Saving the Scientist

by Riley Cole

Every inch of naked flesh, every gasp, every sigh, every moan would be visible to the couple thrashing about below.

  Had Edison made love here, where his lover would be able to watch his powerful muscles flex as he moved over her?

  Ada’s cheeks flamed. She stared down at her hands.

  Cherise laughed. “Men are silly creatures, aren’t they? Like to be center stage, most of them.”

  She sank down on the bed until they were shoulder to shoulder and patted Ada on the knee. “You’re the strong kind of woman who doesn’t need a man’s power or his money.” She studied Ada’s gray dress, now folded neatly over the back of a chair. “We need you to appear the opposite.”

  Cherise’s grin turned the slightest bit wicked. “You, Mrs. Templeton, are going to become a kept woman.”

  Ada tried to swallow, but her throat had dried up. “I’m not very good at being any kind of woman.”

  Cherise laughed. “Good enough to get Edison Sweet lathered up.”

  “What?” Ada’s voice rose in surprise. “No! He’s only taken on my case because…” She paused. Why had he agreed to help her exactly?

  Cherise slid off the bed and began lifting up dresses. “I’ve no idea why he took on your case, but I do know that look in his eye.” She held out a deep blue confection covered in lace and ruffles, checking it against Ada’s skin. “He looks at you like a meal he wants to devour.”

  Ada had no response to that pronouncement, although a small, secret place in her heart hoped Cherise was right.

  That a man like Edison, a danger-seeking, risk-taking man of action could see anything attractive about her intrigued her more than she was willing to admit.

  Ada stepped into the airy pantaloons and petticoats Annabelle held out, then raised her arms, allowing the maid to fasten her into a beautifully embroidered corset.

  Only then did she step into the cloud of blue satin Cherise had chosen.

  The image in the mirror above the vanity took her breath away. Cut wide over the shoulders, and low enough in front to expose the tops of her breasts, the dress set off her complexion to perfection. Even to her own eye, she looked radiant.

  Sensual.

  The slight currents of air stirred up by their movements brushed over her skin like featherlight caresses, reminding her she was all but naked. She wasn’t daring enough to wear this gown downstairs, let alone out in public.

  The first time a man eyed that expanse of bare chest, embarrassment would melt her into a puddle.

  Cherise stood behind her, grinning. “Now you look like a woman worth paying for.” She pressed Ada down onto the stool. “Except for the hair.”

  By the time Cherise and Annabelle had brushed and teased and wound her hair up into some sort of towering concoction, Ada was beginning to feel less self-conscious. The new sensations caused by so much newly bared skin were fading.

  A little.

  “I believe we’re ready for your debut, Mrs. Templeton.” Cherise stepped away from the mirror so Ada could see herself.

  She gasped.

  The sensual creature looking back at her had no resemblance to Ada Templeton, chemical scientist.

  This new woman would draw male attention like flowers beckoned bees.

  Ada drew in a long, deep breath. She couldn’t help noticing how the movement made her breasts rise higher, pressing the creamy flesh against the lace edging of the neckline.

  Even her eyes glittered, sparkling with a new sort of energy.

  This woman had power.

  Cherise bent down until they were cheek to cheek in the mirror. “You’re beginning to understand my point. We women have our own special kind of force. Wield it wisely.”

  * * *

  Newspaper in hand, Edison rushed back into Cherise’s house.

  Finally, a string they could tug on.

  He took the stairs two at a time, following the sound of laughter up to Cherise’s boudoir. He rapped a knuckle on the closed door and burst in without waiting for a response. The advertisement was their way in. Their quarry had seeded the beginnings of his own trap. Once they got...

  Lucifer’s hammock.

  His hand slid off the doorknob, every ounce of his attention commandeered by the vision seated at the vanity.

  Holy bleeding hell.

  He’d expected Cherise would tart her up, but this, this was outright genius.

