Where the Library Hides (Secrets of the Nile #2)

by Isabel Ibañez

For the readers who stayed up all night agonizing over the epilogue in What the River Knows: This one is dedicated to you.

“Marry me instead.”

“I want to marry you.”

Slowly, he touched the tip of his index finger to the corner of my mouth. “No one else.”

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a delicate underthing had slipped off the bed and onto his shoe. I bent to retrieve it, but he beat me to it. He carefully placed it on one of the pillows. I detected the faintest blush blooming high on his cheeks. It occurred to me then that I’d never seen Whit blush.

I’d seen him messy and smirking, furious and amused. But never embarrassed. It was this sight that reminded me of who I was dealing with. Whit was my friend, maybe even the best one I had. He’d kissed me when we thought we’d die trapped in that tomb, the air slowly turning against us, quietly dangerous. He had held my hand in the dark and shared his biggest regret with me. When someone had dared to hurt me, he’d ended them. This was the man asking for my hand.

I had fallen in love with Whitford Hayes. I loved him with my whole heart, despite my head telling me to have better sense. But I loved him in a way that meant forever. I hadn’t known for sure until this moment, as I stared into his face, which was somehow vulnerable and remote all at once. Terror gripped me. I’d never felt so stricken, so raw, so exposed.

He’d observed me the second I walked out onto the terrace, of course, and he tilted his chin up in order to meet me head-on.

“Why did you kiss me in the tomb?” I demanded. “Because I didn’t want to die without having done it once,” he said immediately. “At least.”

“Darling, I don’t give a damn about her.” He leaned forward and held my gaze. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I’m still waiting for your answer, Inez.” A zip of electricity went through me, and I fought to keep myself from trembling. It was a big decision—the biggest of my life. “Are you sure?” “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.” “Let’s get married, then,” I said, breathless.

He nodded and then reached for me, tugging me close. “I didn’t think we’d pull this off, Inez.” One of his arms braced my lower back, and a warm feeling spread down to my toes. The soft linen of his shirt brushed against my temple and I heard his steady heartbeat under my cheek. “Why are you shaking?” he whispered against my hair. “I didn’t think you were coming,” I whispered back. Whit moved me far enough away that he could gaze down into my face. “Why on earth would you think that?” “You were distant earlier,” I said. “It didn’t feel like we were in this together. And when I saw you last night in the lobby, I worried about what it meant.” “I had to ask a friend for a favor,” he said, wincing. “And I got carried away acting a part.” He used his index finger to tip my chin upward. “I wouldn’t change my mind about marrying you, Inez.”

Whit released the handle and stepped closer. He placed his hands on my shoulders, bending his knees so that he could meet my eyes. His breath brushed against my mouth. “Sweetheart, I know.”

The endearment felt like a soft touch, smoothing away the knot of tension pressing against my temples. He rarely used them—only when I was inconsolable or in mortal peril. His nearness overwhelmed my senses. This towering man would be my husband—if I wanted. It seemed incredible, impossible. Excitement pulsed in my blood. I wanted Whit, but I also wanted control of my life. Saying yes to Whit meant my uncle could no longer dictate my plans, my future. It meant I could stay in Egypt.

“Proposing to you was my choice and no one else’s,” he said. “In the utter chaos of my life, you are the only thing that makes sense. You asked me what my reasons are, and I don’t know all of them yet, but I do know one important thing.” He took a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving my face, and the raw emotion lurking in their depths almost keeled me over. “You’re the one I want, Inez.” My lips parted. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Please make me the happiest man on this earth.”

“How on earth did you know what I was thinking?” “Because I know you.” He raised his brows. “Your vows?” “Right.” I cleared my throat. “Whitford Hayes, I will honor and protect you but only obey you if you’re being reasonable. Actually, you might expect me not to obey you at all. It goes against my nature, and I’d prefer to begin marriage by being honest.” His lips twitched in response. Fortified, I pressed on. “I will be faithful, and I will respect you—unless you do something unworthy of it, then God help you.” I thought Whit would laugh, but he remained silent. “In sickness and in health, I will be yours for all the days of my life.”

“Inez, I will honor and protect you and lay down my life for you. In sickness and in health, I will be by your side.” He gave me a faint smile. “And I promise I will never expect obedience from you.”

