Miss Minnie and the Brass Pluggit Read online

  She nodded. “It makes sense. Small communities often develop the best system for themselves without any outside help.”

  Pierce stood and waved Minnie to an overstuffed chair near the windows. “Will you join me here? The sunset can be quite stunning and I’m not one to require an after-dinner port in solitary splendor.”

  She laughed and willingly changed her seat. “This is most pleasant.” Dusk moved a small rolling cart of drinks near Pierce. “And convenient too. Dusk, you are a treasure.”

  “Thank you, Miss Minnie.” The half of his face she could see curved into a smile. “Anything else, sir?”

  “That’ll do it. You’re all clear.”

  “Good night then.” Dusk turned and left, using the staircase.

  “Does anyone use the mechanical lift?” She turned an inquiring eye to Pierce.

  “Now and again. But honestly? It’s more for show.”

  “I thought so.” She laughed. “Boys and toys.”

  “Of course.”

  Silence fell, a comfortable silence that spoke of mutual appreciation, relaxation and one of the most seductively soothing vistas—the sea.

  Minnie’s thoughts roamed freely, darting from one place to another, before settling on those uppermost in her mind. “She was strangled. Were the others? Were there any signs of…well, any other injuries?”

  He took a moment before answering. “Yes, she was strangled. And yes the others were, as well. The first had been in the water for quite some time.”

  Minnie closed her eyes against the image.

  “I’m sorry.” He spoke quietly.

  “No. Don’t apologize. I need to know. It will help to have all the facts we have at our command right now. We cannot move forward without them.”

  “Very well. The first was strangled but we simply could not tell if there were other injuries. The next two—both strangled. And yes. There were, as you put it, other injuries.”

  “They were raped?”

  “Repeatedly.”

  Minnie swallowed. “Ah.” She absorbed the implications. “A man then. Or men. With the strength to restrain these women as well as strangle them.”

  “Yes.”

  “And disposing of the bodies in the sea would mean someone local?”

  “Possibly. But I have another theory.”

  Minnie glanced at his face, which was calm and expressionless. But she was learning more about him each minute they spent together. There was a fierce tension beneath the skin, an untapped savagery perhaps. Something that was seriously offended by these crimes.

  “And that theory would be…”

  “Ships. They’re being tossed away from ships.”

  She frowned and once again worked her way through the various possibilities. “You mean they’re recruited, for lack of a better word? Paid to go on board as prostitutes for the voyage and then murdered?”

  “Something like that.”

  The sun set in a blaze of glory, there one moment and gone the next. The room darkened yet neither moved to light a lamp.

  “That’s a likely scenario, I suppose.” She puzzled it through. “Where would they go to recruit women? If we could find that location, it would be a place to start looking for whoever is hiring them.”

  “I did wonder about that myself.” He stretched out his arm to put his glass down and pour a little more liquid. “Would you care for brandy?”

  “Thank you but no.” Her mind was still turning over what he’d suggested. “Why don’t they get rid of these bodies further out to sea?”

  “I don’t know. I’m simply chewing over theories here.”

  She sighed. “We really do need information, don’t we?”

  He glanced at her. “We?”

  She lifted her chin challengingly. “Yes. We.”

  “Just checking,” he flashed back with a grin. “And you’re right. We do need more information. With luck, now that we’ve sent out some requests, it’ll start coming in.”

  “Agreed.”

  The moon was rising now, casting a soft glow through the room. It was almost never dark when one had the ocean as one’s backyard, realized Minnie.

  Pierce stirred and stood. “It’s been a long day. And tomorrow may well be even longer.” He held out his hand. “I’ll take you to your room.”

  Minnie rose. “There’s no need.” But she placed her hand in his, something inside her eager for the touch of his skin.

  “I have a suggestion.” He pulled her nearer.

  “I’m sure you do.” She smiled at the shadow of his face.

