One Steamed Night Read online

  Her cell buzzed with a text message.

  Are you there? Regina asked

  Mina smiled and typed, Yes, is the suit cleaned?

  Funny. What’s happening?

  Nothing yet.

  Have fun!

  I’d better.

  She tossed the phone on the bed and spotted a box lying beside it. Focusing on the envelope on top, she removed her jacket.

  Dear Ms. Davis,

  Welcome to London. I hope the flight was uneventful.

  Don’t be disturbed by the plainness of your room. It’s the beginning of your magical evening. Take some time to rest and watch a movie before the events begin. Call room service for any needs you have, that’s all part of your 1Night Stand package.

  Enjoy,

  Madame Evangeline

  1Night Stand

  Mina glanced around the rustic interior of her room, her imagination running wild with possibilities for that setting. A ship’s cabin, perhaps? A cabin in the woods? A spark of excitement invaded her. That might actually be fun.

  What could be in that box? Lifting the lid, she removed a pair of black silk pajamas and a folder containing a list of channels and available movies. Interesting. More fodder for the fantasy evening?

  Lack of sleep and jet lag took over and she yawned again, stretching her arms overhead. The plump bed looked awfully inviting. Stripping out of her clothes, she donned the gifted pajamas, then poured a glass of red wine from the brass cart.

  After snuggling under the thick comforter, she scanned the contents of the folder. Intriguing. The title of the list of movies was An Introduction to Steampunk.

  She vaguely knew the definition of steampunk—a Victorian setting where steam was the power of the day. There were jokes about it being when Goths discovered the color brown. Seemed there were always a lot of clockwork gadgets and steam-powered inventions. It all reminded her of Jules Verne.

  Wild Wild West with Will Smith

  The Three Musketeers with Orlando Bloom

  The Golden Compass with Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig.

  Hugo with Ben Kingsley

  Interesting choices. She turned on the TV and selected The Three Musketeers, wondering how a story originally from France would relate to a Victorian atmosphere. Then airships flew across the screen.

  ***

  A violent jerk of the bed sent Mina tumbling to the floor. She squinted through dim lighting, trying to orient herself. Where had that gas lantern hanging from the ceiling come from? I was in the bedroom of the hotel. Or was she? After watching movies, she’d evidently fallen asleep.

  The floor trembled as a roar sounded outside the room. What the hell was going on? Had terrorists attacked? Clutching the side of the bed, she struggled to her feet. Another boom, and the room shook again. Damn. The hotel must be falling apart.

  Mina held onto the bed post and scanned her surroundings. The flat screen TV had disappeared, the bathroom door gone as well. Only a ceramic chamber pot on the floor provided a means of relief. Eww. She had to be dreaming. Either that or she’d been kidnapped.

  When the floor steadied, she made her way to the wall and peered through what had been a window when she’d checked into the room, but had somehow become a brass-rimmed porthole. She gasped. Impossible! Outside, clouds rushed by and flying airships like she’d seen in the previous night’s movie, floated past. One of them fired a cannon in her direction.

  Blam!

  Her feet slid and she hit the floor, breathing fast. Whoa! A dream. It had to be a dream. Too much wine and movies. If I close my eyes, maybe it will all go away. She scrunched her eyelids together. Blam! Another explosion.

  Wait a minute. She no longer wore her black pajamas, instead she’d somehow been squeezed into a gold brocade bustier and leather pants with knee high boots. When had that happened? A leather belt hung low on her hips and contained a holster with a weird-looking weapon sprouting all sorts of levers and lenses. What was she supposed to do with that?

  Then it hit her. Steampunk. Her attire, the strange gun, airships—it all pointed to the introduction to steampunk movies provided to her last night. This had to be part of the 1Night Stand package.

  A banging on the door brought her to her feet. God, she hoped it was room service. Staggering across the tilted floor, she grabbed the handle. The aperture swung wide, revealing a man in a white ruffled shirt and brown pants leading to over-the-knee boots. A scabbard and sword hung at his hips. One hand rested on a pistol tucked into his belt.

