The Girl in the Clockwork Collar

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“What are you doing?”

Finley Jayne smiled in the darkness. She should have known Griffin would come looking for her. Gripping the slender prow with both hands, she glanced over her shoulder and saw him standing just inside the dirigible’s softly lighted observation deck. The wind blew strands of hair into her face. “Finding out how it feels to fly,” she replied.

“You’re over three thousand feet in the air.” His gravelly voice carried over the sound of the airship’s engines. “Flying might prove fatal.”

Finley laughed. That was his way of scolding her for having ignored the signs that warned passengers not to climb out the windows or over the protective railings. Griffin King was the Duke of Greythorne, and sometimes he carried the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. That he was worried about her was ... sweet.

“We’re going to be landing soon,” he called, trying another tactic. “Why don’t you come in and make sure you have all your things?”

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