As he scooped the shell back up, Ada covered his hand with hers. “Let me.”
Just that casual touch sent an electrical current straight to his very core. Just by breathing, the woman could make him hard.
She slid the shell to her side of the bench and reached over him to grab the jar. “Three grams?”
“Uh…” Edison heard the question, but the urge to grab her and kiss her silly interfered with his ability to form words.
Her sly smile betrayed the fact that she sensed his conundrum.
Open mouthed, Edison watched her fill the shell, her movements swift and precise.
It was enough to make his head spin.
When had he become such a ninnified school girl?
Ada snapped the smoke bomb closed and dusted off her hands. “That should do it.” She slid the device back to him. “How many do you plan to take?”
Edison stared down at the three bombs lined up on the bench. “These’ll do.”
He didn’t expect to need any devices for a meeting at the Admiralty, but one never knew. It cost nothing to arrive prepared.
Failing to plan could cost everything.
Ada was holding one of the bombs up to the light. “These really are ingenious.”
Edison shrugged. “I’d like to devise a real disordorizer. That would be ingenious.”
The girlish, carefree grin she sent hit him like a blade to the heart. “No reason we can’t.” She held up the last empty shell. “Which scent should we try?”
“Cherry.” He loved cherry. Cherry crumble. Cherry tarts. Tea cakes with cherry cream filling.
Ada grabbed a scrap of paper. Before he knew it, she was scribbling down equations. “How much powder do the chambers hold?”
“Ten fluidrams.” The answer came without thought. He’d been working on the things for months.
She nodded in acknowledgement and pulled several jars down off the shelves. “I’d start with four fluidrams of bicarbonate to six of silica gel. I’ll leave the scent to you. Those chemicals are inert. They shouldn’t affect the reaction.”
Edison could only stare. Had he died and gone to some sort of inventor’s version of Heaven?
How had he never met a woman who’s mind was as arousing as her body?
*
“I’ve been wondering,” Ada asked as she measured, “how in the world did you learn such extraordinary skills?”
Edison leaned against the workbench and shrugged half-heartedly “Born into a thieving family. We didn’t have a choice.”
“Was it hard?”
“Not at first.” He flicked an empty deodorizer shell, making it spin like a top. “Our fathers treated it as a game. Who could twitch that cashmere shawl without being noticed? Who was quickest opening the lockbox at the church bazaar? It wasn’t until we grew up that the three of us sprouted consciences.”
“It seems odd your parents would expose you to such risks.”
Edison laughed, but it far from a joyful sound. “Our mothers both passed on young, and our fathers…” He shrugged. “Our fathers were just bloody awful parents.”
Ada nodded, her attention on the disodorizer. “Mine failed in other ways.” She stared up at the shelves. “It would have taken an exceptional woman to turn me into a social success, but my mother didn’t even try.” Her shoulders rose and fell as if she were shrugging off the memory. “Once it became clear I took more interest in beakers and potions than kid boots and lace, she threw up her hands.”
Edison folded his arms over his chest, intent on her every word. He had the sense she didn’t discuss such things often.
“You married well,” he said.
Her sad smile hit him in the midsection.
She wiped her hands on a rag. “Harrison was kind. He even indulged my passion for chemistry.” She raised her head until her gaze met his. “Unfortunately, he was my father’s protégé. Passion wasn’t something we shared.”
“I understand.” He shouldn’t press, shouldn’t go anywhere near such a volatile subject, yet he found the words tumbling from his lips. “What now?”
Raised eyebrows signaled her confusion.
“Now that you’ve discovered passion?” Edison closed his hand over hers. “What now?”
Ada met his gaze. The dark center of her eyes dilated. Her breath became short and shallow.
He couldn’t be certain, but he imagined that her pulse quickened against his palm.
Her lips parted. “I—"
“Need any help?” Meena called out, jarring Edison out of the sensual fog. She poked her head into the room.
He pulled his hand back as if he’d touched a hot stove rather than a willing woman. “All good,” he shouted rather more sharply than he’d intended.
“I see.” She grinned, in no way put off by his gruff response. A twinkle of amusement reached her eyes as well. “I think we’ll be off then. Henry is in dire need of clothes, and Nelly loves to shop. Who would have guessed?”
As she didn’t seem to require a response, Edison remained silent, hands balled into fists at his side, trying to appear as if he had no idea there was a sensual, willing creature a hand’s breath away.
“I’ll send Spencer and Briar home in your hansom. She has a lesson with Master Tadeoka this afternoon. Spencer can drive her,” Meena prattled on. “I’ll take Harvey and Nelly to the haberdashery. We’ll be back in time to drive you to your meeting.”
They were leaving. The lot of them. Edison had to force himself to concentrate on the rest of her words.
“I’m sure you two have a few more things to sort out.” Meena waggled her fingers and disappeared back down the hallway.
He couldn’t have sworn to it, but he was almost certain she was chuckling.
The clock seemed to tick more loudly in the resulting silence.
Ada set the open shell in front of him. “Time to add your scent.”
“Right.” Edison searched the disorganized space for the vial of cherry-scented elixir he’d fashioned weeks ago, but his ears were straining to hear the front door close behind the group.
By the time Ada filled the container with his elixir, the front door closed behind the chattering group, leaving the offices ringing with silence.
The snick of the two halves if his disodorizer fitting together echoed in the quiet. Ada set the device on the countertop and drummed her fingers on the thick wood.
Her edginess infected him as well. Anticipation hung in the air between them like a physical presence. He felt like a damned school boy who hadn’t the least idea how to seduce a woman.
He could at least secure the door. He pressed the door closed and engaged the lock.
Ada had moved away from the bench to study his half-finished automaton. She bent down, frowning at the open back of the butler. “Is that mechanical spring working an adequate power source?”
Her violet scent surrounded him as Edison joined her peering at the jumble of wheels and pulleys and metal springs inside the main chamber. “No. It’s been the biggest hurdle. Can’t build a flywheel big enough to power it for more than a few minutes.”
Ada knelt down, peering deeper into the chamber. “I think I have a solution to your power issues.”