Page 8 of Suddenly a (The St. Clairs 5)

She bent, tinkering with the motor, and his breath caught. A perfect, rounded bottom rested inside those trousers. One he wanted to cup. Pinch. Sink his teeth into. As his confusion mounted, he called out again, this time shouting over the machinery.

This time, the person reached over and turned something. The motor cut off and began to die down. Hudson waited and the person turned, though Hudson couldn’t see a face with the protective mask covering it.

It was definitely a woman. The waist was too narrow. And there were breasts. Not terribly large but they filled out the shirt nicely. His hands itched to cup them.

She turned and stripped off her gloves and tossed them onto the nearby bench and then lifted the helmet she wore from her head. It, too, was placed on the bench. Then she faced him.

She was attractive. Not a conventional beauty but striking all the same. The sum of her parts added up quite nicely. Smooth skin with the slightest dusting of faint freckles on her nose. Warm brown eyes flecked with bits of gold. Cheeks full of color—and a smudge of grease across one of them. Sensual lips that caused him to take a step closer. Her fingers went to her ears and she removed what he guessed to be earplugs.

“I’m sorry if you called out. I didn’t hear you. Earplugs,” she said. “Some of the experiments get so noisy that a thick layer of beeswax is the only thing that saves my hearing. And sanity.”

She fiddled for a moment with her earlobe, pulling it down and removing the last bit of wax. Hudson only wanted to sink his teeth into that earlobe. He’d never had such a physical reaction to a woman before. Then again, he’d never seen one displaying her figure in a tight shirt and tighter trousers.

“How may I help you?” she asked, looking at him bashfully.

“You must be Lady Mia. Your servants directed me here. I am Hudson St. Clair. I had scheduled an appointment with your husband to discuss an engine he is working on.”

A hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no. I’d forgotten you were coming. I haven’t looked at the schedule for a while now. I’m so sorry, Mr. St. Clair. I—” She stopped. “You are looking for my father, Lord Morrison. I assist him in conceiving and creating his various inventions.”

She wiped her hands on her thighs and Hudson imagined placing his hands in the exact same place. Skimming them and then sliding his fingers behind her in order to cup—and squeeze—that lovely, plump bottom of hers. He imagined kissing the wonderfully lush mouth. Unbraiding and running his fingers through her caramel hair, a wonderful mix of browns and golds intertwined.

“I will need to find Papa,” she said. “He could be practically anywhere. If you’d like to wait inside the house, I’ll have the servants locate him.”

“I’ve already been inside the house and he didn’t seem to be there. Why don’t you let me help you look for him?”

She worried her full, bottom lip and a shot of desire rippled through him. He dug his nails into his palms in order to get a grip on his emotions. This was ridiculous. He was reacting as some schoolboy might, seeing a truly beautiful woman and becoming aware of sexual hunger for the first time. It was how he’d reacted a good dozen years ago and he’d had his share of women in all shapes and sizes in the ensuing years. Curvy. Slender. Blonds. Brunettes. Wealthy. And more wealthy. Average to breathtaking. What was so different about this one?

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. St. Clair. Papa... he is... well, I just think it would be best if we allowed the servants to look for him. Could you wait here? I’ll return in a few minutes.”

“If you wish.”

Lady Mia—if that’s who she was—hurried from the small workshop. Hudson enjoyed watching the sway of her hips in the trousers that clung to her every curve. Only when she was out of sight did he turn his attention to the steam engine in front of him. He moved closer, studying it carefully, deliberately not touching it because he was afraid he might start it up again.

After several minutes, the woman returned, her smile apologetic.

“The servants are looking for Papa now. I know we wrote about... that is, Papa and you corresponded in regard to steam engines. He allowed me to read your letters. I have a good idea what you might be looking for can be found in this machine. Would you like to hear about it?”

He nodded and she began a long, complicated discourse on the engine. While he’d studied up for his meeting with Morrison, her explanation went far beyond his limited knowledge. Still, she made herself as clear as she could to a layman and didn’t speak above him. Twice, she reached for a sketchpad on the bench and drew something in order to clarify the point she was trying to make. It fascinated him that a woman had so much knowledge of science and math.

“I may have oversimplified a few things but I hope you got the gist of it.”

“I did. You have a depth of understanding that puts me to shame, Lady Mia.” He addressed her by name in order to see if he’d been mistaken or not since she’d never introduced herself.

She didn’t correct him. “Papa didn’t know what to do with a girl, Mr. St. Clair. He treated me as a boy from the time I could walk. While other girls learned to embroider samplers, I was introduced to difficult math concepts and given problems to solve. If you have a sister, I’m sure she played with dolls. I had chemical compounds to mix and experiment with instead. Papa also taught me to hunt. Fish. Ride. I’m certain I’m the least feminine person of your acquaintance.”

Hudson wanted to tell her she was all woman and wished he could show her, enticing her into bed and kissing every part of her. He understood, though, that this was a woman who was extremely naïve. She hadn’t mentioned a mother, only her father, and he had taken over every aspect of her education, molding her into the son he had wished for. Because of that, his gut told him she’d had no experience with men. He doubted she’d even been kissed.

He wanted to be the first who did so.

Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of these notions and asked, “How long have you worked with your father on designing new inventions?”

She laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that only quickened his pulse. “All my life. Mama wasn’t well so I spent all my time with Papa. After she passed, it’s really only been the two of us. A few servants, of course, but for the most part, my days are spent thinking about new creations. Coming up with ideas and their designs. Trying to build them. Papa has invented several interesting things and has gained a small clientele.”

“Does he file for patents to retain exclusive control of his creations?”

“I do that for him. He’s not much for paperwork.”

Hudson began to wonder what the man did. It seemed his daughter did all the work and received none of the credit. He guessed her to be in her early to mid-twenties. Did she have any life outside of working beside her father?

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