She lifted her chin. “Given all this new information about Erasmus’s first…love? Should we call that a first love if it comes from a loveless, feckless man? The label makes it easier, doesn’t it?”
“Celeste,” Phillipa said softly, and took her hand the same way Owen wished he could.
Celeste bent her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Do you continue to consider Abigail your strongest suspect in Erasmus’s murder?”
Before Owen could respond, Gilmore stepped away from the fire and crossed half the distance toward them in two long steps. “What?”
Owen ignored the interjection. “Celeste…”
She shrugged. “I saw your notes. The ones on your bedside table.”
Phillipa blushed red as a tomato and hustled away again. But not far enough. Owen glared at the intruders to this conversation as he caught Celeste’s elbow and dragged her away a little farther. He bent his head close to hers, close enough to kiss, even though he had to wonder if those days were over.
“You are angry,” he said. “And I understand where that anger comes from, even if I do not agree that I have betrayed you to the level that you seem to accuse. But Celeste, you cannot come here and…and…blow up my case just because you are upset.”
She lifted her gaze to his, and for a moment the anger fell, the pain remained, but he saw all her feelings toward him too. All the desire they had shared, all the tenderness. She swiftly blinked it all away.
“Why not?” she asked, but he noted she kept her voice lower, too. “Truth is better, I think. I’ve lived so many lies.”
He tugged her a little closer, no longer caring what Phillipa or Gilmore thought of it. The proverbial cat was out of the bag anyway thanks to Celeste’s declaration of where she had found his list of suspects.
“You have not lived a lie with me,” he said, and caught her chin. He tilted it up gently and tried with all his might to show his honor to her. To make her see that he still possessed it. And that he felt so much more for her. But letting her feel it wasn’t enough. “Celeste…I…”
Her eyes went wide, as if she knew where he was steering this ship. “Please don’t,” she said as she stepped away from him. “Not in this moment of all moments. Not when it feels like a way to make me go along.”
She turned and walked away, leaving him staring after her. She knew he was going to say he loved her. And she was right, it hadn’t been the correct moment to do so. Still, it had been there, poised on his tongue to say. That she walked away felt like someone had driven a fist into his chest and come out with his still-beating heart like it was a prize to be won.
She glanced back at him, and for a moment their eyes met. Despite walking away, her expression was not quite so hard now. The hurt he felt at her denial shifted. Hope bloomed. Right now she was angry and betrayed, right now she was focused on the case before them and saving the life of her friend.
But they would circle back to this. He knew it. And the next time he wanted to tell her he loved her, she would hear it. Only then would he know what she felt in return. And that gave him hope despite the rejection. Hope he would cling to until the time was right.
Chapter 20
Celeste fought to rein in some control over her emotions, but her hands were shaking so hard that there was no way the entire room didn’t notice it. Her heart throbbed too, blood rushing loud in her ears.
Owen was about to say he loved her. She knew it the same way she knew she would draw her next breath.
She wanted to feel joy. She had finally admitted, if only to herself, that she felt the same for him. That hadn’t changed, even if his keeping the fact of this other woman secret hurt her.
Only it wasn’t just joy that flooded her. Owen had wanted to say those beautiful words to soothe her. To placate her. As a trick, as a trap. Something to bring her under control, just as her parents had done before. Just as Erasmus had done. Owen did it so she didn’t harm the case he cared so much about.
And because of that, she wasn’t certain that those unspoken words could be true. Love had