“How is your work coming along?” she asked, curious to know what he’d been studying. “Is it interesting?”

  He reached for his wine and took a sip, sliding a glance at her as he set the glass down, as if he wasn’t certain she was really interested.

  “Perplexing,” he said, picking up his knife and fork again.

  “How so?”

  He cut into a piece of chicken and speared it with his fork, but didn’t eat it, just sat staring at it. Minerva waited, realising he was thinking.

  “Usually, if you heat zinc carbonate to red hot, it will convert to oxide, which is white,” he began, sounding as though he was still working on the problem as he spoke. “This batch is yellow, almost orange. That would suggest it’s been contaminated with lead or iron, but I can find no evidence of either.”

  “How curious,” she said, delighted that he was discussing his work with her. “So, what will you do?”

  “Continue studying it until I understand what the cause is. I have been analysing the yellow oxide to discover why it is different. I believe I may have found something new, a metallic oxide.”

  “A discovery?” she demanded, beaming at him. “How exciting.”

  He looked at her sharply, perhaps suspecting she was teasing him, but relaxed as he realised she meant it. He smiled at her then, a genuine, proper smile that made her breath catch.

  “It is exciting,” he admitted, looking adorably pleased with himself. “I may have discovered a new element.”

  “That’s important,” she said, setting down her knife and fork.

  She wasn’t about to pretend she had anything but a very basic understanding of his work, but a breakthrough like that would be hugely important to the scientific world. Minerva stared at him in wonder, rather awed to be with him now, a little overwhelmed by how frighteningly intelligent he was.

  “I mean… it’s a great discovery, isn’t it?”

  He gave her a disarmingly sheepish expression before turning back to his dinner.

  “One must not count one’s chickens, Miss Butler. I need to do more tests before I am certain, but… yes,” he admitted. “It would give me a place in history, to have discovered such a thing.”

  “Oh, Inigo!” Quite unable to stop herself she leapt to her feet and threw her arms about his neck, kissing his cheek. “I’m so very proud of you.”

  To her surprise he blushed, and she thought she saw pleasure in his eyes, but suddenly they darkened, the pupils blown wide. His chair shifted back with a screech against the tiled floor and his hands grasped her waist, pulling her into his lap. Minerva didn’t so much as squeak a protest, being only too happy to comply. She put her arms around him as his mouth sought hers, kissing her hard. One large hand cupped her face whilst the other slid up her side, resting beneath her breast. Anticipation thrilled under her skin, a mixture of fear and desire, willing him to go further, afraid that he would.

  He drew back, staring at her as she gazed into his eyes. This close, she could see the pattern of colours clearly, the green a bright blaze circling the pupil like rays around the sun, set against a dark grey background.

  “You have the most extraordinary eyes,” she said, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek, the skin smooth now he’d shaved. She rather regretted that. She’d wanted to touch the prickle of his beard, to see how it felt. “It was one of the first things that struck me about you. They are beautiful.”

  He let out a breath, somewhere between irritation and despair. “You ought not have come, Miss Butler.”

  “Minerva,” she corrected, trailing her fingers over his jaw, to his mouth. “I think we are past such formality, don’t you?”

  There was a snort of amusement, but he didn’t disagree.

  She got up and went back to her seat, smiling at him as he sighed and returned his attention to his food.

  Once they’d eaten and Minerva had put the leftovers in the pantry, she took off the apron and found he’d left the kitchen. Pleased to be given the chance to see more of the house, she went in search of him.

  “Inigo?” she called, once back out in the hallway.

  “Here.”

  She followed his voice towards and opened a door onto a large, bright room. It had windows on three sides and a high ceiling, and was like no other she’d seen before. There was a huge table in the middle with weighing scales in various sizes, there were bell jars and books, dozens of peculiar odd brass instruments she had no name for and large copper pots. All around the room, wherever there was wall space, he’d crammed it with shelves filled with glass jars of every size, from no larger than her little finger to others she doubted she could lift. Some were empty, others full of powders or liquids, most with labels she could hardly pronounce let alone recognise. There were huge copper vats and strange shaped glass vials, pestles and mortars, and crucibles, and an odd scent lingered in the air. It was smoky and astringent, somewhat metallic and, she assumed, caused by the combination of chemicals and whatever experiments he’d been working on.

  Minerva moved cautiously into the room, afraid to jostle anything for fear of ruining some crucial part of the procedure.

  She discovered Inigo watching her, as though some wild creature had crept into his laboratory and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

  “Fascinating,” she said, aware that he must see the excitement in her eyes. She felt flushed with it, with the honour she knew was being extended to her, to allow her here of all places.

  He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it as messy as when she’d first arrived and she smiled, finding him more charming than ever when he was dishevelled.

  “So, this is where the great man works.”

  “Hmmm,” he said, darting a look at her before turning his attention to putting a stopper back into a bottle of white powder.

  “Will you show me the experiment you are working on?”

  “No.”

  Minerva sighed. “You think I won’t understand it, I suppose?”

