But some part of him resisted. Some instinct urged him to plot and plan how this should go, to hold on to some shred of control.
Yet one blink of sable lashes, one look into her eyes, and she unraveled every bit of him.
He cupped her face in his hands, marveled at her softness, and told himself not to frighten her. Not to ruin this moment as he had others.
Dipping his head, he kissed her softly. But it wasn’t enough. He deepened the kiss, urging her to let him in. Then she did, moaning into his mouth as he kissed her.
He deepened the kiss. She set something loose inside him. Made him believe in possibilities that terrified him. She made him want to risk everything, anything, if he could keep on holding her. Kissing her.
“Aidan,” she whispered.
The sound of his name on her lips shot a rush of pleasure straight down his body.
“Diana.” She was what he needed. To all that he kept locked inside, somehow she possessed the key.
There was much he wished to tell her. Things he needed to make her understand.
Before he could gather a coherent thought, two distinct raps sounded on his study door and she dropped her arms from around his waist.
“It’s all right,” he promised, and held her a moment longer.
When he released her, the loss hit him like a blow.
He let out a long exhale, struggling to rein in his urges and gather his thoughts before stepping over to open the door.
“Repton,” he said jovially to the stout man across the threshold. “Right on time.”
“Anything other than timeliness is inexcusable,” the older man said with a hearty chuckle. He had a round belly, a bald pate, and a laugh that made his jowls wobble.
“Miss Diana Ashby,” Aidan said as he gestured toward her.
Of course, one glance at her and he didn’t wish to stop looking. Her cheeks were pink, her mouth flush from their kisses. There was a fire in her gaze that set off an answering inferno inside him.
“I’ve heard a great deal about you from Mr. Iverson.” Repton strode forward and offered her his hand.
“I hope he’s mostly told you about my pneumatic cleaning system, Mr. Repton.”
The old man chortled. “Why, yes, of course.” His eyes widened behind the polished brass rims of his spectacles as he took in the machine. “Do you mind if I . . . ?” He wriggled his fingers in the air.
“Touch it?” Two tiny lines formed between her brows. “Certainly. I plan to demonstrate its effectiveness for you today too. This is a complete working model.”
“I wish to have a look first, if I may.”
Diana’s jaw tensed as the man stepped toward her machine.
Aidan approached to whisper to her. “It’s all right. Let him look all he likes. If he’s to sell these in his shops, he’ll want to know them intimately.”
She snapped her gaze to Aidan’s, and then stared at his mouth.
The urge to send Repton packing and resume what had only just begun between them was terribly tempting. But he knew what this opportunity meant to her. If Repton bought her machine, it could bring Diana the success she longed for, both recognition for her inventions and financial reward.
“You say you can demonstrate it now?” Repton dipped his head and gazed at them over the rim of his spectacles.
Diana stepped forward and repeated the procedure she had done in her laboratory. This time the pump was primed and it was only a matter of shaking a bit of dust on the carpet and using the metal hose to pull up the particles.
Aidan held back. He was anxious to assist her if necessary, but he was acutely aware that she needed to show mastery of her machine on her own. A few paces back, he could also keep one eye on Repton, gauging his response. The man was decidedly intrigued. His brows did a merry dance on his forehead and his eyes widened and narrowed during the demonstration.
“Well done, Miss Ashby,” he said when she was finished. “But may I try the machine for myself?” He extracted a plump envelope from his coat pocket, tore off the edge, and poured out what looked to be a combination of ash and dirt onto Aidan’s study carpet.
Luckily, he’d chosen a deep burgundy rug to cover the floor.
“The pump mechanism may need to be reprimed,” Diana told Repton when he strode up and lifted the main tube of the device in his hands.
“Why don’t you do those honors, Iverson?” Repton directed over his shoulder.
Diana shot him a disgruntled frown, but he nodded. She had to understand that no buyer would sell a product he hadn’t tested thoroughly. To do so might harm his own reputation.
When Aidan approached to reach for the lever and prepare the pump, Diana stepped in front of him.
“I can do this,” she said softly, but with a thread of steel behind every syllable.
His hands brushed her body and he couldn’t resist letting his palm linger at her back for a moment where Repton couldn’t see. She was trembling and he kept his hand in place far longer than he should have, attempting to offer whatever meager comfort he could.
Once the pump was ready, Diana flipped the lever and Repton struggled to hold the tube steady as he ran it over the mess he’d made. Unlike Diana, he allowed the opening to connect with the carpet, where it stayed.
“If you just—” Diana tried.
“I can manage on my own, Miss Ashby.” Repton ignored her attempts to set him right and fumbled with the hose for a while longer before he finally understood the principle. “Oh yes,” he said as the device cleared every scrap of detritus he’d deposited. “This works quite well.”
Diana’s face lit in a grin, and Aidan couldn’t help but smile too.
“Can I assume that means you’d like to enter an order for a few devices, Repton?”
“Now let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Iverson.” The American dusted off his hands as if he’d just personally cleaned the floor with a brush and pan. “Have you created many of these devices, miss? Or is this your only prototype?”
