Combustion (2 page)

Lilly looked back down at the vibrator. “How much does it cost?”

“That model costs four pounds.” Astrid got to her feet. “If you're interested in buying it, you'll need this charger. Here, I'll show you how it works.”

After the transaction, Lilly held her handbag to her chest, the vibrator and its charger hidden inside. Her eyes sparkled, and with all propriety forgotten, she threw her arms around Astrid and hugged her. “Thank you so much. I'll tell Becky how wonderful you are. I'm going to recommend you to everyone.”

If she actually did, Astrid might be able to pay her rent that month. She smiled. “I hope you do.”

Chapter Three

When her guest left, Astrid breathed a sigh of relief and splashed some cold water on her face. These sessions were always exhausting, far more work than the four pounds she earned, but usually the initial effort earned her a repeat customer. Now, though, she was left unsatisfied and aroused, with no one to help her remedy the situation. She was not without resources, however.

Astrid's end table appeared innocent enough, but it also held her private collection. Sitting down on the bed, she traced her fingers over each toy, marveling again at these fine creations, and then chose her favorite. This toy was long and thick, made of smooth wood polished to a lustrous sheen. A finger-like nub of the same smooth wood protruded from the base, curling up like a gesturing hand beckoning one closer. The solid brass bottom of the device featured an array of dials. She set it aside and folded the comforter back, revealing crisp sheets beneath, and looked across the bed at the large window.

When Astrid lay in bed, she could see the entire cityscape through the window on her right. She loved that view, loved to look out on the city through the hovering gray mist and watch the droplets of rain run down the glass. Another woman might close the curtains as she undressed, letting her clothes pool on the floor and sliding naked into bed. Astrid was not another woman.

Sometimes she imagined being watched from the tenement building across the alley, some unknown occupant of a fourth-floor walk-up much like hers staring at her as she performed this most delicious of rituals. She thought about that very idea as she lay back, her naked body exposed to the cool air, and slid her hands to her breasts.

In her fantasy, the man watching her would be tall and lean, darkly handsome, with deep, brooding eyes. He would watch her undress, watch her lie down, his gaze raking over her body from across the alley. Or perhaps he would be there in the room with her, leaning against the wall opposite her bed, dressed in a dark suit and gloves—oh, yes, black gloves—watching as she touched herself.

Astrid licked her lips, feeling a bit too warm now, and slid one hand down her body until she found the soft curls between her thighs, then lower, dipping a finger down into her folds. She was wet, of course. He would see how wet she was, would see her find her tight little bundle of nerves and rub it in small circles. Tiny sparks of pleasure made her toes curl against the sheets. With her other hand, she found the toy beside her.

This was the part where she sometimes covered up, the exposure too intimate, not yet ready to risk being seen. Looking out the window, though, into the empty flat across the alley and the city beyond, a fit of daring seized her. She slipped the toy down between her legs and slid the thick shaft inside herself.

Unable to stop herself, Astrid gasped aloud, always so stunned at the perfection of the penetration. The shaft filled her deeply, completely; the external nub nestled perfectly against her clit, designed to her precise specifications. With her thumb, she flicked one dial on the bottom and felt the shaft vibrate inside her. After only a moment spent savoring that sensation, she flicked the other dial and felt the vibrations course through the clit stimulator as well.

God, that was incredible. Her muscles clenched around the firmness, and she closed her eyes, holding the vibrator steady and letting the pleasure build. He would touch himself while watching her, running his hand down his hard cock, stroking himself as she writhed naked on the bed. Astrid pinched her nipples with one hand as the toy continued to vibrate inside her, bringing her swiftly to the edge, the stimulation overwhelming her senses, until she tumbled over.

As the pleasure rolled through her, she pictured him watching her come, his eyes feasting on her body, and the thought carried her through the delicious spasms. When she finally came down, she was sweating slightly, her body glistening in the late-afternoon light still streaming in the window.

The aftermath always left her feeling a bit ashamed, but the shame was almost pleasant, a heady mixture of post-orgasm pleasure and recklessness. She left the blinds open as she cleaned up and dressed again, daring someone to look in, even though she wasn't sure what she would do if it actually happened.

