construction in college?” She set aside the quilt and reached for her coffee.
Good. He had her relaxing bit by bit.”Is there something wrong with that?”
She paused midsip.”Of course not. I just … Okay, I made assumptions about your college years.”
“I didn’t have time for the frat-boy scene, princess.” He’d worked his ass off, and considered the time well spent as it gave him real-world experience once he’d graduated.”So I flipped houses, made investments then took things to another level by underwriting renovations of historic manor homes and castles. I made more investments.” He shrugged.”And here I am.”
“What about your family’s influence in world politics? What about your inheritance?”
Some of the women in his life had been sorely disappointed to hear about his lack of interest in being a part of the political world his family inhabited.”What about it?”
“Do you just leave the money sitting around?”
“Hell, no. I invest it. I expect to leave more for my kids.”
“You want children?” She averted her eyes, setting her mug down.
“Damn straight, I do. A half dozen or so.”
She pushed to her feet abruptly, backing away, nearly stumbling over her bare feet. Eloisa grabbed the chair for balance.”I need to finish getting ready for work.”
What the hell had caused her quick turnaround? He’d been sure he was making headway and suddenly she was checking her watch, shoving on her shoes and scooping up her purse.
Maybe he’d hit a snag there by pushing too hard, too fast. But he wasn’t one to admit defeat. It was all about building on the progress he’d made, one brick at a time. He watched her rush around the town house, gathering herself on her way out the door. And as she turned to wave goodbye, he realized.
She’d put on lip gloss.
He thought back to the evening before. She’d been stunning, silhouetted against the waterside, wind rippling her dress and lifting her hair. She had an unstated style and innate grace that proclaimed her timeless beauty regardless of what she wore.
And he was damn sure she hadn’t worn makeup last night or a year ago. Yet for some reason, she’d slicked on gloss today. Sure, it was a minor detail, but he found himself curious about every detail surrounding the woman he’d married.
They’d made a decent start in getting to know each other better today. Although they’d mostly talked about his job. And now that he thought about it, he didn’t know much about her career since she’d transitioned from being a student.
If he wanted to get closer to Eloisa, perhaps it was time to learn a little more about her workplace.
Six
Eloisa perched on the second-to-top step of the rolling ladder, replacing two copies of The Scarlet Letter. They’d been returned by a couple of high schoolers who’d lost their classroom edition and had to check it out from the library in a panic before the test. And while work usually calmed her, channeling peace through the quiet and rows of books … Today the familiar environment fell short of its normally calming effect.
She placed the blame squarely on her husband. Having Jonah show up in her life again so unexpectedly was unsettling on too many levels. No wonder she was having trouble finding her footing. She’d contacted her attorney and it appeared Jonah’s claim was correct. The divorce hadn’t gone through after all. Her lawyer had received the paperwork just this morning, although he vowed he had no idea how Jonah had learned of her Medina roots.
The lawyer had gone on to reassure her he would look into it further. In fact, he planned to go straight to the source and speak with her father and brothers directly. If they didn’t have the information, they would need to be warned, as well.
She aligned the books and started back down the ladder. A hand clamped her calf. Gasping, she grabbed the railings to keep from pitching over backward. She looked down fast—
“Jonah,” she whispered, her world righting and narrowing to just him,”you scared the hell out of me.”
“Sorry about that. Wouldn’t want you to fall.” He kept his hand on her leg.
Eloisa continued down, his hand naturally sliding up for an inch, and another. Her heart triple-timed as she wondered how long he would keep up this game.
She descended another step.
His hand fell away. The heat of his palm remained.
Soft chitchat sounded from a couple of rows over, the air conditioner nearly as loud as the conversation. Otherwise, this section of the library was pretty much deserted this morning.
Eloisa gripped a shelf since the floor felt a little wobbly.”What are you doing here?”
“I came to take you out. Unless you have to do something with your sister’s wedding plans, in which case, I’m here to supply lunch.” He gripped the shelf just beside her, his body blocking the rest of the row from sight and creating a quiet—intimate—haven.
A lunch date? God, that sounded fun and wonderful and more than a little impulsively romantic. So unwise if she wanted to keep her balance while finding out what made Jonah Landis tick.”I already bought a sandwich on my way in.”
“Okay, then. Another time.” He looked past her, then over his shoulder, a broad shoulder mouthwateringly encased in his black polo shirt.”Mind if I have a tour of the place before I leave?”
Her mouth went dry at the thought of more time with him. She eyed the water fountain.”It’s a public library. As in open. To the public. Like you.”
He traced down the binding of a misplaced Dickens book.”I was hoping for my own personal tour guide. I’m partial to sexy brunette librarians who wear their long hair slicked back in a ponytail. And if she had exotic brown eyes with—”
“I get the picture, you flirt.” She held up her hand and stifled a laugh.”You want a tour?” She pulled A Tale of Two Cities from the shelf and tucked it under her arm.”Of a library?”
“I want a tour of your library. You saw my workplace in Spain.” He propped a foot on the bottom step of the ladder.”Now I want to see yours.”
Could he really be serious here? Could he perhaps, like her, need some additional insights in order to put the past behind him? The whole flirtation could just be his cover for a deeper confusion like she felt.
And she was probably overanalyzing. Didn’t men say things were a lot simpler for them?
Regardless, what harm could there be in showing him around the library? She couldn’t think of anywhere safer than here. Now where to start?
If she took him downstairs to the reception area, she would face questions later from the rest of the staff. Better to go farther into the stacks.
She mentally clicked through other areas to avoid. A book-group discussion. A local artist in residence hanging her work. Eloisa discussed
