Of course, she was now playing bodyguard inside a stranger’s home, where the building itself was out to get her. As if that was not enough, the handsome inventor she was protecting was armed with delectable muscles and a roguish smile, proving him dangerous even without his machines.
Mr. Lenox smoothed the wrinkles from his fully buttoned waistcoat. “I must warn you that I don’t believe there is any treasure hunt to follow. In order to put Densmore’s affairs in order, I walked through every room in this castle. Nothing was out of place until I made it that way.”
“But you weren’t looking for a missing will.”
“True. I was looking for a clue to finding my cousin.” He held Elizabeth’s gaze. “My attention is on you now.”
Her cheeks heated.
Mr. Lenox was staring at her with enough heat in his eyes to warm this entire drafty castle. His pupils had dilated, his lips parted, his torso tilted forward ever so slightly… It didn’t take a mathematician to read these signs. He wanted to kiss her.
And she was absolutely going to let him. Particularly if his kisses came with unfettered access to those phenomenal abdominal muscles. Elizabeth hadn’tplannedon a torrid temporary affaire—but she wasn’t foolish enough to turn down the opportunity.
She fluttered her lashes and gave her best non-cobra, come-hither smile.
Mr. Lenox blinked and took a step backward. All hint of his previous attraction vanished.
“Well, I’m sure you’re in a hurry to be done with this task,” he said briskly. “It’ll go faster, now that both of us are searching. Where shall we start?”
Elizabeth didn’t bother to hide her disappointment, but she made no further attempt at flirtation… at least for the moment. He was, after all, correct. She was here for her client, not for kisses. Keeping their interactions professional was the most efficient choice.
If a boring one.
“Well, the countess created the clues and the testament. Why don’t we try her rooms?” she suggested.
“They’ve been cleared of personal effects.”
“No one would toss out a will.”
“Not knowingly,” he agreed. “But if it were stuffed inside some other item that got disposed of… Besides, we’re looking for a clue to a puzzle, and we haven’t a clue what the clue looks like. If such a thing was ever here, it’s almost certainly been discarded by now.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Are you always this full of sunshine and light?”
“This is my standard base level, yes. Pessimism is a critical component of my work. If I assume that everything that could go wrong, will do so, then I can prepare for those eventualities before they occur.”
“I’m the same way,” said Elizabeth. “I assume everything will go wrong… and that my swords can put it right.”
“Like the castle door?” he said wryly. “How long would it have taken you to chip through ten inches of wood?”
“That wasn’t my aim,” she reminded him. “I wanted inside, which I achieved, thanks to my blades. See how that works?”
He shook his head. “That’s not ‘working.’ That’s luck. You couldn’t know that would happen. The smartest path is to wait until you have calculated every variable from every angle and determined the surest course with the least variance of probability.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “That’s not a ‘path.’ Your way sounds like standing still. Swords are faster. Making things happen is better than just ruminating about them ad infinitum.”
He stepped closer. “Recklessness leads to mistakes.”
She leaned in. “I like mistakes.”
His nose was an inch from hers. “You’re looking for four-leaf clovers by stampeding over them astride an elephant.”
“And carrying a sword,” she snapped. “A big one.”
He snorted. “What did you say we had in common again?”
“Congenital grumpiness,” she retorted.
And perhaps a fondness for pistachios. Though Elizabeth was not ready to suggest she might enjoy such an outing with Mr. Lenox.