  He reached for her hand. “Lady Mina, are you all right? Air pirates are attacking us.”

  This was clearly not room service. She stared at the bearded man who appeared to be over fifty. Surely he wasn’t her fantasy date. “Who are you?”

  His brown eyes narrowed in concern and he pulled her from the room. “Captain Elliot wants you on deck. If we’re hit, you’ll have a better chance of escape in one of the lifeboats.”

  “Just wait a....” She wanted to ask him about the outlandish setting for the date. How had Madame Eve come up with that particular scenario for her?

  The floor tilted again and only his firm grip kept her upright. One of her boots caught on an uneven plank sending her sprawling into a narrow wooden passage. Good Lord! What happened to the luxurious wide carpeted hall of the hotel? He yanked her to a flight of iron steps, and she stumbled up after him. At the top, a door opened. He helped her through, intruding on a scene of complete pandemonium. The action took place on some type of vessel resembling the sailing ships of yore. Crewmembers ran back and forth. At the rails, cannon blazed and recoiled to be reloaded.

  A cloud of gray smoke drifted by, clearing the air. Her breath caught in her throat and she clutched her chest, fear shooting through her. They traveled in a galleon, high above the ground. Over her head floated a large inflatable attached by a series of ropes. Madame Eve was a magician to create such reality.

  “This way,” her escort shouted above the din. He held tightly to her elbow and hurried to an aft deck a few steps above the main deck. “Cap’n. Here she is.”

  A tall man behind the ship’s wheel yelled, “Aye. Now, man the main engines. We need more steam.”

  Using both hands, she held onto the stair rail, staring, her mouth slack. The captain was the embodiment of all her fantasies. Broad-shouldered with muscular thighs and narrow hips. Long, blond hair hung to his shoulders. Dear Lord. This man belonged on the cover of a romance novel. That’s more like it.

  “My lady, please come up. We’re trying to fight off air pirates.” He extended a hand in her direction.

  She gulped in a breath. Smoke from the cannon swirled about her. The acrid scent stung the back of her throat and she choked.

  “What is all this?” she asked, wiping her tearing eyes.

  “Hurry.” With a wave of his hand, he motioned her to his side.

  A cannonball whizzed past her head and over the side. She screamed and ran up the steps.

  The captain’s arm encircled her waist, pulling her to his side. He wore goggles, a brown leather jacket and flight helmet. With his eyes covered, she could only guess at their expression. His tan pants were tucked into thigh-high boots. Like the other man, he sported a scabbard and sword, with a pistol in his belt.

  “Captain Ross, we scored a direct hit,” one of the men on deck shouted.

  His fellows roared their approval, raising hands in the air.

  “Don’t stop now, mates. There’s three more of them,” the man at her side shouted. He gazed down at her and grinned. “Don’t worry, my lady. Three-to-one, are odds I like.”

  “Who are they?” Her breath caught in her throat at the nearness of his handsome face.

  “Air pirates. No doubt they heard you were aboard and figured you’d have a fortune in jewels with you.” He gave her a saucy wink and squeezed her waist.

  “Why would they think that?” She wiggled in the tight embrace. Who is this man?

  “You’re the daughter of the prime
minister. It goes without saying.” He let go of the wheel and adjusted a lever on the panel before him, keeping her clamped to his side with his other hand. “But your father knew I’d make sure you were safe.”

  “Indeed.” She didn’t know what to say or do. Was this real? Had the mysterious Madame Eve concocted a way to reenact this adventure? Or did she walk in a dream?

  I gotta pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming. “Ouch.” Looks like I’m awake.

  “What are you doing?” His eyes narrowed.

  “Never mind. Are you sure we can fight off three of them?” Maybe against his firm, muscled chest, wasn’t such a bad place to be captured.

  With a hearty laugh, he replied, “I’m Captain Ross Brighton. You should know my reputation.”

  “Actually, I don’t. Maybe you could fill me in?” She raised a brow.

