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  “But, Cap’n,” the lad protested as I shoved him one step at a time down the gangway to the ground.

  “Shoo. Begone. Go enjoy your last evening in Rome. I will see you at six bells.”

  “Cap’n, Mr. Piper’ll have my dillywhacker if I don’t—”

  I gave him a look that probably frightened a good three years off him. “You’ll lose more than your personal equipment if you don’t do as I say!”

  His shoulders slumped as he nodded, and shuffled off. I reentered the ship, my gaze honed to razor sharpness as I hunted down the other members of my crew. Mr. Ho I found in her cabin, putting away her clothing in a foot-locker. “Mr. Ho,” I said in my most disappointed tone.

  She gave me a level look. “Captain Pye.”

  A silence grew, a rather uncomfortable silence.

  “I am sorry to see you here. I had assumed you would be cherishing your last night in such a romantic city.”

  “I fully intend to avail myself of the city as soon as I’m through setting my things to right,” she said evenly. There was a pause that was even more uncomfortable than the previous one. “I realize it is none of my business, Captain, but I could not help but notice that your bed in our shared accommodations has not been disturbed since we arrived.”

  “Oddly enough, I was about to remark the same about your bed,” I said, lifting my chin.

  She nodded an acknowledgment of that, and allowed herself a little smile. “I have greatly enjoyed our leave here.”

  “As have I.”

  “Then we are in harmony on such matters,” she said rather stiffly.

  “We are. You will leave the Tesla as soon as you have finished here?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “I had wanted to make myself available to you,” she said slowly, her eyes curiously examining me. “But if you have no need of me, then I shall do as you suggest.”

  “Everything is under control. Enjoy your last evening here,” I said, closing the door and releasing a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. There was something about Mr. Ho that simultaneously relieved me and worried me, but I couldn’t for the life of me pinpoint just what.

  Mr. Mowen was just coming on board when I headed for the forward cargo hold. It took some doing, but I managed to convince him that all was well with the ship, and that he needn’t check anything before the morning.

  I poked my head into the now empty hold after getting rid of him, just to double-check that nothing was awry, and was startled to find it occupied.

  “Titties of the virgin!” Mr. Piper exclaimed as I popped into the room. He clutched his chest and staggered a couple of feet to a chair that was bolted to the floor next to the door. “Ye damn near scared the hair right off me balls jumpin’ in on me like that!”

  “Mr. Piper,” I said, hands on my hips. “I thought you were off having your rusticles scraped! What are you doing here?”

  His startled expression melted into one of smug masculine pleasure. “Aye, Captain, that I was. I went t’see Two-Guinea Tandy, finest whore in all of Italy. She’s got muscles in her Suez Canal that can grip a man like a pair of hands. Fair stripped the foreskin right off me rod, they did, the first time I had her. Scared me ’alf to death until she told me that she’s known far and wide for her ability to milk a man without layin’ so much as a finger on him.”

  “Mr. Piper,” I said firmly, straightening my shoulders and giving him a look that I hoped he read with great accuracy. “I am not interested in your leisure- time activities except so far as they concern you being on the Tesla when you are supposed to be elsewhere. You have the rest of the evening free, so I suggest you go back to your friend and allow her to . . . er . . . grip you again.”

  “But, Captain,” he said, lifting a wan hand. “Once ye’ve been milked by Two-Guinea Tandy, yer cods is drained dry. There be’nt any use in me goin’ to see her again. Not until twenty-four hours has passed to allow me sacs to refill.”

  “Surely a man of your lusty appetite can find something to do with Tandy,” I said, pulling him to his feet.

  “Nay, Captain. ’Tis the truth I’m tellin’ ye. Look, I’ll show ye—here’re me tallywags. See how they just hang there, swayin’ ever so forlornly in the wind, like a pair of empty plums?”

  Before I could stop him, Mr. Piper dropped his trousers and pulled up the front of his shirt, gesturing toward his groin. I averted my gaze immediately, but not before getting sight of that which I hoped never to see again.

