The woman was featherbrained, to be certain, but she was kind, and Esme was grateful for her financial contribution that had allowed the two of them to purchase a suitable house on the edge of Clareville Grove with a lovely garden that Thea faithfully tended.
Esme felt a pang of guilt. Poor Thea and Mr. and Mrs. Craddock. It was not their fault that suddenly Esme found herself embroiled in some strange circumstances involving a secretive man named the Raven and cursed bracelets. It at least gave Esme some peace knowing that she’d be able to bring her aunt with her to wherever it was Mr. Grey was taking them.
Esme slipped back into her office and found Mr. Grey perusing the shelves full of books.
“You have an impressive collection,” he said.
Pride swelled within her as she followed his gaze to her vast array of bound volumes. No doubt a man like Fielding—one trusted by Solomon’s—would appreciate such an extensive library. Even if he didn’t appreciate the woman in possession of it. “I don’t suppose we can take all of them,” she said, more to herself than him.
“We have neither the room nor the time.”
“I can’t imagine what’s made you so prickly,” she said. “Now, let’s see what we can discover about removing this infernal band.” Knowing it was utterly futile, but unable to stop herself, she tugged on the gold encircling her wrist. It did not budge. “I seem to remember,” she said as she climbed onto the ladder, “there was mention of the bands in one of these.” She traced her finger along the row of green leather books. “Professor MacAdo is rather eccentric in his views.”
“Do you want me to help you with that?” Fielding asked.
“I believe I can manage.” She stretched, and with the tip of her finger managed to work the last book on the row out of its place. She held it out behind her, and when he didn’t immediately take it from her, she shook it impatiently.
He pulled the book from her hand, their fingers brushing during the exchange. Heat coursed up her arm, and for a moment she closed her eyes to revel in the sensation. He cleared his throat. She jerked her hand back, yet the heated sensation remained.
“There are others, though,” she continued. “One more recent, perhaps one of those journals on the desk.” She continued pulling books and handing them to him, careful not to touch his hand again. One after another she collected books until he finally spoke.
“Enough. You have selected a quarter of the books in this entire library.” His tone was fierce, but Esme felt no fear.
After retrieving three more books, she began descending the ladder. “Oh, and this one might have some tidbits.” She pulled a small brown book from its shelf.
He eyed the stack in her arms. “You can’t bring all of them with us. Go through them and select only the essentials.” With his arms crossed over his chest, he seemed foreboding, but all Esme could think about was the sensual line of his jaw.
Unable to withstand the temptation any longer, she reached over and, with one hand, ran her fingers across the stubble that covered his chin. Bristly, yet not all together an unpleasant feeling. His jaw seemed to clench under her fingers, but when he had no other response, she forced herself to step away from him.
She smothered her disappointment. After all, it was she who was affected by the curse of the bracelet. She couldn’t expect him to feel the same rising passions for her that she felt growing within for him.
“We can examine the books over here,” she said, pointing to the large table by the windows.
Men didn’t choose women with brains; he’d said so himself earlier—books were a waste of time. And he thought her to be a dreamer. She had no business tempting herself like this. Not unless she was content to live as someone she was not for the rest of her days, to stifle her intelligence and play the part of an addle-brained female.
“It is most bothersome to be wearing this cursed band. Under any other circumstances, I would find you unpleasant and rude,” she said.
He cocked one eyebrow. “And instead?”
She released a short puff of a breath and dropped the books onto the table. They scattered in an uneven rainbow. “Instead I should like nothing better than to kiss you, Mr. Grey.”
“I can assure you, Miss Worthington, that whatever romantic notions you are having are completely misguided.” He leaned forward. “Kissing me will not”—he paused for a moment, letting his eyes roam the length of her—“cure what is ailing you.”
Warmth spread through her like the richest of chocolate. She didn’t believe him. Surely, kissing him would prove to be the most perfect of cures.
As if he’d read her mind, he said, “If you wish to flirt with temptation, I will not stop you.” He held his hands up as if he were defenseless.
Taking a cleansing breath, she turned away from Mr. Grey and focused her attention on the books in front of them. “Yes, thank you for that reminder. I assure you, I am trying to keep my attention on our current predicament and not my”—her voice dropped to a whisper— lustful feelings for you.”
Merely saying the word lust seemed to stir the feeling within her. It seemed such a forbidden word. She doubted she’d ever even said it aloud before now.
Since such thoughts were hardly helpful, she pushed them aside and said, “Let us start digging. I don’t suppose we have much time to select which books to bring with us.”
Once they were both seated, she tried to focus on the words on the page, but from the corner of her eye she could see his long fingers make delicate work of turning the pages in the book he perused. The masculine scent of sandalwood soap seemed to waft toward her like candle smoke. Oh, for mercy’s sake.
Several moments passed, and she finally forced herself to stare at the words until she’d managed to read, and comprehend, the paragraph before her. But her mind would not still. He was sitting so close to her she could feel the warmth pour off his body. She closed her eyes and instantly became aware of his steady breathing, the sound of his hands stroking through the pages of the book before him.
In her mind she saw him turn to her, his eyes darkened with passion as he lifted her to the table. He said nothing, but bent forward to kiss her throat. Shivers of desire scattered across her arms and down her chest. Then his mouth made quick work of the skin at her shoulders before he finally kissed her full on the mouth.