  “Listen before you assume,” he scolded her gently. “You and I—we’ve acknowledged something going on between us. Some very distinct attraction.”

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  “So my suggestion is in the nature of a small experiment.”

  “Oh?”

  “A kiss. A simple kiss. To see if that chemistry is truly present or if we’re imagining it.”

  The moonlight danced off the brass railing beneath the window and ricocheted around the room. It was a tiny scattering of rainbows, barely visible yet casting a magical glow over her surroundings and the man still holding her hand.

  Minnie caught her breath, knowing this was what she’d wanted the first minute she’d set eyes on him.

  She wanted to see if they fit.

  “I’m definitely in favor of experimentation.” She whispered the words as his grasp tightened and he drew her against his chest.

  Her free hand slid up over the silk of his shirt to touch the warm skin of his neck even as she felt him tug the other one behind his back, locking her to his body.

  His arm encircled her, his heat engulfed her and her brain acknowledged the result of this experiment.

  They fit.

  When his lips came down to claim hers, she forgot about theories, experiments, murders and mayhem. She forgot her own name.

  She just fell into him.

  The plants were doing well under his delicate supervision, decided Dusk.

  Each evening he’d check the rows of seedlings, winnowing out those weaker ones, giving the stronger ones room to reach their full potential.

  The larger pots needed a little water, a pinch back here and there, and a compliment to keep them cheerful and blooming. They’d be producing plenty of ripe red deliciousness before too long.

  So they were just tomato plants, but they were his tomato plants and thus deserving of his complete attention.

  His half mask lay forgotten on a table near the greenhouse door. It had become so much a part of his life in the past two years that his routine was ingrained now, a reflex action on his part. Enter the greenhouse after dinner—remove the mask. Retire to his rooms—take the mask with him. Rise in the morning—don the mask with the clothing.

  Some might have viewed it as an annoyance. To Dusk it was a valuable asset that had enabled him to rejoin his fellow humans.

  The scars beneath were just too awful to exhibit. He’d spent five years hiding, barely speaking with another human being. Certainly not interacting with them. On the rare occasions he’d had to venture out, children had screamed, women gasped and even strong men had turned away.

  All because of a vat of acid and a poorly timed experiment by his previous master. His late master.

  It could have been worse, certainly. Dusk could have ended up a steaming pile of acid-wilted flesh. Instead, he had screamed out the pain for a month or so, waiting for his savaged face to accomplish something in the way of healing.

  Eventually, tucked away in a private hospital courtesy of his late master’s son and a guilty conscience, Dusk had finally bid farewell to the pain. And realized his life would never be the same.

  The day Pierce Lowell had bumped into him had marked the turning point, the opening of a door. Neither man had looked back since.

  The mask was part of who Dusk was now. He truly didn’t even think about it that much, other than to make sure it was clean and undamaged.

>   His tomato plants didn’t care about scars, and the soft light in the greenhouse was adequate for his horticultural work, simple as it was. A nip here, a pinch there and the trickle of liquid from his watering can.

  It was delightful tranquility, a place to breathe freely, and Dusk couldn’t begin to find words to thank whatever deity had landed him where he was. Tucked away in the Brass Pluggit. Which had to be some sort of country joke, but nobody had ever explained it, since the name seemed to have no origin that anyone knew of.

  Another of those charming rural mysteries, thought Dusk, as he nipped off an unnecessary yellow flower.

  Above him, the lighthouse soared skyward, the protruding ring marking the living area. Now the moon had risen enough to reflect from the many shining surfaces within, giving it the soft glow of starlight. There was still a little while before the light automatically turned on—this was the time when it was surreally beautiful rather than functional.

  To his surprise, he could make out two figures, silhouetted for a moment by a stray beam of light. He should have been more surprised when the figures merged into one.

  He wasn’t. It didn’t take a brilliant scientist to see the attraction leaping to life between Pierce and Miss Minnie.

