Saving the Scientist (The Restitution League #2)(12)

Before the new feelings could overwhelm her, Ada stared down at the remains of her meal. "I've given your warning a great deal of thought."

The intensity faded from his look. He relaxed back into his seat, neither urging her on, nor interrupting.

She liked that, liked that he didn't try to run roughshod over her with his male logic.

Ada pressed a hand to her chest, but the small buttons pressed into her palm, reminding her of his gaze sweeping over her, stoking a sensual fire. She dropped her hand to her lap and cleared her throat. “You made some excellent points, but I must ask about your fees. I'm sure it's something I can accommodate but—"

“We don't charge for our services."

"No fees? How do you manage?” Ada tilted her head. “Are you saying you simply help people, for no compensation?”

“It's what I do."

Sweet set down his fork, and rested his forearms on the table, leaning close. "I've seen what ruthless men can destroy. My family and I have the skills and the inclination to oppose them."

“A knight in shining armor then?” Manners prevented her from shaking her head in disbelief. “I’ve yet to meet such a creature. Nothing comes without a price."

“I relish the chance to change your mind about that."

Ada shuddered. He was so confident, so sure of his own strength, so deliciously male. And apparently, civic-minded.

The man grew more dangerous by the instant.

Ada forked up a bite of dry ham. The morsel stuck in her throat. She really was tired. Tired of rattling about in Harrison's lavish home. Tired of seeing to servants who'd cared little for their jobs, and even less for her.

Only Miss Peabody served with distinction. Ada would be forever grateful for her steadfast devotion to her grandmother. Except for Grandmama and her aging companion, her household was more a collection of strangers than a family, each going about their own business, most of them skating on the edge of sullen disrespect.

A household a man like Sweet would never tolerate.

"I've heard tell the king’s taken another mistress. A Frenchie this time." Grandmama threw up her gnarled hands. “That man’ll bring us to war, mind my words."

Her tone rose, heavy with agitation. Miss Peabody fussed with the shawl over Grandmama's thin shoulders and murmured low, soothing words. She exchanged a look with Ada, and nudged Grandmama's chair back, urging her up. “We might have callers this afternoon. Let’s get you into that beautiful yellow gown.”

Grandmama's wrinkled face brightened. "Oh yes, let's do. Can’t be underdressed. Those awful Willburmarle sisters could call. Can’t be outdone. They’ll crow about it for weeks.”

"Exactly.” Peabody waited patiently for Grandmama to gain her feet, then followed closely as she shuffled her way toward the hall.

Ada raised her serviette to her lips to hide a smile. The Willburmarle sisters had passed into the great beyond two decades past.

At the doorway Grandmama stopped and turned back toward them. "You do resemble Bertram," she said to Sweet. "Handsome as the day was long. And what a stallion. That man—"

Before she could utter something even more outrageous, Peabody ushered her out of the room.

Ada’s cheeks flamed. Normally the old thing’s outbursts made her grin, but hearing her suggestive remarks in the company of a strange man seemed far more indecent.

While she'd been watching Grandmama, Sweet had left his chair. He moved closer, his hands on the back of the chair next to her. "You may refuse my help, of course. But that would be exceedingly foolhardy." Sweet held her gaze. “And I have a guess you’re far from foolhardy."

Ada leaned away from him, disconcerted by his tone. Disconcerted by the unfamiliar heat from his body. Disconcerted by her own reaction. “While I appreciate the compliment, you’re hardly in a position to judge my character.”

Sweet smiled at her. It was a slow, wicked, devastating smile. A toe curling smile. “Your device is the Holy Grail of electrochemical engineering. You could hardly be a simpleton."

"Of course." Ada dropped her gaze, hoping to hide the disappointment that stabbed her at his practical response. What had she expected? The man was attracted to her battery, to her scientific skills. As it should be. He was an adventurer, a risk taker. His taste in woman likely ran in quite a different direction, periwinkle silk not withstanding.

Ada squared her shoulders. "I would very much appreciate your assistance, Mr. Sweet. And I do apologize for my earlier lack of gratitude. I'm to deliver the device in three days. If you and your league could help me stave off trouble until then, I would be grateful."

Sweet nodded, his expression grave. "I do have one requirement."

Ada swallowed hard and waited for him to explain. She tried not to concentrate on the way his thick hair fell across his forehead, the way the overlong locks begged to be tucked behind his ear.

He thrust out a hand. "My name. It's Edison. No more Mr. Sweet. No more Mrs. Templeton."

It was a moment before she could move, could form a response to his unexpected request. She slid her palm against his, shaking it politely. "Edison." His name tasted decadent—wicked—on her tongue.

Living with him—with Edison—for the next few days would be like attempting to share her home with a Bengal tiger.