Читать книгу To All A Good Night - Jill Shalvis - Страница 11

Trevor tried not to feel bad about sending Emma off on a wild goose chase. Lionel wasn’t one for perfumed-scented anything and, other than some long tapers that the housekeeper had probably stored away somewhere for the dinner parties Lionel never gave, Trevor was pretty certain there weren’t going to be any candles anywhere in the house. The one he’d found in here had been encrusted in some kind of antique brass family heirloom that was God knew how old.

It had just been a convenient cover for his need to snoop around. He’d been a little surprised that there hadn’t been an industrial flashlight of some kind to be found in his cursory look in the kitchen earlier, but, if there was, he hadn’t found it. Possibly there was one in the garage, though there weren’t really any tools stored there. Or in Lionel’s specially designed, but never used, workshop. He’d had that built more for appearances than anything. He could build entire conglomerates, but Trevor was pretty sure he’d never seen his great-uncle with an actual tool in his hand, much less building something with them.

However, the workshop was in a detached building, located down the hill from the house and, at the moment, out of reach while the ice storm continued to rage. And beyond that, he wasn’t really sure where else to look. So, instead, he’d used what there was of Emma’s flashlight, and searched for something else entirely.

He shoved more books out of the way, trying to be careful not to crash the ladder the rest of the way down on his head. He’d been skimming the spines of all the books starting at the top of the tall cases, balanced on the attached rolling ladder while he searched. And he’d been doing just fine until he’d made it halfway down the ladder, halfway down the stacks, when the whole damn contraption derailed and sent him and the ladder sailing sideways. He’d tried to grab at the shelves, which were built into the wall, only they seemed to give, which had made no sense to him at the time but he’d been too busy protecting himself as he and an avalanche of books went cascading down to the floor to think much beyond it.

Emma’s flashlight, which had been on it’s last dregs of power anyway, was presently buried in book rubble, leaving him to sift through things by touch, praying he wasn’t going to somehow bring the entire bookcase down on his head.

Which, as it turned out, given the creaking sound of moments ago, was a rather valid concern.

He carefully continued to shovel books to one side and the other as he made his way to the newly created opening in what had been a wall of bookcases. The opening had been revealed when the bookcase he’d been dangling from swung loose from the wall it was supposedly built into.

Lionel wasn’t really a gadget kind of guy. Despite keeping his business sense on the cutting edge, privately he was more the old school type when it came to gizmos and new technology. However, his wife, Trevor’s favorite great-aunt, Trudy, had loved technology, and puzzles, and figuring out how things worked. Unsurprisingly, she was also a fan of mystery novels and could usually solve the riddle of the plot long before any of her contemporaries.

Since this mountain retreat had been her sanctuary, especially during the latter years of her life when she’d been ill, and long hours spent reading her favorite novels had been the mainstay of her entertainment, Trevor could only suppose that Lionel had had the secret room built as some kind of treat for his wife to enjoy.

Or, it could be where Lionel hid things he didn’t want anyone to find.

Trevor usually thought of Lionel as an empire builder and stern patriarch. It was rare to think of him as a devoted, loving husband, though, from all accounts, he had been. Still, Trevor wasn’t entirely inclined to believe the secret room was simply a loving gesture, no matter how much Lionel had doted on his late wife.

Wishing he had the flashlight, Trevor crawled into the opening, leaving the mass of fallen books in a wake behind him. He stopped just inside the gap, as the black void in front of him made the total lack of light in the study seem bright by comparison. He sighed in regret. He’d have to wait until morning, when at least some daylight would penetrate the big windows of the main room.

And find some excuse to keep Emma away from this room, which meant keeping her out of the study altogether, since he had no idea how to put the wall and case back together. Which, with all the books on the floor, would take some time, even if he did. He scooted back out, shoving at books again, when a bright beam of light flashed into the room and skimmed over its contents, before pinning him to the spot as he shielded his eyes.

“How very…Humpty Dumpty of you,” Emma said from her stance in the doorway.

Great. Just great.

“Hey,” he said, with feigned enthusiasm, “you found a flashlight.”

She stepped just inside the door. “Bedside drawer in one of the guest rooms.” She patted the pocket of her fleece vest. “Extra batteries, too.”

“Could you lower the beam a little?”

“Oh, sorry.”

Unfortunately, she both lowered it and shifted it slightly to the side. The side with the gaping doorway to 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 we initially met, about your intent. I—I’m not reading you wrong now, am I?”

He just shook his head.

She drew in a shaky breath, and let it out again. “Right. Well, I know you’re probably used to this,” she said, her voice a bit tighter, and a bit lower.

“This?” he queried, letting his gaze drift from her neck to her mouth. It really was quite sinful looking. His own watered at the thought of sampling it.

“Using seduction, getting your way,” she said. “You’re…a very attractive man. I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

He immediately looked into her eyes, and noticed how carefully still she was holding herself. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“I don’t play these kinds of games,” she said, her voice more than a bit shaky now. “I’m a pretty direct person.”

“Games?”

“I’m not naïve. You want to distract me from whatever it is you’re up to, and sending me on wild goose chases wasn’t working, so…”

He realized what she meant, and realized he shouldn’t be insulted. She couldn’t be blamed for thinking exactly that. Besides, she didn’t know him. Still, it stung that she didn’t think his interest in her was sincere. But, just to clarify things, he said, “So, you think I’m trying to seduce you. As a means of distraction. Or as some kind of persuasion, so you won’t call my uncle.”

