Desolation Road (Torpedo Ink 4) - Page 4

After seeing the boy out, she turned and looked straight at him. He could never quite interpret the expression on her face. He was always careful not to touch her for too long. He didn’t want to read her thoughts. He was enjoying their dance around each other too much for that. She was fascinated, but nervous—anxious even, which he found interesting as well. She was always so calm with everyone else. She couldn’t know he was in a club, so it wasn’t that.

She came toward him, flowing across the room. She was breathtaking. Beautiful. All woman wrapped up in that sweet package. Her name was Scarlet, and he loved that name. It said Scarlet Foley on her nameplate, and she’d finally introduced herself formally to him three and a half weeks earlier. It had taken quite some time before she actually spoke to him. She’d smile, but she didn’t come near him at first. Even now, she was extremely reserved with him.

“You’ve been here for hours. Are you doing research again? I might be able to help you,” she offered. “Although we’re closing soon.”

He glanced around. The library was empty. It was definitely near closing time. He decided to take a chance. “I stayed late on the off chance you’d have time to have dinner with me. Nothing fancy, just across the street there.” He indicated the more upscale restaurant facing the front of the library.

He liked the location of the library. It was on a block that was also quieter than most of the town’s streets. Foliage was abundant, in fact the front and sides of the library were covered in ivy so that it appeared to drip down the brick walls and fall like a waterfall over the second story to the first. Everything about the place proclaimed it was cool and inviting.

Scarlet stood very still, her large green eyes behind her glasses moving over his face slowly. For a moment she looked scared. Not scared exactly. That wasn’t the right word. Leery, maybe. Assessing the risk? He wasn’t certain but she wasn’t jumping at his invitation. She glanced over her shoulder toward the restaurant. Absinthe stayed silent, letting her make up her mind. He needed her to feel safe with him—and he wanted her to want to spend time with him the way he wanted to spend it with her, just the two of them. Walking across the street with her vehicle close by was a good start.

“I think that sounds fun,” she said finally. Almost reluctantly.

He could hear lies. She wasn’t lying, but there was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. For the millionth time, he glanced at her hand to see if she was wearing a wedding ring. She wasn’t. There was no faint tan line that might indicate she’d worn one. She had very pale skin. A dusting of freckles was across her nose, spreading out just a bit, very faint, but he had the unexpected urge to kiss each one.

“I’ll wait here for you while you close up and we can walk over together,” he said. He made it a statement. She more than likely would want him to go out the door first. She didn’t walk outside with anyone, even if one of the teens stayed late. Not one time in the six weeks he’d been coming. She always stood at the door for a long period of time, scanning the entire block, the buildings and even the rooftops.

Her small white teeth caught at her lower lip for a moment and his heart nearly stopped. Why he found that sexy, he had no idea, but he did. His body stirred, and heat rushed through his veins like a drug. Just being close to her was addicting. Her eyes did that reluctant drop, as if she couldn’t help herself. He fucking loved that. For just one moment her gaze rested on the bulge at the front of his jeans and he hardened even more. She turned red and averted her eyes. He resisted grinning.

“I have a few things to do. You could grab us a table and I’ll meet you there.”

Yeah. She didn’t want to be seen with anyone. That was a red flag. He held up his cell phone. “I’ll text them to hold us a table. I scoped it out earlier and they have a few tables for two. They’re kind of in the shadows, but if you’d rather sit on the main floor …”

“No, I think a table for two sounds excellent.”

She jumped at that. A little too fast. She didn’t want to be seen with him. Fuck.

“I’ll make us a reservation and you finish up.”

She hesitated again, but then turned away with a little nod. He watched her go back to her desk. He’d already made the reservation. If she’d said no, he simply would have canceled it. He kept an eye on her while he made a show of writing down a few facts from the book he had pulled out to reference. Truthfully, he didn’t need to write anything down. He could read and absorb over twenty thousand words per minute. He retained everything he saw or read. He could compel truth and make suggestions that others would follow. He had highly developed gifts. Some were a curse, no matter what others thought. Most were. Or maybe it was how he’d had to use them.

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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