First Thirst (Craving 1)
From what I could see, this huge chamber housed every classic book known to man. Hell, here was the most exceptional use of space I have ever seen.
Out of nowhere, Davis appeared at my back and stood to one side. I gave him the smile I was feeling and his eyes opened wide.
I explained, “Books.”
He apparently couldn’t help himself and gave me a half smile. “Yes, miss.”
I put my hands together and tried to restrain my squeal of delight, which only made it explode out of my mouth as a loud squeak.
I looked at Davis again as I went to a wall of shelves that had a circular ladder to its second story and added, “This is…a book heaven. This is a dream. A…a bookworm’s paradise and here gushing before you is a grade A bookworm—that’s me, bookworm.”
I think he grunted at my declaration, so I naturally winked at him and moved to finger as many books as I could whilst reading their titles out loud. I turned back to him and said, “Davis. These…these are…magnificent.”
“Yes, miss,” he agreed.
I went towards him and ignored the startled look on his face as I grabbed his arms. “Davis…many of these are first editions.”
He inclined his head. “It is what I have been told. His lordship’s family collected them over the centuries you see, and I believe his lordship was also an avid collector.”
“Damn, will I ever be able to read all of these?” At the moment, that was the only problem I foresaw in my future. I got on tippy toes and dropped a kiss on his cool cheek, as I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm, and I believe that shocked the bejeebers out of him, but I also think I saw a twinkle light up his eyes.
I moved along the shelves, unable to restrain the sounds of delight as I continued to read title after title of classics bound in old leather.
I turned back to inspect the rest of the large room.
Bookshelves closeted long lead-paned windows with cushioned window-seats that overlooked garden beds alive with spring color.
The furniture in the dramatic room gave it a cozy feel, as brown leather chairs and small sofas were scattered with occasional tables throughout. You could pick out a book and plop yourself down for a read anywhere you chose.
A fireplace dominated the back wall, though it was not presently lit, and at the front end of the room set in a bowed window was a gothic desk facing the length of the room and the fireplace.
The computer, fax machine, and printer all looked out of place set up in an L-shape beside the desk.
The room had various reading lights set up throughout, but the light from the windows would have been more than adequate.
I was so caught up in this wonderful room that I didn’t notice that Mr. Ascot had arrived and stood watching me until I turned back to Davis, who inclined his head to both of us and announced that he would bring refreshments.
That allowed me time to inspect the new arrival. He was not at all what I had expected. For one thing, I had assumed he would be if not elderly, at least of mature years. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be more than in his late twenties.
He was also quite tall, lean and if not exactly handsome, very easy to look at. His eyes were gray and warm. His hair was long and a bit windblown in style, framing his pleasant face. His smile was easy. No. He was not what I expected at all.
He stretched out his hand in welcome and said, “Hallo, Miss Skye. I hope you had an agreeable journey.”
His accent, I had already noted when we spoke on the phone, was British, in person, it seemed more so, and quite gentlemanly.
I immediately gave him my hand. “Yes, yes, thank you.” People always say yes when asked that question by a host, even if your flight was from hell. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Indeed, I should have made myself known, but it was very pleasant watching your enthusiasm for his lordship’s book collection. I am quite enamored of them myself.” He released my hand and in old world style, seemed to bow ever so slightly. I was struck again by the fact that he appeared to be no more than in his late twenties, yet there was something old world about him and…something else that rang a bell in my head. I wondered how long he had been attending to the MacLeod estate. As I smiled at him, I was tickled by another odd sensation, something elusive. What vibe was I getting off him?
“Well, it is great to meet you so soon after arriving here,” I said in response to this.
“And for me, Miss Skye,” he answered, “it is lovely to put a face to the voice.”
He was dressed for business in a three piece brown suit and I wondered what he would look like in casual clothes.
He moved towards one of the brown leather winged chairs and with a slight movement of his hand, invited me to take a seat.
I did and he pulled the matching chair up closer before he sat and leaned back. “Well, Miss Skye, you must have a great many questions?”