Read Iron Hard for Free Online

never done him justice.
    “Miss Waters,” he greeted her, extending his gloved hand. “I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is to receive you.”
    “My lord. The pleasure is mine.” She curtsied and placed her fingers within his palm, shivering as he clasped her. There was a sincerity in his commonplace greeting that startled her. Then something else unexpected—the unforgiving strength of metal curling around her fingers—stole her attention. “Your hand…?”
    “My arm,” he corrected.
    An entire arm. Mechanized. Excitement coursed through her.
    He watched her with searing intensity. “Would you like to see it?”
    “Yes. Please.”
    Releasing her, he stepped back and shrugged out of his beautifully tailored velvet jacket. He tugged off his gloves; first the one on his mechanical hand, then its mate covering his physical one. She was amazed by the dexterity of his copper fingers as he freed the button at his cuff and rolled his sleeve up.
    Her lungs seized at the wondrous sight. She took a step forward without her volition, her gaze riveted to the softly whirring copper and steel gears. They had been fashioned into the shape of an arm and so precisely meshed that she doubted even air could slip between the cogs. Encased in what appeared to be thin glass, it was worthy of museum exhibition.
    “How extensive is the replacement?” she asked, fighting the urge to run her hands over it.
    “To the shoulder.”
    Her tongue darted out to lick her suddenly dry lips.
    His green eye flashed with heat and his mouth—that wicked, wonderful mouth—curved in a rakish smile. “I would gladly show you the whole, but I’d have to undress further. Do you object?”
    “No.” She quivered with anticipation. “Please.”
    The baron loosened his cravat. She was so mesmerized by the expert craftsmanship of his artificial appendage, she scarcely registered that he was disrobing. Until the tight lacing of his abdomen was bared. Followed by the rippling expanse of his powerful chest.
    “Oh, my…” Her arousal spiked. Her blood was hot for him, her body softening to accommodate the hardness of his. Unseemly thoughts filled her mind. Naughty thoughts. Highly sexual.
    He was scarred on his chest as well. As with his face, the puckered bullet hole and multiple knife slashes only made him more delicious. Annie’s lips parted on lightly panting breaths, her breasts swelling within her bodice.
    She flushed and tore her gaze away from the seductive expanse of flame-lit muscle and golden skin. It shocked her to realize how much effort was required to focus on his finely wrought arm instead. In truth, it had been far too long since flesh and blood had held more appeal than steel and grease. She found herself at a loss over which arm was more skillfully cast—the one afforded him by the grace of God or the one crafted by an earthly engineer.
    “Exquisite.” Annie referred to the entirety of him, not merely the manmade pieces.
    Judging by his sudden low growl, the baron knew it.
    Sharp tension spiked between them, a heightened awareness that swept across her skin in a pricking wave. An aching need built between her legs, a reminder that she had suppressed her desires for years. Or, more accurately, it had been that length of time since a man had proven capable of rousing them. After the loss of Gaspard, she’d wondered if grief had made her immune to masculine charms. But the baron was proving her wrong. Her gratitude for that was as potent as her attraction.
    Turning away abruptly, she faced the desk and lifted the lid on the delivery box with unsteady hands. The lovebirds glimmered in the firelight, their tin feathers flexing as they moved closer to each other. “I hope these are satisfactory, my lord.”
    He came up behind her, his greater height enabling him to look over her shoulder. He stood so close she could smell him: warm, virile male with the faintest touch of clove and bergamot.
    “My god,” he said gruffly, reaching