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She said nothing as she continued on, slower this time. Finally they came to the room she’d mentioned, which wasn’t more than a walk-in closet in size. Her light darted around, and she gasped. His eyes followed the beam and landed on a little yellow chair; a book lay open, cover up to hold the page. Zara turned and handed him the kitten.
“I used to sneak in here to read.” She moved forward and picked up the book, flipping it over in her hand. With a laugh, she laid it back down. “This was one of my favorites.”
Braden crossed the space and glanced down to the book. He couldn’t see the title, but the embracing couple on the cover told him all he needed to know.
“You read romance as a kid?”
“I was a teenager and curious,” she said. Even in the dim light he could see her chin pop up a notch. “Maybe I wanted to know what all that love stuff was about, because when I was sixteen I thought I’d found love. Turns out I found a guy who’d made a bet with his buddies on who would take my virginity.”
That entire statement told him more about her than she’d ever willingly reveal. She was bitter, she’d been used. She was raised by parents who were never affectionate, and other than her grandmother, she didn’t have anyone she could depend on in her life.
Coming from a large Irish family, Braden had no clue what that felt like. Granted he’d never fallen in love, but he believed it existed. He’d witnessed it firsthand from his parents. While he’d had so many levels of love, Zara had emptiness.
“So you would sneak in here and read dirty books?” he asked.
“They weren’t dirty. They were sweet, and now that I know how life really is, I see why they’re labeled as fiction.”
Yeah. Definitely bitter.
He scanned the rest of the area. There were a few empty shelves along one wall, a door on the other and absolutely nothing of use for him in here. Except for the bundles of information he’d just gathered on Zara.
“That concludes the tour,” she stated. “Not as exciting as you thought, right?”
Braden shifted the kitten to his other arm, careful not to wake him. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I got to cop a feel. I wouldn’t call this venture a total loss.”
For a second she said nothing, then she reached out and smacked his shoulder. “You’re a smart-ass.”
Braden wanted to see that smile she offered. He craved it. Knowing he pulled her from those past thoughts with his snarky comment and put her in the here and now with a laugh was exactly his intent.
“Why don’t you show me the other hidden rooms, and I’ll see what other smooth moves I can come up with?” he suggested, which earned him a light right to the face. Squinting, he shielded his eyes with his free hand. “All right, I promise to be on my best behavior.”
Turning away, Zara pushed open the door to the kitchen. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she muttered.
* * *
Nothing. He’d not found a damn thing that indicated where the scrolls were. He didn’t even know if they were all together at this point. At one time there were nine, stored in the infamous trunk that now sat in his office as if to mock him on a daily basis. They could be long gone, but Braden refused to give into that line of thinking, because if they were gone, he had absolutely nowhere to look. They had to be here.
Before they’d headed back up to the bedroom, Zara had stepped out the back door and plucked some cheese and fruit out of the snow. She pulled a loaf of bread from the cabinet and got a few bottles of water.
Now they were sitting in the floor in front of the fire having a gourmet lunch while the kitten roamed around the room. Occasionally he would come back, rub against Zara as if to make sure she was still there, then he’d roam a little more.
“Is he going to pee on my things?” she asked, popping a grape into her mouth.
Braden shrugged. “Maybe, but I found a box in your kitchen and brought it up. Put a towel or something over there and he’ll be very happy. Cats love boxes.”
“Really?”
Nodding, he tore off another hunk of cheese. “Trust me on this. Granted, he’s still a kitten, so he’ll stick close to us, or you as the case may be, but once he gets comfortable here, that box will be his new home.”
Zara stared as the kitten snuck beneath her bed. “I’d rather he find a new home.”
“Aww, now don’t be like that with your new best friend.”
By the time they’d devoured the assortment, Zara leaned back and stretched her arms high above her head, pulling her sweatshirt up just enough to draw his gaze down to her creamy skin and the slight roll over the band of her pants.
