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The scent of books flowed off of her like ambrosia, drawing and urging him in and toward her without even thinking. He had frozen in reaction, because of course he was. The last time he had faced such a reaction, he had been lured in by a vampire.
She was thoroughly wrapped up in whatever book she was holding, and he found that, for the first time in a very long time, he was more interested in the person holding the book than the book itself.
She was relaxed, calm, and slow in a world that seemed to move far too fast for a man of his age. There was a gentleness as her fingers moved down the page they were touching, almost reverently, and he wondered what it would feel like, to have that touch run down his chest, or across his fanged teeth.
as she looked up from where their hands were still touching, holding. He wasn’t letting go, and now, his thumb was brushing the back of her knuckles. It sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt her heart, already rapidly beating in her chest, pick up speed.
for while I did originally plan to look for a book or two, I find that I have instead been led to you, and I find you to be far more interesting than any book this store contains.
“It appears, Rosamund, that while both of us love the words written within these books, neither of us is very good at using any of them.”
As it turned out, his cold touch did indeed set her on fire.
The book is a small thing, a token of my appreciation for a conversation that I know will be enlightening, and for the pleasure of your company. You are giving me the gift of your time, which is a fleeting thing, I imagine, so I am grateful for it.”
“You seem to be doing a lot of that,” Rosamund said, cutting him off as she looked up at him. “Warning me. Preparing me for unfortunate things. And yet, nothing thus far has been anything of the sort.”
The woman in her was pressing her thighs together, trying to remind herself that showing off his library was not a form of foreplay... ... Okay, no, there was no point in lying to herself. This was definitely foreplay.
“I am never leaving,” she repeated again, still not looking at Declan. She was in love. In love with this library. In love with this space. All she needed was a warm cup of tea, a good blanket, and some fuzzy socks, and she was sold. She was never leaving. “That can be arranged,” Declan murmured,
“A book can take you somewhere,” Rosamund said suddenly, her head tilted to the side. “A bookshelf can take you anywhere. A library can take you everywhere.
Was she waiting for him to respond? Or was she waiting for him to do something?
“The only way I can stay forever is if you make me immortal, like you.”
“I love your books and I love your shelves and I love your library. It would be so easy to love you.”
“If you’re... I mean, I think I speak for the both of us when I say we’re sexually attracted to one another, but ignore the condition if—” “My attraction is in question?” Declan interrupted as he leaned in. He took in another deep breath of her throat, and then moved upwards, the side of his face brushing against hers. She shuddered at the almost nuzzling gesture, and felt his lips press against the corner of her ear, not a kiss, but simply present.
“Say it,” he growled, leaning in to her. “Tell me you desire what I long for.”