  The dress was perfection. Neither insipid pastel nor somber navy, the rich blue heightened Ada’s complexion, lending her color and vibrance. The towering construction Cherise had made of her dark hair highlighted the intelligent sparkle in her brown eyes.

  The lip rouge was a wicked touch. Ada’s lips were kissable when un-enhanced. The light touch of red unearthed untold sensual possibilities.

  Those were lips he could savor for a long, long while.

  On her own, Ada was a delightful puzzle hidden beneath a boring old wrapping of newsprint. But this, this enhanced her essence the way the right frame set off a magnificent work of art.

  Beautiful all on its own, but better for the combination.

  The only off note was her scent. The patchouli, heavy and alluring, suited Cherise’s overt sexuality. He much preferred Ada’s innocent violet flavor.

  A minor point.

  “Well?” Hands on her hips, Cherise whirled around to face him.

  “I wouldn’t have thought it possible,” he murmured, still dazed.

  Even as the words left his mouth, Edison would have given anything to claw them back. Watching Ada’s response as they hit made him want to bang his head into a wall.

  Her girlish grin froze, then shattered, leaving a sickly grimace in its place.

  “Oh my blessed Jesus,” Cherise muttered. Her glare could have turned him to ash. “Sweet, a word.” She jabbed a finger at the door. “Now.”

  He followed her out onto the landing, leaving Ada slumped in her seat, staring down at her hands.

  Cherise pulled the door shut and folded her arms under her considerable bosom. “You stupid oaf, you have all the charm of old fish guts.”

  Edison’s mouth worked, but words eluded him. Which was likely not a bad thing, considering.

  Cherise paced back and forth in the hallway, her steps short and choppy and uncharacteristically graceless. “You cut her off at the knees. What were you thinking?” She held out a hand, blocking any response. “Nevermind. You need to fix this.”

  Edison could only nod.

  “For the first time in her life, I’ll wager, that woman feels feminine. She feels alive and beautiful and desirable. And you had to poke a pin in it.”

  “I know. I…” He crushed the newspaper in his hand. “It’s not exactly what I meant.”

  “I should hope not.”

  Cherise’s maid slipped out the door and glared before heading down the stairs.

  Edison squeezed his eyes shut. He deserved it, he knew. But how to repair this? He raked a hand through his hair. He could build automatons, construct smoke bombs and flash bombs and secret recorders no bigger than a button. But he didn’t have the sense to think before he spoke.

  Cherise shoved him toward the door. “So get back in there and fix it.”

  “But what should I—?”

  “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself. I can only work so much magic.” Cherise flapped her hands at him and stalked off.

  Now alone in the hallway, Edison stared at the door. Even through inches of walnut paneling, he could feel Ada’s hurt. Hurt he’d caused her.

  The very thought bruised his heart.

  It took a great deal of self discipline not to kick the baseboard. What an overstuffed buffoon.

  He needed help. Guidance. What would Crane say in a situation like this? The man had always had an inordinately smooth tongue.

  If only he could channel Spencer Crane’s essence, his charm. He closed his eyes and prayed for inspiration.

  The only answer to his wish was Cherise’s voice floating up from below. “Bloody idiot.
”

  It was down to him, and his horrid grasp of the fairer sex.

  He counted to three and forced himself to open the door. “Ada?”

  A wet snuffle came from the bed.

  Heedless of her new dress, Ada had flopped backwards on the bed, her knees hinged over the edge of the mattress. Her stockinged feet dangled high above the floor, looking childlike, and strangely vulnerable.

  Edison exhaled, as if he’d taken a rounder to the gut. He felt as if he’d trod on a blooming rose, crushing it into the pavement.

  If he’d hurt her, Briar would berate him at high volume and hurl deadly sharp objects in his direction until she was spent.

  Meena would sling icy looks and cut him to ribbons with her wit.

  Then the storm would pass and they’d forgive him.

  But they knew he loved them. He might be a great stuffed bear of a man with cotton wool for a heart, but they knew he’d never trod on their feelings with intent or malice.

  Ada didn’t know him well enough to realize he was more of a giant baboon than he appeared.

