by Affair (lit)
The world was suddenly fashioned of quicksilver. Bri,@@ht, gleaming, ever-changing, endlessly fascinating. Nothing stayed in
focus. It was impossible to concentrate on logic. His unquenchable need was all.
He crushed her lips beneath his own, seeking the damp heti of her mouth. He leaned into her, bending her back until she carn( LIP hard against the workbench. "Oomph." Charlotte sounded startled but she did not pull away. Instead, her fingers clenched fiercely in his hair.
Shuddering with hunger, he kissed her cheek, her eyes, her ears,
her throat.
He raised his head just long enough to yank off his spectacles. He tossed them carelessly aside. Then he shoved one booted foot
between her stocking-clad legs and slid his knee upward. She cried out and clung to him when she found herself astride his upper thigh.
11 1 can feel your heat straight through my breeches," he mut-
tered, awed. "You're already dampening the fabric."
She groaned and buried her face against his shirt. "You embar-
rass me, sir.
"On my oath, that was not my intent." He ripped several pins from her hair. "If you like, I shall study some of that bloody romantic poetry. Perhaps I can learn a more refined language to use at
moments such as this."
Do not trouble yourself." She started to jerk open the fastenings of his shirt with trembling hands. "You are doing very without a course of study."
Her fingers splayed across his bare chest. Baxter squeezed Ills eyes shut and sucked in his breath. His shaft threatened to burst
through the front of his breeches.
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Charlotte put her lips to one of his nipples. She said something
- 1 1 ing I - The words were unintelligible but the mean' ,ga nst 11 skin was Linmistakable. He realized with a sense of unfurling triumph and boundless gratitude that she was as desperate for him as he was
for her
A part of him wanted to take ample time to relish this first oinin,_- But he was powerless to halt the headlong rush so long as
Ch@irlwre was rushing in the same direction. The combined force of their cl(,sire was truly irresistible.
There would be opportunity enough later to make the lovemakIng last for hours, he promised himself. This time it was too elemental, too primitive a thing.
He grasped a fistful of her fine muslin skirts and hauled them up to her waist. He lowered his knee slowly and slid his hands beneath her bare, rounded buttocks. He eased her up onto the edge of the workbench.
A ceramic flask got knocked on its side as he struggled with the foaming skirts. The jar rolled to the edge of the bench and crashed to the floor. He ignored it.
"Baxter?" Charlotte sounded disoriented, confused. 'Just hold on, my sweet." He grasped her legs and pulled them around his waist. "That's all you have to do. I'll take care of the rest. "
He quickly opened the front of his breeches and guided himself to her.
"Dear God, Baxter." She gripped his shoulders.
The feel of her fingertips on the old scars sent shock waves through him again, just as it had last night. But this time he did not fight the sensation. It rolled through him with the force of lightning and he gloried in it. "Tel I me that you want me," he said into the curve of her throat. "Let me hear you say it." "I want you." Feminine need throbbed in her voice.
He put one hand on her sex. She pulsed gently against him, her
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flesh swollen with desire. He could feel the small bud straining against the pad of his thumb. He rubbed it gently and reveled it,
the way her entire body quivered in response. "Make love to me, Baxter. Please."
He almost laughed. The sound emerged from his throat as a
short, husky croak. "I could not stop now, not even for the secret of the Philosopher's Stone itself."
He braced her against the sturdy workbench and guided his shaft to the entrance of her moist passage. He felt her go very still.
He thrust heavily into her, willing himself to go as slowly as
possible because he knew from last night's explorations that she was
snug and tight. It had no doubt been some time since her last lover, he thought, perhaps even longer than it had been since his own last affair.
But his willpower had been weakened along with his brain, he discovered. The moment he felt the clinging grasp of her narrow
channel, he forgot all about restraint. In the grip of a triumphant recklessness, he cradled her buttocks and plunged forward.
Charlotte yelped. Her body went rigid. Her nails dug into the acid marks on his shoulders.
He suddenly realized the truth. Charlotte had had no previous lovers.
