“Progress,” she returned, nearly laughing. It had been an age since she’d bantered with someone worth challenging. Even if he was daft when it came to safety.
“I’ll address the locks in the morning,” he conceded. “But I refuse to live in fear.”
“It’s not fear. It’s caution.”
He regarded her silently, his blue eyes seeming to see through her. It was unnerving. And it made her feel like tapping her foot or smoothing her skirt or some other sort of fidgety nonsense.
“Call it what you wish, but it’s still fear.”
“I’ll see you in the morning. Be ready by eight. We have work to do.” And before he could make her feel any other odd sensations, she left the room and disappeared into the night.
It wasn’t fear.
It was caution.
But deep inside… she wondered.
Chapter Four
It wasn’t until seven thirty in the morning that Emerson realized that in her haste to depart, Jaxsen hadn’t mentioned exactly where she’d see him at eight. He gave a slight sigh into his teacup. He deduced that if he didn’t show up magically by reading her mind regarding the elusive location, she’d simply find him. Good Lord, he’d never expected anyone to break into his home and not steal the silver. Honestly, he wouldn’t be concerned if they did take it. It wasn’t as if he’d ever used it, and it was awfully gaudy. However, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. He was a quick learner, and next time — because he was absolutely certain there would be a next time — he would be waiting for her.
And, as much as it went against the grain, she had made a solid point last night. His gate wasn’t exactly secure, and he hadn’t ever locked the servants’ entrance. If he was about to embark on this journey to be a spy for the War Office, then he needed to take other precautions.
But that didn’t translate to living in fear.
He wouldn’t ever do that again.
He’d lived through gunfire grazing the air a breath’s distance above his head. The war had often had him shaking hands with death and destiny, deciding who lived or died, and sometimes stealing the choice from him unwillingly. He knew the fear that lived in a man’s breast that came from knowing his time could be cut short, and there was much left to do, to experience.
So, when he’d come back home, he’d lived.
He’d gone sailing in the Mediterranean, diving into the warm water with nothing but what God had given him to swim in the feverish sun.
The mountains called next, and he had traveled to Switzerland and climbed the Matterhorn and tasted the thin air in his lungs and the bite of the cold on his face and body.
He had planned to travel to Egypt next, but his former officer had contacted him, inviting him to interview with the War Office, and the rest had become history. From one type of adventure to another, he had thrown himself into the middle, enjoying the challenge and, when given the opportunity to train under the great Jaxsen… well, that was potentially the greatest adventure yet.
If he didn’t shoot her first — purely by accident.
Mostly.
A grin tipped his lips as he set the tepid tea back in the saucer, the silence more telling than any noise.
He sighed again.
“You’re early. Tea?” He spoke into the empty silence. There was a breath of silence before a decidedly feminine voice answered. “I hate tea.”
“And puppies and small children? Are you sure you’re English?” Emerson asked, simply to be contrary.
Jaxsen walked into the breakfast room with the posture of a lady and the perception of a jaguar. “I never said I didn’t like puppies or small children.” She hitched a shoulder. “Tell me you have coffee, and I might like you better.”
“I have coffee.” He grinned and motioned to a seat.
Her shoulders stilled, and then a wide smile broke across her face. His own smile froze, his heart stuttering in his chest. Good Lord, it was like looking at the sun. Too beautiful to behold for too long, and even after one glanced away, it haunted still with its beauty, blocking out everything else with its brilliance. He stared down to his teacup and took a deep breath. He’d seen her as a comrade, as an instructor or superior officer — but he hadn’t really thought of her as a woman.
That had changed in the span of a moment.
And he had a feeling it would change more than just the way he looked at her.
