came toward her and stopped a short pace away. “Elise,” he said. His voice was simultaneously honey and fire.
Elise glanced at Delia for help, but Delia was talking to two of Britt Hansen’s children as she began the process of checking out their books. Elise’s gaze was drawn back to the professor.
He was dressed impeccably in light gray pants and a charcoal blazer with a stylish tie brightening his white shirt. His hair was brushed perfectly into place, full and thick and wavy, the threads of silver shining splendidly among the dark. His skin was still nicely tanned, the lines on his face lending a distinguished aura of wisdom and experience.
She smiled tightly. “I’m—I’m sorry I’m late again. Things are still, well...”
“I stopped by the room with the leak earlier. It looks as if everything is coming along nicely there at least.”
Elise was glad to have something to talk about. “Ahead of schedule, actually. The men weren’t supposed to come until next week.”
“Surely that’s good news.”
“Oh, yes! Definitely! At the moment I’ll take anything that looks like good news. It’s been such a...” She could hear herself continue to blather on about the problems she had faced over the past few days. Her words seemed to go on and on, and she couldn’t make them stop.
When there was the slightest pause in her monologue, he broke in...which only heightened Elise’s embarrassment at her behavior. She never talked endlessly like that! If there was one person in Tyler in control of her tongue, she was it! Still, he’d almost had to physically restrain her in order to insert a word.
“I think we can do it,” he said simply, delivering his verdict without aggrandizement.
Elise blinked. At first her mind didn’t register what he’d said. “Do what?” she asked.
His smile returned. “The library. It’s going to take some work. We’ll have to go over everything to see exactly what you need and what you don’t need. See where we can cut corners. But I don’t see why it can’t be done.”
For the moment Elise forgot everything but her joy at his words. Happiness lighted her eyes and her face, making them glow. “You’re willing to try?” she exclaimed.
“If you are,” he agreed.
She would put in as many hours as were needed. Exist on two hours of sleep each night. Do whatever was necessary to...
“Elise?” The voice calling her name was different. Male, but definitely not belonging to Robert Fairmont.
Elise turned to see Joe Santori standing beside them, dust from the gypsum board he had been using to repair the ceiling clinging to his skin and clothing even though it was evident he’d tried to brush himself off. Elise felt as if she had been shaken from a dream again, only this time a good one. “Yes, Joe?” she asked. “Is there a problem?”
Joe shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He was a large man, well-built, with curly black hair and a quiet pride in his work. “Well, yes. We’ve hit a little snag.” He hesitated. “Water’s starting to show up again. Not much,” he was quick to add when he saw Elise blanch, “just a few drops. But the quicker we get Mike McNamara back out here, the better it will be. We sure can’t close her up as it is.”
Elise stood very still, then she felt herself start to sway. The soft background noises in the library receded into a hollow hum and Joe’s face blurred. Over a sudden tightness in her throat, she managed to say, “Would—would you mind calling him, Joe? Right now...I just can’t...” Fingers reached out to steady her, pulling her against a solid strength.
Joe stepped forward in concern, guilt flashing over his features.
Elise wanted to tell him that everything was all right, that what was happening wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, except possibly her own. She had been pushing too hard and not eating properly, and now she was paying the price. Not that she wouldn’t mind a temporary respite from her problems. To get completely away, to have a few moments of unadulterated peace...that seemed the most wonderful bliss. Though she felt bad when she saw Joe’s worried look. And when she turned to see that it was Robert Fairmont she leaned against so contentedly, she felt even worse.
She longed for unconsciousness, but it never came... which in a rather pathetic sort of way was funny. She was too responsible even to faint properly!
With her thoughts still slightly fuzzy, she met the gaze of the architect. In his eyes she saw concern, but also something else: his recognition that a part of her wanted to laugh! Surprise made him blink, then answering amusement sparked in his unusual eyes.
A smile tugged at Elise’s lips and, unable to help herself, she started to giggle, which caused Joe to completely misread the situation. Thinking that she was crying, he called out to Delia, who, when she saw that Elise looked near to collapse, abandoned the circulation desk and came running toward them. A few patrons rushed over as well.
“Does she need a doctor?” someone asked.
“Is it a heart attack?” someone else queried.
“Oh, my God!” Delia cried.
“Water started to drip from the ceiling again,” Joe explained to the audience at large. “I had to tell her.”
Elise choked. “Joe, it’s okay. I just forgot to eat lunch, that’s all.” Then her face crumpled into laughter again, which the crowd mistook for pain. The whole situation was just too much! One misunderstanding followed another.
A hand came out to shield her face, turning it in to the fine woolen material of a blazer. “I think she just needs some time alone,” Robert Fairmont said quietly but with dignified authority.
Pauline rushed up, called away from the children by someone who had witnessed the scene. Her round face was pallid, full of fear. “What’s happened?” she demanded. “What’s wrong? Elise?”
Robert swept Elise fully into his arms. She kept her face buried against his shoulder. Suddenly she wanted to cry. Laughter had evolved into tears.
“I’m taking her home. She needs to rest,” he said. He turned to Joe Santori. “Why don’t you call her later this afternoon to let her know what the plumber says. I’m sure she’ll want to know.” Joe nodded agreement.
Elise took a series of unsteady breaths as she felt herself being transported through the front door and onto the porch, then along the sidewalk to the line of parking slots that angled off the street. She peeked around the architect’s shoulder and saw that the little group of concerned people had followed them onto the porch. They watched as he placed her feet on the ground and dug in his pocket for the keys to a dark blue Mercedes.
He opened the door and bent to lift her inside, but she stopped him.
“I can get in myself,” she said.
He pulled back to look at her. “Are you sure?” he asked.
She nodded wordlessly.
He stood back, ready to lend assistance if needed. But it wasn’t needed...not this time. While crossing to the driver’s side, he waved
