Page 66 of Affair

“You barely know Hamilton.”

“True, but I have sound intuition. Also, Ariel seems quite taken with him and even though she is young, her perceptions about men are generally quite solid, too.”

“Intuition.” Baxter did not trouble to hide the sarcasm in his voice. “Allow me to tell you, Miss Arkendale, intuition is an extremely poor guide. It is based on emotion, not science. It is not to be trusted.”

“Sometimes one has nothing else to go on,” she said gently.

“Enough. I shall deal with the problem of Hamilton later.”

“You cannot be certain that Hamilton was behind Miss Post’s visit.”

“It is the most logical assumption,” Baxter said. “The point here is that you had no business confronting that strange woman this morning. You had no notion of what you were walking into when you entered her house.”

“Really, Mr. St. Ives.”

“Yes, really.” He turned and started toward her down an aisle. “There will be no more such rash actions on your part while we are engaged in this affair, is that clear?”

“I must remind you that I do not take orders from you or anyone else.”

He stopped a few paces away from her. “That leaves us with a small problem, does it not?”

She put her bonnet down on the workbench with a very deliberate movement. “There will be no great difficulty so long as you play your assigned role in this business.”

“You mean so long as I remember my place, do you not?”

“I would not put it in quite those terms.”

“You had bloody well better not put it in such terms. I’m not your servant, Miss Arkendale.”

“I did not say that you were. However, I did hire you in the beginning, if you will recall. If it will clarify the situation, I am still prepared to pay you a fee for your services.”

“You dare to talk to me of a salary? After what occurred between us last night?”

She flushed and glanced uneasily toward the closed door. “There is no need to speak quite so loudly, sir. I can hear you very well.”

“I never raise my voice. Speaking in a loud voice is an indication that one cannot control one’s temper.”

She searched his face. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Dammit, Charlotte, I will not be treated as though I were your employee.” He took two swift strides forward, trapping her against a workbench. “Last night I asked you a question. You have kept me dangling long enough. I deserve the courtesy of a reply.”

She frowned. “But we are discussing Miss Post.”

“Devil take Miss Post. I told you, I will deal with her later. Just give me my answer. Will you have an affair with me?”

She stared at him, her unblinking gaze as brilliant as the fabled glow of the Philosopher’s Stone. A dreadful silence descended on the laboratory. Baxter could almost see his own words hanging in the air, glittering with a dangerous light.

His timing could not have been worse, he thought with bleak despair. It did not take the exquisite sensibilities of a romantic poet to comprehend that one did not ask a woman to become one’s lover when one was in the middle of a blazing row with her.

Charlotte shattered the crystalline silence by delicately clearing her throat. “We are discussing our business association here, Mr. St. Ives. What do personal matters have to do with this situation?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

If he had any sense at all he would step back from the blazing crucible before the explosion occurred. But he could not turn aside. The only thing that mattered now was obtaining a conclusive result to this reckless experiment.

“Nothing?” she repeated very softly.

“No, that is a damned lie. Our personal situation has everything to do with this. I need an answer, Charlotte. I shall likely go mad if you do not give me one.”

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