the secret room.
“Whoa. So that’s what that ‘I’ll be damned’ was all about.” She moved in closer, careful to pick her way over and around clumps of books. She stopped about ten feet away, when the tumble of books completely blocked her path. And his exit. “Did you know about the hidden room? Is the door what triggered the avalanche?”
“No, and, sort of.” Sighing internally, he accepted his fate as gracefully as possible, and pushed himself to a stand. Fortunately, everything seemed to work and he didn’t feel any noticeable injury.
She kept the beam of light on the open doorway, but the high-powered flashlight illuminated a fair amount of the room, making it easy for Trevor to pick his way through the books to her side, while also neatly blocking her view of the newly found hidey-hole. He had no idea what was in there, but no way was she going to search it before he did.
“Why don’t we head back upstairs? I’ll tackle all this in the morning.”
“You don’t want to see what’s in the room?”
“Whatever it is, it’s been there for some time and certainly won’t be going anywhere before morning.”
“But—”
“I wouldn’t mind tracking down a bathroom with a medicine chest, preferably one stocked with some kind of pain reliever.” Which wasn’t entirely true, he felt fine, but it certainly sounded plausible enough. He paused behind her and shifted his body in a way that indicated she was supposed to turn in front of him and lead the way out. One thing he hadn’t counted on was all that curly hair, and that fresh scent that seemed to linger on her, combining to weaken his already vulnerable state.
She held her ground, and he found himself unwilling to do anything more aggressive to move her. Well, he was having aggressive thoughts, but they had nothing to do with bodily removing her from the room. More like removing things from her body…Maybe he was wrong about needing something for his discomfort. He needed something much stronger than an aspirin, however. Preferably something shaken, not stirred. He was stirred up plenty already.
“Emma, please, can we just—”
“Why were you looking for candles in a bookshelf?” she interrupted.
A quick look at her face told him she wasn’t just making casual conversation. Her expression was more like Jack with a tasty piece of rawhide; determined and single-mindedly fixated. She wasn’t going to be easily misdirected.
His respect for her grew, even as his brain worked quickly to find some way out of this latest round. She cut him off before he had a chance to figure out a solution.
“What is it you don’t want me to see?” She quickly flashed the light past him toward the room.
He had to curl his fingers in to keep from reflexively grabbing for the flashlight and thwarting her attempt at discovery.
Then she was lowering the beam, and looking directly back at him. Any other time, he’d have been drawn in by the way her eyes got darker when she was serious, the way her lips pursed, making the bottom one look almost bee-stung. So at odds with her strong cheekbones and jawline. Which shouldn’t surprise him. Everything about her was at odds with him.
“What are you really looking for?” she asked.
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off, again.
“And don’t try to talk me in circles, okay? You’re here looking for something. And it’s not an alternate light source. You wanted me out of the way when you left me upstairs earlier, you wanted me out of the way when you sent me candle hunting, and you want me out of the way right now. You’ve done a really good job. If the ladder hadn’t fallen earlier—”
“I wouldn’t be wanting a pain reliever and a stiff shot of something strong,” he said. “But it did, so I’d really like—”
“I’d really like some answers.”
Why was it he was fighting a smile, when he should be frustrated as all hell? “You seem to have forgotten which one of us is the Hamilton here.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything. You’re interfering with the job I was hired to do. And, inadvertently or not, you’re trashing the joint. A joint I’m responsible for maintaining. It’s bad enough the power is out and God knows what is spoiling or…or going bad because of it. Not to mention the heat going off, and things freezing outside, like pipes, or—or, whatever.”
He couldn’t help it, he did smile. She was babbling again. Imperfect human that she was. One he was finding himself unavoidably and increasingly attracted to. But his grin was certainly not the reaction she’d been aiming for, which she proved by thumping him on the upper arm.
“Hey!” he said, rubbing at the spot, more to make a point than because she’d hurt him in any way. “No hitting.”
“Fine. If you call no hitting, then I call no being obtuse. You said you were here to surprise Lionel with a visit. I’m thinking the surprise part was that he wasn’t supposed to know about your visit at all.”
“So, are you saying you’re going to contact him and tell him I’m here?”
“I’m saying now would be a good time to tell me what’s going on so I can make an educated decision, instead of being backed into a corner and forced to make a knee-jerk one.”
His lips quirked. “Why do I get the feeling you’re thinking the key word in that little dissertation was jerk?”
She sighed and dipped her chin briefly, before looking back at him. Though she had no problem standing up to him, he guessed confrontation wasn’t typically her style. If either of them was frustrated as hell, at the moment, it was her. But then there was also the way she jiggled the flashlight in her hand. Like someone who was nervous. Only she was staring him right in the eye. Which begged the question…exactly what was fueling those nerves?
Which was something he had no business even thinking about. He had to scramble and scramble fast here. Everything was on the line, and she was standing right in the way of him getting what he came here for. Now was definitely not the time to be wondering what she’d do if he leaned in a bit closer. Then closer still. He was lifting a hand before he realized he’d put thought to deed. He managed to check the action before he touched her face, and instead toyed with a few of the curls framing her face.
“Don’t—don’t think you can distract me,” she said. Quite unsteadily, he noticed.
His body really noticed.
“You’re not answering my questions,” she added, but she didn’t jerk her head away, or back up so his hands would no longer be in her hair.
“I’m not trying to be frustrating,” he said, thinking hair as curly as hers shouldn’t feel so soft and glossy. He let another coil wrap naturally around his finger. “In fact, you have no idea how badly I’d like to reduce the frustration for both of us. At least for a few hours.”
The jiggling stopped. But her gaze stayed locked on his, and he could see her throat work. Which brought his attention to that slender column, and made him wonder how the tender skin beneath her ear would taste.
“I read you wrong earlier, when