Then Whit tucked a strand of my curly hair behind my ear, and the tension seeped out of me. I remembered everything I loved about him. He made me laugh, and he was loyal. He would honor his promise to me. I was sure of it. I’d made the right decision.

He pulled me closer until I was flush with the long line of his body, and I let out a protest. He looked down at me, a sardonic curve to the blunt edge of his mouth. “I’m not going to ravish you against this column, Olivera. I just don’t want you to be seen.” My cheeks flooded with heat. “I knew that.” He winked. “Sure you did, my little innocent.”

Grinning, we made our escape to the upper floor, but all I could think about was that I walked beside my husband. We belonged to each other now.

Whit took my hand, his warm palm grazing mine, and I shivered. “Regretting me already?” “Ask me again tomorrow.” We reached my hotel door, and I stared at it dumbly, only just realizing the part that came after a wedding. Whit leaned against the frame, his gaze drifting from my face down to my toes. He’d never looked at me so thoroughly. I felt naked beneath his study. We were still holding hands, but neither of us moved to reach for the handle. “We rushed getting married,” he said softly. “We don’t have to rush tonight.”

He let go of my hand and tugged a strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing against my cheekbone. “I’ve always loved your hair.”

“And what about you? Are you ready?” He gave me a slow smile, tender and rueful. “Since Philae, Inez.”

Warmth pooled in my belly as dozens of memories with Whit flooded my mind. The moment when we had found Cleopatra’s final resting place, and we had laughed so hard tears dripped down our faces. When he dove into the Nile to save me, giving me air when the last of my breath rushed out of me. I still remember his face through the murky blur of the river, bubbles drifting between us before he pressed his mouth to mine. And I could still hear his hushed reply after I had told him how I felt in a moment of bravery. His quiet words had sent a delicious shiver down my spine. It goes both ways.

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Whit moved forward, ducked his head, and kissed me. His lips were soft against mine, moving slow but sure. He slipped his hand inside my purse dangling at my wrist, and he smiled against my mouth. Dimly, I heard the key unlocking the door. Whit tugged me inside and kicked it shut behind us. I barely heard the sound. The only thing I noticed was the way his mouth moved against mine, sweet and deep. Then he pulled me close, his left hand cradling the back of my head and his right arm banded around my waist, the bottle tight against my side.

Whit led me to the green sofa and turned me around halfway so that when we sat, he was cradling me in his arms, both my legs stretched over his

Whit scowled in mock consternation and pinched my leg and I tried to squirm away, but he held on tight, one arm around my waist, the other draped over my legs. My dress was bunched around my ankles. I’d never dreamed I’d be in this position. We had fallen into our familiar rhythm of conversation, a fast waltz with dozens of tight spins. It left me breathless and oddly confident. Whit made it easy to be myself.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. “Kiss me, Whit.” He tugged me closer, his lips brushing against mine, and then he deepened the kiss and groaned against my mouth. My fingers curled around the back of his neck as he parted my lips and lightly sucked on my tongue. I’d never been kissed so thoroughly. A year might have gone by, and I wouldn’t have known it. In one slow pull, he took the scarf off from around my neck, the fabric a soft whisper against my skin.

“Come back to me.” He splayed his hand against my lower back, while his other moved to the front of my dress, slowly working each button. My white chemise came into view, the collar held together by a silk ribbon. Whit pulled, and the knot came undone, revealing the swells of my breasts. I’d never done anything like this, and innocent terror snatched at my throat. He leaned forward, kissed me again.

My head swam from want and dizziness. I clutched at his linen shirt, bunching the fabric in my fists, desperate for something to hold on to. “Your heart is racing,” Whit murmured against my mouth. I placed my palm over his chest. “So is yours.”

Whit tucked a strand of my curly hair behind my ear. It had escaped my braid. I didn’t even think to glance in the mirror. Heaven knew what I looked like. “You’re so beautiful,” he said.

He stood and carried me to the bedroom. Gently, he laid me across the bed, and then he crawled on top of me, careful to keep his weight off. He bent his head and placed hot kisses down the length of my throat. The front of my ...