  Respectfully, Dusk turned away. He didn’t blame Pierce one bit. Miss Minnie was a stunning woman and he’d felt her attraction when they’d bumped into each other. Had she encouraged him at all, she’d be naked and screaming out his name right this moment.

  Dusk wasn’t a big believer in slow seduction. He preferred to get right down to it. And in spite of his scars, he’d been lucky enough to find one or two women who felt the same way. But they weren’t exactly thick on the ground.

  Miss Minnie would be one, he knew. She was more than just beautiful, she was smart. And a lady through and through. Titles didn’t make the woman, in Dusk’s opinion. It was something more fundamental. Something innate. And that something had put a gentle expression in her eyes when she’d first seen him.

  That was a lady.

  So he could understand his master’s interest and wished him well with his amorous endeavors. Living in quarters that were on ground level and only accessed through the greenhouse, Dusk didn’t worry about being disturbed by any screams of pleasure that might float out on the night air.

  He brushed some dirt from his hands and rinsed them in the water barrel near the doorway to the greenhouse, drying them on a cloth he kept there for that purpose. “Well, my lovelies. Rest up. Should be more sunshine tomorrow, although there’s a whisper of rain on the wind. That’ll keep our barrel full.”

  He picked up his mask and smiled at his own absurdity. His nightly farewell to his green troops amused him, but he made sure he spoke the same words in spite of it.

  There was comfort in the ritual. A reinforced sense of belonging, a deepened commitment to this time and this place. Dusk shook his head at his whimsical train of thought and turned off the lights.

  Chapter Four

  Minnie tossed restlessly in the bed, turning from one side to the other, stretching her legs then bending her knees…there seemed to be no comfortable spot where she could find peace.

  It had nothing to do with the sheets, or the fact she was alone in a different place. Neither of those things bothered her, since she was a seasoned traveler with the ability to sleep most anywhere.

  Nor was it the moonlight coming in through the small window. The guestrooms were below the living area and much more square in shape, probably in order to allow visitors a sense of normalcy at night. The decor was appropriate, the accommodations quite comfortable.

  It wasn’t her surroundings that were keeping her awake.

  It was the thought of her host.

  She had moved willingly into his embrace, wanting his kiss so desperately that the word yearning could have been applied to her emotions at that moment.

  The reality of the touch of his lips—well, it had exploded into her with all the force of a volcano erupting into chaos.

  He’d barely brushed her mouth at first, then it had happened. He’d groaned, she’d gasped, and they were locked together, teeth clashing, mouths sucking and devouring as their tongues dueled and learned and tasted…

  Her body ached, her breasts became tender and swollen and she could feel the moisture flowering at the junction of her thighs.

  She would have stripped naked and taken him inside her without hesitation. Right there, in the living room, in front of the entire Atlantic Ocean—or at least a small part of it.

  He was similarly affected—if the large hard bulge in his trousers was any indication. He signaled his intentions by thrusting it against her and she knew she’d willingly parted her legs and thrust back.

  God, it had been erotic. Some mad unleashed lust, pouring over them both like the moonlight, driving sanity away with a single touch and replacing it with pure need. She had no idea when his hands had found her breasts, only that she was moaning into his mouth as he thumbed a nipple to sensitive, almost painful hardness with urgency.

  Neither did she realize she’d slipped her own hand down between them and sought his erection, enfolding as much as she could in her grasp and squeezing it firmly through his trousers.

  Exactly when they both became aware of what they were doing—well, she wasn’t sure of that either.

  But at some point they’d torn their mouths apart and panted, staring at each other in the dim light. She was afraid to move, afraid they’d take that final leap and spend the night naked, doing what they both wanted…fucking each other into unconsciousness.

  Minnie ached with the urge to do just that. But she wasn’t an idiot nor a desperate youngster. Her experience stood her in good stead and although it was a challenging battle, she recaptured control of her wayward impulses.

