For a moment, Finley thought this little revelation of suspicion—toward both her and Sam—might be the last straw, but the large fellow simply drained his glass and set it down on the coffee table. “Thank you,” he said. Then he turned his head to look at Finley who sat next to him on the sofa. “And thank
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Griffin topped up Sam’s glass from the whiskey bottle before raising his own. “A toast. To Finley, who officially became one of us tonight, whether she likes it or not.”
The other boys raised their glasses, as well. “To Finley,” they echoed.
Blushing, Finley smiled and raised her own glass.
“I don’t know about you lads, but I like having a strong woman around,” Griffin said with surprising good humor considering the man who had killed his parents still eluded them. “You don’t have to worry about carrying everything for her, or her delicate constitution.”
Finley frowned slightly. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
Griffin smiled. “It is.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and just when Finley felt her cheeks begin to warm under his appreciative gaze, Jasper slapped his hands on his thighs and rose to his feet. “Time for me to head out. Thank y’all for this evening’s entertainment.”
As the American got up to leave, Sam turned to Griffin. “What about the metal man? Shouldn’t we go collect it for Em to examine?”
“No,” Griffin replied, polishing off his drink. “We’re going to let The Machinist collect it and take it with him.”
Sam frowned. “And why in the name of Wellington are we going to do that?”
Finley inched forward on the sofa, eager to hear what Griffin had to say in reply.
He grinned, despite his bruised face. “Because when that thing picked me up tonight, I noticed what appeared to be a homing beacon on the underside of its head. Eventually it will power up again, and when it does, I think Garibaldi will send a signal to it to come home.”
“How will we know that it’s powered up?” Finley asked.
“Because while it had me, I managed to slip one of Emily’s tracking devices into its arm—the one Sam didn’t wreck. Hopefully it will lead us to The Machinist’s location.”
There was a chance it wouldn’t work, of course. Garibaldi was highly intelligent and crafty, but right now Finley looked at Griffin with newfound respect. No wonder he wasn’t put out that Garibaldi had escaped them. “Very smart,” she praised.
Still smiling, Griffin shrugged. “It’s part of my charm.”
Chapter 20
When Emily opened her eyes the next morning, Sam was there. Waiting. He’d been waiting for hours.
“Sam?” She blinked the sleep from her bright eyes. “What are you doing here?” She cast a glance at the bedroom door, which he had left open, as was proper.
“I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” he replied. “Are you?” He was anxious for her answer. There was an ugly abrasion high on her cheek and he could see awful bruising peeking out from the neckline of her nightgown.
“I’m a bit sore,” she replied, wincing as she struggled to push herself up higher on the pillows with her one good arm. “Perhaps more than a bit.”
Sam jumped up from the chair and carefully slid one arm behind her neck and the other beneath her legs under the blankets. Gingerly, as though she were made of glass, he lifted her so that she could sit up. Then he sat back down.
“I brought your cat up,” he said, not quite meeting her gaze, gesturing to the big mechanical animal. “I thought you might want it—in case you needed something.”
Her cheeks blazed with color. “Thank you.”
He glanced down at his hands. They were big, so much bigger than hers. “I want to apologize, Em. I’ve been a proper wanker toward you lately.”
When he looked up, she was watching him, no expression on her pale face. “You were angry. I understand that, lad.”
“That doesn’t excuse it. I…I didn’t understand why you did it, but I do now.”
“You do?” She seemed slightly baffled by that.
He nodded. “Last night I realized that I would do anything to save your life, too, even let that metal man crush me.”
“Don’t ever trade your life for mine, Sam. I couldn’t forgive you for it.”
“I’d risk that.” He swallowed, his throat dry. “I was stupid, Em. I let The Machinist fool me. I played right into his game.”
“That’s my fault,” she insisted. “If I had told you everything after the surgery, you wouldn’t have felt so betrayed. He wouldn’t have lured you in.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Then it’s not yours, either.” Her chin was set at a defiant angle—one he’d seen too often to argue with her.
Sam smiled hesitantly, rubbing his palms against the top of his thighs. He’d wear a hole through his trousers at this rate. “Forgive me?”
“Only if you’ll forgive me.”
“I already have.”
Her fingers closed over his, forcing them to go still. “You saved my life last night,” he murmured hoarsely. “Again.”
“From what I hear, you saved me and Griff, as well. Finley said the automaton could have crushed us both but you lifted it off us, risking your own safety.”
“When did you speak to Finley?” he demanded with a scowl.
“I woke up at four. She heard me and came in to help me.” She blushed slightly and Sam felt his own cheeks heat. He could guess what she needed help doing and was glad Finley was there for her. God knew neither he, Jasper or Griff could have. If that barmy cowboy had come to help her, Sam would rip his arms off.
“That was good of her.”
Emily arched a brow. “Does that mean you’ve accepted her?”
“I suppose it does. She’s saved my arse a couple of times now. Let Garibaldi get away, but I can’t say I’m sore about it.”
She smiled at him, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles in a way that made his mouth even drier. “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind about her. I like Finley.”
“So does Griff.”
“Oh, aye. That’s obvious, isn’t it?” She laughed then, but stopped abruptly, grimacing.
“Do you need anything?” he asked, panicked. “Something for the pain?”
Leaning back against the pillows, she fixed him with an earnest gaze that made his heart pound and reduced the entire world to just the two of them. Her eyes said everything he needed to hear.
Sitting on the edge of the chair, his knees pressed hard against the side of her bed, he leaned closer, her hand still caught in his. When her eyelashes fluttered, his heart gave a queer little thump in his chest. Sam smiled. His heart didn’t need to be real flesh and muscle to feel.
And when his lips touched Emily’s, he felt so much. His heart danced in joy. His free hand came up and cupped her cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. How many times had he dreamed of doing this? It was even better than he thought it would be.
He smiled against her lips. She smiled against his, but they kept kissing. And for the first time in a long time, Sam knew true happiness.
