Combustion (5 page)

Seeming to sense his hesitation, Astrid dropped the toy back into her handbag. “So now you know why I can't ask a businessman to endorse me. Like you, they're all prudes.”

“I'm not a prude.” While he argued back, though, he wondered if it were true. No, he wasn't a prude. But he had decorum and decency, qualities Astrid Bailey seemed to lack, even if he couldn't help wishing he had her creativity. “But these devices are scandalous. They might even be illegal. I can't be mixed up in something like that.” What would the London Business Council think?

“They're not illegal.” Astrid drew herself up to her full height, which was not very significant compared to him. “And the only reason they're scandalous is because the stodgy London business owners like you are still living in the last century.”

Eli hesitated, rubbing his beard. Was he actually going to lend his good name to an enterprise such as this? Would this be the thing that ruined him, sending him into destitution as his father always feared?

And yet, what was his alternative? It was already May 2nd. The deadline to enter the World's Fair was only ten days away, and he was no closer to an idea of his own than he had been two months ago when the IFCT first green-lighted the whole endeavor. Which was worse, to associate himself with Astrid's products, or to be branded a failure for the entire town?

Looking her up and down again, he considered. Yes, these devices were risqué, but she insisted they were legal. Perhaps he could lend a bit of respectability through his endorsement. After all, his family had been business owners in London since before the Revolution, and the name of Rutledge was only associated with quality products. Plus, she was tenacious, fiery in a way he had always lacked. Her passion made him painfully aware of his own predictability. The partnership could be good for both of them.

“All right, I'll partner up with you.”

Astrid raised an eyebrow. “So you're assuming I'm going for this?”

He blinked. All that debating, and she might say no? “Why wouldn't you? I'm a pillar of this community. You're lucky to get my endorsement.” He may be predictable, but he was the kind of predictable that was the backbone of the London Business Council.

Astrid put both hands on her hips, her mouth open in incredulity. “Good thing you haven't gotten a swelled head. God, you're so full of yourself. Why should I want to share credit with you when I'm the one doing all the work here? And I get, what? Your name?”

“You get a workshop and supplies, and you also get an entry into the World's Fair. Which—let's face it—you're not going to get without me.” He folded his arms.

For a long moment, she stared at him across the space between them, considering. Then her body seemed to sag. “Fine. But I don't much like it.”

“Well, I don't much like it either, but it's probably the best we're going to get.” Eli looked at her handbag on the mantel, the place into which she'd dropped the massager. “So I'm assuming your invention has something to do with those naughty toys, then?”

“It does.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is now?” She'd piqued his curiosity, and now he wanted to know the depths of this enterprise. How many devices like this could there be?

Biting her lip, she shook her head. “Not yet. You're not seeing my collection until I have your name on that paperwork. When are you free?”

“What's today, Tuesday? I'm free tomorrow. I have a shopgirl who runs the business on Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

She nodded. “Tomorrow morning, then. Meet me downtown at the bank building at nine, right when they open, to submit paperwork. Once everything is official, then I'll take you back to my flat. We'll have civilized toast and tea, and I'll give you a tour of my workshop.”

“And then we'll be business partners?”

She hesitated. Was she still so uncomfortable with him? “Yes, then we'll be partners. Good night, Eli.”

As she pulled open the door, he called after her. “Wait.”

Her hand on the doorknob, she turned back; he was already hurrying toward her. “It's late. You shouldn't be out alone. I'll call you a hansom.”

He stepped out onto the street and flagged down a passing cab out of the fog. After slipping the driver a generous fare, he helped Astrid into the cab, his hand lingering on hers. “I'll see you in the morning, Astrid.”

She smiled. “I look forward to it.”

Chapter Eleven

As Astrid waited outside the bank building for Eli, she was torn between a desire for him to hurry up and arrive, and an equally strong desire for him not to show at all. She was in over her head already; his behavior was unpredictable. He unsettled her. When she first pulled that little vibe out of her purse, the “sample” she would show to prospective clients, her intent had been to see if he frightened easily. His reaction, though, had been quite surprising. He'd been so forward.

Remembering his initial confusion, Astrid found herself smiling. Despite her intimacies over the years, she'd never shown any of her wares to men before. Women, yes, women who were surprised and nervous and ultimately very, very happy, but never men.

She spotted him crossing the street, drawing his scarf a bit tighter around his neck against the early morning wind, grinning as he saw her waiting for him. Why did he have to be so handsome? It would be easier to continue disliking him if he didn't have those cheekbones, those deep, dark eyes, that bright smile. He jogged up to her.

“Have you been waiting long?”

“No, not long. Are you ready?”

“Yes, let's get this taken care of.” The queue was shorter at this hour of the morning, and they didn't have to wait long before they were inside the bank building. Sideburn Man was still staffing the table. Did he ever go home?

“Eli Rutledge.” At the sight of Astrid's companion, Sideburn Man stood and took Eli's hand in both of his. “So good to see you, sir. I was hoping you would turn up.” His gaze fell on Astrid. “Ah. Back again, miss?”

“She's with me, Reynold.” Eli extricated his hand. “Astrid Bailey, this is Reynold Halstead of the IFCT.”