Astrid brought a kerosene lamp over to her desk and drew her ledger in front of her. The figures inside were depressing. Her debt column far exceeded her income column, and the four pounds she inked into the ledger did little to remedy the disparity. With a sigh, she shoved the ledger aside again, disturbing a sheaf of parchment in the process, which fluttered to the ground.

Astrid picked up the papers and felt a pang as she looked at them more closely. When had she drawn these? A few months ago? Last year? She spread the most complete version across her desk.

Bailey's Felicitation Emporium
, she had titled the diagram in large, sweeping letters, a blueprint for the shop she someday hoped to open. Astrid traced her fingers across the paper, brushing her drawing of the front counter and cash register, the display tables showcasing different devices, the salon where guests could lounge and drink tea, the back room where her most discerning clients could sample their new purchases. Her fingers lingered on her drawing of the spacious workroom in the back, organized with shelves of tools and parts.

Astrid scoffed at her own optimism. How would she ever afford such a shop? She knew the cost, had calculated it all out in the back of her ledger, from the rent to the furniture to the little bell she would hang above her door. With her current financial situation, her shop was no more than a child's fantasy.

Her throat felt thick all of a sudden, and she tucked the blueprints away beneath her ledger.

Chapter Four

Eli Rutledge imagined many different scenarios when his cousin Edwina asked him to speak at her latest Tea and Talk committee meeting. As businesspeople themselves, the committee members would probably have questions for him about his own successful shop. He was expecting some to be interested in his talk and others to just politely put up with him. He was expecting young women and middle-aged women, fashionable women and working-class women, but he wasn't expecting the woman in the black boots.

Amidst the crowd of chattering ladies, she remained silent and alert, studying him with no trace of shyness. He could feel her dark eyes on him as he looked around the room. It took all his concentration not to stare back at her, especially as she deftly brushed a few strands of hair off her forehead, drawing attention to her short, wildly tousled brown locks. Through several quick glances, he took in her entire ensemble. In addition to her black knee-high boots, she wore a skirt that barely brushed her knees, the fabric folded up into layers bunched thick at the bottom. As was fashionable with many young women at the time, she wore her black corset over her white, stiffly pleated blouse, the first few shirt buttons undone to reveal an expanse of skin between her collarbones. Eli found himself staring, and worse, caught her gaze. She raised one eyebrow, managing to look both annoyed and amused at the same time, and he looked deliberately away at Edwina.

Sweet Edwina looked so excited that she might tremble apart. “Ladies, I am thrilled to have Eli Rutledge here with us today. As you all probably know, Mr. Rutledge is an accomplished watchmaker and purveyor of home goods, and he has a very successful business right here in the city proper. He's even a member of the London Business Council. I've invited him to speak with our group, since many of us are working to set up businesses of our own, and I thought he could give us some valuable advice. He also has news of a wonderful opportunity—”

Across the room, a hand flicked up, catching Edwina's attention, who stopped mid-sentence in bewilderment. The young woman in the black boots looked pointedly at Eli, then back to Edwina, to whom she directed her question. “If this is a women's business group, how is it that the only person we've found to give us advice is a man?”

Eli also hadn't expected a hostile audience. When he'd rehearsed this speech last night, he had hoped they would be kind, not argumentative. At Edwina's “startled deer” expression, he knew he should help. “I'll answer this, Edwina.” He turned his attention to the woman in the black boots. “That's a very good question, Miss…”

“…Bailey,” she supplied. “Astrid Bailey. And you don't need to patronize me.”

“Of course not, Miss Bailey.” Her eyes were dark and intense, framed by long, thick lashes, and even with her skeptical expression, he found himself getting lost in them. Flustered, he focused on the spot between her eyebrows instead and tried to sound calmer than he felt. “Edwina is my cousin, and she invited me here as a representative of the London Business Council to share an opportunity with all of you. It would probably be more appropriate to invite a woman, since I do respect your women's group here, but unfortunately there are no women in the LBC.” When she raised an eyebrow, he added, “A dilemma I hope to see someday remedied.”

