His eyes glinted. “I never could resist a dare. You might consider watching what you wish for.”
They were barely moving; Emme realized their embrace could be called a “dance” only in the loosest of terms. He pulled her fractionally closer, and she choked back a horrified laugh, turning her face into his shoulder with a quiet squeal.
“Aha,” he said, and she heard the smile in his voice. “Finally.”
She looked up at him. “What does that mean—‘finally’?”
“It means you flinched first, and I have finally called your bluff. I have outshocked the unshockable Emmeline.”
“So you do not wish to kiss me,” she murmured.
“Oh, no, I most definitely do. I am not one for exhibition, however.”
She had a difficult time catching her breath, and it had nothing to do with an aching foot. Her feelings for him had always been extreme, and she remembered the conversation they’d had the night they’d spent under the tree. It should be little wonder that she would love him now so much it filled her entire heart, when before, her frustration with him had existed in equal measure.
He was reading her thoughts, he must be, because he said quietly, “You and I have some things to discuss.”
She swallowed. “Oh?”
He nodded.
“What sort of things?”
The music drew to a close, and the others clapped and chatted. Oliver still held her, and she had no desire to move away. Ever.
Eventually, he shifted, and she blinked. He helped her to a settee pushed against the wall, and she sank down, quietly releasing a slow breath. Hazel caught her eye from across the room and raised a single brow before curving her lips in a smile. Sam drew her attention, and she turned her gaze from Emme, who realized she wasn’t fooling anyone. They must all see that something was simmering between Emme and the detective, and she wasn’t certain what she would say if any of them asked.
Oliver sat with her while the others danced three more waltzes. Eventually coffee and cake were delivered, which Lucy had, of course, arranged, and while the group enjoyed the treats, they played several hands of cards. Emme was pleased to note that she and Oliver made quite a competitive team.
The friends traded stories and memories, and Emme was delighted to hear the gentlemen tease each other and share amusing anecdotes. Each man had his own talents and strengths, and they complemented one another well. Emme had never seen Oliver with them in prolonged, casual interaction, and she realized that, in some ways, he was still their captain. He was older than the rest by a handful of years, but aside from that, he carried an air of authority about him the other three respected.
As the hour grew late, the little party naturally disbanded. Emme thanked Lucy profusely and embraced them all. Each couple left and headed toward their own rooms, and Emme entered through Oliver’s door.
Oliver quietly closed the door and looked at her for a moment before removing his jacket and then his cuff links, setting them on the small writing table. He smiled. “A lovely evening.”
“Yes.” She was finally feeling the strain of having put weight on her foot most of the day, but she didn’t want to leave him just yet. She told herself she would wait for Gus’s return with whatever news he might have discovered and then turn in for the evening. She sank into a soft chair by the fireplace and sighed.
“I mentioned the need for a discussion, of sorts.”
She leaned back in the chair. “Yes, you did.”
“No time like the present.”
Emme’s heart stuttered. “Perhaps we ought not speak of anything theoretical until the Summit is finished. It is possible your intentions may change or diminish when there is no longer any danger to me.”
“Perhaps it is your intentions that may change or diminish?” He sat in a chair by her, leaning forward, closer to her, and bracing elbows on knees.
“I know my own feelings,” she whispered, “and they will not change.”
His lips curved in a smile. “I know my feelings as well. Nor will they change.”
She swallowed and looked away. “You might change your mind. One never knows which way the bonds of affection will turn.”
Her family circle had been small and secure until her mother had met Ronald O’Shea. Everything had changed, and if a mother’s love was not constant, what hope was there for anyone else?
“Emmeline.” He waited until she turned her gaze to him. “Do you remember our first true conversation in your library? What was my point of reasoning when we spoke that night?”
Her brow creased. “I confess, it is rather a blur. You said many things that night.”
“The most pivotal of which is that I am constant. I use all information at my disposal, but I also trust my instincts. Implicitly. In this, we are not so very different. Yours is a world of feelings, of emotions. And I also know mine.”
Her eyes burned with tears, and she drew in a shallow breath.
“Emme, you have been riddled with doubt about the Summit meetings and your abilities. I’ve seen it under the surface. Combine that with a spectacular dive from a commercial airship with its subsequent consequences, and I believe you are strung tighter than a bow, taut with uncertainty.”
She looked away, and he rubbed her knee. “I believe wholeheartedly in you, Emmeline O’Shea. I have seen you at your fiercest, and you are magnificent.”
She rolled her eyes. “To you, I am a menace.”
“To me, you are a force of nature. You are stunning and brilliant and possess a heart big enough to care for the entire world. I am not one to express my thoughts much, and in the last few days, I believe I’ve spoken to you more than I’ve done to all others in my life combined.”
She smiled and stretched her hand out. He took it and rested it on her knee.
“I love you, Emme.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“I apologize for burdening you