  “No. I think you are a pain in the neck and I want you to go home.”

  “I could help you, act as your assistant. I’m good at following instructions.”

  He turned and glared at her. “Like when I told you to go away and leave me alone?”

  “Instructions I want to follow,” she clarified with a smile.

  “Hmph.”

  Minerva sighed, sensing she was not going to get anywhere today. She wanted to understand him, his work, to help even—if he would allow her. Cleary she was pushing too hard to expect that.

  “Do you always work alone? You don’t have assistants?”

  “Sometimes,” he said, hefting the jar back on the shelf. “When I can afford them.”

  “You ought to be paid more for your work,” she said, frowning. It was wrong that this brilliant man struggled to make ends meet when he was making discoveries that would help shape the history of science. “You need a sponsor. Artists have them, so I don’t see why you ought not. I’m sure Bedwin would be interested if you approached him.”

  He frowned, turning to look at her. “I’m unlikely to get another chance to speak with him and….” His brow furrowed, a troubled glint in his eyes. “No,” he shook his head. “I couldn’t….”

  “No, but I could,” she said, laughing at his shocked expression. “Oh, don’t look so scandalised. I can do it discreetly. It’s not like I’d ask outright, just… put the idea in his head.”

  Inigo’s eyes narrowed. “I begin to fear you’re more calculating than even I imagined.”

  “Calculating?” Minerva’s placing her hand on her heart. “Moi? As if. That’s a very cruel accusation.”

  “You deny it?” he asked, amused now, watching her as she manoeuvred around the room towards him. “You beguiled me into giving you my card by pretending you were afraid you were not clever enough to understand the book you had, and then you plagued me to death with questions and flirtation until I was browbeaten into inviting you to my lecture to avoid the prospect of you making a terrible scene.”

  “Don’t forget the kiss,” she said, moving closer to him, looking at him from under her lashes. “I kissed you when you were wounded and unable to defend yourself.”

  “So you did,” he murmured, his voice pitched low, intimate. “You are a wicked, dreadful creature.”

  Minerva tilted her head to one side. “But you said women and men were equal, that you don’t believe in love or marriage. Why is it terrible of me to pursue you if I want you? It’s what a man would do, isn’t it?”

  His breath caught, his eyes growing dark.

  “You really want me that badly?” he said, looking so perplexed by the idea that she laughed a little.

  “I really do.”

  He moved towards her and put his hands to her waist, lifting her and setting her down on the edge of the table. Minerva squeaked and looked behind her.

  “Don’t let me knock anything over,” she said in alarm, clutching at his arms, panicked by all the scientific equipment around her.

  “Let me worry about that.”

  She let out a breath and stared up at him, finding him staring back down at her, so close, such heat and desire in his eyes. Minerva licked her lips, a little nervous now, and her heart beat harder as his gaze fell to her mouth, tracking the movement.

  “Do you want to go home now?” he asked.

  Minerva shook her head.

  “I will take whatever you offer,” he warned her, and she understood it was a warning.

  “I know,” she whispered, reaching up to press her lips to the corner of his mouth.

  She moved her mouth over his in small, slow increments until he lost patience and tipped her head back with one large hand, taking the kiss he wanted. Strong fingers tangled in her hair, tugging a little though it was not unpleasant. His other hand grasped her waist, his palm burning through her gown as it slid up her side to linger once more beneath her breast. Minerva melted into him, surrendering to his will, beguiled by the slick slide of his tongue against hers until she was breathless, almost panting. He released her, trailing his lips over her jaw, down her neck while the hand which had stilled beneath her breast moved higher, cupping and squeezing as Minerva gave a shocked little cry. His thumb rubbed against the material, across the peaked nub of skin beneath and she jerked, surprised by the jolt of pleasure, torn between bolting and begging for more as she saw the raw look in his eyes.

  “Still want to stay?”

  “Yes.”

  Inigo kissed her again, harder and deeper and she leaned into his touch, seeking more. He gave it, a gentle pinch of her nipple with thumb and forefinger that made her gasp. Inigo gave a soft grunt of satisfaction, releasing her mouth once more. This time his hands rose to the pearl buttons that fastened the bodice and Minerva could do nothing but sit, still and obedient, waiting for what came next. She was dazed, her blood fizzing in her veins like champagne, more alive than ever in her life before as she watched him, her eyes fixed on his face as he concentrated on the buttons. She wondered if this was how he looked when he was working, so intent, as though nothing else in the world mattered. Her breath caught as he parted the open neck of her gown, tugging it down over her shoulders.

  Belatedly, she glanced at the windows surrounding them, relieved to see they were not overlooked, as a high wall bordered the garden beyond and trees made it secluded and private. She turned back to him, struck by the look in his eyes. He seemed just as stunned as she felt.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you love me?” she demanded, even though she knew the answer.

  “I don’t love you, Miss Butler.”

  “Minerva.”

  “Minerva,” he murmured, breathless now, his gaze fixed upon her breasts, covered only by her thin chemise and the short corset which pushed them up, as though offering them to him.