Mollified, Astrid nodded, giving him tacit permission to continue. He still felt nonplussed, disarmed by the intensity of her stare and her hostility. He was sure he'd never met her before. Why was his presence so upsetting to her?

“Thank you, Astrid.” Edwina jumped back into the conversation, her face red. “I promise you, you'll find Mr. Rutledge's news quite interesting.”

Astrid's expression seemed to say that she doubted it, but at least she had shut up. Eli looked away from her and back to the group as a whole, most of whom looked interested and alert. Edwina nodded for him to continue. “Why don't you tell them all how you got started?”

Eli settled back in his seat, avoiding Astrid's gaze, directing his speech at the other women in the room. “My father has always been a watchmaker, and I learned my trade from him. He's owned the shop since before I was born, and I've worked there since I needed a stool to see over the counter.” Most of the women smiled at this, and he relaxed somewhat. “We had a difficult time during the Revolution, like many businesses, but managed to persevere. After the Revolution ended, I slowly took more and more responsibility for the business itself, eventually becoming sole proprietor about ten years ago. Shortly thereafter, I took my father's seat on the LBC.”

A young woman with ebony skin and a pretty pink dress raised her hand to ask a question. She was lovely, delicate; it was hard to believe she could run a business. “What have been your most significant challenges as a business owner?”

Eli rubbed his neatly trimmed beard in thought. He had prepared for a question like this. “The challenges have varied by the times. After the Revolution, in many ways it was like starting a whole new business. We had a very small customer base and had to build up our clientele almost from scratch. I'd say in that time period, branding our business was the biggest challenge. We needed to get our name out there any way we could. Now, we're established, but we face different challenges. Keeping up with current events, remaining cutting-edge with new technologies, that's what we're dealing with now. Even as an established business, it's easy to be swept aside by innovation.”

The young woman's question started a cascade of other questions from the rest of the group, which he answered as knowledgeably as he could. After all, these women needed his advice, so he had to think of them and not himself. They were far less experienced in business than he was, and his wisdom might make the difference in whether their businesses survived. It was not a responsibility he took lightly. He enjoyed the attention, their rapt gazes and thoughtful questions, all except Astrid still sitting on the settee with her arms folded, a sour expression on her face. She didn't seem to realize what a gift she was denying.

After the questions had begun to lag, Edwina glanced at the clock and clapped her hands together. “All right, ladies. I want to make sure Mr. Rutledge has time to present his wonderful opportunity to all of you.”

“Now, Edwina, it's not my opportunity. I'm presenting it on behalf of the council.” Leafing through the sheaf of documents on his lap, he found the one he sought and read directly from it. “The International Federation for Commerce and Trade hereby announces the tenth World's Fair, which will be held for the first time right here in Brittania from June 3rd through the 17th. As you may know, a World's Fair is held every five years to celebrate the achievements of inventors and artisans worldwide and give them the opportunity to compete for the coveted ‘Best In Show' cash prize. In addition to category prizes, the ‘Best In Show' prize of ten thousand pounds will be awarded to the invention deemed to best embody the spirit of innovation and excellence so valued by the International Federation for Commerce and Trade.”

Eli looked up from the document at the faces before him. “So that's my news. Brittania is hosting the World's Fair. Every business owner is invited to purchase booth space to display their best products, and any inventor can enter the contest.”

After a moment of stunned silence, the room erupted in excited babble. Through the chaos, Eli found himself searching out Astrid, looking for her reaction, wanting to win her over. Would this, finally, make her smile?

Her attention was focused on the woman next to her with the long, brown curly hair, who was chattering with animated gestures. He could make out snippets of the woman's conversation.

“…perfect for you, Astrid. With a booth, you could get some exposure, get more clients…”

Astrid stared past her friend, nodding and looking off into space. Her face was a mask of deep thought, brows knitted, her lip caught between her teeth. She wasn't smiling, but at least she didn't look so angry anymore.

Edwina clapped her hands again to quiet the group. “Ladies, ladies. Settle down. Mr. Rutledge, where can we get more information?”

“The IFCT has set up offices downtown in the bank building. They'll be giving out paperwork all week. The deadline for booth rental and contest applications is Friday the twelfth.”

