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.
Once she’d served them both, Edison pulled a folded sheet of newsprint from the inner pocket of his vest. He spread it out on the table and tapped the center column. “Found this while you were… ah…”
“Preparing for my part.”
“Exactly.” He cleared his throat. “Look.” He swung the paper around to face her.
Ada frowned down at the columns of print. It was the advert section. She scanned the notice above his finger.
The more she read, the harder her teeth clenched.
Missing woman: Family members seek news of Mrs. Ada Templeton. Last seen headed toward Derbyshire in a hired carriage. Reward offered for any information leading to Mrs. Templeton’s whereabouts. Advertiser available to meet from 4 to 5pm daily at Barton’s theater through the end of the month. Any assistance in this matter would be most gratefully accepted.
Ada shoved the paper away. “That ballsy bit of goat dung.”
One dark eyebrow rose skyward as Edison studied her over the rim of his mug.
Fury propelled her back into her chair. “It’s the height of poor taste. Now he’s setting the dogs on me.”
She sucked in a breath. “The boy.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You don’t think he figured out—?”
Edison was shaking his head before she finished. “I doubt he can read, let alone afford a paper. You’ve nothing to fear there.”
An eager look—the look of a hunter readying for the chase—brightened his gaze. He tapped the paper. “This lot’s the one who should be afraid. Now we know where to find him. And when. Tomorrow by four pm this piece of refuse will be in irons.”
“Tomorrow?” Ada’s stomach dropped. “Shouldn’t we take a day or two? Construct a plan?”
She was only just learning to test with this strange new power of hers. The urge to see just how far she could goad Edison—how high she could tease the flame—was almost uncontrollable.