"Bloody hell."
In spite of her knowledge of men, in spite of the veneer of
worldly sophistication she exhibited, in spite of her age, she was a
Virgin.
Correction, he thought. She had been a virgin. He stopped moving but he was already sunk deep inside her. He could feel the small muscles of her soft passage straining to encorD-
pass him. "Why did you not tell me?" he demanded. led "You never asked." She kissed his throat. And then she smi
"And it does not matter. I wanted this."
"God help me, so do L"
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He adjasted himself carefully and began to move. He retreated
1 slowly, aware of a sensation that was both pain and pleasure. it seemed to take forever to withdraw to the very entrance. She clung tightly to him the whole way. He finally halted when only the tip of his shaf rema ined inside her.
She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He reached between them, found the taut nubbin hidden in the soft curls of her sex, and stroked it until he felt her begin to relax.
-Yes." She kissed him frantically. Her legs tightened around his waist. "Yes. Yes."
She lowered her hand and gently, tentatively, cradled him. The blood roared in his veins.
Stroking gently, he pushed himself deliberately into her until he was once more sunk to the hilt.
She sighed and wriggled her hips. "For God's sake, don't move," he muttered. She did not appear to hear him. Perhaps she was not listening. She twisted herself with mounting eagerness. Baxter closed his eyes. His hands shook when he tried to hold her still. But he was too close to the fire now. The lure of the crucible drew him with inescapable power.
Charlotte kissed him again. He was lost. "Next time," he heard himself promise in a hoarse whisper. He began to move more quickly within her. "Next time But he did not have to make her wait until the next occasion for her release. He heard her cry out, a wonderfully triumphant scream of delight and satisfaction.
And then she turned to molten gold in his hands. She convulsed around him, tiny spasms kneading his engorged flesh. He slammed into her one last time and spilled himself into her warm, welcoming body.
The workbench trembled and shook. Baxter was dimly aware of the sound of breaking glass. Another flask had been knocked to the floor. Something heavy, the cast iron
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pneumatic trough, perhaps, toppled and fell. A metallic clang echoed through the room as two brass instruments rolled into e&l, other.
Baxter ignored the chaos around him and lost himself in the whirlpool.
Charlotte floated gently down out of a world that was com-
posed of pure sensation and found herself sitting on the edge of one
of Baxter's workbenches. She opened her eyes.
Baxter was no longer embedded within her body but he stil! stood between her legs. He was watching her with a shuttered, fiercely intent expression. "You should have told me that you had never had a lover."
The eerily emotionless quality of his voice washed away the last traces of warmth.
"It was my business," she said. "I do not see that the facts of the
/> situation need concern you in any way. You need assume no responsibility as a result of having been my first paramour. I am not a girl, I am a mature woman."
"Granted." His expression hardened. "But I do not appreciate being surprised by that kind of information."
For some ridiculous reason, she was suddenly on the verge of tears. She blinked the moisture away with an act of sheer will. She
refused to cry simply because Baxter had reverted to his customary brusque nature.
This was not how things should be after such an exhilarating experience, she thought. There should be great tenderness between them now. At least for a few moments they should both be able to
indulge themselves in the wonderful sense of intimacy that had enveloped them during the passionate encounter.
Perhaps her emotions were still in an unusually volatile state due to recent events. But, damnation, here she was failing in lo e
with this exceedingly difficult man and he stood there between bcr
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thighs, scowling as if she had done something unforgivable. Had their passion meant nothing to him? "Baxter, you are making far too much of this."
His jaw tightened. "Perhaps I am. After all, you were as eager as I for what occurred."
indeed," she said stiffly. i i!ls mouth twisted. He glanced down, apparently amazed to ,er that his fingers were still curved around her upper thighs.
wave of acute embarrassment swept over Charlotte. She was aware of a disturbing scent that she knew must have resulted rn the lovemaking. And there was a great deal of dampness ber@@ @en her legs. She shifted gingerly and fumbled with her skirts. "Wait," Baxter muttered. "I've got a clean handkerchief here s( iewhere."
