Iron Dominance by Cari Silverwood

happened.
    “What’s wrong?” Theo tugged on her hair.
    “Nothing.”
    Right now, everything was so wonderful, yet how well did she know him? One misstep and perhaps he might throw her to the dogs, or to Dankyo. She walked a tightrope over a chasm that went straight to hell.
    But she liked it here. She liked Theo, and, oh, what he conjured from her body, she liked that too. This was the man she would have wished for, if she’d ever dreamed of rescue. Her notion of traveling to the Brito-Gallic League in disguise, hoping she could survive there—a half-baked fantasy, a dream. Here was real.
    Yet, already, she’d lied to him, saying she was a bodyguard. If she told him they’d trained her to kill, it might turn him against her. No. She could never tell him. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and choked out the words, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to talk about things. I can’t !” Though she strained to stop herself, her body shook.
    “Shh. You don’t have to talk. Oh, Claire, whatever is wrong, I’m sure I can help you fix it.”
    Which, of course, only made things worse.
    “Come.” He heaved himself off the lounge and hauled her up after him. “This couch is far too uncomfortable.” He tucked his arm around her. “We’ll go to my bedroom.”
    That set her heart pitter-pattering all over again. Her untied pants threatened to tumble to her ankles.
    “Wait.” She secured them with a bow. Theo took her hand, squeezed it.
    When he reached for the doorknob and turned it, she tensed. Outside would be others, people who would look at her and wonder what had gone on in this room. Though she’d rather face swords and bullets, she squared her shoulders. Let them wonder.
    Theo never wavered. Either side of the door were two guards, and down the hallway sitting on a timber bench beneath a triptych of oil paintings were Dankyo and two more guards armed with repeater gauss guns. They all leaped to attention. Did Dankyo never sleep?
    “Sir!” He stalked toward them, his black stare flicking from her to where Theo draped his arm around her and back to Theo. “Is this advis—”
    “Yes. It is,” interjected Theo.
    Dankyo slowed then stopped a yard away. His hand went to his belt; he drew an inch of his sword from the scabbard and bowed slightly. “Perhaps sir would like my resignation? I no longer feel I am able to fulfill my duties regarding your safety.”
    “No.” Theo’s single word crackled with menace. “I do not wish your resignation, Dankyo. I wish your compliance with my orders.”
    His eyes on Theo despite the bow, he blinked for a moment or two, then straightened. Dankyo slid the sword back into the scabbard. “Of course. Sir. I always have your safety and best interests at heart. I apologize absolutely for my behavior if it offended you.”
    “Thank you. Claire is not your enemy, Dankyo. Is that clear?”
    “Yes. It is clear. Sir.”
    “Good. Go to bed, Dankyo. These two guards only for my door.”
    But even she could see the reluctance in how Dankyo responded. And when Theo turned and headed down the corridor, she watched the glitter of hate reappear in Dankyo’s eyes. With her hand held by Theo, she had no choice but to follow, though it felt as if someone aimed a rifle at her back, so vehement was Dankyo’s gaze.
    Up the curving flight of stairs they went, past the sensual sculpture that had caught her eye an eon ago, along the curved passageway overlooking the foyer, to a double set of doors made of timber and riveted metal.
    Just inside the doors was a minifoyer. Paintings hung on the walls. A display cabinet was filled with objets d’art. The middle shelf held an oversize pistol she didn’t recognize with a bronzed revolving barrel and a blue steel grip.
    Theo tugged on her hand.
    The bedroom was enormous. Two standing voltaic lamps graced either side of a large four-poster bed with posts of ebon and brass inlay. The red and black oriental quilt had been folded back in