“Don’t apologize. Just watch what you say. You’re in a royal household. I’ll call you what I want.”
I saw her back stiffen. Her heels clacked against the marble floor. It took everything in me not to smack her ass firmly and press her up against the wall next to the coat of arms. The knight could watch me fuck her. Watch her come hard as I defiled the family heirlooms.
“Here.” I pressed the small of her back. “The library.”
Her gasp was worth everything. She stood at the entrance. I’d never thought about what this room would look like through the veil of someone else’s eyes. But Molly gave me that glimpse. Her awe was palpable.
She walked toward the shelves, careful not to touch any of the volumes. Her fingers hovered just short of the spines.
“These are amazing. I can’t believe this collection. There are books in here that must be a hundred years old. I-I’m speechless.”
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “You can touch the books, Molly.”
She shook her head. “No. I couldn’t.”
I walked toward her. I wrapped my arms around her back, sliding my fingers through hers. She sighed into my back. “Like this.” I reached our hands forward, gliding over a hardback.
She giggled. “You would pick XX. Such a rebel.”
“Not breaking any literary laws I take it?”
“Not with this one.” She leaned into me as she scanned the shelves upward toward the ceiling. It formed a stained-glass dome.
I couldn’t remember the last time I looked up in this room. I couldn’t remember when I gave a shit about ancient texts or what was in here. How many copies of Shakespeare were there? Did we have Keats and Kipling? How extensive were our American authors?
I straightened her shoulders so that she was standing upright.
“I have lunch with the prime minister.” I don’t know why I felt like I needed to explain my absence.
“Oh.”
“But stay.” I turned for the door. “And touch the books, Molly.”
She grinned slyly. It was the first glimpse of the girl in my bed this morning. “Maybe. If you think it would be ok.”
“I expect it.”
I closed the door behind me.
12
Molly
I got lost in the books. Hours passed. It could have been days. I didn’t stop to find anything to eat or drink. I was mesmerized by Damon’s family collection. I had questions. Who put it together? Were there records on where each book was acquired? Was there a palace librarian?
I thumbed through a tattered copy of XX. My neck and shoulders were sore. I had my own research to complete. And I hadn’t checked in on Brooklyn.
There was no way to know when Damon would finish with the prime minister. I returned the book to the shelf and ventured out of the library. The halls were quiet. I remembered which direction we had walked this morning.
The elevator was at the end of this corridor.
I arrived, smiling at the guards.
“Hi.”
The one on the right broke his staring contest with the wall and cut a glance at me.
“I’d like to go upstairs.” I knew my voice wasn’t confident. I didn’t know the protocol or what to say. If he would scoot, I could hop on the elevator.