Pyromancist SECOND EDITION: Art of Fire (7 Forbidden Arts Book 1)
Page 33
“Why the interest in old books?” she asked in an attempt to steer her thoughts away from this touch.
He gripped her chin and turned her face toward him. “Do you always talk your way out of uncomfortable situations?”
Her eyes widened at his arrogance as well as the truth of his observation. She opened her mouth but found no words of denial.
Thankfully, Lann let her off the hook by dropping the subject. For a while they looked at the books in silence, Lann waiting patiently until she had had her fill.
When she returned the gloves, he left them in a basket on the side, and said, “Come. I want to show you something.”
“There’s more?”
She followed him to a narrow staircase in the corner. At the bottom, he turned to give her a smile, a gesture that almost seemed encouraging.
“What’s up there?”
“My den.”
She couldn’t help but be curious. He led the way to the top level where a landing broad enough to walk on ran around the shelves. There was a door in the corner. As she waited for Lann to unlock it, she had the feeling of being Alice in Wonderland, about to pass through a secret door. It was so low even Kat had to bend to pass through it. It made her expect something small, maybe a tiny storeroom with more books, but it was a big, comfortable room with a slanted ceiling and a skylight through which she could see the stars. The walls were covered with wooden panels and lined with shelves full of books. It was fitted with an oversized desk, a leather sofa and a wrought iron four-poster bed. The carpet was a rich burgundy color and the bed linen deep shades of red. Cushions were scattered everywhere, even on the floor. It looked like the perfect place to read. A den, just as he had said.
She smiled. “This is cozy.”
“It’s the vault. It’s fireproof. This is where I keep the most precious books.”
She looked at the skylight. “Even with that?”
“It’s fitted with a metal shutter that closes automatically in case of a fire.”
Her eyes flittered to the bed. “You sleep here?”
“No, I don’t sleep here. Sometimes I read here, until late, but that’s what the sofa is for. The bed is for making love.”
Her insides scrambled. Her body flushed. He’d stepped up to her, standing very close to her now. If she took a deep breath, her breasts would brush against his chest.
She shook her head, making her curls tumble over her shoulders. “Why are you showing me this?”
“Why do you think?” he asked softly.
She stood very still, the silence stretching between them. Lifting a hand, he traced the curve of her breast with a finger.
Desire and fear knotted together, making a confusing mass of both her body and mind. She stepped back, escaping the touch. “I have to go.”
He tilted his head. “Maybe, but do you want to?”
“Yes,” she said, putting assertiveness into her tone.
“I don’t think you do.”
“How would you know?”
“Your breathing is shallower.” He took her hand in his, tracing the lines of her palm with a thumb. “Your palms are sweaty.” His eyes lowered to her breasts. “And there are other signs.”
She gasped in horror, because he was right. “It’s nothing but shock at your boldness.”
“Whether it’s shock or need, the pleasure I’d give you would be no less intense.”
He was dangerous, much more than the media gave him credit for. A man like Lann would chew her up and spit her out. She was no match for him. Turning on her heel, she hurried down the stairs to the exit, eager to escape into the dark, cool night. She ran into the garden until she stood face to face with the statue of Saint Teresa.
Lann followed her outside, but he did so in his own sweet time, leaving her alone for at least a minute to calm down, or maybe to sweat it out. When he stopped short of her, she took a step back.
He frowned at her. “I never force, Katherine.”
His proximity was disturbing. “I’m going home, Lann.”
He seemed to consider it for a while. “Give me one good reason why you won’t stay.”
“For starters, I’m serious about my studies. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I don’t have time for relationships or casual flings.”
He nodded. “We can work around that.”
“No,” she said firmly, “we won’t work around anything. Thank you for dinner. I’m leaving now.”
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll tell my driver to take you home.”
The fact that he gave in so easily should have had her sighing with relief. Instead it scared her.
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Afterword
Dear Reader,
Thank you very much for joining me on Joss and Clelia’s adventure. If you enjoyed the story, please consider leaving a short review on your favorite review or vendor site to help other readers discover the book. Every review makes a huge difference.
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Charmaine
Also by Charmaine Pauls
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Audiobooks
Standalone Novels
(Enemies-to-Lovers Dark Romance)
Darker Than Love
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(Dark Mafia Romance)
Diamonds in the Dust
Diamonds in the Rough
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Book Blurbs
Diamond Magnate Novels
(Dark Mafia & Forced Marriage / Revenge Romance)
Standalone Novel
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Diamonds are Forever Trilogy
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If you ask me how many times a person can die, I’ll tell you many times. As many times as a man stabs you in the stomach with betrayal and wrings out your heart with lies.
Girls like me, we live.
We don’t get a choice.
We step over the cliff and fall.
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My love is wasted like gemstones in the dust, walked over by an oblivious shoe. It takes many suffering years and layers of mountains to squeeze carbon into a precious stone. Now that I’m polished and hard like a diamond, he doesn’t get to kick me back into the dirt.
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Period.
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All that Russian aeromancist Lann Dréan wants is to enjoy a month of peace in the privately owned monastery in Santiago he is turning into a home. When an American literature student walks into his library of antique books, his holiday intentions change. The untouchable Lann is inexplicably enraptured. For all his famed control, he can’t stay away from Katherine White.
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About the Author
Charmaine Pauls was born in Bloemfontein, South Africa. She obtained a degree in Communication at the University of Potchefstroom and followed a diverse career path in journalism, public relations, advertising, communication, and brand marketing. Her writing has always been an integral part of her professions.