Something flashed across his face, an expression I couldn’t read. He nipped my bottom lip lightly as he cupped my breast, his thumb gliding over me through the thin cotton. Warmth pooled deep in my belly, and I gasped. He kissed me again, softly at first, but it quickly turned deeper, more desperate. Every sweep of his tongue made my heart race, my head spin.

Something soft brushed against the back of my neck. The slightest glide across sensitive skin. I kept my eyes closed, sure I was dreaming and that the minute I woke, the sensation would stop. But a strong arm was wrapped around my waist, tucking me close against a broad chest. I’d left the balcony open, and cool air drifted through the tight weave of the mosquito net wrapping around the bed like a cocoon. I opened one of my eyes, squinting at the gossamer fabric, making out the hazy paint strokes of dawn. “Buenos días,” Whit murmured against my hair.

I shivered, tucking myself closer to his warmth. Memories from last night played through my mind, one moment after another. The heat from Whit’s hands as he explored every inch of my body. His kisses that made it hard to think, made my head spin and spin. The sharp ache when he first moved inside me, and it fading, becoming something that took over my body. Indescribable. He’d been gentle but possessive. Patient, and yet I felt his urgency in the noises he made, his soft gasps against my mouth. It seemed too incredible to be real.

“Am I dreaming?” I asked in a marveling tone. “Did yesterday really happen?” “I hope so, or I have no...

I smiled against the pillow. “Were you able to sleep at all?” “Of course not.” He stretched and pulled me closer and then sneezed when my hair tickled his nose. ...

Whit laughed, his thumb drawing light circles against my ribs, before slowly drifting upward. “I can’t believe I have a wife.” He pressed a soft kiss to my ear.

I’d forgotten he could understand me when I spoke my first language. A pleasant thrill sparked across my skin. This was how it would be between us. Slow early mornings and whispered conversation. He made me laugh, and he was loyal. I trusted him. “How good is your Spanish?”

Whit rose above me, guiding me onto my back. My pulse quickened, stirring my blood. His hair fell in soft waves across his brow, a tangled mess. The broad expanse of his shoulders blocked everything else. Sleepy blue eyes gazed at me, awake but not alert. A lazy smile deepened the corners of his mouth. He bent down, his soft lips gently parting mine, sinking into the kiss with a quiet ferocity, nibbling and tasting.

Whit lifted his head, grinning, and I detected a hint of smugness. He moved against me, the long line of him cradled between my thighs, and my breath caught. His smile grew, no more hinting.

His voice was a murderous whisper. “No one is going to dictate my life, Inez.” He tugged me close, and I placed my ear over his heart. The rhythm was steady. “No one.”

“Too late,” I said cheerfully. “I’m ruined.” “Inez.” Whit groaned. “Bloody hell.”

But Whit stepped between us. “You can yell at me,” he said quietly. “You can be disappointed, feel betrayed. But you do not raise your voice at my wife. If you want someone to battle, you battle with me, Ricardo.”

“She’s my niece.” “I know,” I said. “And she’s my wife.”

I spun around and threw myself into his arms. He made a noise of surprise and kicked the door shut behind him as his arms wrapped around my waist. His scent enveloped me, fresh air and the hint of sun-warmed citrus. He smelled like a long traveling day.

Then he dropped his hand to my waist and tugged me closer. I slipped my arms around his neck and I rose onto my tiptoes and kissed him. He groaned against my mouth. He swept his tongue across mine, and I shivered, my fingers playing with the hair at his nape. Whit lifted me off my feet and slanted his mouth, deepening the kiss. When we parted, both our breaths came out in ragged huffs.

Whit pressed his forehead against mine. “Did you think of me while I was gone?” I breathed in his scent and nodded. “Did you?” “You crossed my mind.” I tugged hard on his hair, and he laughed before releasing me. He led me to the bed, the only place to sit, and we settled onto it, side by side. My feet barely reached the floor, while his long legs stretched out.

His thighs were muscular, and I gulped, remembering how he’d looked hovering above me, soft shadows flickering across his face. “Why are you blushing?” he asked, peering at me with a faint smile. “No reason,” I said quickly. “Tell me,” he c...

“You care for this girl,” my brother said in a marveling tone. “Your wife.” “If I did,” I said, “I wouldn’t have married her.”

I’d made a commitment to Inez; I’d given my word. I wouldn’t desert her, not after marrying her. I meant every word of my vows until she said otherwise.