Leather Bound. Shanna Germain
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outside the window and kissed briefly, his lips touching hers with a familiarity that made me feel like a voyeur.
Looking away, I forced my gaze to land on his, taking in his unusual eyes, his attentive expression. After a long moment, the air righted itself so that I could breathe and then again so I could talk. Soon enough I could even stick my hand out, worrying only a little whether I’d been sweating.
‘I’m Janine Archer,’ I said, quickly, before he could take my outstretched hand and render me speechless yet again.
He spoke as his hand settled in mine. His skin was as warm as I’d imagined, a soft heat that seemed to sink into my palm. His fingers were firm, confident. He didn’t shake my hand so much as hold it, tight and secure, as though it was an important package that had been given to his care.
He’d said something.
‘I’m sorry?’ I said. I hadn’t heard him at all. What I did hear was Lily giving a quick, sharp laugh behind me and then trying to hide it with a cough.
‘I said …’ He enunciated each word carefully, as though I was eight, but a smile played lightly at the corners of his lips as he spoke. And besides, I guessed I deserved it. I was certainly acting like I was eight. Or at least eighteen. ‘I’m Davian Cavanaugh.’
‘I’m Janine Archer,’ I said. Again.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘You told me.’
This time, Lily didn’t even bother to try and hold her laughter in, damn her. Did I mention she’s the world’s loudest laugher? I wanted to turn around and pinch her earlobe or hide her away in the back room. Or something. It was impossible to be angry with her, though, once she started laughing. Shaking my head, I smiled apologetically at our potential customer.
‘Please excuse us,’ I urged. ‘We’re usually far more professional than this. It’s just been … one of those mornings.’
I fully expected Lily to make some kind of crack about me smelling like sex. Then I would have to kill her and stuff her into the back room.
She was blissfully quiet. For once.
Davian lifted his brow into a high arch, his expression clearly stating his disbelief that we were typically more functional than this. I couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t exactly seen us at our best. The old me, or rather the young me, would have written this entire conversation off as a disaster and fled the room with her cheeks burning and tears threatening to fall. But this was the new me, the adult me, the me who had a business to run and bills to pay.
Think Scarlett O’Hara.
That worked. I straightened my back and let go of Davian’s hand.
‘So, what book are you looking for, Mister Cavanaugh?’ I asked. ‘If it’s rare, first-edition, banned or signed, I guarantee I can find it for you.’
He took a moment to look around the store, letting his gaze linger over the shelves before he turned slowly back to me. I was struck again by the caramel swirls of his eyes, the way they seemed to radiate heat.
‘It’s none of those things, actually’ he said. ‘The book I’m looking for doesn’t exist.’
I barely missed a beat.
‘Luckily for you, books that don’t exist are my speciality,’ I said.
If he’d expected me to balk or turn down his offer, he didn’t let his surprise show.
‘I’ve heard that about you,’ he said.
Which caught me all off-guard.
‘What? You have?’
He shook his head, his smile turning slightly guilty. His eyes flashed darker with amusement.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I thought you were kidding. So I was kidding too.’
‘Actually, I was kidding.’ At least I thought I was. Now I was confused. Had I been kidding? Mostly. Hard-to-find was my speciality. Doesn’t-want-to-sell was also my speciality. Signed by a dead person in archival blue ink was also something I’d found once, at quite a price to the buyer. Was non-existent and completely bizarre my speciality? If this morning was any indication, it just might be.
I took a quick breath in through my nose, trying to get myself back onto a professional business track. I was well aware that Lily was making noises of shuffling papers on the counter behind me, but what she was really doing was recording all of this for later with her impossible memory. I’d hear about every single nuance of this as soon as she and I were alone.
‘In truth, I expected you to turn me down,’ he said.
‘I haven’t said yes yet,’ I countered. ‘But I like challenges.’
I especially liked challenges from men with caramel-coloured eyes and more than a little wickedness in the pages of their smile. More importantly, I liked the kind of challenges that forced me to use my brain, the kind that could distract me from my current challenge, who was probably still sleeping in my bed, dreaming about wedding rings or something.
This guy would either turn out to be a crackpot – chasing down a book that didn’t exist was one of the favoured pastimes of those with too much time, money or craziness, or all three, on their hands – or he’d turn out to be actually looking for something that didn’t exist. Either way, it was something to keep my mind occupied and my field of vision focused somewhere other than my love life.
‘You like challenges,’ he mused. There was something in his gaze that implied so much, and yet managed to still remain above board. I liked that, the sexuality that seemed aimed just at me, while maintaining a sense of decorum. It made me wonder what he’d be like at an elegant dinner party, all dressed up and making small talk while fingering you under the table.
‘Even impossible challenges?’ he asked.
I still had visions of his fingers, and what they might to do to me. The idea lent my voice a low tease that I didn’t mean it to have.
‘Let’s just say I’ve believed impossible things before,’ I said.
‘Even before breakfast?’
Was he ever going to stop throwing me for loops so I could get my brain in order? I felt suddenly and fiercely like Alice going down her rabbit hole.
‘Did you just misquote Lewis Carroll at me?’ I asked.
‘Maybe,’ he said.
Curiouser and curiouser. A lot of our customers covet books like fine art or hot women, but never actually read them. This man was not just looking for a book. He actually read books.
Could he possibly get any sexier? A better question was: could I trust myself to behave like a professional around him? I thought I could, but standing right here, right now, I had to admit I would have bet on anyone but myself to win that argument.
I figured I’d better get him into my office and put my work face on before I delved too deeply into questions I didn’t really want answers to.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Come on back, and we’ll see if I can help you make your unicorn of a book magically appear from thin air.’
From behind me, I heard Lily give another quiet snort of a giggle, but she suppressed it so fast I was hopeful that Davian hadn’t heard. If he had, his face didn’t change expression.
‘I would appreciate that,’ he said.
‘Right this way,’ I said.
* * *
While Davian followed me back towards the office, I kept wanting to turn around to look at him again. I resisted the urge, but barely. I could hear his fingers