Dallas (The Wilde Heirs #3)

Chapter 1

Dallas

The first time I step into the small, dilapidated, underfunded public library in the dinky town of Wilde, Arizona, and set my gaze on the only person who appears to be in the building—the librarian—I know two undeniable and disturbing facts.

The woman is not who she appears to be, and she is mine.

I don’t know why I know those facts with such certainty. I can’t explain that part, but I do.

She turns her gaze in my direction as the door shuts behind me. There’s a thick, heavy, pregnant pause as we stare at each other. Only a few yards and the check-out desk separate us.

I’m unnerved by the realization that not much space will separate us in the future. I don’t even like that she’s so close and yet so far from me. It’s not as if I could walk around to the back of the desk, pull her into my arms, and kiss her until I’m certain she understands she’s mine.

I don’t even want to do those things. I’m disturbed that I’m even thinking such thoughts. I don’t want to entertain the idea of claiming a woman right now. It’s not on my short list of things to do, and I’m still salty from my divorce, even though it’s been three years since it was finalized.

Seconds tick by as we hold each other’s gazes. My chest tightens. Her breath hitches, her cheeks turn pink, and she bites the corner of her bottom lip. She knows.

I almost feel smug that she’s as aware of our connection as I am, but I force myself to paste on a stern, grouchy expression because I’m kind of aggravated with whatever force of nature has put this woman in front of me today.

When I finally approach the desk, I set my hands on the surface and lean toward her, glancing at the nametag pinned to her blouse. Arianna .

She’s panting, which pleases me, but I won’t share that detail with her. The first thing I say to her is, “Do those matronly, horn-rimmed glasses even have prescription lenses?”

She gasps and takes a step back before removing the glasses with shaky fingers and setting them on the counter. She swallows. She’s rattled, pleasing me more.

My cock gets hard as she licks her lips. “Can I help you with something?” she asks in a wobbly voice.

I let my gaze roam up and down her frame, taking in every lie and only a few truths.

For some reason, she’s trying to look older than she is.

She’s in her mid-twenties at most. Her hair is up in a bun, but I suspect if it were down and I pulled one of the brown curls, it would reach midway down her back.

She’s wearing a white blouse with only the very top button undone.

Her skirt is black, polyester, and knee length.

I brazenly lean over the top of the counter to see that she has on sensible black pumps and pantyhose.

I haven’t seen a woman wearing pantyhose in years.

I didn’t even know they sold them anymore.

It’s like she pulled this outfit out of her grandmother’s closet this morning. I’m not complaining. It’s almost cute. But it doesn’t suit her. This isn’t who she is. The hint of bra I get through the material of her blouse indicates lace. It doesn’t fit with the rest of her ensemble.

Arianna has no jewelry on, except small gold balls in her ears. Her nails are short, blunt, and well-groomed but not painted. What I can see of her skin is tanned and smooth.

When I rock back on my feet and return my gaze to her deep brown eyes, I find them wide. Her mouth is open. My blatant perusal has shaken her further.

She jerks her gaze down and pretends to straighten a pile of what appears to be notecards before I realize they are the check-out cards libraries used to use decades ago. I shouldn’t be surprised that the Wilde Public Library still has them.

I reach for one of the cards, letting my fingers slide along hers as I gently tug one from her grip. “There are places that still use these things? I know Wilde is behind the times, but what year is it here exactly?” I tease.

She giggles, and my cock jumps to attention. A moment after, she covers her mouth, sobers, and takes a step back, releasing the cards. “You’re one of the Wilde grandchildren, aren’t you?”

I nod. “Yep.” I set the card back on the pile and swipe her glasses off the counter so I can hold them up to look through the lenses. I smirk as I set them back down. Just as I suspected. Clear.

Her eyes are wide, and her jaw hangs open. “Are you always this rude?”

I chuckle. “I’m pretty sure I can be a lot ruder. My ex-wife would say I’m a total asshole.” I glance at her hands, which she is now wringing together. “You’re not from here,” I point out.

“Neither are you.”

I grin. “So, we have something in common.” Am I flirting with this girl? I’ve lost all good sense. I rest my elbows on the counter and lean casually against it. “Are you hiding from someone?” I joke.

