Excerpt of Broken Promises by J.K. Coi

Although Jasper made no sound as he stopped in the
doorway behind her, she knew she wasn’t alone any longer.
His presence eased her melancholy. She squared her
shoulders and breathed in deeply, letting the familiar
combination of lemon-scented soap and the woodsy cologne
she’d given him for his birthday wrap her in comfort like
a warm blanket.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going into
town today.” Her husky voice didn’t crack on the words as
they usually did. In fact, lately her throat felt less
like she’d swallowed a handful of nails and almost…
normal, but it was still a good thing she’d never been a
singer as well as a dancer.

“What are you doing here, love?” He moved closer. His
hand caressed her arm, upward over the sleeve of her
white lawn shirt to her shoulder, knuckles grazing the
swell of her breast along the way. “John told me you
asked him to find a trunk and pack up your studio to make
way for new equipment.”

“Yes.” She sighed. Since returning home from Manchester,
everyone had been treating her very…carefully. Including
Jasper. He and their friends and all the servants seemed
to think she was delicate and breakable.

“What kind of equipment do you plan to fill this room
with, if you don’t mind my asking?” His hand curved over
her shoulder and then slid into her hair, teasing her
nape.

She tilted her head, telling him without words that she
wanted more of his touch. “Some mats for the floor,
mostly. But I also think it’s past time I put the
clockwork automaton the general sent over to good use.
While I won’t be dancing anymore, I need to find some way
of staying active. I’m not used to sitting around with
nothing to do.”

She didn’t use the word training, or tell him she was
getting worried about General Black’s threat to send her
into the field as an agent of the War Office. Every time
she’d mentioned it, Jasper had thrown up a stone wall.
Even now, his body tensed behind her just before she felt
his lips purse in the tender spot at the base of her
neck.

They hadn’t heard anything from the general in the three
months since leaving Manchester, but as the days went by,
the shadows in Jasper’s eyes got darker. Both of them
seemed to be waiting for the axe to fall, and neither had
been able to admit what would happen when it finally did.

The light stubble on his cheek and chin abraded her skin.
When she shivered, he rubbed his face back and forth with
a low chuckle. He’d recently expressed his appreciation
of her shorter hairstyle, so she’d decided to flout
convention and keep it short.

“You don’t need that machine for exercise—” he tasted
her, sliding his tongue up the column of her neck, “—when
you have me here. Ready…”

He traced her ear and then blew gently on the sensitive
wet skin. She shivered yet again.

“…willing…” His hand closed into a fist and tugged gently
on her hair until she let her head fall back with a low
groan.

“…and able…” His other hand settled possessively on her
hip as he pushed the hard evidence of his desire for her
against the soft curve of her buttocks, felt keenly
through the specially designed loose-fitting trousers she
wore now, instead of the proper gowns that filled her
closet. She’d tried to wear them occasionally, but the
skirts tripped her up because she couldn’t feel them on
her legs when they got in the way. Since she didn’t go
out much in public in any event, there was really no one
to care what she wore.

“…to attend to your every whim.”