  A cannonball whizzed past them.

  “Enemy to port,” he yelled. His men fired cannon and cheered. Another hit. He turned to her. “You can’t be serious. You haven’t heard of me?” His eyes widened in disbelief.

  “No. I haven’t. Sorry.”

  “In the Royal Aero Force, I had sixteen kills to my name. Then I got kicked out after I wouldn’t attack a village in India because of the women and children. That story was reported in the newspapers.”

  She shook her head.

  “Then I single-handedly fought the French air-fleet when it came to defeat Queen Victoria on her Jubilee.”

  “That’s commendable.”

  He flipped up his goggles and scanned her face, his blue eyes quizzical. “You must be joking. Everyone knows me.”

  “I’ve led a very sheltered life.”

  “Hmm.” His expression became skeptical.

  “They’re going to board us,” the bearded man called.

  “Aye, Mister Colton. We’ll fight hand-to-hand.” The captain motioned to his men.

  An airship rose beside them. Men at the rail of the enemy vessel shouted and tossed grappling hooks across the gap between ships. A few grabbed lines and launched over the side.

  “At ’em, men. Fight for your ship and country. God save the Queen.” Ross released her waist, unsheathed his sword, and stripped off his helmet and goggles. “Stay up here, my lady. We’ll protect you.”

  She retreated until she encountered the bulkhead, her heart thumping. Her dashing captain rushed to the deck and dispatched attackers right and left. Shouts, smoke and the clang of blades filled the ether.

  A man holding a line leapt from the attacking ship and landed in front of her. She screamed and jumped, stumbling backward. His black beard, mutton-chop sideburns and bushy eyebrows nearly obscured his face. But she couldn’t miss his snarling lips.

  “There you are, missy. We’ll have you and your fortune, too.” He latched onto her waist. Before she could think of struggle, they’d swung over the rail to the enemy ship.

  The ground below looked miles away, and her heart skipped a beat.

  A roar of outrage sounded from the crew of her ship at her capture.

  “What do you want with me?” She pushed at the man’s chest, hating his foul, garlicky breath.

  He leered, leaning close. “We want what any man wants, missy. Surrender the booty.”

  She slammed her palm into his nose, and he reeled backward with a blood curdling cry. Red gushed beneath the hand covering his face.

  “Hold on, my lady. I’m coming.” Ross found a rope and sailed over the rails, then rushed to her side. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. Let’s get out of here.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  He scooped her in one arm, grabbed the rope with the other, and they swooshed over to their ship. The crew beat back the invaders and chopped the lines holding the ships together.

  “Fire,” roared Ross.

  Cannons boomed, the pirate ship erupted in flames, and began to sink.

  Mina’s knees gave way and she sagged against Ross. He supported her, his muscular arm pressing her tightly to his firm chest.

  “The other ships are retreating,” Mister Colton reported.

  The crew set up a deafening cheer.

  “Good job, men,” Ross said. “A barrel of rum for you tonight, my brave lads.”

  They cheered again.

  His finely chiseled features mesmerized her. When his blue eyes lit with excitement and victory, a smile curved his sensual lips. Man, he’s hot. It didn’t matter if she was dreaming or not. She planned to enjoy every minute of this encounter.

  “My lady, I apologize for this inconvenience in your trip.” He bowed and took her hand, planting a kiss on her fingertips. “Allow me to make amends by serving you dinner in my cabin.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Captain.” She inclined her head. Hopefully she wouldn’t wake up before they’d had their meal. It would be a pleasure spending more time with him.

  “Excellent. Shall we say, in one hour?”

  “Of course.”

  “Mister Colton, please escort Lady Davis to her cabin so she can prepare for dinner.”

  “My pleasure, Cap’n.” The bearded man beamed at her and motioned her to follow.

  “A splendid victory, Mister Colton,” she said as they descended the steps.

  “Aye. That is was, my lady.” His brown eyes sparkled. “Nothing like a good fight to make the blood sing.”