“We only have two weeks to apply?” Astrid's voice made him turn. “The twelfth is two weeks away. Less than two weeks. What will we need to apply? Do we need the product in hand, or can we just have the idea?”

Eli skimmed the document in his lap. “I'm not sure, to be honest. I only have the general overview. You'll have to ask the Fair Board.” He had tried to put off thinking about the fair as long as possible, actually.

“Aren't you on the Fair Board?” Astrid raised an eyebrow.

“No. That would be a conflict of interest.” He met her gaze. “I'm planning to be an exhibitor.”

At that, her lips flicked upward in a small smile that seemed a challenge. “Well, then, I'll have to ask the Fair Board.”

After the meeting had officially broken up and everyone stood around drinking tea and mingling, Eli sidled up to Astrid, who was chatting with the curly-haired woman again.

“Miss Bailey?”

She turned, her expression guarded, and gave him her hand. “Mr. Rutledge. Thank you for your fine presentation this evening.”

“I'm all too happy to oblige.” He bent over her hand to kiss it. Heaven help him, but she smelled good, like an intoxicating perfume mixed with… Was that a faint aroma of engine grease? Realizing he was lingering, he stood back up again and released her hand. Her guarded expression had been replaced with one of amusement. “So, Miss Bailey, what is it you do?”

“I'm an inventor, actually.”

So that explained the engine grease. “What do you invent?”

The curly-haired woman next to her smiled against her teacup as she took a sip. Astrid shot her a look that seemed to be a warning, then turned back to Eli. “All sorts of things.” She waved her hand dismissively, avoiding the question. “Mr. Rutledge, have you met my dear friend Mrs. Josian Bird?”

“Charmed.” He kissed Josian's hand, his attention still focused on Astrid. “So you're going to enter the World's Fair, I imagine?”

Astrid's lips tightened slightly. “We'll see. There are a lot of variables to consider.”

“Of course.” Interesting. What might those variables be? “Have you ever attended a World's Fair?”

Astrid arched one delicate eyebrow. “I'm flattered that you think so highly of my station, Mr. Rutledge. Where were the last ones?” She tapped a finger to her lips. “Oh, right. St. Petersburg and New-Atlantic. No, I can't say I've had the means or the opportunity to make either of those flights.” She flicked her gaze upward with a slight sigh and took a sip of her tea.

“Miss Bailey, have I said or done something to offend you?” Her sarcasm and hostility were completely unreasonable given their circumstances. “If so, I'm terribly sorry. I'm just trying to make polite conversation here.”

Astrid blinked, seeming surprised by his directness, and looked down into her tea before setting the cup on a nearby table. Had he taken her off her guard at last? When she met his eyes again, her gaze was resolute. “Mr. Rutledge, I don't mean to give the wrong impression. It's very kind of you to come meet with us, when I'm sure there are other things you could be doing.” Astrid put her shoulders back slightly, straightening. “But whether you realize it or not, you're the very reason we women need groups like this.” With a wave of her hand, she gestured to the other ladies gathered in the room. “You have nothing in common with us. You inherited a successful business from your father, who was already a prominent businessman, and your greatest achievement is to not yet have run it into the ground. Other people have given you everything you've ever needed. As a man, you can get a position on the Chamber of Commerce or the Fair Board or the IFCT or the London Business Council or whatever, and know that when you talk, people will listen. And I'm very happy that you have the money to own a shop and rent a booth at the World's Fair, but to assume that everyone else is in the same position as you demonstrates how completely clueless you are about the plight of women business owners in this city. So no, you haven't said anything to offend me. Everything about you offends me.”

The room had gone silent, and Eli stood frozen, staring down into Astrid's face, into her dark eyes that suddenly widened as she realized the magnitude of what she had just said. She flushed, her face and neck and collarbones turning a rosy shade of pink, and she pressed one hand to her lips before turning and rushing from the room.

As she left, Eli watched her go with numb shock. Her words had been incredibly rude, and he couldn't help but feel stung. What shocked him the most, though, was his sudden and overwhelming urge to kiss her.