To meet a legend.
“I wanted to show ye the earl’s collection.”
Glancing once around the room, she nodded. “And to confirm you really are?—”
“I reallyamAberdeen Jones. Or rather, I write under that name. Which is a stupid name, I’m willing to admit.”
But she was peering at him once more, as if trying to decide if she believed him. “And you really did all those things you wrote about? Or are they made up?”
“I really did all those things. I didn’t embellish much. If anything, I skipped some of the stories just so it could all fit.” A memory came to him. “I left out the hippo encounter when I was crossing the Nile, for instance.”
“When you were hunting for Amenhotep’s scepter?”
She really had read all of hisAdventures?
“Nay, this was the year before, when I was a guest of the Khedive. Judging from the way he laughed as I splashed out of the river, he knew exactly what I was in for.”
Instead of chuckling with him, she pulled away, wrapping her arms around her middle as she crossed to stand beside one of their host’s heavy chairs.
“Olive?” How had he offended her?
“I…” She shook her head. “You have lived such an amazing life. Had so many adventures, Mr. Oliphant, and I?—”
“Phineas, please,” he corrected gently, then crossed to her, wanting to ease her discomfort, but not certain how. “Or Phin.”
“Or Aberdeen?” she asked, half-teasingly half-hopefully as she peeked up at him.
His hands fell to his side. “I’d even allow you to call me that, but not in public please. It’s too embarrassing.”
“I think you should be proud. IfIhad lived half the adventures you have, I would be so happy.”
Suddenly, her hesitation made sense. “Ye want to travel and see the world, aye?” he whispered. “That’s why ye subscribe to the journal and read my stories.”
Mutely, she nodded, looking tiny and lost and ashamed.
Cursing himself, Phin drew her into his arms.
It should’ve been awkward, considering he barely knew the woman. But instead, it felt natural to hold her like this, to tuck her head under his chin and press his hands against her back, as if he could warm her.
“Olive,” he whispered, “ye are a remarkable woman. Nay, a remarkableperson. Do ye ken how intelligent ye are? And kind, yetfierce, as well. And…” He shook his head. “Brave. So brave, soperfect.”
“I am not brave.” Her voice was muffled by his chest and served to remind him he had a beautiful woman in his arms.
Trying to keep his cock from stirring and alerting her to his less-than-noble response, he cleared his throat and pulled her awayfar enough she could peek up at him. “Olive, ye no’ only ken enough about Roman architecture to write a full paper on it, but ye submitted it to the Society of Archaeology. That’s bravery right there.”
She scoffed quietly and looked away, dropping her chin. “It will not be accepted.”
“I ken it will be,” he assured her firmly. “Now, would ye like to hold mysphaerae?”
To his surprise, a laugh burst out of her, but when she pressed her lips together, it emerged as a sort of snort. Quickly, she turned away and pressed her fingers to her mouth.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, amused at her response.
“I am sorry.” She sounded as if she were gasping for air. “A terribly uncouth thought came to me, and I should have contained myself.”
Well, well. His little scholar haduncouththoughts, did she?
Grinning, Phin tucked his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Tell me, did it have anything to do with my offering ye the chance to handle my balls?”
