Because now, when Yasmeen looked down from her airship at these docks, when she walked their length, she wouldn’t just see their fresh boards; the sight wouldn’t just serve as a reminder of how they’d burned when her lady had exploded, a reminder of why the dock had to be rebuilt. Now, she’d remember the