Page 69 of Affair

The workbench trembled and shook.

Baxter was dimly aware of the sound of breaking glass. Another flask had been knocked to the floor. Something heavy, the cast iron pneumatic trough, perhaps, toppled and fell. A metallic clang echoed through the room as two brass instruments rolled into each other.

Baxter ignored the chaos around him and lost himself in the whirlpool.

•••

Charlotte floated gently down out of a world that was composed of pure sensation and found herself sitting on the edge of one of Baxter’s workbenches. She opened her eyes.

Baxter was no longer embedded within her body but he still stood between her legs. He was watching her with a shuttered, fiercely intent expression.

“You should have told me that you had never had a lover.”

The eerily emotionless quality of his voice washed away the last traces of warmth.

“It was my business,” she said. “I do not see that the facts of the situation need concern you in any way. You need assume no responsibility as a result of having been my first paramour. I am not a girl, I am a mature woman.”

“Granted.” His expression hardened. “But I do not appreciate being surprised by that kind of information.”

For some ridiculous reason, she was suddenly on the verge of tears. She blinked the moisture away with an act of sheer will. She refused to cry simply because Baxter had reverted to his customary brusque nature.

This was not how things should be after such an exhilarating experience, she thought. There should be great tenderness between them now. At least for a few moments they should both be able to indulge themselves in the wonderful sense of intimacy that had enveloped them during the passionate encounter.

Perhaps her emotions were still in an unusually volatile state due to recent events. But, damnation, here she was falling in love with this exceedingly difficult man and he stood there between her thighs, scowling as if she had done something unforgivable. Had their passion meant nothing to him?

“Baxter, you are making far too much of this.”

His jaw tightened. “Perhaps I am. After all, you were as eager as I for what occurred.”

“Indeed,” she said stiffly.

His mouth twisted. He glanced down, apparently amazed to discover that his fingers were still curved around her upper thighs.

A wave of acute embarrassment swept over Charlotte. She was keenly aware of a disturbing scent that she knew must have resulted from the lovemaking. And there was a great deal of dampness between her legs. She shifted gingerly and fumbled with her skirts.

“Wait,” Baxter muttered. “I’ve got a clean handkerchief here somewhere.”

He fished around in his clothing until he produced a large square of neatly pressed linen. Charlotte flinched and blushed furiously when he used it to wipe away the traces of their passion. She submitted for a few seconds and then pushed his hand away.

“If you’re quite finished.” She managed to get her legs closed. She jerked her skirts downward and slid off the workbench.

Her knees threatened to give way. She put out a hand to catch her balance.

“Why?” Baxter asked.

She glanced at him. “I beg your pardon?”

He crushed the wet handkerchief in his fingers. His alchemist’s eyes blazed. “Why did you choose me to be your first lover?”

Damn him. Two could play at this game. She dredged up what she hoped was a cool smile. “You, of all people, sir, should understand that sometimes the urge to conduct an experiment proves quite overwhelming.”

Eleven

He had been nothing more than an experiment for her. A damnedexperiment.

Baxter’s initial rage was now inextricably bound up with a gut-wrenching sense of frustrated despair. He fought hard to conceal both behind the veil of emotionless detachment that had worked so often and so well for him in the past.

He escorted Charlotte home with a brusque civility that clearly annoyed her but it was all that he was prepared to give. She sat across from him in the carriage, her spine elegantly straight, and refused to meet his eyes during the whole of the short ride. She kept her attention fixed on the street. There was a flush in her cheeks but Baxter concluded that it was not a result of the fact that he had just made love to her. She said not a single word.

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