The Iron Duke by Meljean Brook

he spoke, his detachment turned to speculation, but his gaze never wavered from her face. “I can offer you enough that you’d be able to go anywhere you’d like, too.”
    Anger and unease mixed with surprise. He’d listened to her conversation with Anne? She’d have to be careful never to reveal anything of herself in his vicinity again, not if he’d use it against her.
    “I’m happy where I am,” she said. “Except I’d rather be ascending.”
    His short laugh made her stomach drop, her fingers tighten on her weapons. He crossed the lift in two strides, each step rattling the cage around them. Mina held her ground. He stopped with only a few inches between them—and blast his monstrous height, the top of her head barely reached his shoulder.
    What did he mean to prove by stopping so close? Did he intend for Mina to tilt her head back, making it appear as if she lifted herself to his kiss? Resolutely, she stared ahead at the small brass buckles that fastened his waistcoat—and suddenly realized that her refusal to look up made her seem afraid.
    No matter what her response was, she couldn’t win.
    She stiffened as his palm cupped her nape. Hard fingers tilted her chin up; he lowered his head. Mina jerked her face to the side. She felt his rough laughter against her neck, the gentle touch of his lips to her throat. His hand tightened in her hair, holding her still as he inhaled, as if drawing in her scent.
    Tremors started low in her belly. Fear, she recognized. Anger, she welcomed. But not the burn beneath her skin, so similar to when he’d taken her glove.
    He lifted his head, but didn’t release her. His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “You will accept me. And now I will know you, even if you come to me in the dark.”
    Know her? Arrogant, insufferable knacker. He knew nothing about her.
    And she didn’t need her weapons to get him away from her. Not when he was so stupid as to come this close.
    Her hand shot to the front of his breeches, making claws of her fingers and trapping his genitals in a tight grip. He froze. As if testing, she hefted the firm weight she found. Heavy, but so very delicate.
    She bared her teeth. “And even in the dark, now I’ll know that I’m ripping off the right cods.”
    His eyes narrowed, and the hot interest she saw in his gaze sent shivers skittering down her spine. That wasn’t just business now. She tightened her grip.
    “Back away from me, Your Grace.”
    He suddenly grinned. The thick flesh beneath his breeches stirred, hardening against her palm. Mina snatched her hand away.
    The duke stepped back—but not, Mina thought, in retreat. He looked too amused and too self-satisfied for that. Wary, she watched him return to the opposite side of the lift and throw the lever forward.
    “I’d have offered you a job.”
    Mina blinked. “What?”
    “Make no mistake, inspector: I intend to have you under me, in one way or another. It didn’t need to be in my bed, though that was my preference. But if you refused me, I planned to offer you a position on my staff, with a salary only a fool would turn down.”
    As much as Mina loved her work, she wasn’t a fool. And she could tolerate five years of employment by an insufferable knacker—time enough for her mother to pay off the Blacksmith, for Henry to make a go of their Northampton estate, for Andrew to buy a lieutenant’s commission. When she and her family had a comfortable cushion and no longer pinched every penny, the dead would still be waiting at the end of it, and she could return to the police force.
    “What position?”
    “My interests span six continents. We’d have found something that suited your talents.” He shrugged. “But it no longer matters, inspector. Only your bed will do now.”
    Damn and blast. Jaw set, Mina faced forward, staring blindly out over the gate. Why did he still intend to pursue her? Somehow, she’d made a critical error. She wouldn’t have thought that threatening a man’s