  Perhaps he could dissuade her of that impression.

  He approached cautiously, on the alert for flying objects, but Ada lay still as a board, arms at her sides. Only the slight shudder in her chest told him she realized he was there.

  Though her eyes were closed, tears ran down her temples.

  He wanted to hold her. To take away the stinging words, but her rigid posture suggested that wouldn’t be welcome.

  So he eased himself onto the bed next to her, careful not to touch, and mirrored her posture, legs hanging off the end of the bed, arms straight at his side, and stared up at the mirror that ran the length of the canopy above.

  He’d forgotten how inventive, how uninhibited, Cherise could be.

  A bark of laughter bubbled up, but he clamped down on it before it could exit his mouth. Even he knew that would be like throwing kerosine on an open flame.

  Ada hadn’t stirred. She didn’t flinch, didn’t inch away. Her eyelids didn’t so much as flutter.

  Edison sighed. He stared up at their reflections. “I apologize.”

  Nothing.

  He cleared his throat. “That was insensitive of me. You look beautiful, so beautiful that words escaped me.”

  Eyes still closed, she snorted.

  Edison tapped his feet on the ground. “It’s the truth. You are beautiful.”

  Still no movement next to him.

  “Ada, look at me.”

  Another great sigh seemed to press her further into the bed, but her eyes fluttered open.

  She met his gaze in the mirror. “This bed is quite wicked.”

  Edison’s heart sped up. She’d just given him a sliver of wiggle room. He intended to take it. “It is at that.”

  “Have you ever…?”

  “No,” he answered quickly. “When I knew Cherise, she wasn’t installed in such grand quarters.”

  “So it’s been some time since…?”

  “Years.” He smiled at her in the mirror. “I was nothing but a headstrong guttersnipe when we knew each other.”

  “And she was the girl everyone wanted.”

  The wistful tone in her voice squeezed his heart.

  Her gaze still locked with his, Ada wiped away the tracks of her tears, then let her arms flop back to her sides.

  Edison tightened his fingers around the paper. The crackle of the pages contracting sounded too loud, too sharp in the quiet room. Now was his chance. She’d left him an opening to say something profound and healing.

  He had nothing.

  He clenched his jaw.

  “It’s all right,” she said. “I must look a fright. Had to be a shock.”

  Though her tone was thoroughly reasonable, she still looked so sad, so… bruised.

  “I appreciate the effort. I do, but I’m just not this sort of woman.” Ada sighed. “You were only being honest.”

  “I was being a horse’s ass.”

  “You looked shocked.”

  “No!” Edison jerked in denial, shaking the entire bed. Then he forced himself to lay back and caught her gaze again. “I mean, yes… but it was a good kind of shock.”

  She snorted. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make me feel desirable. It’s not part of the job.”

  Edison slammed his fist down on the mattress. “Part of the job?”

  Blasted hell. How could she not see the signs? She’d been heating his blood since the second she charged into her laboratory that night.

  He pinned her gaze in the mirror above. “My desire—as you say—is not part of the job. And while that… confection sets off your attributes perfectly, it’s the woman in it I’m interested in. Have been since the beginning.” He smiled gently. “Whether you’re wearing a satin gown or a lab smock, you have my undivided attention, Mrs. Templeton.”

  “Thank you for saying that, but it isn’t necessary.” She looked away, clearly trying to shrug off the hurt. “I don’t wish to put you in an awkward position.”

  Edison didn’t respond with words. He let his gaze rove over the sensual beauty caught in the glass above—as if he wanted to devour her.

  Which, he most assuredly did.

  He wanted to kiss her, wanted to slide his hands along the silk stockings that ended—he had cause to know—at mid thigh. And once he had her damp and willing, he wanted to make her his in the only way that really mattered.

  She was studying him back, her gaze meeting his in the mirror.

  And she was responding to his perusal, to his desire. Her breath quickened. Her lips parted.