Reynold shook her hand, the gesture perfunctory as he never looked away from Eli.

Eli took the papers from Astrid. “We're here to turn in paperwork for the World's Fair.”

“I see.” Reynold adjusted his glasses and drew some paperwork toward him. “And will this be a booth registration, or only for the contest?”

Eli answered again. “Both.” Astrid knew he would run the booth for his own shop, but the contest invention would be all hers.

The rest of the conversation took place between Reynold and Eli, and Astrid herself might have been invisible. Her annoyance at being excluded was overshadowed by curiosity, though, as she watched the process unfold. After Reynold had reviewed all the information and collected Eli's cheque, he handed Eli a written confirmation of their entry.

“All entries will be confidential until the Judges' Viewing on May 27th.” Reynold shook Eli's hand, then Astrid's. “Best of luck to you both.”

Once outside, Astrid snatched the confirmation paper out of Eli's hand, her elation laced with anxiety. This was it. Everything was official.

“I believe we're in business.” Eli turned up the collar of his greatcoat against the wind. “Now, are you finally going to show me this shop of yours?”

Astrid's flat lay just beyond the outskirts of London proper, at the edge of what could be considered a decent neighborhood. Astrid kept expecting Eli to make snarky comments about his surroundings or remind her that he was accustomed to better living arrangements, but he only looked around at the tenements and remarked that he'd never been to that part of town before.

“No, I imagine not. It isn't exactly the city.” Her key jammed in the lock, as usual, and it took a bit of force to unstick it before she could let him in. “I'm up on the fourth floor.” As they climbed the stairs, her heart quickened with more than exertion from the climb. This was the first time she'd taken a man back to her flat. Her dalliances over the years always happened at her partner's home. Although her relationship with Eli was strictly business, she couldn't help but imagine the opportunity for more as they climbed the stairs. He might be insufferably arrogant, but he was also strikingly handsome, and she would probably enjoy taking him to bed if she didn't try never to mix business with pleasure.

“All right, this is it.” Astrid unlocked her front door. Eli crossed past her, looking around as he took off his greatcoat, revealing a high-necked button-down shirt with a vest and slacks. As she closed the door behind them both, she realized they were alone together in her flat, which seemed much smaller than ever before.

Eli examined a small cog from the nearest table before setting it down again. “You really are a machinist.”

“Lady parts and all.” She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice as she went to put water on for tea. Did he think she'd been lying?

Expecting a retort, when none came, she looked up and found him examining the large glass display case of her wares. With her face uncomfortably warm, she wished the water would boil more quickly so she had something else to do. To Eli's credit, though, he eventually turned away from the display case to look around the rest of the living room.

“You have a nice flat here. I don't meet many women who live alone.” Eli sat down on the sofa. Hopefully he wouldn't notice the worn spots in the velvet, places where the maroon fabric had faded to a dusky rose color.

Astrid began setting up the cups for tea. “Well, I'm not like most women.”

“Yes, I think we covered that last night.” He pointed to the display case. “So are those…?”

“Let's have tea first, yes?” Astrid stayed near the kettle, willing it to boil, not quite ready to broach this conversation yet.

“Of course.” He continued to look unabashedly at the cabinet from across the room, his gaze curious and showing no signs of the intimidation she'd expected.

After the kettle finally began to whistle, she brought the tray over and sat across from him on the wing chair, handing over a cup to his murmured thanks.

Their conversation stayed on mundane topics like the weather and a bit of light politics, but when their teacups were at last set aside, Astrid was unable to delay any longer and got up to flip the switch that unfurled the display case.

“Brilliant.” Eli crossed the room as the panels began folding down. Astrid busied herself straightening something on one of the shelves as she felt him approach behind her, coming right up to her back, almost touching her as he looked over her shoulder. He reached past her, then hesitated. “Can I pick them up?”

Astrid nodded.

After another hesitation, Eli reached past her for a large brass cylinder, the top half of which was segmented like a caterpillar. At first, he held it as if it were fragile and could break at any moment, seeming unsure what to do with it.

“Oh, for heaven's sake.” She flicked the switch. The top segments began to rotate and oscillate in a pattern, each moving after the other in a wave, so the entire top half swiveled around in a wide circle. Eli nearly dropped it in his surprise, stepping back. He paused with his other hand near the device, then tentatively wrapped his fist around the toy as the top half continued to spiral and press outward against his hand. His expression was unreadable for a moment. This would be the moment when he blushed and stammered and got all uncomfortable, she knew it. To her surprise, though, Eli grinned instead as he switched it off.

After staring at the display again, Eli moved on to another toy, the wooden one she currently favored. This time, he showed less hesitation, flicking both dials and feeling the vibrations with his palm, then his fingertip.

He worked his way around the case, moving to one side, then to the other, and Astrid followed him, staying nearby as he investigated. Watching him handling her toys was a bit disconcerting, but not as foreign as she had imagined it would be, especially since he was respectfully quiet in his exploration. To her continued consternation, he showed no signs of discomfort, instead intrigued by all her devices. A small part of her had been hoping she could shock him out of his propriety.

