Emmy frowned in the darkness. Shakespeare? She vaguely recalled the scene. It was fromA Midsummer Night’s Dream: Oberon and Titania, the feuding married couple of the underworld. Very apt. Except, of course, she was nowhere near married to Harland, thank the lord.
She pressed her gloved hand to her throat, not having to feign her jittery shock. “Lord Melton. You startled me. I was just getting a little air. I was about to leave.”
He tilted his head. “Whereas I have just arrived. It seems we’re destined to be forever at odds, Miss Danvers. Adversaries, if you will.”
She managed a nervous laugh. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, my lord.”
“Would you not?” He paused a moment, as if considering. “Whatwouldyou say we are, then? I don’t think we can really class ourselves as friends.”
Emmy ignored the twinge of hurt at his easy dismissal of friendship and managed a careless shrug. “I’m sure Idon’t know. I’d have thought you have more than enough adversaries from your work for Bow Street, however.”
He took another step closer. She tried to retreat, but the low brick wall behind her prevented her escape.
“That’s true.” He sounded relaxed, gently amused. “But there’s definitely something to be said for a good adversary. There’s something…invigoratingabout it, don’t you think?”
“I’ve never thought about it,” Emmy lied.
“I have. An enemy keeps you on your toes, brings out your full potential. I’d never have honed my sharpshooting skills, for example, if I hadn’t been forced to fight Napoleon’s troops for so long. I’d never have learned how to chase down criminals if I didn’t work for Bow Street.”
A diamond is only produced under great pressure.He and Camille were of the same mind.
“You sound as if you enjoy the chase,” she said, and hated the way her voice quavered. She needed to be bold and flirtatious, not reeking of guilt and nerves.
His smile flashed in the darkness as he took another step closer. A shaft of moonlight illuminated one half of his face, caressing his cheekbones, the straight line of his nose, the wicked curl of his lips.
“Oh, I do. Catching a criminal elicits a wonderful sense of triumph—all the better if I’ve been led a merry chase.” His low murmur, almost a purr, sent a shiver through her. “Things are always so much more satisfying if you’ve had to wait for them, don’t you think?”
His gaze dropped to her lips and without thinking, Emmy pulled in her lower lip, biting it with her top teeth. His expression became almost pained. He glanced back up and slanted her a look from beneath his lashes that made her insides liquefy.
“Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of having the Nightjar at my mercy, for example?”
Her heart began to pound.He knew.
No!He didn’t know for sure. He was just trying to goad her into saying something incriminating. She pressed her lips together to stop words spilling out.
He answered for her. “Alongtime. And I know exactly what I’m going to do when I catch him.”
Emmy let out a silent sigh.Him.He’d saidhim. She was only imagining the double meanings to his words. She was still safe. For now. “What will you do?”
“Exact retribution,” he sighed dreamily. “I’ve fantasized of the moment over and over again. I cannot wait to have him in my power.”
Oh, God.The heat of him was mere inches away. Emmy inhaled his scent and entertained a brief, startling fantasy of stepping forward and letting her body soften and curve into his, of resting her head against all that masculine warmth and strength. She sidestepped instead. “I really must be getting back to the ballroom.”
He moved to the side to block her and her heart gave a panicky squeeze in her chest. The rich scent of earth and hothouse flowers made her head reel.
He leaned forward conspiratorially, as if the darkness engendered confidences. “So, what are you doing out here in the dark? Here to meet a lover?”
Emmy gasped. “No! I’m not meeting anybody! I just needed to catch my breath. It’s so crowded in there.”
Flustered, she turned and sniffed at the nearest flower, a peony in full bloom. Peonies were her absolute favorite, with their extravagant abundance of petals and gorgeous sweet scent. She closed her eyes. How on earth was she going leave, with him blocking the path?
Alex frowned at her tempting profile. The woman was utterly infuriating. Why couldn’t she be like all the other vapid,innocentwomen out there in the ballroom?He bit back a growl and studied the charming tilt of her nose, the satin softness of her sweetly lying lips. Why the hell couldn’t he be attracted to any of those other women?
Her presence out here had nothing to do with meeting a paramour. The only illicit assignation she’d arranged tonight was with Lady Carrington’s jewelry case.
Oddly, the thought of her meeting another man annoyed him just as much as the fact that she was a thief, but he didn’t want to examine that contradiction too closely. He didn’t care how many men she kissed in dark corners. Really.
He narrowed his eyes. Wearing those feathers in her hair was practically flaunting the fact that she was the Nightjar. She must think him as dense as the rock she’d labelled at the museum. She’d only been out of his sight for a few minutes, but he’d bet his life that if he ventured next door, he’d find one of those feathers in Lady Carrington’s jewelry box.