“Yes. Maybe you don’t even realize you’re doing it, maybe it’s second nature to you, but it’s not to me. It’s—”

Now he cut her off. With a kiss. His hand was fisted in her curls, finally, and he drew her mouth to his. There was nothing aggressive about the kiss, or threatening, or even demanding. But she was right about one thing, it was intentionally seductive. Because he definitely wanted to taste her, and he wanted her to like it. Beyond that, he didn’t much seem to care where it got him, or what it got him. It wasn’t about that. He just wasn’t quite sure he’d ever get her to believe that. Not when he couldn’t quite believe any of this himself.

But not because she wasn’t worthy. He didn’t think in those terms. He didn’t believe this was happening, but that was because he’d come there looking for one thing. One very specific thing. And, it appeared, had found something else entirely.

She froze at the contact of his mouth on hers, and her lips—those lips—didn’t open beneath his. “Trevor,” she said, against his mouth, the soft friction making him groan a little.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, meaning it, though he knew she had no reason to believe him. “I just—I’ve been dying to do this since we met in that hallway.”

She pulled back enough to look at him. “I may not run in your circles, but don’t insult my intelligence.”

His hand was still in her hair, her lips were still tilted up to his, and his gaze searched out hers. His body raged at him to take that mouth again, until it was pliant and open beneath his. “What circles do you think I run in?”

“Hamilton ones. Privileged ones. Ones that think nothing of toying with people to get what they want.”

“That’s not remotely who I am.” He lowered his mouth again. “I know you can’t know that, but that cliché couldn’t be further from the truth of me. I don’t assume anything with you, or anything else. I just know you fascinate me, and I want to kiss you, taste you, know more of you.”

“Because I’m standing in the way of you getting what you want. That’s the only reason you even noticed me. If we’d met anywhere else—”

“I’d have noticed this.” He wrapped his hands more deeply in her never-ending mass of curls. “And these.” He dipped in and dropped a hard, fast kiss on those lips. Then he looked into her eyes. “I’d have noticed you, even if you’d never spoken to me. I don’t know what I’d have done about it, but I’d have noticed.”

She stared into his eyes, and he hoped she saw the truth there.

“Then you did speak to me. And you didn’t pull any punches, even after you found out who I was. Maybe even more so. I’m not used to that, and you can’t possibly know how refreshing that was.” He edged closer to her. “How much more attractive that made you to me.”

“Because I didn’t suck up to you?”

“Or come on to me.” A grin edged his lips upward. “Though I did notice you looking at me. A lot.”

Even in the dim light, he could see her cheeks actually pinked, which, considering how direct a person she was, intrigued the hell out of him.

“Normally the staring is a signal for me to run and run fast.”

Now she frowned. “Because…?”

“Women who stare are usually formulating strategies. Strategies that have a lot more to do with my last name and supposed bank account than about me personally.”

“I wasn’t—wouldn’t—”

“I know,” he said, his smile widening. “You just looked. Honestly, openly, and pretty frankly.”

“I didn’t think you saw. I’m sorry if you felt…I don’t know, demeaned? You’re right, I don’t know you. I am shallow enough to say I liked what I saw, so I looked.” Now her lips quirked. “Maybe a lot. You’re also right that there was no game plan. I had no intention of following through on…” She trailed off, apparently realizing she was giving more away than she’d intended.

“On your attraction to me?”

“I didn’t think it was mutual.”

He traced the finger with her hair coiled around it down over her cheek and across her lips, his gaze following the motion. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

Her skin warmed under his touch, and her pupils expanded. “You’re either incredibly good at playing women—and I’m still not entirely sure I trust you…or you—”

“Really mean what I say? I always do.”

She moved back, just a fraction, enough so that his fingertips were no longer brushing her chin. “Okay. If you want my trust, and you want more than the one kiss you stole, then let’s put a foundation to this attraction.”

He was already in it now, but that comment should have sent him scrambling for the door. Instead, it also intrigued the hell out of him. And, it was rather shocking to realize that he was perfectly okay with doing whatever it took to prove he meant what he said, to gain her trust. Mostly because, at that moment, it had absolutely nothing to do with distraction or the reason he’d come here, and everything to do with her. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said, as sincere as he could be.

“Then you need to get out more. I’m quite ordinary.”

“There is nothing ordinary about you.”

“Trevor—”

“What did you mean, about putting a foundation to this attraction? What can I do or say to prove I’m not just using you for my own personal gain?”

“I was just pointing out that, although we’re both consenting adults, in a dark house in the middle of an ice storm, and, yes, it’s true, I am attracted to you—I’d have to be dead not to be—that despite the ridiculous and surprising temptation you’re presenting me with, I don’t just—”

“Fling yourself with great abandon into a wildly satisfying sexual affair with a man who is finding himself completely smitten with you?”

Now she laughed. “Uh, well…yes. More or less.”

He sunk his hands under her hair and cupped the back of her head, tilting her mouth up to his once again, her gaze to his, as his body crowded into hers. “So, then, what foundation does this attraction need in order for it to move forward?”

“Your trust. Tell me why you’re really here. What are you looking for?”