Isla was silent until they exited the lift on the third floor and were out of earshot of the lift operator. When they were alone, she looked up and down the hallway and then stopped. “You own this?”
“Yes,” he admitted slowly. “You are angry.”
“I am not angry.” Her nostrils flared. “I am . . . irritated. You might have told me, rather than let me stew about whether the management would throw Monkey out into the street.”
He squinted, puzzled. “I thought I implied it wouldn’t be an issue.”
“Yes, because you own the place!” She threw her arms wide, which looked amusing because Monkey clung to her without support. “I do not . . .” She broke off again. “I do not like not knowing things. I do not expect to be privy to the details of your life, but we are friends, and this seems like something a friend might mention.”
He studied her and then motioned down the hall. “Allow me to show you to your suite, and we can talk. I wouldn’t have you think that I have been keeping anything from you intentionally.” It seemed an odd thing for her to be so irritated about, and he wondered if the stress of her upcoming task was finally affecting her.
He unlocked the door to her suite and opened it wide. She stepped forward and looked around silently. The interior was bright, with whitewashed walls, lush area carpeting over stunning dark hardwood, and handcrafted dark-wood furniture adorned by bright cushions, seats, and pillows. The adjoining door to the bedroom was open, and she slowly wandered to it to peer inside. He knew it was decorated in similar fashion to the sitting room, with a large bed, sumptuous bedding, and a diaphanous white canopy that doubled as mosquito netting draped over it. There was an adjoining washroom with hot running water for the bath and a personal toilet.
He had built the inn from the ground up, and it was somehow important that she approve. He waited in silence until she had walked around, looking out windows and running a hand along the smooth finish of a finely-made end table. He could stand it no longer, and said, “Well?”
“This is beautiful. Stunning. Absolutely incredible, and I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you had real estate here, that you had a connection other than the fact that your fleet provides England’s only air transportation here.”
He scratched his ear and motioned to the seating area. “Please?”
She acquiesced, and surprisingly, Monkey released his hold on her and hopped down to explore on his own.
Daniel removed his jacket and laid it over the back of a chair. “May I take your hat?” he inquired solicitously. He set it atop his jacket and watched in envy as she ran her hands along her hair, tousling and smoothing and performing a task he would very much have liked to perform for her.
He sat next to her on the sofa, unsure of the cause of her mood, for the first time since meeting her. She was a straightforward woman, not usually prone to veiled conversation or hidden meanings. She’d blackmailed him for a flight out of the country, for heaven’s sake, and admitted to him soon thereafter the reason for it. She had never prevaricated in communicating with him from the moment they’d first met. Why was she so upset with him now?
“I don’t suppose it occurred to me you might be interested in knowing I owned this inn,” he said and faced her sideways, his arm along the back of the couch.
“Why would I not?” She looked at him as though he were mad. “When did this happen? How long have you had influence in Port Lucy? I mean, it makes sense now that you would have so many good contacts for those you smuggle from England—you own the grandest hotel this side of Cairo, apparently.” She frowned. “There’s another one keeping secrets.”
“Isla, I am not keeping secrets. I don’t know how it would have come up in conversation. ‘Are you aware I own Port Lucy’s largest hotel?’ You can see how that might sound awkward, at best.”
“You could have mentioned it on the way over when I was worried about Monkey. Instead you were cryptic. ‘Don’t worry about it,’” she mimicked in a low tone that sounded nothing like his voice.
“Nobody knew, and I didn’t want to explain it to everyone in the carriage.” He spread his hands wide. “I do not see the issue.”
“Friends tell each other things. What else do you own here?”
“In the hotel?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Do not be obtuse. In Port Lucy.”
He sighed. “Ten years ago, this place was little more than a swamp. I had just begun the airship venture and was touring to gain an understanding of the routes between countries and over oceans. I realized the potential of this locale and purchased large pieces of land for a steal. I continued to grow the air fleet and, over time, began building here. The municipality was organized at the time only in the loosest sense of the word, so I researched notable talent here and in neighboring islands and worked with a few key individuals to establish a stable port, one that could grow and thrive. The Crown was supportive once they realized my intentions and made available moneys, resources. The beauty of it was it’s far enough away that I could establish the vision I’d created with my partners here without much interference from the government.” He smiled. “I named the port city for my sister, Lucy.
“I served my military time in India, and kept in contact with my partners as best as I could. When I finished there, I was thrilled to see the progress they’d made, and it’s only improved since then. Some of the capital I saw from my investments here went into the air fleet and allowed me to branch into more advanced technology and provide finer craftsmanship, so Pickett Airships flourished as well.”
He rubbed the side of his nose, not certain why her opinion mattered so much to him. “My father died when I was young, but left us with a fair amount of capital from his own investments in the early days of the railroad. I used much of my inheritance on the land here and in my first few airships. My success here has everything to do with timing and finding the right people.”
She shook her head, her expression softening. “You minimize what was exceptional business acumen at a young age. You were twenty-four, twenty-five? And you recognized the value of this place. You infused it with cash, utilized the knowledge of people who lived here, and benefitted not only yourself but many hundreds, maybe thousands, of others.”
Daniel didn’t think he had anything left of himself that would feel self-conscious or bashful, yet he felt a blush heat his cheeks at her praise. “I don’t say anything in casual conversation or in front of passengers about any of this because it presents itself as boastful. I also have learned to be cautious. The world is full of unscrupulous people who suddenly come out of the woodwork to claim a relationship.”