  “Have ye ever in yer life seen a pair of cods as drained?” he demanded, prodding at himself. “I couldn’t mount a flight of stairs, let alone a whore as demanding as Tandy be, not without givin’ me clappers time to recover.”

  “How goes the—what the hell is going on here?”

  I whirled around at the sound of Jack’s outraged voice. “Oh. Jack. Um . . . I found Mr. Piper.”

  “So I see,” Jack said, glaring at the bosun. “What’s he doing exposing himself to you? That’s what I’d like to know.”

  “The captain didn’t believe me when I told her that Two-Guinea Tandy had drained me oysters dry,” Mr. Piper said, gesturing once again toward his crotch. “But ye be a man of the world, and ye’ll be able to tell her the truth in what I say. Er . . .” Mr. Piper thankfully hiked up his trousers, squinting at Jack as he did up the buttons. “If ye don’t mind me askin’, didn’t we leave ye off outside of Rome a few days ago?”

  “Yes. I’m back.” Jack gave me a look that had me clearing my throat. “I assume you are finished showing the captain your nuts? Good. If you don’t mind, I need her to look at something.”

  “Oh, aye?” Mr. Piper looked speculatively at me before leaning toward Jack and saying in what was supposed to be a confidential tone, “I wouldn’t be showin’ her yer middle leg and baubles just yet, lad. She looks to be in a right mood, and the ladies, they need a bit of sweet-talking before they welcome ye to fix their plumbin’.”

  I rubbed my forehead as Mr. Piper, with a wink at Jack, and a leer at me, staggered off to parts unknown. “In a way, I shall miss the crew. But on the other hand, the thought of having a normal crew, one that does not possess individuals who can disappear and reappear at will, and a bosun obsessed with all things sexual, is strangely attractive. What is it you wanted to see me about? I assume it wasn’t to show me your—” I waved toward his fly.

  “Not until later, no. Your chief officer is here. He . . . uh . . . took exception to finding me in the navigation room, and seemed convinced that I was holding you captive, and that it was his duty to alert the authorities.”

  “Oh, no.” I bolted from the room, heading down the corridor to the spiral stairs leading up to the small navigation room housing the machinery that piloted the airship, Jack right on my heels. “You didn’t let him leave, did you?”

  “You should know me better than that,” Jack said, grabbing my arm as I charged up the stairs and reached for the door to the navigation room. “Tavy, I should warn you—it looks a lot worse than it really is.”

  I opened the door, looked in, then closed it quietly again.

  “Jack.”

  He winced at the expression in my eyes. “I can explain.”

  “I should hope so.” I took a deep breath, then asked, “Why is my chief officer hanging upside down, naked, with my best corset strapped to his chest?”

  Jack opened the door. “I couldn’t find any rope. You’d think that an airship would have great big coils of rope lying around, but no, I couldn’t find so much as a ball of string, and I had to have something to immobilize his arms, Tavy. Your corset was the only thing I had, so I used it to strap him down so he won’t be able to escape.”

  “Today seems to be my day for seeing members of my crew sans clothing. He appears to be unconscious.”

  Jack rubbed his chin. “Ye-es, I thought you’d notice that, too. He put up a bit of a fight, so I used the Vulcan Neck Pinch on him. Or the real-world equivalent.”

  The naked chief officer swayed
ever so slightly as the ship moved with the wind. “I believe I’ll forgo inquiring about this Vulcan Neck Pinch, and instead ask you why you felt it necessary to strip Mr. Christian.”

  The look he gave me was pitying. “I forget you haven’t seen MacGyver, but you can take it from me that it greatly increases your chances of escape if you’re fully clothed. But string someone up naked and hang them by their feet, and you’re just about guaranteed to keep them where you want them.”

  I sighed, and gestured toward the man, entering the small room. “Get him down.”

  “He was pretty violent, Octavia. Punched me in the jaw, as a matter of fact, but I didn’t hold that against him, since he thought I was abducting you. Maybe we should keep him up there for a bit until he wakes up. You wouldn’t want him to escape to warn the authorities if we were distracted, would you?”