He fished around in his clothing until he produced a large s,, are of neatly pressed linen. Charlotte flinched and blushed furiOLISly when he used it to wipe away the traces of their passion. She SUbmitted for a few seconds and then pushed his hand away. "If you're quite finished." She managed to get her legs closed. She jerked her skirts downward and slid off the workbench.
Her knees threatened to give way. She put out a hand to catch her balance. "Why?" Baxter asked. ,She glanced at him. "I beg your pardon?"
14e crushed the wet handkerchief in his fingers. His alchemist's eYc:s blazed. "Why did you choose me to be your first lover?"
Damn him. Two could play at this game. She dredged up what she hoped was a cool smile. "You, of all people, sit, should understa nd that sometimes the urge to conduct an experiment proves quite overwhelming."
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He had been nothing more than an experiment for her. A
damned experiment.
Baxter's initial rage was now inextricably bound up with a gut-
wrenching sense of frustrated despair. He fought hard to conceal
both behind the veil of emotionless detachment that had worked so
often and so well for him in the past.
He escorted Charlotte home with a brusque civility that clearly annoyed her but it was all that he was prepared to give. She sat
across from him in the carriage, her spine elegantly straight, and
reffised to meet his eyes during the whole of the short ride. She kept
her attention fixed on the street. There was a flush in her cheeks but
Baxter concluded that it was not a result of the fact that he had )List made love to her. She said not a single word.
Her tack of conversation suited him perfectly, he thought. God
knew he'd had more than enough of strong emotions today. He
certainly did not want to discuss them.
He followed her up the steps of her little town house in sitence.
It was a relief to retreat into the deep, remote place where feeling was muted, distanced, and far easier to contain.
Mrs. Witty opened the door with alacrity. "About time you -,'()t home, Miss Charlotte. Miss Ariel and myself were starting to fret-
as
Wondered if we ought to send word to Mr. St. Ives-" She broke off
she took in the sight of Baxter standing on the step behind Charlotte. Her face cleared. "Oh, I see you found her, sir. Well, that's a fortunate turn of events." "That depends upon one's point of view." Baxter ignored Charlotte's glowering, sidelong glance as he stepped into the hall.
He stopped short as the overpowering fragrance of a vast quant,ty ()f massed flowers hit him in a scented wave. "What the devil is
thls@ Have you turned the house into a bloody conservatory?"
Mrs. Witty grimaced as she followed his gaze. "They started arriving this morning. Used every vase and bowl we had in the
house. Quite a sight, eh?"
Rank upon rank of vases filled with innumerable blooms were
clustered in the hall. Pots of marigolds marched up the staircase. Tulips framed the mirror. Roses and orchids and lilies were massed
against the walls.
Baxter was abruptly incensed. "Who the devil thinks he has the right to send you all of these damned posies, Charlotte? The only man you danced with last night was old Lennox."
"I sent some of them to myself" Charlotte untied her bonnet strings. "I made a bargain with the young boy who drove the flower cart, you see. He only agreed to help me follow Miss Post after I said I would purchase all of his wares." "Ah, yes. The bloody flower cart boy." Baxter scowled at Mrs. WI'ttY. "Were you a party to that episode?" "Don't look at me, sit." Mrs. Witty took his hat. "I'm entirely innocent. I suggested that chasing after Miss Post was not the wisest
course of action, but who listens to the housekeeper? In any event, not all of these flowers are from the flower cart. A good many were
sent around this morning by Miss Ariel's admirers."
