“No.”
He nodded, undeterred, and took his seat.
Jamie stayed beside me the entire day and during our tour of a newly discovered Roman burial site, he scooped me up right before I tripped over a shallow grave. As he carried me across a stretch of crumbled stone slabs to the grassy field beyond, he smiled down at me with an expression of deep affection.
“Thank you,” I said. “But I can walk.”
“Forgiven me yet?” he asked. His bright blue eyes matched the sky, and my breath caught.
“No.”
“But I just saved your life,” he protested. The feigned outrage made me smile.
“At most, you saved me from a twisted ankle,” I said.
“You’re a tough one, Molly Graham,” he said.
It was then that I wanted to tell him I wasn’t tough. Quite the opposite. I used to be tough, before he’d softened me. Heck, my entire life had crumbled when my ex had left me, yet I’d managed to salvage the pieces and rebuild. I was happy. Then Jamie came along and dared me to believe in love, and I’d gone all in—that one decision had made me as fragile as a cobweb that he could rend again just as easily. I didn’t think I’d survive it twice.
So I said nothing. He put me down, gently setting me on my feet. His hand lingered on my back until I was steady. Elise seemed particularly annoyed by his attention to me. I couldn’t fault her; I’d feel the same if the situation was reversed.
Jamie became my overgrown shadow. While getting a pint after the tour of the ruins at a local pub, he was by my side. He and Tristan broke into song, singing a very bad rendition of “Jessie’s Girl” that made Bri and me cringe, even as we laughed along with them. Jamie’s blue eyes glinted with mischief and his gaze lingered on me, making me feel as if he really liked me just as I was. His crooked grin made my pulse flutter as if I were coming back to life from a long sleep.
Oh, I wanted to forgive him the lies. I did. But I just kept thinking that if he could lie to me about who he was, what else could he lie about? Was I willing to risk my heart and trust him again? No.
Jamie sat beside me at dinner in the mini-castle that evening and while I made an effort to speak with everyone around me, I had a terrible time concentrating on the flow of the conversation when all of my senses seemed to be wrapped up in him.
I was consumed by the warmth he gave off, the scent of bergamot and amber that surrounded him, the slash of white teeth when he smiled, the column of his throat when he swallowed, and the way he shifted in his seat as if trying to get closer to me. It was too much! I was losing my ability to maintain any distance. In fact, I just wanted to climb onto his lap and kiss him until everything was back to the way it had been between us in New York, but that hadn’t been real. It had been a whirlwind fantasy based on a lie. There was simply no going back or was there?
“Jamie, I heard that you were recently teaching in New York, is that true?” Elise, the Canadian librarian who wanted to bag herself a viscount, asked from across the table.
“Yes,” he said. He glanced at me as if worried about my reaction. “I was a guest lecturer for half a semester at Columbia.”
The prime rib I’d been chewing turned to ash in my mouth. Jamie was a professor? I reached for my wine, trying swallow down my surprise and hurt. Although, really, what was one more lie?
“A guest lecturer?” Elise persisted. “On what subject?”
“Folklore,” he said.
Elise’s eyes narrowed and she frowned. Her voice was skeptical when she asked, “As in fairy tales?”
Jamie released a barely discernable sigh. “Yes. That, but also oral narratives, legends, and myths.”
I stared at him hard. Jamie was a guest lecturer at a top university, which meant he likely had a doctorate already. And it explained the copy of Beauty and the Beast he’d given me. It was, after all, his subject of expertise.
I blinked and took a steadying breath. “So, not a student then?” Jamie turned toward me at my caustic tone.
“No. Sorry.” He inched back as if I might pitch my wine into his face for yet another lie he’d told.
I didn’t. Instead, I downed the entire glass, thinking there was no way I could ever forgive him as more lies kept bubbling to the surface—but I was also never going to get over him. Damn it.
After dinner, I excused myself from joining Bri and Tristan for a walk in the garden. It had been a full day of activities and mixed emotions. All I wanted to do was take a hot shower and climb into bed with my book. When I excused myself for the night, Jamie stood to escort me even though by now I knew the way.
“Thank you, but I can manage,” I said.
He ignored me and we climbed the stairs together. I was too tired to make a fuss.
“May I ask a favor of you?”
I gave him a side-eye. “Favor?” That was pretty nervy. I wondered if it was his station in life that allowed him to ask me for a favor after he’d just been outed in another lie. One more reason why he and I would never suit. I couldn’t comprehend that sort of audacity.
“As a friend,” he clarified.
“I’m listening,” I said as I prepared to shoot him down.
He smiled. Of course, he did. He was probably used to always getting his way.
“Our librarian, Mrs. Hodges, recently retired, and my grandfather is healthy enough now to oversee hiring her replacement. I was wondering if you’d use your expertise to look through the applications we’ve received so far and help me find someone suitable.”
Well, this was going to be easy to refuse. “I’m not a human resources person,” I said.
“No, but you know books and collections,” he said. We paused outside my door. “Please.”
I pursed my lips as I considered. “Does this mean I get to look at the materials in the library to my heart’s content?”
He leaned against the wall and his hair fell over his forehead in that familiar way and I melted just a teeny bit on the inside. “Of course.”
“Then I’m happy to do it,” I said. “Tomorrow morning?”
“Perfect.” He met my gaze, his bright blue eyes blazing hot. I had to look away.
It was like staring directly into the sun. I hurried into my room and shut the door before I did something stupid like tackle him to the ground and kiss him.
The next morning, after I changed my outfit six times, I met Jamie at the entrance to the library. It had been a toss up whether to look sexy and try to torture him or dowdy to shut him down. Given that I wanted a respectful professional relationship between us for the museum’s sake, I went with dowdy and chose a loose beige blouse that buttoned up to to my throat and a pair of baggy navy linen pants that drooped in the behind. Both pieces were more for comfort than fashion. I slipped out of my room before Bri saw me or I suspected she would have lit my clothes on fire, while I was still wearing them if need be, and forced me to change.
The last time I’d been in the library I’d just swooned—that still boggled me—and I hadn’t appreciated how big and beautiful the space was. Stacks of leather-bound gilt-edged books lined the room on floor-to-ceiling shelves, while several free-standing bookcases housed newer volumes. This was no small library. At a guess, I’d say there were at least twenty-thousand volumes that I could see, and I knew there was a vault as well. The book lover in me felt a bit undone.