  “For a man who professes to follow the doctrine of doing unto others as you would have them do unto you, you’re rather imaginative with your methods of restraint,” I said, gesturing toward the chief officer again.

  Jack hauled a chair over and stood on it, pulling out a small penknife to slash what appeared to be a pair of my best wool stockings that bound Mr. Christian’s feet to the framework that ran over our heads. “Just because I’m a Quaker doesn’t mean I’m a wimp, sweetheart. I don’t kill people, but I don’t have a problem restraining someone who will cause us grief. And it wasn’t easy getting him up here on my own, you know. Took some doing. Watch out below.”

  I managed to grab Mr. Christian’s head so it would not strike the floor with the rest of him. “I have every confidence that I will be able to reason with him when he wakes up. Until then, we will leave him bound on the floor. Will that suffice for security measures?”

  “MacGyver would escape in about ten seconds,” Jack said, shaking his head.

  “Then let Mr. MacGyver’s captain worry about him. I will just see to the autonavigator while we’re here.”

  “And I’ll go off to finish checking the engines in the boiler room. That sheet of start-up procedures you found in Mowen’s room was very detailed. I’ll have the engines primed and ready to go. Oh, and Octavia?”

  I consulted the navigation charts, making note of the course I would need to enter into the navigator. “Hmm?”

  His eyes positively danced with pleasure. “My engine will be primed and ready to go, as well. If you’re up to seeing a third set of genitalia for the evening.”

  I smiled. There really was nothing to be said.

  Women Are Complicated Creatures

  “Here you are. Now, why did I have a feeling I’d find you here, Jack?”

  I stopped imagining Octavia flat on her back, writhing beneath me, urging me on in that husky, breathy voice she had, and smiled. “Because you’re a very intelligent woman, that’s why. Have I mentioned that I think smart is sexy?”

  She blushed, just as I knew she would, closing the door to her cabin in a pretty confusion that never failed to delight me. “I can’t imagine anyone would find ignorance attractive, so it makes sense that the opposite must be true.”

  “You don’t like being complimented, do you? It’s something I’ve noticed about you, Tavy. Usually feelings of inferiority accompany that sort of mentality, but I don’t think you feel that way.”

  “Then you would be wrong,” she said with a primness that, again, delighted me. “I feel less than secure on a number of issues. This engaging in sexual acts while standing is one example. I wish I had a pamphlet on it, Jack. I wish I could see some diagrams about where one’s hands go, and how one’s legs are to be dealt with.”

  She was a mystery, my Octavia was, a woman who was both strong and yielding, sophisticated and yet naive. She had the manner of a prude, but once her passion was stirred, she was a wildcat, demanding more and more until I thought my eyes were going to roll back in my head and I’d just flat-out die of sexual gratification. She was a conundrum, a puzzle, and I loved every interesting facet to her intriguing personality.

  And that was what worried me. “I’m no Alan Alda, you know,” I said as she moved over to a large brass-bound trunk and began taking off her clothes. “I don’t like quiche. I get bored at Jane Austen movies, and I’d rather have my ball hair plucked out than sit around discussing what I feel at any given moment.”

  She paused in the act of pulling off her shirt, surprise and confusion written on her adorable face. “I beg your pardon?”

  I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of her bed. I was, naturally, naked, and even though I felt it was important to make a few points, I couldn’t help but be pleased by the way in which her gaze lingered on me. “I try to be sensitive to a woman’s wants and needs, of course. I’m not a selfish pig, after all. I want to give you as much pleasure as you give me. But that’s just sex, and what we’re talking about here isn’t sex.”

  Her expression was confused. “It isn’t?”

  “No. You need help?” I got to my feet and moved behind her, peeling off her shirt and tossing it onto the chest, quickly loosening the corset strings as she’d shown me a few days ago, bringing my hands around to caress her tits before undoing the hooked part of the corset front. I moaned into her hair as she filled my hands, so warm and soft and mouthwateringly wonderful. “Oh, God, I’m never going to get enough of this, am I?”

  “No,” she said on a long breath, leaning back against me, her hands covering mine as I kneaded the soft globes. “No, you never will.”