Charlotte brightened. "Of course. Ariel was the toast of every Young rnan in the ton last night. The gentlemen fell at her feet in droves.- "Charlotte, you're back." Ariel's voice sang out from the rear of
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the hall. Quick footsteps sounded on the tile as she hurried to,%,,d the front of the house. "I was starting to become concerned. All-s. Witty said that you'd gone hating off after some woman N,11,) claimed that Mr. St. Ives had seduced and abandoned her-Oh, Nlr. St. Ives." Ariel blushed as she emerged from the corridor. "I did not
see you, sir. "Think nothing of it." Baxter folded his arms and propped one
shoulder against the door frame. "I'm accustomed to being ignored. " "Pay no attention to him." Charlotte marched briskly toward the stairs. "Mr. St. Ives is in an ill temper. Show him into my study, Mrs. Witty. I shall be down in a minute. I want to freshen myselt. it has been a somewhat hectic morning." "Hectic." Baxter watched Charlotte hurry up the staircase. "Yes, indeed. just another busy morning in the laboratory observing the results of one's experiments, eh, Miss Arkendale?"
She paused on the landing to give him a brittle smile. "As @@ou say, Mr. St. Ives." "Bear in mind that occasionally the results of certain experi-
ments take some time to develop," he said. "As long as nine moliths
in some instances."
He had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen in shock as his
meaning sank home. Bleakly satisfied, he turned and walked into
the study.
Another scented wave swept over him. This room, too, was filled with blooms. A particularly large bowl of pale pink roses
dominated the scene.
Nine months. His own words struck him with the impact of a
hammer blow. What if Charlotte was pregnant?
He made for the brandy table. Charlotte's outraged yell sounded from the floor above )us[ @Is
Baxter got the top off the brandy decanter. "It's gone." Footsteps pounded overhead. "The bastard took
Baxter put down the decanter with a long-suffering sigh. A rnan
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could ilot even take a medicinal draught in this household without
b
I _ I e w nterrupted.
H, made his way back to the doorway of the study. Ariel and Mrs. Ax'Itty were gazing up at the landing in openmouthed astonishment. Charlotte stood there looking as though she had just re-
j ine. ceived a strong olt from an electricity machi "What is it?" Ariel clemanded. "What happened?"
iVrs. Witty stared at her. "What's wrong?" Charlotte flung her arms wide. "I just told you. Didn't you hear me He took it." "Calm yourself, Charlotte," Baxter said. Everyone fell silent and turned to look at him. "Now, then, why don't you tell us precisely who took what?"
"The villain we surprised here in this house last night," she said impatiently. ''What about him?"
I concluded that he had not managed to steal anything, but I was wrong. I only thought to check those items that I believed would appeal to a thief, the silver and such." Charlotte drew a breath. "I did not bother to check Drusilla Heskett's watercolor sketchbook. I stored it in a wardrobe drawer."
Baxter went cold. "Are you saying it's gone?" '@es. That was no ordinary housebreaker, Baxter. He was after that sketchbook. And he got it." She leveled an accusing finger at him. A told you that book contained a valuable clue, St. Ives."
Baxter adjusted his spectacles absently as he considered the imPlications. "When you have finished refreshing yourself, come down here at once. Kindly do not dawdle." "Damn you, St. Ives. Don't you dare give me orders in my own house. Furthermore, I do not dawdle. I'm the one who followed A41ss Post this morning, if you will but recall. When I attempted to tell You about the incident, you created a . . . a great distraction right there in your own laboratory. Any dawdling done this day was done by you, sir."
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the hall. Quick footsteps sounded on the tile as she hurried tow,[rcI the front of the house. "I was starting to become concerned. Mrs. Witty said that you'd gone hating off after some woman v@11,, claimed that Mr. St. Ives had seduced and abandoned her-Oh, Alr. St. Ives." Arlel blushed as she emerged from the corridor. "I did ilot
see you, sit. "Think nothing of it." Baxter folded his arms and propped one
shoulder against the door frame. "I'm accustomed to being ignored. " "Pay no attention to him." Charlotte marched briskly tOWtrd the stairs. "Mr. St. Ives is in an ill temper. Show him into my study, Mrs. Witty. I shall be down in a minute. I want to freshen myself. it has been a somewhat hectic morning." "Hectic." Baxter watched Charlotte hurry up the staircase. "Yes, indeed. just another busy morning in the laboratory observing the results of one's experiments, eh, Miss Arkendale?"