She nodded and looked pensively at Monkey, who continued to examine every inch of the room. There was something about her disquiet that seemed elusive. “Is there something else on your mind? You’re irritated, and I have yet to reason it out.”
She shrugged and straightened. “I am not irritated anymore. Overwhelmed, perhaps. You’ve built an empire. It’s wonderful, truly. And apparently, you climbed Mount Olympus and found the perfect goddess to manage the hotel for you. It’s all amazing, and . . . wonderful. I’ve had your exclusive attention to myself for nearly a month, and I suppose I was feeling proprietary.” She flashed a glance in his direction. “My mistake, not yours.”
He stared at her, mouth slack. Ah. So that was it. He slowly started to laugh. She whipped her gaze back to him with a frown, and he didn’t imagine he’d ever seen anything more wonderful. Still laughing, he reached for her hand and yanked her toward him, catching her up close, her legs sprawled atop his. She was clearly still out of sorts, and he made an effort to rein in his humor. His smile lingered, and he rubbed his nose against hers.
“A goddess from Mount Olympus,” he mused. “Why did I not see it?”
“I find it hard to believe you didn’t realize you’d employed a goddess from Mount Olympus.”
“No, I didn’t realize you were experiencing the same infuriating emotion I’ve battled for the last month.”
Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Mmm-hmm. Let us reflect on our voyage wherein I had to watch you become acquainted with other handsome gentlemen, watch you charm other handsome gentlemen, watch other gentlemen fall all over themselves to gain your attention and approval, fight back the urge to become violent with certain other gentlemen whom even Samson identified as potential rivals for my affection . . . shall I continue?”
“What on earth?”
“Why do you think I insisted we say grace that one night? Because Lewis had you eating from the palm of his hand and I wanted to throw him overboard. I wanted to shut him up, and it was the only thing I could think of. And then before I knew it, you had turned Crowe around—although that was to the benefit of everyone, so I cannot complain too much about it.”
A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “You said grace . . .”
“Yes!” He was disgruntled at the memory. “And that was after knowing you for a day! Can you imagine what the rest has been like for me?”
She laughed softly and touched her forehead to his. “I am so sorry for being petty. This place—it is incredible.”
“I find myself craving your approval.”
“I feel anxious taking the time to enjoy it. I ought to be out gathering information on Malette.”
“I can help with that. I’ll ask some contacts, see what we can overturn.”
She met his eyes. This close, he could see the flecks of yellow and blue in the green of hers. Her gaze flicked to his lips, and it was the signal he’d been waiting for. He ran his hand along the nape of her neck and pulled her to him, meeting her lips with his and reveling in her sigh of contentment. He kissed her with every pent-up emotion that had consumed him from the moment he’d demanded her ray gun and she’d refused to relinquish it. All the attraction, frustration, jealousy, fear, and longing of the past weeks poured from him, and he never wanted to come up for air. If he kissed her for an eternity it wouldn’t be long enough.
She wound her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his hair. He crushed her to him, unable to get close enough. He trailed his lips along the line of her jaw to the softness of her neck, to the sensitive spot behind her ear.
I love you, he thought. I love you and want to be by your side every day for the rest of my life. I want to grow old with you. I want to see you carrying a child and feel the satisfaction of knowing it’s mine. I want to love you with everything I am until the end of time . . .
If he didn’t tell her soon, he would explode. He needed to say the words, needed for her to know.
“Isla . . .”
She sighed, and it was nearly his undoing.
“I . . .”
A knock sounded at the door, and he froze. She breathed as though winded, her hands tangled in his hair as his face rested against her neck.
The knock repeated, and he bit back a curse.
“I’ll get it,” she whispered.
“I’m going to kill someone,” he muttered.
She pulled back, then looked at him, her smile wicked. “One more.”
He nearly groaned. “One more.” He kissed her again and held her tight when she moved to stand. He let her wrestle free, and she stood with a breathless laugh and straightened her clothing. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her down again, planting a quick kiss on her before she squirmed away.
Her cheeks were flushed beyond her sunburn, and she threw him a recriminating look with widening eyes as she made her way to the door. She paused, tucking strands of hair behind her ears and smoothing her braid, and then opened the door.
“A treat for Monkey, compliments of the Port Lucy Inn.” The steward’s voice sounded in the hallway, and Daniel couldn’t decide whether to throttle Lia or thank her. The timing was a combination of rotten and fortunate. There was much at stake, and as Daniel had told himself numerous times over the past several days, Isla needed to find the cure, and quickly.
Isla accepted the tray from the steward with a smile, and his stomach clenched. He had no business tying her to someone who flinched at the sound of firecrackers and still had nightmares like a child, but he couldn’t let her go.
“Monkey, look!” She held the tray down as Monkey raced to her side from the bedroom. Daniel feared he’d find the mosquito netting in shreds or the tissue paper in the bathroom strung from the chandeliers.
“Dr. Cooper!” Quince’s voice sounded in the hallway and Daniel shook his head, rueful. He clearly wasn’t about to get Isla back on the couch anytime soon. Between the plantain-snarfing primate and Isla’s entourage of shape-shifting fans, the moment had passed. He would express his feelings to her later, perhaps after they’d located Malette. She needed to remain focused; they both did.
There was a bright spot in the day, if nothing else. The mighty, accomplished, brilliant Dr. Isla Cooper had been jealous of Lia. A smug, satisfied smile crossed his face, and he didn’t bother to hide it. Isla hadn’t said she loved him, but for now, it was enough. Until she was out of the proverbial woods, he’d take whatever he could get.