  I breathed in the scent of her, something that held a faint hint of honeysuckle, but was mostly a pure, womanly smell that had my balls tightening with pleasure. “I’ve been in love before, Tavy. I don’t want you to think I haven’t, because I have.”

  “Have you?” She shivered as I sucked on the spot behind her ear that always made her knees buckle. I loved her knees.

  “Yes. I always hoped it would last, but it never did. I think it’s something to do with me, the way I work or the way I process emotions. I don’t blame the women—they gave it their best shot. I think it’s me.”

  “Yes, yes, it’s definitely you,” she said, her voice becoming increasingly ragged as I slid my hands down, peeling off first the thin gauzy chemise she wore beneath the corset, then working the buttons on her skirt until I could slide it over her hips. It settled on the floor around her feet with a sigh that I echoed. “About this standing up—”

  “This is important, Tavy,” I said, unbuttoning her petticoat to the long underwear she wore beneath the skirts, pushing them, too, down over her hips until she stood naked except for a pair of knee-high silk stockings, held up by a pair of garters. I turned her around, curling my fingers down around the plump lines of her ass, parting her legs until I could feel the heat of her, heat that glowed only for me.

  “What is?” She was having problems speaking, her breath coming in short spurts as I dipped my fingers inside, teasing her soft flesh. “Merciful heavens, Jack! Do that again!”

  A sense of possession shook me for a moment, the knowledge that this woman was mine, and mine alone. I rubbed my thumb in the circular manner she found so pleasing, feeling her passion clear down to my bones as she writhed and panted soft little breaths that made me as hard as a rock.

  “It’s important that you realize that what we have probably won’t last. It never has before, and although you’re different, Tavy, completely and utterly different from any woman I’ve been in love with before, it never lasts. There’ll come a time when we both will be ready to move on. I don’t want you hurt when that happens.”

  She quivered in my arms, her fingernails digging into the flesh on my shoulders, as I pleasured her. But a few seconds after I delivered my warning, her eyes snapped open. She stopped quivering. In fact, she downright glared at me, as if I’d done something to piss her off.

  Before I could explain again that I was just trying to keep her from being hurt when the inevitable happened, she let go of my left shoulder, made a fist, and punched me as hard a
s she could in my gut.

  “Hey!” I said, releasing her to rub my abused belly. “What the hell was that for?”

  Her glare was truly monumental now. “I think I agree with you, Jack.”

  Surprise felt somewhat hollow in my stomach. I rubbed it again, wondering if it was just because she’d hit me there that acknowledgment of the rightness of what I said felt so cold and clammy. “About us having no permanent future?”

  “About it being more enjoyable to have your testicular hair plucked out than indulge in a discussion of your feelings.” Her fingers twitched, as if she wanted to start the plucking immediately.

  I took a prudent step back. “I’m just trying to think of you. I’m trying to be sensitive and caring.”

  “By telling me that the time will come when you will tire of me and look for another woman?”

  I was lucky there wasn’t a large, heavy object within her reach at that moment, because I think she would have brained me with it if there had been. Clearly, she misunderstood how thoughtful I was being. “No, by telling you that I love you. It’s not easy for a man to say that, Tavy, or at least it’s not easy for me. But I do love you, and I know you want to hear that. I just don’t want you to think that it’s going to be a forever sort of thing, because based on my past history, it doesn’t last.”

  She stopped looking like she wanted to kill me, a thoughtful expression settling across her face. Her lips softened as she considered me. “You love me?”

  “Yes. I just said that.” I waited, but she didn’t reciprocate. “Er . . . did I mention how hard it is for me to say that?”

  “Yes,” she said, continuing to look thoughtful. She moved over to the bed and sat, removing first her shoes, then her stockings.

  “I don’t want to hurry you or anything, but now would be a good time for you to tell me you feel the same way, and then we can get on to the sex part of the evening,” I said, a little surprised that she hadn’t taken the hint. Normally she was so quick.

  Her eyebrows rose. “You wish for me to tell you what?”