“I hate you,” Dez said in a prim voice, “and I hope someone scratches your ugly black motorcycle in the parking lot.”
Beatrice snorted and threw an olive at Dez, but this time, her friend caught it and threw it back, hitting Beatrice right between the eyes. She snorted and then belly laughed at Beatrice’s shocked expression.
“Forget Librarian Barbie,” Beatrice muttered. “I’m going to go with Big League Barbie instead.”
The two friends finished lunch and made plans to meet the following weekend for brunch at one of their favorite hangouts near the beach. Beatrice hopped on her bike and returned to the Huntington to finish the translation of the mission letter she’d been working on before lunch.
As the hours passed, she fell into a steady rhythm, speeding through not one, but two complete letters before Dr. Stevens called her to the reading room.
She packed up the document she’d been working on and moved it to one of the library tables in the quietest corner of the room. Dr. Stevens had asked her to be available if the group needed help, but she didn’t really expect to be interrupted.
She was looking up a Latin noun she thought might have been misspelled when she heard the quiet footsteps. The smell of smoke reached her nose before she could look up into the green eyes that had haunted her for five years. An enigmatic smile flickered across his face before he spoke.
“I’m looking for Miss De Novo.”
Chapter Two
“Hello,
Giovanni had expected her anger, but he hadn’t expected the sheen of tears that touched her eyes when they finally met his own.
She stood, her fury palpable when she responded.
“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” she hissed before she looked around the room.
“I’ve introduced myself to everyone,” he murmured, “shaken everyone’s hand. You don’t need to worry about anyone paying us any attention.”
“So you used your mind voodoo on my boss and colleagues. Thanks.”
He smirked a little. “I didn’t want to be interrupted. Librarians can be such sticklers for rules.”
“Why are you here?”
“For you.”
Her mouth fell open before she finally sputtered back, “Well, you’re about five years too late.”
She bent over her desk and began to gather the letters she had been working on. He stood, watching her, taking in her appearance, and drinking in her welcome scent. He couldn’t stop the smile. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
She glared at him and glanced around the room.
“They won’t remember us talking?”
He waved a careless hand. “No, they’re barely registering my presence right now.”
“Good.” She walked around the table, drew back her hand, and slapped him across the face. “
She turned and picked up her materials to take back to her office, leaving Dr. Stevens in the reading room with the oblivious scholars from USC. Giovanni enjoyed the view of her walking away from him for a few moments before he followed.
“Beatrice?”
“Go to hell,” she called over her shoulder as she made her way through the halls of the institution. She had changed in subtle ways he hadn’t been able to detect in photographs. Her figure was fuller, and she carried herself with a grace and confidence she hadn’t known five years before. Her walk was more assured, and the almost imperceptible lines that touched her face only added to the depth of her dramatic features.
She was absolutely stunning. And really,
Her scent was the same, a sweet melange of honeysuckle and lemon that made his fangs descend when he thought of the single taste of her blood he’d enjoyed years before.
“Beatrice,” he called again. “I’ve already told Dr. Stevens you’ll be helping me on my project while I’m doing my research here.”
She whirled around at her office door. “Well, you can just use that voodoo to change her mind then, can’t you?”
He came to stand in front of her and took a deep breath, staring at her mouth, which was pursed in displeasure. “I could.” He shrugged. “But I won’t.”
Beatrice looked like she wanted to slap him again, but her hands were full of documents and books, so he reached behind her and opened her door, scenting her as he leaned over her shoulder.
“You still smell like honeysuckle,” he murmured before she shoved him aside so she could enter the office.
“Go away,” she said. “I don’t want to see you.”
He closed the door and leaned against it. “Well, that’s certainly understandable.”
“Why?” she asked again as she put her work away. “Why are you here? Why now?”
Giovanni couldn’t help but smile at her, despite her anger. He had to resist the urge to walk across the room and kiss her senseless; he had a feeling bodily injury would result. “I already told you. I’m here for you.”
She paused in her work, and he could hear her heart begin to race, but her angry expression did not waver.
“Well, you can’t have me. So what else are you here for?”
He let her entertain the notion she was unavailable for the time being. “I’m doing some work for a client who’s looking for a journal that was carried to the new world in one of Father Junipero Serra’s first missionary journeys in California.” He smiled innocently when she looked up in shock. “I was told there was a very bright librarian here who could help me translate some of the Spanish and Latin correspondence from the era.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”
“She came very highly recommended by a mutual friend,” he said with a wink.
“Remind me to call Carwyn and bitch at him later.”
“Do I hear you’re riding a motorcycle now?” He looked her up and down as she grabbed her backpack and helmet, staring at her legs in an obvious manner. “That, I really need to see,
He smirked when he realized he had rendered her speechless again.
“I’m leaving now,” she finally said.
He glanced at the clock above her desk. “Look at the time. I should finish up my meeting with Dr. Stevens before I go. After all, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Beatrice shook her head. “You bastard,” she muttered through a clenched jaw.
He held open the door, but his arm shot out when she tried to walk past him. His hand curled around her waist, and he felt the familiar frisson of electricity run between them when they touched for the first time in five years. His temperature rose when he leaned over and murmured in her ear.
“I’m back, Beatrice. I’m back for
She turned her head to meet his green eyes and her mouth was only a breath away.
“What if I ask you to go?” she whispered. “Are you just going to hang around and be a nuisance forever?”
He paused, the words almost catching in his throat. “If you ever had any feelings for me, give me a chance. Please.”
She didn’t respond, pushing his arm away from her body before she rushed down the hall. He heard her pass through the reading room to say goodnight to her boss before she exited out the glass doors. When she left the
