The Ornithologist's Field Guide to Love (Love's Academic, #1)

by India Holton

plain brown coat, accompanied by a small hat, gloves, and air of cultivated intelligence, triggered fear in any man who glanced her way: one catcall, and she might educate them.

“I thought you were a nice girl,” he said. She looked him in the eye steadily. “That doesn’t mean I’m weak.”

She’d never been called a nickname before (except in the deep privacy of her own imagination, that is, where she kept a list of suggestions should anyone want one, although no one ever did).

Devon rolled his eyes, but he was grinning, and Beth warmed at the sight of it. Before she could chide him (or, God help her, giggle)

“So,” he said after a moment. “Who, exactly, hurt you?” It sounded like a casual inquiry, but beneath the words Beth heard a coldness that evoked weapons, the gathering of addresses, and a plan for vengeance.

Not that she didn’t intend to save herself, but a girl does like to have someone waiting in the wings, wanting to rescue her.

She was beyond description. She was something for which he needed a language of heartbeats and deep, satisfied sighs.