  “What I wish to do, Mrs. Templeton, is kiss you.” Edison stared straight up into her eyes. “I’d start with your lips. After that, I’d taste your neck. From there, I’d move every so slowly down to your beautiful breasts. At that point, I’d be so filled with desire it would be hard for me not to pin you down and tear that gown straight off your body.” He paused to let his words sink in. “I’m sure you know what comes after that.”

  “Oh.” Her gaze moved to the juncture of his thighs, where his member rose against his trousers, making his desire blatantly obvious.

  She licked her lips as if eying a delightful pastry. He doubted she was even aware of it.

  That was almost his undoing.

  “Exactly.” He shifted his hips about, trying to ease the pressure now reaching a painful level in his loins. “Much as I ache to put action to words, now is not the time.”

  Ada stiffened as the spell broke. “It certainly is not.”

  Edison clasped her hand, threading his fingers between hers and holding tight. “My words may be clumsy, but never mistake them for my true thoughts.”

  The ghost of a smile touched her lips. “This would be an opportune time to share those thoughts, Mr. Sweet.”

  Expression solemn, he stared up at her face in the mirror, infusing his look with every ounce of the passion pulsing through him. “You are the most exasperating, the most intriguing, the most ravishing woman I have ever known.”

  Chapter 13

  Ravishing. He called her ravishing.

  Ada held the words close, savoring the delight they evoked.

  For today, she was a ravishing beauty who wielded her sexuality like a sword, bending men to her will. For today, she would allow herself to enjoy the power of her own sensual energy.

  The hansom slowed as a knot of carriages and wagons clogged the road ahead. Two businessmen strode down the pavement, heads bent close in conversation. One caught sight of Ada alone in the passenger seat of the hansom.

  The grin of pure male appreciation made her breath catch. His companion sent her a matching smile, and both tipped their hats.

  The hungry looks buoyed her confidence.

  She’d never had any success at being wanted, at being appreciated for her body instead of her mind. She rather liked it.

  She liked it a great deal.

  By the
time they reached their borrowed manse, she’d collected a surprising number of admiring glances.

  Not the least of which came from Edison.

  His hot gaze roved over her as he helped her down from the hansom, lingering on her lips and the low neckline of her dress.

  Cherise was right. He did look hungry. Ravenous. And ready to make a meal of her right there on the back steps.

  Ada shuddered, but it wasn’t from cold.

  Edison brushed past her and opened the door, signaling for her to wait as he entered. It didn’t take a second for him to return and hold the door wide. “All clear.”

  Ada lifted the skirts of her borrowed gown and stepped through the entry. Their hideout was cold, cold and just as musty smelling as it had been the night before.

  The chill air took on an entirely different feel when one was clad in a chest-baring gown. Even her legs felt different. Cherise had insisted on complete authenticity. Gone were her thick cotton stockings and long-wearing pantaloons and underskirts. Now her lower limbs were wrapped in the finest silk. Sheer, pliable, whisper-thin silk. The stockings caressed her calves, her knees, even her thighs.

  “Rest of the house is clear,” Edison announced. He scooped up one of the sacks and headed for the back door.

  “For the boy,” he answered her questioning look. “The lad must be hungry.”

  Somehow between the hansom and the kitchen, the desire in his eyes had been extinguished.

  How deflating.

  Of course there was a criminal to catch.

  Ada squared her shoulders. “I’ll make tea.”

  Edison nodded.

  Despite his renewed gravity, Ada found making tea in her new gown a sensual experience. Striking a match to light the stove, pumping water for the kettle, setting out the mugs, every movement allowed silk and satin to slide across her skin.

  Even if she didn’t choose more daring gowns in the future, she resolved to order silk undergarments. Regret tweaked her at all the years she’d spent in sturdy cotton.

  The back door closed and Edison reappeared at the table. “That should keep his belly full for awhile.”

  “That was kind of you.” She took the kettle off the hob.

  Though his gaze didn’t blaze with desire, she was pleased to note that he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her décolletage as she poured the tea.