Page 62 of Infamous

‘You have done yourself an injury,’ Nash said, sounding closer than expected. He leaned over her and took up her hand, turning it towards the lamp. ‘Look at that. An entire ship’s mast has impaled you, and you are being so terribly brave about it.’

‘A ship .?.?. for ants,’ Eddie said, laughing at herself and delighting in the way Nash’s dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her.

‘Stop laughing, I am trying to perform a very delicate surgery to save your limbs from wood-rot and .?.?. you know .?.?. worms. All right, close your eyes and think of England.’

‘I’d rather .?.?. think of .?.?. Greece.Oof. Is it out?’

‘It is,’ said Nash. ‘But it was acting rather like a stopper, and now you are .?.?. unstopped.’

Eddie opened one eye and squinted through it. There was quite an enthusiastic amount of blood for such a small wound. Nash had been studying her finger intently; he suddenly lifted it to his lips, and slipped it into his mouth. She watched him, distantly appalled and strangely fascinated, as he sucked gently on it and then removed it.

‘Had to suck out all the poison,’ he said, still leaning over her. His cravat was hanging loose. The end of it brushed against her neck, and she shivered. ‘No harm done. Only that I am a creature of the night now, and can only be sated by the blood of maidens, laid out wantonly in the moonlight .?.?.’

‘Am not wanton,’ Eddie said, through a strangely dry mouth. ‘Just resting. You were right about the other thing, though.’

‘What thing?’

‘You know .?.?. that you’re .?.?. a night beast.’

‘Anight beast?’ Nash said, outraged and delighted, catching Eddie by both wrists so that she laughed and squirmed to try to escape him. ‘Anight beast, indeed.’

‘Well, you said something like that .?.?. It’s not my fault I can’t think, I am full of wine and pipe and .?.?.’

‘’Tis the wine that leads me on, the wild wine that sets the wisest man to .?.?.laugh, to .?.?. to dance .?.?. damn, I can never remember Homer’s particulars.’

Somehow, in their brief scuffle, Nash had crawled almost entirely on top of her. Eddie was suddenly very aware of the weight and the warmth of him; at the exact moment that it came to her notice, Nash stilled and looked very serious. He unpinned her hands and brushed her hair away from her flushed face, his fingers tracing delicately over her brow and behind her ear.

‘It even tempts him to blurt out stories better never told.’

Eddie blinked up at him, his mussed hair crowned with constellations, and forgot that there were a hundred reasons why they weren’t supposed to be doing this.

‘What kinds of stories?’

‘Close your eyes and I’ll tell you one.’

She let her eyes close, and a moment later Nash was kissing her.

It wasn’t familiar and natural, like it had been with Rose, the flaring to life of something they had been shoring up and stoking for years; if kissing Nash had been a fire, alarm bells would have already been ringing, such was the disconcerting speed and ferocity of blaze. He was already pressing her into the dock, one hand clenched at her waist, the other tangling in her hair. He tilted her head back so that he could work her open, sweep his tongue into her mouth, bite down on her lip until she tasted blood. She heard herself gasp and wondered if she should be embarrassed, but he answered with a pained hitch of breath and then ran his fingers down to her thigh, his hand fisting in the fabric of her skirts.

‘Ah,’ Eddie managed, when he broke away from her mouth to kiss her neck, ‘Are we .?.?.? Are weentirelysure this is—’

‘Shhhh, Edie,’ Nash crooned, sounding even drunker than before, his voice thready and hoarse. ‘Hush now. You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s right. It’s good, it’s so good .?.?.’

Eddie knew that wasn’t true. This was another woman’s husband. There were plenty of names for ladies who kissed husbands that did not belong to them, but it was very difficult to recall them at present, what with the cold night air and the blinking stars and the fact that Nash had lowered his head and was now kissing insistently along her clavicle, his hand making little circles just below her hip. The combination was completely disarming, and rendered even more potent by whatever drug was currently racing through her blood.

Nash Nicholsonwas kissing her. It was unbelievable. He smelled like lake water and wine, tobacco smoke and damp wood. It felt like he was touching her everywhere at once.

‘Are you cold?’ Nash muttered against her neck, his breath skittering across her exposed skin and making her jump.

‘No,’ said Eddie. ‘Yes. Hard to say.’

‘Here.’ Nash sat up on his knees to tug off his coat; Eddie sat up, too, so that he could put it around her shoulders. He helped her into the arms and then pulled her in close by the collar, kneeling between her legs. Their noses were almost touching. ‘Come to Greece with me.’

‘What?’ said Eddie, bewildered. ‘When?’

‘Who cares? Tomorrow. Next week. I shall charter us a ship.’

‘Well, I .?.?.’