Chapter Five #2
Henry had never seen anything like it. The mastery she had over her craft was exhilarating.
Unable to help himself, Henry slowly rose from his stool. He hardly had the best position, after all, on a level with the anvil. If he wanted to see precisely what she was doing…
Minny did not look up. It were as though he was not there.
In any other situation, Henry would have been offended, but it was impossible to be so with such an intriguing woman before him. His chest tightened, his breathing ragged as he stepped closer.
The iron hook was almost mended. It was an intricate piece of work, something he would never have imagined could be possible with just a few small hammers.
He stepped closer.
“Careful.”
Minny’s word was quiet yet sharp, and Henry halted immediately in his steps.
Dear God, he was transfixed, hypnotized by her work. He had quite forgot himself: the reason he had come here, the interest he had in her…all faded away.
Both sensations returned with a vengeance. Henry glanced over, the perspiration on her brow, the concentration she paid the delicate work.
How could a woman like this, who so evidently had to work hard for a living, permit herself to be drawn in with such rogues? But then, wasn’t that the problem? That she so desperately needed money?
“What’s that?”
“My maker’s mark,” Minny said without looking at him.
Henry nodded sagely. “So everyone will know this is your craftsmanship.”
She narrowed her eyes as she focused. “Of course. I want people to see my impressive work and know to come to me for the work.”
“Can—Can I have a go?”
Henry had not intended to speak, but the desire to be closer Minny was too great. Perhaps if she could show him how to hit that small hammer just so, he could reach out and—
“It’s too slight,” Minny said, still not looking up.
Henry took another step forward, unable to help himself. He was right by the anvil now, the heat of the furnace growing. “But I want to learn.”
“You’ll learn when you’re ready,” Minny said quietly. “Move back, it’s dangerous.”
It was done in a moment. Henry reached forward just as she moved to return the iron hook to the furnace and—
“Ye gods!”
Henry snapped his arm back, wringing his hand as the scalding iron burned his wrist. Never having broken a bone nor experienced anything but a discomforting fall once from the kitchen garden wall, it was a new pain—a most unwelcome one.
“Henry Everleigh, what did I say!” Minny thrust down her work unceremoniously onto the anvil and stepped round in a swift movement. “Come here!”
Before Henry knew what she was doing, before he barely knew what he was doing, Minny had reached for him. She took his hand in hers, brought it swiftly up to her eyes to take a professional look, and—
Henry blinked.
She had placed her lips around the burn. Her tongue met his skin. Then she sucked.
It was all Henry could do not to collapse onto the floor. Oh, the hedonistic sensations flittering up his arm was more than he could bear. Minny stood there, her lips around the edge of his wrist, delicately licking and sucking, and his very toes were curling.
Dear God, he would have to bed her. He could do nothing else, this was the most intimate, the most—
Minny released her mouth from his wrist, then took another careful look. “There we go.”
Henry tried to force his manhood down from attention, tried to remember this was a forge and it would be most unseemly for a duke to bed a woman here.
Not that he didn’t want to.
“Y-You…you…” he stammered.
A flush was tinging Minny’s cheeks again, but she had not released his hand. “It’s the quickest way to calm a burn, th-that’s all. I just—I would have done it for—”
And that was when Henry lost all control.
Would have done it for anyone?
No, that was the last thing he wanted to hear. He would not hear it. He would stop that mouth at once.
Henry crushed his lips upon hers, all the pent-up tension and desire he had fought since he had first clapped eyes on the woman pouring onto her mouth. His hand was still clasped in hers, but his free hand grasped at her waist, pulling her closer.
And instead of fighting him off, pushing him away, telling him in no uncertain terms she had no wish to be taken advantage of…
Minny sank into his kiss.
Henry moaned, unable to help himself. She was sweet and warm, yet there was a fire in her he had never expected. Not fire—passion. She met his own desire with something powerful of her own, leaning into his arms and parting her lips to welcome him in.
Welcome the heady appetite he certainly should not be permitting.
Hating himself for kissing her, and hating himself even more for ending what promised to be a superb kiss, Henry regretfully released the blacksmith and pulled back.
Minny’s hair was mussed, her lips dark pink from the strength of his ardor, and unless Henry was very much mistaken, he was in a similar state.
“Ah,” he said aloud, unhelpfully.
Oh, hell’s bells. This was not the intention, though it made him wonder why he had not considered this in the first place. All this chopping wood and carrying water business could have been replaced with a simple seduction.
A bedding—pleasurable to them both—then pillow talk, in which he would have discovered everything that he needed to know. But now…
“Oh,” said Minny, eyes downcast.
Henry swallowed. Hell, this was not the plan. The plan was to find out where the devil this gossip was coming from, not to kiss unmarried, unprotected, and surely strong enough to beat him in a pinch, young ladies.
“I-I should not have kissed—”
“I shouldn’t have—your wrist—”
They spoke together, awkward words mingling. Tension pulled Henry’s shoulders taut as his instinct—to leave immediately—warred against his better judgment.
He could not just ignore this. He was determined to stay, learn blacksmithing, and root out whether Minny Banfield was the source of his sister’s downfall.
And that was all. And that meant that somehow, Henry thought wretchedly, he would have to fix this.
“I apologize,” he said stiffly, taking another step back. When had this forge become so damned small?
Minny glanced up. “You apologize? For what?”
Why did the woman have to be so…so obstinate! “For kissing you.”
Henry had never expected to feel so unbalanced in the presence of a woman.
She had raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought you’d be apologizing for the real error.”
He stared. Error? God, what had he done now? Was there some sort of blacksmith code that prevented a man from—
“Reaching out like that taught you a…a lesson, I suppose,” Minny said, nodding meaningfully at his wrist.
Her quick thinking had reduced the burn to a mere red mark, but it still stung like blazes. He hadn’t noticed with Minny in his arms.
His stomach lurched. Not a good enough reason to pull her back into them.
“Right,” he said aloud. “Yes. I am sorry, Minny.”
Their eyes met, and he saw something there he had not expected. Hurt. Pain, unlike that currently throbbing his wrist. No, there was something else; pain he had apologized for the kiss?
“I think that’s probably enough work for one day,” she said quietly.
Henry nodded. Yes, he’d had enough: enough intoxicating pleasure, enough temptation. But he couldn’t stay away, couldn’t bring himself to leave her. Not yet.
“I would like to see you finish the iron hook, if that is acceptable,” he said quietly, lowering himself on the stool and praying his legs would be stronger by the time he rose again. “If you will permit me to stay and watch.”
Her hesitation was not unwarranted, but Henry hoped with every fiber of his being—
“Fine,” Minny said. “As long as you can promise to keep your hands off me.”
Henry smiled weakly. “I make no promises.”