‘Huh?’
‘Nothing, forget it.’ Annie moved to stand up.
‘No wait, what are you saying?’
‘I…’ She looked desperate, like a trapped animal. ‘I…’ Her whisky-coloured eyes turned dark as her gaze flicked to his mouth. It took a fraction of a second to register the change but it was enough to set off a hard primal fire in Harri’s gut. He was already lifted onto his knees and drawing Annie to him with his hands spreading over the small of her back.
She breathed hard, inches from his face, both frozen, all thoughts suspended, only their nerves and instincts speaking. Her eyes lifted from his lips, which had fallen open with the force of his breath.
He was waiting for any signal from her when two came at once. Her pupils shrank to a pin sharp intensity that shot straight down his spinal column landing heavy and low where he hardened, and she gave the clearest nod of permission before their lips met in a sudden crash with the force of a decade’s waiting behind them. He couldn’t help the moan that came from deep within him as they kissed and Annie answered it with her own.
No words, no thoughts, nothing held them back as they kissed harder, and their hands roved. He pulled her against where he was aching for her and the burst of heat coming off her filled him even fuller with wanting. She rocked her head back when he put his mouth to her throat. He was reading her, responding to what she needed.
How they were lying down, he didn’t know, but he was on top of her. She tugged his shirt loose and yanked at his belt, stopping only to run her hands over him, driving him close to blacking out. He’d pulled up her skirts with her nodding the whole time, kissing him between her gasped, ‘yes,’ and suddenly there was nothing between them at all. She was reaching for her bag, rummaging inside, all sorts of crap spilling out of it.
‘Dang it, where are they?’ she said, laughing, but Harri wanted her to feel how much he wanted her, so instead of helping, he took her arms in his hands, feeling his way to her wrists, bringing them over his head, pressing her fingers to the nape of his neck until she understood and held him there. He kissed his way right down her body from her neck to her navel, through her clothes and over her bunched skirts until his mouth was exactly where he wanted to be and he ran his tongue in relentless sweeps letting her, his Annwyl, know how much he’d wanted her all this time, making her trust his touch, making her gasp for it, promising her he could do this to her whenever she wanted.
Just as she was drawing her thighs closer, almost losing it completely, there came the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the library door, and the echo of the mechanism unlocking, reverberating through the library.
The pair jumped apart.
‘Oh my god! Someone’s coming in,’ cried Annie, hauling herself back into the shadows to fix her clothes.
‘Shit! Shit! shit!’ hissed Harri, scrabbling to button and zip himself back together, straightening his glasses, wiping at his face. It had to be Katie doing a last check. The auction must be long since over.
The door was creaking open, the glow of a torch lifting the gloom. If he wasn’t so alarmed Harri would have laughed at the sight of Annie emerging from the shadows, a picture of hastily poised serenity, pretending to inspect the big globe in the middle of the room.
‘Who’s there?’ came a crotchety voice. Definitely not Katie.
A figure presented itself now; hunched, shambling, all in black.
‘Mr Sabine?’ cried Harri and Annie at once.
Chapter Seventeen
A Library Sleepover
William Sabine set down his torch and moved slowly around the room, lighting the candles from a pocket matchbox.
‘What are you doing here? I thought you were in hospital?’ said Annie, following him.
‘What areyoudoing here, Annwyl,hmm? In my library?’
‘Your library?’ repeated Harri, trying hard to recover his composure. He could still hear his own pulse hammering in his ears.
Mr Sabine shuffled towards the desk. A stricken expression passing over his face as he surveyed the open book and the spectacles arranged on the display cushion. He closedThe Picture of Dorian Grayand held it in his hands, his eyes settling on the spectacles.
‘Nicholas’s library,’ he said, sadly.
Harri flicked his eyes to Annie. Her cheeks were flushed pink but there were no other outward signs of what they’d just been doing. A shudder of wanting shocked down his spine. He tried to hide it.
‘Sir Nicholas Courtenay? You knew him?’ Annie’s brain was evidently working far better than Harri’s; amazing considering how close she’d just been to coming apart completely against his lips.
Harri tried to concentrate. ‘How did you get here, Mr Sabine?’
‘I walked, mostly,’ he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
‘But that must have taken all day!’ Harri was already reaching for his phone. ‘Mr Sabine… do you livehere?’