  What an interesting saying, to make the blood sing. She liked that. It described her reaction to the battle. Despite the threat, she hadn’t been afraid...she’d been excited. Alive. At a point in the fight, she’d wished she had her own sword to join the fight. How odd.

  “Here you go, my lady.” He opened the cabin door for her. “I’ll be back to take you to the captain’s quarters in an hour.”

  “Thank you, Mister Colton.”

  When she entered the room, she paused. This wasn’t a room in the Castillo hotel, it was a berth on an airship. The rascally captain and crew named her Lady Mina Davis, daughter of the prime minister, on a trip somewhere. Excitement bubbled in her chest. Where is this going?

  Her luggage appeared to have disappeared. However a deep green satin gown waited, draped across the bed. She removed her clothes and examined the lovely dress. It consisted of a stiff bustier top, a long satin skirt, and a bustle in back with a trailing train.

  The side table held long black velvet gloves, a peacock feather decoration for her hair and emerald jewelry. She shivered in anticipation.

  After washing in a basin of cool water, she donned the extravagant attire. The smooth brush of satin against her skin provided an unexpected sensual pleasure. Truly, she’d been born in the wrong century. The formal gown was fantastic. Another fantasy fulfilled.

  Her mind floated to Captain Ross. He portrayed the hero of her dreams—manly, but a gentleman. He’d fought air-pirates and rescued her. Now she’d join him for a dinner in his cabin. The idea of being alone with him sent shivers up her spine.

  She pinched her cheeks to give them a blush, as she’d read in Jane Austin’s books. Her pulse raced, imagining an intimate encounter with the dashing captain.

  A knock on her door announced Mister Colton’s arrival. “Ready, my lady?”

  She clutched a palm to her chest and calmed her breathing. “Yes, Mister Colton. Thank you.”

  He held out his arm, and she tucked her hand in its crook.

  “Ah, Lady Davis.” Captain Ross greeted her and swept an arm for her to enter when they reached his cabin. “Please join me.”

  His first mate gave her a bow and departed.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?” His gaze took in her appearance, head to toe.

  Heat flushed her cheeks. “Yes. That would be lovely.”

  Wandering into the room, she glanced at his belongings with interest. A small table occupied the center of the cabin, and an oil lamp hung from the ceiling over it, providing the only light.

  Another long table along the far wall held rolls of charts and maps along with a brass sextant, a comp
ass and various other devices she couldn’t identify. His bunk was a double, set into a recess.

  He handed her a glass of ruby liquid and the look in his warm blue eyes drew her to him. “I apologize again for the inconvenience of the attack. There should be no other threats to your journey.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your protection.” She sipped the wine. An excellent vintage. While she enjoyed the drink, she strolled to the table, staring at the maps. “Where are we, exactly?”

  He moved to her side and heat from his body invaded hers. A glance up at his face made her realize he had to be at least six-foot-four.

  “Here.” He pointed to the map, indicating an area east of London. “We’ll be in France by tomorrow.”

  “France?” Why would the prime minister’s daughter travel to a foreign country?

  “Yes. Although your father feared the French request for a treaty might be a ploy to lure you there for an attack.” Ross poured his own glass and took a drink.

  “You think the air pirates might have been part of a double-cross?”

  “It’s possible.” After a moment of hesitation, he crossed to her side, his expression kind. “I’m afraid you may still be in danger once you’re on the ground.”

  She sipped her wine, considering her options. If she confronted him and demanded an answer about his involvement with Madame Eve, it would ruin the ambiance. If she pinched herself again and woke up, she’d miss what might be a very pleasant dream. At that point, she decided to play along and enjoy the ride.

  “I trust you will protect me, Captain,” she said.

  “With my life, my lady.” His expression shone with sincerity and conviction.

  “I thank you.” She inclined her head in what she hoped to be a regal manner. “Now, what’s for dinner? Fighting air-pirates made me hungry.”

  A grin curved his lips and he motioned to the table. A roast duck on a platter surrounded by root vegetables took up the center space. “Please have a seat.”