Free Steamlust by Kristina Wright

buttons of his greatcoat accentuating the slight rise and fall of his even breaths. Miranda knew it was impossible to see the metal plate that surely covered a generous portion of his chest. Nor would it ever be likely for her to run her fingers around the hard ridge of skin that bound it to the muscle beneath.
    “Lady Miranda.”
    Shaking her head, Miranda hoped her blush would be lost in the dim light of the room. Absently, she fingered where her computer had been moments earlier, missing her touchstone. “Of course, Captain. It’s your preference.”
    Miranda wasn’t sure she’d be able to get through the entire debriefing without her knees buckling. She quickly moved to the leather-back chair in the corner and perched on its edge. The deep seat threatened to swallow her, throwing her off guard as she slid back several inches across its smooth surface. The motion pulled at her skirts, tightening the corset across her sensitive breasts. Lord, she felt as if she was the spectacle in the room.
    Clearing her throat, she met his gaze evenly and refused to give in to her own cowardice. “We finally cracked the French spy code and found a weakness in their defense grid. The Admiralty wishes to exploit their discovery as quickly as we are able, lest they discover what we have done. I have orders for you and your airfleet to bomb their fleet amassing on the coast of Le Havre. We plan to destroy the French landing strip, along with their ships. With one strategic attack, we can end this war.”
    The captain nodded once, his crystal blue eyes never once breaking contact. “Who broke the cipher?”
    Of course he would ask that . Miranda fingered the lace around the waist of her skirts. “As you are well aware, His Majesty employs a team of analysts and spies who ferreted
out the relevant information. It was simply a matter of—”
    “Who?”
    His eyes tracked down her length and back to her face, and Miranda looked away to glance into the fire. “I was the major contributor in breaking their code, as I’m sure you have already guessed.”
    The captain stared at her for several long moments, before he finally cleared his throat and frowned. “Then I have no doubt the details are all in order.”
    He held out his hand, waiting for the dossier he knew she had secured in the deep pocket hidden in her skirts. Miranda was a creature of habit—one he knew intimately. Ignoring the sudden burst of warmth on her face, she rose to her feet. Miranda pulled the folded leather pouch free from its hiding spot and squeezed its warm bulk before gently pressing it into his hands.
    “You’ll find all the details within.” Miranda resisted the urge to bite her bottom lip when the captain brushed his finger down the length of hers.
    He’s dead. Dead and not mine anymore.
    “Are you sure you don’t wish me to review the details with you, Captain? You may have a suggestion for how to improve the—”
    “Lady Miranda,” he said in a voice so soft it would have been easy to miss it. “Of all His Majesty’s analysts, his code breakers and spies, I only trust you.”
    Tears burned the back of her eyes as the steady ticking of his heart filled the silence. “You shouldn’t.”
    “But I do.” The captain stepped away and made a direct line for the door. “Please inform His Majesty the Second Battalion Airfleet will make English skies safe once more.”
    Miranda could hear the ticking of his heart long after he’d left.

    The wind whipped up, sending her skirts flapping as she continued the steady climb up the steep stairway to the launch deck. Miranda pulled up the military points of her jacket in hopes of hiding her identity as long as possible. The French would love to get their hands on her, or more aptly, her brain, if given half an opportunity. Her ability to break down the tactical significance of each move the French had made to date was a thorn the opposing military force had been vocal in wanting to remove.
    They’d only