Arianna’s brown eyes widen again, her cheeks turn bright red, and she stumbles backward. She only barely manages to stop herself from falling on her butt when she reaches out a hand to grab the back of the stool.

I jerk myself upright. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I was kidding.”

I really am an asshole. My ex was right. I consider rounding the counter to make sure she’s okay, but that would probably make things worse.

She’s shaking as she rights herself. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly. She’s flustered, and it’s my fault.

I draw in a deep breath. “I’ll stop being a dick now. I’m Dallas Wilde. I was hoping the library might have old blueprints for various buildings in town. My cousins and I want to assess which buildings need the most urgent attention.”

She swallows and nods. “Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe. I’ve never taken the time to dig into the archives. There are lots of boxes in the storage room. No one has ever asked for something like that before.”

“Would you mind if I take a look?”

She licks her full lips and nods. “Sure. I don’t see why not.” Pointing toward a room behind her, she continues, “It might be overwhelming.” She turns and opens the door.

I walk behind the check-out desk and follow her into the room.

I cringe. What a mess. There are ancient metal shelves lining both walls with stacks of boxes on them.

They seem to be labeled on the ends, but I wonder how accurate the information is.

A long folding table at least thirty years old extends down the middle of the small room.

Four equally aged folding chairs are tucked under both sides of the table.

“Wow…”

“Uh, yeah, I haven’t done much with this room. The entire library was in disarray when I first arrived. I’ve been, uh…”

I turn from looking at the stacks of boxes to look at her. “You’ve been what, Arianna?” I say gently. I need to soften my tone with her. Enough snark. She’s nervous. I’m sending her into a panic.

I’m even more curious about what her story is by the second, but if I want answers, I’ll need to tone down my attitude.

She shrugs. “Never mind. You don’t want to hear all this.” She lifts a hand to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, but it pops right back out. I can tell her curls are unruly when her hair is down. Something I intend to see in the near future.

I pull out a rickety folding chair, uncertain if it will hold me, and carefully sit. “I do. Tell me.”

She draws in a deep breath, staring at me with narrowed, uncertain eyes before continuing. “The previous librarian was…”

“Inept?”

She gives me a small smile. “That’s very kind. Anyway, there were books just left on shelves with no rhyme or reason. I think she had put them in any open space for many years. It’s taken me this long to get everything organized.”

I glance at the door to this backroom. She called it a storage room. I guess it is exactly that—a room to store old documents. “Does anyone ever come in?”

She sighs. “Not often. I’d like to get some programs going to lure more people in, especially kids. It was too chaotic to do that until just recently. I’m sorry I’ve never managed to open even one of these boxes.” She nods toward the stacks on the shelves.

“It’s okay. I’ll dig through them, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” She takes a step back.

I should let her go, but I don’t want her to leave. “My understanding is that most of the town is in disrepair and funding is very low. How have you managed to keep the library open?”

“Grants.” She wrings her fingers together. “I’ve spent a lot of time applying for state grants. There is money available for small-town libraries.”

“Ah. That’s good.” She’s bright and obviously works hard. She must love books to devote so much energy to a very dismal cause. “Where did you move here from? What lured you to Wilde, Arizona?”

She stiffens and looks away before turning. “I should really get back to the desk in case someone needs me.” She flees so fast I can’t even respond. She hasn’t gone far, of course. She’s only a few yards away from me on the other side of the door.

I stare at the open doorway between us for a long time. I want to go after her. I want to ask her a million questions. I want to grab her around the waist, pull her onto my lap, and grill her.

Why is she in Wilde? Where did she come from? Why is she hiding behind fake glasses and frumpy clothes?

My follow-up questions are more invasive.

What does she taste like? What color are her nipples? How loud will she moan when I make her come?

I don’t follow her, though. I’ll give her some space.

I have to. I’m more confused by my reaction to her than she is.

I need a minute. I turn toward the endless number of archive boxes and inhale deeply.

The good news is it looks like I will have all the time in the world to get to know Arianna, the mysterious librarian, because it’s going to take a lot more than one afternoon to go through these boxes and find out everything I want to about Wilde.