  “Oh, come now,” she coaxed, determined to have him give something, or he’d keep returning the same answer no matter if it were true or not. “You cannot tell me you have no feelings at all. Let us say zero is indifference, which I do not believe. One is an appreciation of someone’s better qualities, like you feel for someone you’ve just met and think you might be friends with. Two is a friend, three a very good friend, and so on….”

  “Fine. One,” he said, tracing a fingertip over the curve of her breast, flirting with the edge of the chemise, teasing her. His touch was distracting, making her shiver but she fought to concentrate.

  “I thought we were already friends.”

  “You said, that, not me.” His voice was rough now, his gaze fixed to the place where his fingers trailed back and forth over her skin. “So soft,” he murmured, and she wondered if he realised he’d said it aloud. The words were so reverent.

  She stared at him, captivated by the look in his eyes. He was breathing hard. “How much do you desire me?” she asked, her voice low.

  He made a sound which might have been a laugh but sounded a little too desperate, a little too ragged to be amused. “Too much.”

  He cupped her breasts with both hands, kneading them gently before ducking his head and kissing one rounded swell. Minerva let out a shaky breath and sank her fingers into his dark hair as he blazed a fiery trail of damp kisses over her skin, dipping his tongue into her cleavage. This made her shiver so hard he chuckled and did it again. He drew back and gave her corset a hard tug down before pulling at the bow on the neckline of her chemise, loosening it.

  Minerva could hardly breathe now. Helena had warned her this was dangerous, not that she’d needed anyone else to tell her. Inigo had told her what would happen. She had lost her wits over this man, she knew she had, but couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted his hands on her, wanted to touch him in return.

  Cool air fluttered over her skin and she gasped as he exposed her breasts to his hungry gaze, and he did look hungry: famished, as if he would eat her alive. He didn’t move for a long moment, just stared at her, transfixed.

  “Why are you here?” he asked, his voice scratchy and uneven. “God, you’re so beautiful. Why are you here with me, throwing yourself away…?”

  “Because I want you,” she said, meaning it, “Because I want to know you, understand you. Because I can’t not come to you.” She leaned towards him and kissed him. “Seven,” she whispered against his mouth and he gave a soft bark of laughter.

  “You’re insane,” he murmured against her lips. “Beautiful and insane and deadly. You’ll drive me distracted yet, Minerva. Goddess of wisdom and one mad fool.”

  He pressed his mouth to the tender spot beneath her ear, licking and biting his way down, down, until his lips closed over her breast and Minerva cried out, clutching at him, holding his head against her as he suckled and nipped at the hard bud of flesh under his tongue. The sensation was intoxicating, making her ache and moan and want more, so much more.

  “Inigo,” she gasped as her head fell back. She was on fire, molten and beyond knowing what exactly it was she wanted but knowing she had to have it. “Oh, please….”

  His lifted his head, trailing kisses back up her neck to her mouth, kissing her, devouring her as he filled his hands with her breasts. He moaned, the sound so thrilling that Minerva wanted to laugh with the joy of it, but then he moved away. It was an oddly fierce movement, snatching his hands away from her body like she’d scalded him.

  Minerva watched him, perplexed as he put distance between them, his hands going up to clutch at his hair.

  “Christ,” he murmured, his chest rising and falling as though he too had run from monsters. “I can’t….” He took a deep breath and let it out again, slowly. “You need to go, Miss Butler.”

  Oh, they were back to Miss Butler again.

  “Why?”

  He gave a laugh which sounded just a little hysterical. “Do you want a scandal? Is that it? Do you think the attention will be exciting? I promise you, it won’t be. You’ll feel ashamed, your friends will shun you, and men will proposition you because they’ll think you a whore.”

  The words were hard and angry, and Minerva blushed, tugging her chemise back over her breasts.

  “Is that what you think?” she asked softly. “Do you think me a whore?”

  The rigid line of his jaw softened, and he shook his head. “You know I don’t. Women feel desire the same way men do. To believe otherwise is just wilful ignorance. If the world were another place, we could take our pleasure and enjoy it and move on, but the world is cruel and judgmental and full of consequences, and it is you who will endure them, not me.”

  Minerva stared at him, wishing she knew him well enough to read him, to know what was going on in that brilliant mind. “Is that all you want, Inigo? To enjoy me physically and then move on and forget me?”

  “Of course,” he said at once, and Minerva wondered if perhaps he’d been a bit too ready with the answer. He’d looked away from her, though, so she had no way of learning anything from his expression. “I’ve made no secret of it, Miss Butler.”

  “Minerva,” she said again, though his words had made her confidence falter. Why, she didn’t know. She’d told herself she had no illusions. He’d been explicit in his desires and what he would or would not give from the start and it had changed nothing. “So, you don’t want me to come back again?”

  “It… would be best if you did not.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  He made a sound of frustration, turning to glare at her. “I want you to come back so I can take you to bed. You’re a beautiful woman with a warm, willing body and I’m a man. Two plus two will always equal four, you little fool.”

 

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