Saving the Scientist (The Restitution League #2)(55)

Not that the boy was going anywhere. Like most who spent any time living by their wits, he obviously relied on his instincts, instincts that told him they were trustworthy… at least for the moment.

Edison eyed the ragged youth. He was taller than he’d imagined. Cleaner, too. Thick black hair, tangled and unkempt, fell to his shoulders, obscuring light gray eyes that sparkled with intelligence.

The boy’s head seemed to be on a swivel as he took in his surroundings. The haunted fear that froze his features when they’d cornered him was gone, but Edison knew better than to believe he’d dropped his guard.

Edison pointed at the empty desk across from Nelly’s type writing machine. “Sit.”

“Cor, this’s strange enough, then.” The boy eyed the machine, then he gave a start. Like some gleaming brass study in anatomy, the arm of Edison’s automatic butler lay on the next table over.

The lad squinted at the wires splayed out above the riveted elbow joint. “What kind o’ business you sort running here?”

“We help folks.” Nelly plopped down in front of her typing machine. “Folks as need restitution.”

“Resti-what?”

Nelly rolled her eyes. “Re-sti-tu-tion. We set things to right after the likes o’you do something bad.”

Edison ducked his head to hide a smile. Their little office girl was sensitive about being taken seriously. “Where’s Ada?” he asked.

Her gaze never leaving the boy, Nelly cocked her head toward the back offices. “In your workshop.”

He moved toward his laboratory. Before heading down the hallway, he pointed at the dark-haired boy. “Don’t steal anything.”

Nelly sniffed. “As if I’d let ’im.”

The boy crossed his arms over his chest, a look of disdain narrowing his eyes. “As if a snip of a thing like you could stop me.”

Edison chuckled. “She’s fiercer than she looks.”

“Hmmm.” The lad didn’t sound convinced. A cheeky grin creased his face as he eyed Briar in her frilly green gown. “Bleeding hell. I hope that one’s fiercer than she looks.”

Edison bit his lip, trying not to laugh. Between Briar’s cutting glare and Nelly’s disdain, it was a wonder the young idiot wasn’t burned to a pile of ash.

Thank God Meena and Crane were there to referee.

He headed off after Ada. Light spilled into the hallway from the doorway to his shop. It looked as if she’d made herself at home.

He cringed, thinking of her well-ordered, well-supplied laboratory. His jumble of unfinished projects must seem the height of amateurish tinkering to an accomplished scientist like her.

The minute he saw her slender back as she sat at his workbench, all thoughts of actual working evaporated.

He’d never entertained a woman in his workshop. Of course, he’d never met a woman who wanted to be in his workshop.

And now there was a woman—a passionate tiger of a woman—in his domain.

Voluntarily.

It was enough to make his head spin. More than enough to make him hard.

Ada looked up eagerly. “You found him? Is he all right?”

“He’s fine,” Edison moved closer. “Gave us a bit of a run for it.” He propped his hip against the thick edge of the workbench. “The lad’s lucky Meena hooked him with her parasol before Briar had time to pin him with one of her throwing stars.”

Ada sagged against the bench. “Thank you.”

Edison shrugged. “It’s what we do.”

She nodded and held an object up to the light. “Smoke bomb?”

“It is now.” He scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “I was trying to fashion a disodorizer. Clears out unpleasant scents. The odd fish odor and the like.”

Ada held the thing up, turning it about in the light and examining it from every angle. “Extraordinary.”

“Not really.” He took it from her. “Doesn’t actually work. Too much smoke.”

Ada leaned forward, sniffing at the tiny grates cut into each end. “Too much ammonium nitrate. You might try adding a few grains of iodine. It’ll slow the reaction.”

Edison blinked. That would do it. Damnation, the woman was brilliant.

And beautiful. Sinfully beautiful. Even in cabbage-scented rags, he wanted her.

Edison flexed his fingers. He wanted to do was toss her across his workbench and tear off that silly costume, wanted to pillage her mouth, then kiss his way down her chest and take her taut pink nipples between his lips and— A burst of laughter from the front office doused his passion like a bucket of freezing water to the face.

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, trying to ease the ache of his arousal.

Ada was not unaffected, he was pleased to note. Her chest rose and fell as if she were taking long, deep breaths. Her mouth was slightly parted, her pupils dilated.

He recognized the signs. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

Though gratifying, the thought only made it harder for him to back away.

Pressed back into a far corner, his automatic butler gleamed in the flickering gaslight, its one good arm hanging at its side, its shiny brass face a blank mask of disapproval.

Edison glared back. He was no stranger to lust, but Lucifer’s eyebrows, it had been years since he’d felt this kind of uncontrollable urge.