“Currently, this is the only working model, but with Mr. Iverson’s investment—”
“I ship out to New York in two weeks. Can you have five completed by then?”
Aidan could feel Diana’s fear and uncertainty from across the room, but he could also taste her eagerness. This was what she’d been waiting for.
“Yes,” he told Repton confidently. Whatever she needed—supplies, tools, even warehouse space—he could provide to make this sale successful.
Diana clenched the edge of her skirt in her hands and cast him a questioning glance. “I’m not sure that’s true.”
“Well, is it or isn’t it? Time waits for no man.” Repton shifted his gaze between them, finally setting his perusal on Diana. “Or woman, Miss Ashby. I came here under the belief that you would have enough devices to make the journey worth my while.”
“No promises of the sort were made, Repton,” Aidan reminded his longtime business associate. “But we will ensure that you don’t go back to America without five of Miss Ashby’s machines. At least.”
The old man did his usual squint, as if he was giving the matter deep thought. But Aidan knew he would capitulate. At least to this part. Wrangling over cost would be a separate matter. Aidan had stated a price in initial correspondence with the American, but he knew that negotiation over money was the aspect Wilbur Repton liked best.
“I shall check in a week on progress. If all is on track, we can discuss a final sum at that time.”
“Very good.” Aidan stepped forward to seal the verbal agreement with a handshake, as was Repton’s way.
The old man wrenched his arm vigorously and offered one of his signature belly-deep chuckles. “It’s very new. And a lady inventor. Might make for an interesting selling point.”
“Indeed.” Aidan patted the man on the back as he saw him toward the threshold. “We’ll have progress to report in one week.”
When he turned back to Diana, he half expected her to rush into his arms. If she didn’t, he was c
onsidering rushing into hers.
“You’ve done it,” he told her. Excitement bubbled inside him. Not the usual exaltation over an investment well-chosen or a project seen through to a successful end. It was the pleasure of knowing what joy this moment must give her.
Yet she didn’t look at all joyful.
She’d settled her backside against the front of his desk and crossed her arms. “You remember I’m here now, do you?”
“Forgetting you would be quite impossible, Diana.” He could easily get used to the sound of her name on his tongue. He liked dispensing with the formality between them.
“But you both did at the end. You deciding that we can do the impossible, and Repton spoke of me as if I wasn’t still in the room.”
They had been asses now that he thought back on the exchange. He’d gotten carried away with deal making and forgotten that it was as much her negotiation as his. “You’re right. He’s used to me. We’ve been business associates for years.”
She lifted a hand and began nibbling on the edge of her finger. “We’ll need materials. I’ll need time in my workshop. Maybe even additional manpower.”
“Can I assist you? I could help obtain whatever construction materials you need, and I have two useful hands.”
Diana glanced down at his hands, and he wondered if she was imagining what he was—touching her, tracing the line of her jaw with his finger, shaping her waist, her hips, and all the curves he’d not yet explored.
She dropped her gaze to the carpet and swallowed hard. “I thought I was to assist you in finding a wife. That will take time too.”
Aidan wasn’t sure if she meant the words to hurt, but they stung like the jab of a knife. Most of all, he hated that she was right.
She began gathering the parts of her device and returning them to the case, shoving and dropping each piece into place. When she was done, she slammed the lid shut and attempted to heave the container onto her shoulder.
“Let me.”
“I can manage.”
But she couldn’t, and she didn’t argue or push him away when he approached and lifted the case into his arms. He let her lead and followed her to the front door. All that he wished to say remained tangled in the center of his chest.
“Have Thomas fetch a hansom for Miss Ashby,” he told the maid. Then they stood in awkward silence in the hallway.
“Diana—” he finally started, unsure of where to begin, knowing only that he had to try.
“That was quick,” she said when the clop of horses’ hooves sounded on the bricks outside his town house. “It works best if we put the device in first before I climb in.” She veritably sprinted for the carriage and waited while he maneuvered the box inside.
Once he was finished, he braced a hand on the carriage wall. Their bodies were inches apart.
“Diana, what happened in the study—”
“I have one more lady for you to meet,” she said in a cool, clipped tone. “Her father is a duke’s heir and will one day inherit. She’s very beautiful.”
“You are beautiful and clever and determined, and apparently inclined to pretend you didn’t want that kiss as much as I did.”
“I did.” Diana dipped her head and stared at the cobblestones. He half expected her to take the admission back. When she looked at him, however, her gaze was resolute. “But we had an agreement, Mr. Iverson. You’ve kept your part of our bargain and I must keep mine.”
“Agreements can be nullified. Altered.” He didn’t want to talk about bloody business. He was well aware of what he’d agreed to, but here in this moment with her, he didn’t want money and matchmaking between them. He only wanted her.
“Tomorrow evening at seven. Can you take me in your carriage?”
Aidan swallowed hard at the images her question evoked. “Take you where?”
“The home of Lady Elizabeth Thorndyke and her father, the Marquess of Merton. They are hosting a spectacle of sorts and I’ve secured an invitation. I’m allowed to bring one guest.”
