The first of her coat’s buttons was urged free of its hole. The rest swiftly followed, coaxed into surrender—as she was herself—by the baron’s agile and dexterous mechanical hand. When he pushed the garment forward, over her shoulders and down her arms, she reveled in the rush of air that cooled her fevered skin. “I must tell you,” she whispered. “My brother, Thomas, aspires to work for you.” “I will train him myself.” The largesse of his quick offer and the joy it would bring to Thomas softened her heart. “That isn’t why I want you.” “I wouldn’t care if it was.” Annie glanced over her shoulder, her heartbeat faltering at his beauty. “Why not?” He brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “Clearly a man with my embellishments would benefit considerably by an association with an engineer of your skill, but that does not mitigate the fact that it’s the living parts of me that need you most.
