Page 54 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

Relief and surprise flooded through him at the declaration. Suddenly, the air in the house seemed a little fresher and the sun a little brighter. Hell, he’d be happy betting that the climbing roses that covered the brick facade of the house had spontaneously bloomed at the news.

“Thank you, Hughes,” he said, feeling very much like his old self. He nodded at Kalila. “Shall we?”

They went upstairs and, once again, Oliver thought about the possibility of her here all the time. He couldn’t help it—even something as simple as going up the stairs together held the promise of romance at present.

He didn’t need any more proof as to how much danger he was in.

In the lab, Kalila marched up to his bookshelf and began to examine the spines. “I should like to present a unique specimen to Comerford.”

Oliver perched himself at the bench and watched her, wishing they could drop the subject of science altogether. They had days to get around to it. With her intelligence and his resources, there was very little that stood in their way.

“Rafiq,” he said. She kept her back to him as she pulled a book off the shelf. “I’ve been meaning to ask after your cousin.”

She whirled around, book pressed to her chest. “My cousin?”

“Yes.” He gave her a serene smile. “Miss Darwish. Is she in good health?”

“She is,” Kalila responded, tone guarded.

“She’s a curious thing,” he said. “Very defensive about your work.”

Kalila’s posture relaxed. “She simply has an eye for good science.”

“A family trait?” Oliver teased.

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “You sound jealous.”

“Has she mentioned me at all?”

Kalila frowned at this and began to push the book slowly back onto the shelf. It took her a moment to respond, and he knew it was because she was running through the myriad of ways she could do so. Finally, she gave a simple, “Yes.”

“And?” he pressed.

She joined him at the bench, folding her arms against her chest. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does,” he said cheekily. “The least you could do is let me know if I’ve lost my touch.”

“What would you like to hear? That she’s taken to her bed, lovesick with the thought of you?”

If only.

He tried and failed to suppress a grin. “Has she?”

“No.”

“Unfathomable,” he murmured. “Is she engaged?”

“Are those her only options? Enamored with you or attached to another?”

“Ooh, maybe she’s in love with someone else entirely,” he said, keeping an eye on her reaction. To her credit, she managed to maintain some level of neutrality.

“Not anymore,” she responded, tone tinged with acid.

*

Drat. Drat, drat, drat.

Kalila pulled a box of slides toward her. She opened it, and—