She was glad she was nearly alone in the library. There would be fewer people to see her lose her tenuous hold on her self-control.
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The scent of books and dust was nothing like the stink of death and decay. It did not stop the erratic pounding of her heart, but pressing her hands to her forehead helped the world from spinning quite so fast.
But the longer she sat there, the faster the images of the dead man flashed in her mind. The more detailed they became, from the yellowed whites of his eyes to the blackened flesh peeling away from his wound.
Saliva pooled in her mouth, the sure warning of impending vomit. She swallowed convulsively, her eyes flying open in panic. She couldn’t vomit in the library.
A man stood over her.
She let out a shriek, shoving her chair back with a matching screech. She didn’t realize it was Alexander until he knelt before her, shushing her gently.
She stared at him for a moment, the concern written into the lines of his face. Heedless of the place and the potential for an audience, she dove into his arms and pressed her face into his collar.
Warm skin scented with shaving lotion and starch. Warm arms, wrapped around her without question. Warm breath at the nape of her neck as he bent to embrace her fully. She closed her eyes and allowed Alexander to overpower her senses with no other thought than gratitude for his presence.
After a long moment, he pulled away. Arms still around her waist, his dark gaze searched hers. “What’s the matter?”
“I saw a dead man,” she whispered.
His hands twitched on her waist. “What happened?”
She told him. When she got to the part about Nick mentioning he had leave to examine the body, he stood and took a few paces away. She hadn’t realized he’d been kneeling in front of her the entire explanation and looked about sheepishly. She saw no one, to her relief.
“He took you into a house where a man had died?” Alexander asked. His voice was quiet, but his tone was sharp.
“I agreed to go,” Saffron said. “I wasn’t expecting … what I saw, but Nick made it clear he suspected the worst.”
His nostrils flared on a heavy exhale. He shook his head, then his eyes caught on something on the opposite side of the library. “The faculty meeting. I came to look for you. It started ten minutes ago.”
Saffron turned to the clock on the other end of the room and bolted to her feet. “Blast!” ItwasFriday, and that was why the library was deserted. The students were off enjoying their weekends, and the staff belonging to the sciences were at the meeting. She followed him out of the library, out of the gallery, and down a hall. Why had she fallen apart just when she needed most to be put together?
CHAPTER21
Their steps were quick as they made their way to the hall where faculty meetings were held. The long room was filled with several massive tables, along which department heads and professors were seated. Researchers who didn’t teach and assistants sat in chairs lining the walls. Saffron followed Alexander inside. His overcoat was slung over two chairs next to the door.
Alexander had saved her a seat. She glanced at him, but he’d given his attention to the person currently speaking at the table. It took her only a moment to see that he was angry. His jaw was clenched, his nostrils still flared. In his lap, his right hand rested, fisted so tightly his scars were white.
“I’m sorry for making you late,” she whispered to him as they sat down.
He shook his head slightly.
“I appreciate you coming to collect me,” she added.
“Don’t mention it,” he said from the corner of his mouth.
She fell silent for a minute, listening to someone from finances drone on about budgets. “You saved me a seat.” He glanced at her and nodded. “Why?”
She could barely hear him sigh. “I wanted to speak to you about what I said the other night.”
“You did?”
To Alexander’s left, someone cleared their throat. Alexander was quiet until the talk of budgets ended and the main table moved on tothe class schedule for the next semester. “I wanted to apologize. I spoke without thinking, and I wasn’t being fair.”
“Iwasn’t being fair,” she said, putting her hand on his hand for the briefest of moments. “I had no right to demand to know anything. I’m sorry.”
Alexander turned just enough to look at her. He was frowning. “I would like for you to have the right to … ask me things. I would like for us to be able to speak to each other openly. About personal matters.”
Her mouth fell open for a moment. “You—you want me to ask you things. Personal things.”