  Pierce was in much the same state. His voice was low, edgy, harsh with his desire. “Not yet. But soon.”

  “Yes.” She whispered the word back, pushing it around a lump of lust that had stuck in her throat. “Soon.”

  And she’d fled, shamelessly running from him, from his heat, from the need that had erupted between them. She’d fled from the knowledge that he might be more than she could handle and they’d both find themselves enmeshed in something beyond their imaginings.

  The mere idea that such a thing might happen scared Minnie to bits and she ran away before she could do something really stupid.

  Like grab him, tear his clothes off and sate desires she didn’t even know she possessed.

  She rose on one elbow, punched the pillow and lay back down again, trying to breathe calmly and relieve the frustration racking her every nerve ending. This was silly, she told herself. Juvenile even. She’d certainly been kissed before. And she’d been touched before.

  She enjoyed sex, enjoyed the intimacy of lovemaking and even enjoyed pushing a few boundaries now and again. She wasn’t averse to trying new positions and found the occasional spanking to be very erotic and arousing.

  She liked exploring men, learning what they liked and didn’t like. It had all been rather fun, she mused, a most pleasant end to an evening, an enhancement to a relationship, and now and again quite breathtaking.

  But this was the first time a simple kiss had nearly blown the ears off her head. The first time the touch of a man’s lips, a man’s hands, had ratcheted up her arousal to the point where she was ready to lie down and spread her legs while begging him to fuck her blind.

  She wanted him. In the bluntest and most fundamental ways. She wanted to really fuck him and have him fuck her back. There was no ladylike delicacy here, no gentle seduction or polite euphemisms. There were no euphemisms at all for what she was feeling right this minute.

  Her body crawled with lust, her sex was moist, her nipples hard. Sweat dewed her skin, and it was as if hot needles danced low in her belly. Almost painful, making her wince and bite her lower lip, this ravaging need for a man she’d known barely a day.

  It was unheard of, unforese
en and she should have been terrified.

  She wasn’t. She was elated and wondering if she could indeed wait for the right moment. All the sensations plaguing her were annoying, yes. But the root cause—Pierce Lowell—was anything but.

  Yes, she was sexually frustrated right now. But it was a good thing. Not one of her lovers had ever brought her to this point with a kiss.

  Pierce was the first. And she knew, deep inside, that sex with him, lying beneath him, on top of him, however they chose to fuck each other—she knew it would be unique.

  Lost in her own little whirlpool of turbulent emotions, it took a few seconds for her to realize that something strange was irritating her skin. She stilled and focused—the silk of her nightgown was clinging to her body all of a sudden.

  Kicking off what was left of the sheets, she lay motionless for a moment, her attention now turned outward. There was the tiniest hum coming from somewhere and every ten or fifteen seconds, a minute vibration. If she hadn’t held her breath, she wouldn’t have noticed it.

  The lighthouse? Was the light rotating and could that be causing these odd phenomena?

  She slid from the bed and walked to the window. There—the sweep of a beam, but far away. Even though the light source was atop the building in which she now stood, the illumination was focused a long distance away. There was but a thin line of light passing around the Brass Pluggit. It didn’t open out until perhaps a quarter of a mile or so. Which was just as it should be, for a lighthouse.

  And the rotation was wrong. It didn’t match up with that little hum Minnie could now feel through the soles of her bare feet.

  Curious, she grabbed her thin dressing gown and wrapped it around herself, covering her fragile silk nightgown and tying it at her waist. Soft slippers protected her toes, and thus arrayed, she crept from her room to track down the source of that vibration.

  Logic told her it was coming from Pierce’s laboratory, so that was the direction she took, down two more flights of stairs and arriving at the door leading to his sanctum.

  The hum was louder—still little more than a murmur—but to her excellent hearing it was quite distinct. Cautiously, and as silently as possible, she crept to the door and turned the knob. There was no squeak or rattle as she pushed it open, only a sudden stream of soft green light.