Chapter 4
Soren
Of course it was foolish to follow the chit into the library. But there was a subterranean fire heaving within him that he needed to quell. And it had to be done. With her. And apparently it had to be done in the library.
Besides, she was just one girl.
What was the harm of one conversation?
But when he stumbled upon her—though stumbled implies it was upon accident and it was indeed not upon accident that he found her upon following her—and asked, “A little librarian, are you?” he immediately saw the potential harm.
Red flags waving in the air, actually. And quite large ones, at that. But as was his nature, he ignored them.
What he couldn’t ignore, and neither could her flaming red cheeks which were incidentally the very color of the red flags whipping around the air, was the pink book in the palm of her hands.
Oh.
He knew that book.
He knew it well.
It was by far and above his favorite book. Which was saying something.
A subtle clearing of his throat ought to restore his composure.
“Librarian?” she asked in what one could only label an innocent voice.
“I would have said so, considering…” His arms made a slow sweeping gesture to the bookshelves. “But perhaps you prefer an alternative title?” He canted his head and raised his brows toward the explicit book in her hand.
“Oh…” She dropped the book like it was a burning hot rock, jumped to her feet and backpedaled toward the window. Precisely where he wished he could be given the increasing heat within his body.
When she reached the window, she simply stated, “That.”
“Yes…that. Quite the read, wouldn’t you say?”
“You’ve read it?” she asked in disbelief. And somehow he knew that high pitched note of incredulity was not in her default range.
“Of course—”
“Well, that’s besides the point. Really.” She fumbled with the curtain, practically backing herself behind it.
But he didn’t want her to leave. Or even hide from him. “I hadn’t marked you as someone to steal away into a library and read French novels.” He approached her slowly.
“Oh, it’s not French—” she caught herself and blushed profusely, which only made him chuckle at her innocence.
“Do you read—”
A rattle of the doorknob announced someone’s imminent intrusion.
“Quick,” he hissed, pushing her fully behind the curtain and going with her.
“Must you—”
He put his hand over her mouth just as a couple burst into the room.
It was dark, but he could see how widely her eyes rounded.
The voices were muffled, not necessarily due to distance and much more probably due to alcohol consumption.
The woman squealed and the man chortled.
“What do we have here?” The woman asked. “Did you plan this? How did you know that this was my favorite book?”
“I know more than you think,” was the man’s vague reply.
Soren rolled his eyes. This was going to be painful.
Though…
The body he hovered against said otherwise. The hover was real. There was no contact. Just her soft puffs of breath close to his jaw. And a body that may as well have been a raging fire for all the heat it radiated.
For a brief moment in time he considered that this might not be the worst possible predicament. That is, until he caught her eyes. Before, she had looked irritated, but now he could see something akin to horror glimmer across her face.
Lifting his hand off of her mouth, he nodded and encouraged her to speak by leaning in.
“We need to get out of here,” she whispered. And those words really shouldn’t have caused his entire body to shiver, yet somehow they did.
To peek around the curtains was not too much of a risk, given their attention to each other, but all Soren could see was that an escape through the door would be next to impossible.
The window however…was an option.
“The door’s blocked. We’ll exit through the window and find our way back in through the terrace.”
“But what if they hear us?”
“At least they won’t see you.”
She nodded and in less than a fraction of a second, he cracked the window and practically pushed her out of it.
A grumbled shout—but no impending footsteps—was all that followed them out into the darkness.