Unsettled, she nevertheless pulled her hand from Declan’s when they got to the top of the stairs. With a meaningful nod, she indicated for him to go down one hall while she checked theother.
It was to his credit that he didn’t suggest they stick together. Apparently, the sight of her holding her cell phone firmly in her hand, its flashlight on but the device itself acting as a makeshift weapon, was enough to clue him in that she wasn’t a weak, cowering female. Even though her insides were churning and her knees were a littleunsteady.
If it had been the ghost…what did thatmean?
If it had been a real flesh and blood mortal…what didthatmean?
Leslie saw no sign of life as she poked quietly into each room, just as she’d done yesterday when she and Declan had searched for signs of the ghost being a humanprank.
“This is getting to be a habit,” she muttered when they met up on thebalcony.
His lips moved in a wry smile. “It’s sure as hell not a habit I’d like to continue. Although…” His eyes narrowed as they settled speculatively on her, and Leslie felt a sudden warm shiver at the expressiontherein.
She could almost imagine the rest of his unspoken sentence:Although I can think of another habit I’d like tocontinue.
Turning to go back down the stairs, she was both appreciative and a little put off that he hadn’t said what they were both thinking. It wasn’t the right time to be pursuing such a topic—after all, her house had just been broken into. But she wouldn’t have minded hearing it put into words from him, even at such an inappropriatetime.
Oh boy. Am I starting to fall for theguy?
“I’m going to check the speakeasy,” she announced briskly. “I doubt anyone’s stillhere.”
“I tend to agree, but be careful just in case.” He was right behind her—and that was where he stayed as she avoided the broken step, curved around at the bottom of the stairs, then ducked and maneuvered her way down the spiral into thespeakeasy.
It seemed much darker than before—maybe because it was night and there was little extra light to filter down from the opening above, as during the day. Regardless, Leslie’s little cell phone flashlight didn’t do a great job of illuminating every corner of the room, but once joined by his, their lights commingled readily and delved into most of the darkcorners.
“They—he or she or whoever—were down here,” Leslie said unnecessarily. For even though the room had previously showed signs of disarray, it was obvious things had been disturbed here. “The big painting is crooked—oh, and the other one isgone!”
Her voice cracked with shock and anger, but almost immediately eased. “Oh, it’s on the floor. They took itdown?”
“Looking for a hidden cache or a safe, I bet,” Declansaid.
“The jewels,” she said. “It has to be.” She looked at him, allowing the irritation and apprehension to show in her eyes. “That’s what comes from articles being splashed all over the paper, I guess. All the treasure hunters come out of the woodwork like—likespiders.”
Suddenly weary—for what did this mean going forward? more break-ins?—she climbed back up the spiral stairs. Was this only the beginning of treasure hunters? Would every bit of marketing or publicity she did for the bed and breakfast bring out more of the gemseekers?
“Leslie.” Declan took her arm as soon as he emerged from the hidden doorway. “You need to report this. And…I don’t know if you should stay here alonetonight.”
She forced a grin, suddenly fighting the desire to surge into his arms. She really could use a hug—and that was not a usual condition for Leslie Nakano, badass CEO. “Is that your idea of a good pickupline?”
His smile was a little tight, as if he too were just as worried. But he winked and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Even his touch sent a comforting shiver over her shoulders, and his finger strayed along the sensitive skin of her throat. “I wish. Don’t forget, I have an impressionable teenage girl at home. I have to set anexample.”
Leslie felt a tiny twinge of something. Not disappointment, but more like admiration for a man who was willing to put his daughter ahead of his own hormones. “Right. It might be a little hard to explain if you didn’t come home tonight. ‘Yes, Stephanie, I’m sleeping at your boss’s housetonight.’”
He smiled, but it was different this time. Warmer. “If I had it my way, it would be more like ‘I’m sleepingwithyour boss tonight,’” he said. He held her eyes with his, the black-flecked green of his irises bold and filled withtruth.
To her surprise, Leslie felt her cheeks heat and a flush rise over her chest. “Well, you certainly don’t beat around the bush, do you?” she murmured, then gave him a quick, saucy look before turningaway.
Reality. Back toreality.
“I’ll call the police,” she said, looking down at her phone. But before she dialed, she stopped, exhaled, and looked up athim.
He was watching her with a look that made the bottom of her belly drop down low and sharp and deliciously…then it was gone. But the heat still banked behind his eyes when he met hers oncemore.
“What is it?” he asked, the avid interest fading from hisexpression.
“You don’t think… Well, I suppose there’s a chance it was…” She glanced up the stairs as if to see some supernatural manifestation taking shape at the very thought ofit.
“Theghost?”