Eli finally stopped when he reached the last toy in the display case, one she didn't sell very often but had enjoyed designing. The contraption's mess of small straps spilled out of his grip. “So how does this work?”

“Here, give me your hand.” This invention's complexity never seemed to appeal to her clients, most of whom wanted something much simpler and easier to use, but she felt a flush of pride in its design as she strapped it carefully to Eli's outstretched right hand. A leather band held a small pouch of machinery to the back of his wrist, and thin cords ran from the pouch to small leather loops that slipped over each finger, each with a small brass device attached, fitting between the first and second knuckles but leaving his fingertips free.

Eli flexed his hand, turning it over. “Interesting. What does it do?”

Without answering, Astrid flicked the dial on the machinery pouch. Eli jumped in surprise as his fingertips began vibrating, then smiled. “Oh my.” He touched his own arm, then reached out and touched hers, making her shy away. “Ticklish?”

“A bit.” It was easier than telling him even his most gentle touch turned her on, to her continued annoyance. He pulled away, then, and switched off the device.

“My hand feels odd now.” He unfastened the straps and flexed his fingers.

“It does that, I suppose.” She set the device back in the case.

“Now, how does your business work? Women come to you, and you sell them these…?”

“…felicitation devices.” Astrid absentmindedly fingered a gear lever that had been left on the end table. “Yes, that's how it works. I build my business mostly on referrals.”

Shaking his head, he seemed to consider his next words before speaking. “I guess I didn't know that women even knew how to use devices like these.”

It was a fair assumption. “Some women don't. I teach many young women how they work and what they can be used for.”

Astrid could see the interest in his eyes, but he didn't ask for more details. She pushed the switch that caused the display case to fold up again.

Eli leaned against the wall and rubbed his beard, considering. “Now that I've been in your flat and seen your strange devices, signed all the paperwork and have no real way out, will you show me your invention?” He caught a glimpse of a sheaf of papers spread out on her desk, picked one up. “Is this it?”

He'd picked up the blueprints for her future shop. She snatched it out of his hands. “No, that's not it.”

“Bailey's Felicitation Emporium?” He looked at her. “You want to open a shop?”

She must look like such an amateur to him, and she resented the flush of shame she felt. Ducking her head, Astrid rolled up the blueprints. “Someday. Maybe. We'll see.”

“Ah. That's an ambitious endeavor.”

Was he making fun of her? It was difficult to tell. To change the subject, she found the design plans and pulled them from the pile. “I'll show you my invention. Come sit on the sofa.”

He perched expectantly on the edge, his dark eyes looking so earnest she couldn't help but smile, some of her earlier irritation fading.

“It doesn't have a name yet.” She brought over the third version of her design and sat next to him. Her leg pressed against his through the thin cotton of her skirt, the position still seeming intimate despite the inappropriate nature of all their interactions so far, and she spread the blueprint out across both their laps.

He focused on the document, making sense of her rough sketches. “So…it's a…a…”

“A fucking machine.”

He looked up, eyebrows receding up toward his hairline. “What did you call it?”

“You heard me.” Her face felt warm.

“And why would any woman want one of these?” He peered closer, then pulled a pair of wire-framed spectacles from his vest pocket and slipped them on, the gesture so sexy she was momentarily speechless.

When she regained her composure, she considered his question. “Who would want one of these? You're kidding, I assume? The woman who doesn't have a man in her life, perhaps? Or perhaps a couple who are feeling adventurous. A man who wants to watch?”

“Or a woman who wants to be watched?” Eli looked right at her, and the room became much warmer all of a sudden. God, she didn't want to blush right then. Fortunately, he looked back down at the design. “All right, I see. So it's some sort of chair, and she sits over it, I suppose.” He traced the lines with his finger. “Like a saddle. And this here—” he tapped the illustration of the shaft, then paused, his own face coloring, “—this part moves?”

“Up and down.”

Eli remained silent for a few minutes, staring at the blueprints while rubbing his chin in thought, before exploding into speech. “My back massager! You got this idea from my back massager, didn't you?”

Astrid had to smile at his shock. “Yes. A perfect model of automated pleasure.”

“You were looking for inspiration in my shop?”

She might as well admit it. “Yes. So what do you think of it?”

“Well, the design itself will need some tweaks, I'm sure.” He mused on the paper.

“Of course. It's just a preliminary model.”

“But the idea…the idea is fascinating.” He grew serious again, turning to her. “This is going to scandalize everyone in the World's Fair. Are you sure this is legal? If this is illegal, I can't be part of it. I have standards to uphold.”

“Of course it's legal. I told you, this is my business.” Exasperated, she rolled up the blueprint and put it on her desk. The man probably never took a business risk in his life.

Eli folded up his spectacles and tucked them back into his vest pocket as she sat down next to him again. He shrugged, resigned. “I suppose I'm in this until the end, then. You have my signature on those forms.”

Astrid studied his profile, curious. She couldn't figure him out. On one hand, he seemed totally comfortable with her felicitation devices, curious about the machinery. On the other hand, when it came to business, he was stodgy and uptight. The more he clung to his propriety, the more she wanted to make him lose it. What would make him loosen up?