Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
David stepped inside and stared for a moment. Books lined every wall, going all the way up to the ceiling, and he was comforted by the smell. Bibliosmia. It was the technical term for that woodsy, earthy smell old books had. The smell actually came from the compounds in paper breaking down over time, but he’d long ago dismissed the obvious metaphor. Some things didn’t need to have a deeper meaning.
He’d always loved libraries. They were his happy place. From the time he was a child, he’d felt safe in these spaces where books and knowledge were supreme.
“Are you going to break into song?” Tessa whispered.
She seemed determined to drag him back to reality. He looked down at her. “Why would I do that?”
Her lips quirked up and she tucked a long strand of raven hair behind her ear. “It’s what Belle did in Beauty and the Beast. Her eyes got as wide as yours just did and she burst into song.”
Such a brat. She also seemed determined to make him smile. “I guess that makes you the beast.”
Instead of getting offended, her grin amped up. “Don’t you forget it.”
She stepped away, strolling around the circular library, her graceful hands skimming along the spines of the books. He’d been surprised at how she’d handled the tour. She’d held his hand through most of it, and instead of asking Luis questions, she’d looked to David. When that woman focused on him, he felt like the world was a softer, warmer place.
And a place where his dick suddenly wanted to take over for his brain.
“I have to admit I was surprised you showed up with a girl.” Luis moved close to him, keeping his voice down.
“She’s a woman, and I didn’t expect it either. It happened pretty fast.”
Luis glanced his way, his jaw tight. “What do you know about her? I mean, I know you met her one night and then she seemed to disappear.”
They’d gone over this. Tessa had been quick with the perfectly reasonable explanation. It made him wonder exactly how long she’d been thinking about it. She’d seemed torn over how to handle their situation on the boat, and then on the bus, she’d been quiet. She’d sat in the back watching him as he’d talked to the other travelers. The walk had been perfectly pleasant but pointed to the fact that she was right. His brain was more on her than the work he was supposed to do. He’d wanted to make sure she was comfortable, content.
But he was pretty sure she was wrong. He was almost certain sleeping with her would do nothing but amplify his preoccupation. He imagined seeing her naked now. Even as she walked around the library and the sunlight hit her skin, he was wondering how it would caress her body in the early morning, how she was practically glowing like the goddess she was.
Knowing exactly how gorgeous she was wouldn’t make him stop fantasizing about her.
“Professor?”
How long had he been thinking about her? The woman was playing hell with his concentration. He shook it off and looked back to Luis. “I’m sorry. I got distracted. What were you saying?”
Luis looked at him like he’d grown an extra head. “I was asking how much you knew about her.”
“A lot. Why?” He knew the important things. He knew he was crazy about her and she was crazy skittish about him. That was a problem he was working on.
“She said she worked for an oil company?”
She’d said that. It had been a good call. If she needed to, she could likely get her former fiancé’s family to back up her cover. And it gave her an excuse to have not called him that didn’t include her being a scaredy cat. “Malone Oil.”
“And you know that for a fact?” Luis asked.
He wasn’t sure what was going on in his grad student’s head. “What’s this about?”
Luis looked over as though to ensure Tessa couldn’t be listening to them. “You’re close to starting your plan. Have you thought about that? You’re going to write the History Journal article when we get back, right?”
He had a publishing plan. It was a strategy he’d put together with the help of some of his colleagues. He would write a couple of shorter articles for professional journals, try to get some magazines interested, and then he would write the actual biography. It was a good way to keep his name out there and build some word of mouth for the book. “Yes. I’ve already got most of the first two articles ready. Coming here and writing about the trip will give the articles some personal experience.”
He’d written the historical aspects. It wouldn’t take him long to layer in his personal thoughts and how coming here had impacted him. He was targeting a journal that specialized in “lost” late-twentieth-century history.