The Mech Who Loved Me (London Steampunk: The Blue Blood Conspiracy #2)

by Bec McMaster

The fact she had to ask made him feel a little angry on her behalf. "Of course it was a compliment. You're beautiful, and kind, and any man should be pleased to see you."

"Ava, far be it from me to comment on your situation, but hopin' to find a man who tolerates your eccentricities ain't bloody good enough. You deserve better than that. You deserve a man who loves you because you babble on about bloody plants, not despite the fact you do. You deserve someone who thinks you hung the moon in the sky, and looks forward—every day—to coming home to you."

"No." Kincaid leaned closer, his mouth a bare inch from her ear. "I'm not going to let you tarnish me with a lie, nor yourself with doubt. I've never been a saint, Ava. I never will be, perhaps. But there's something about you that takes my breath." He lifted his mech hand, those steel fingers almost, but not quite, brushing against the spill of lace at her throat. "I think together, you and I would be explosive. I sometimes see you looking at me, and there's some part of you that wants to be utterly wicked. And I want to help you unleash her. I want to be wicked with you, see if we're just as good together as I suspect we'd be."

Malloryn wasn't the sort to set himself up for embarrassment. No. He was the sort to set a trap, and as he caught Kincaid's eye, he smiled faintly. Son of a bitch. This was going to hurt, he suspected.