Aidan frowned. “What sort of spectacle?”
She smiled back, and it was warm and open enough to give him hope. “Based on your taste in reading material, I think you’ll approve. Lady Elizabeth is quite fond of ghost stories and specters and has decided to host a séance.”
Aidan had heard of the faddish entertainment and its popularity with some in London society, but he’d never considered attending one himself. But an evening spent in Diana’s company? “Very well. I’ll come for you at half past six.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Oh.”
That was the single word Aidan got out. Not even a word, really. Just a sound. A gasp of air.
Diana descended the stairs of her family’s Cadogan Square home in a purple dress that hugged her curves as closely as he wished to. She’d arranged her hair in a pile of lovely curls that framed her face. But it was the look in her eyes that set his pulse racing.
She looked pleased to see him, her blue gaze lit with warmth.
He’d feared after the way they’d parted the day before that she’d wish to forget their kiss. But her eyes—lingering on him, open and eager—said otherwise.
He told himself to stop gaping, that they needed to depart for the Marquess of Merton’s town house soon or risk being late. But there was no place else he wished to be.
“It may seem as if I’ve overdressed for this event.”
“No, it does not.”
She smiled. “Bess is rather exacting about fashion.”
“Bess?”
“Lady Elizabeth.”
Ah yes. The agreement that once made so much sense and now held as much appeal as a lifetime of nights spent at the opera.
Except, of course, there was the guarantee. He should never have asked her to offer herself up as a bride if he could make no match with the other ladies. Now, it was becoming increasingly clear that was the option he’d always preferred.
Diana Ashby drew him. She always had. Her confidence. Her fearlessness. From the moment they’d met. She’d drawn him with a pull as powerful as one of the magnets in her workshop. And now he knew with certainty that no duke’s daughter or any other woman would ever intrigue him as she did.
Of course, he still harbored ambitions too. Almost every day the newspapers featured details about the exhibition being planned, and he was no closer to gaining entry to the Parthenon club or Lord Lockwood’s good graces.
But none of that changed how much he wanted to kiss Diana again.
The question was whether she wanted the same.
“I’ve prepared a few notes.” She lifted a slip of paper from a reticule dangling from her wrist and offered it to him.
“Of course you have.” He overreached when he extended his hand. Desperate to touch her, he let his fingers linger against hers a moment before retrieving the folded square of paper.
She didn’t retreat, and he savored the little catch in her breath.
He looked down at the careful lines of ink and could barely muster an ounce of interest in the list of Lady Elizabeth Thorndyke’s hobbies.
“What’s this one?” he asked, pointing to a word he’d never seen before.
Diana leaned closer and he caught her rich rose perfume and something deeper, earthier, her own unique scent.
“Lepidopterology is the study of moths and butterflies,” she told him very seriously, her brow furrowed as if his lack of knowledge on the topic appalled her.
Aidan pressed his lips together to stifle a smile.
“She’s fond of other bugs too, but her mother has dissuaded her from collecting any more of them.”
“Is there nothing people won’t study?”
“I don’t think there is.” She walked behind him to collect a wrap that had been laid out on a table near the front door. “Everything is worth study, Mr. Iverson. All mysteries are worth solving.”
“Didn’t we agree you’d call me Aidan?”
“You asked.” She dipped her head,
almost shyly, then looked up with a devastating smile. “I didn’t agree.”
“Details of a negotiation are important.”
“They are.” Looking up toward the top of the stairs, she added more quietly, “My mother is ailing upstairs, but she has a very keen sense of hearing.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“Thank you for being concerned. It’s just a cold. My mother is very strong. She would refuse a doctor, even if she needed one.”
Aidan suspected she was speaking of herself as much as her mother.
“She approves of me escorting you this evening?”
Diana swallowed and notched her chin up an inch. “I didn’t ask her. I’m practically a spinster, and I loathe asking Dominick to chaperone.”
Spinster, she was not. But Aidan decided not to argue her out of the claim. At least not now.
“Shall we depart?” He offered her his arm, and she stared a moment as if wary of touching him.
After much hesitation, she laid her hand against his sleeve and let him lead her to the carriage. He’d brought his own and liked settling inside with Diana on the opposite bench. A strange rush of possessiveness washed over him. He’d never imagined the simple act of sharing a carriage ride with a woman would bring him pleasure.
They rode in silence and he studied her profile as she gazed out the window. He wanted to trace his fingers along the lush curve of her lips, the tip of her nose, even her furrowed brow.
What worried her this evening? Was it the same stew of dread and anticipation he’d been struggling with all day?
The deal they’d made had once made sense to him. As logical and practical as any exchange he’d ever agreed to, but now all that made sense was this. Him. Her. Together and feeling the undeniable pull between them.
She’d worn gloves, and the fabric was stretched taut as she gripped her reticule like a drowning man grips a tow rope.
“I take it you reviewed my notes?” she asked quietly. “About Bess. She’s very clever and has more interests than any of us.”
“When will you provide me a list of your interests?”
She finally looked at him, her expression unreadable. “You know mine. I like taking things apart and creating something new from the pieces.”
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