“I haven’t done a single thing to you.” He huffed and put a palm to his chest. “And you’re threateningmewith violence!”
“You were—you were thethingin the book that dragged me here, aren’t you?” She glared at him. “The shadow tentacle things. You abducted me.”
“I was—” He paused, mid-word. “Fine. Yes. But I was trying to simply make an effective use of time, that’s all. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
“Youchokedme.” She tightened the grip on the book.
“I didn’t want you to panic or start crying. I was trying to make things easier on you. I had your best interests in mind.” He straightened himself up and tugged on the bottom of his suit coat.
“So you choked me, and then abducted me, and youstilldon’t think I have a right to threaten you with violence?” Why was she wasting her time arguing with this thinganyway?
And he still hadn’t explained what he meant by the fact that he could literallyreadher thoughts.
“Well, Iwouldexplain how I can read your thoughts, but you haven’t held still long enough to give me the opportunity, you silly thing.” He walked toward her. “But I feel as though we’ve gotten off on the wrong…page.” He grinned, a flash of white teeth that for a second she swore were just a bit too sharp.
“Foot.” She took a step back. He could read her damn thoughts. Fuck.Fuck.“Stay away from me, whatever you are!”
“Mm, whatever.” He took a step toward her. “What I am will sound impossible to you. Mad, even.”
“I was eaten by a book at work today. I think I’m ready for a little lunacy to make sense.” She took a step back and wound up smacking into a bookshelf. A few of the volumes tumbled off and hit the floor at her feet. “And if I was eaten by a book, does that mean…I’m inside of a book?”
“More or less. I suppose you could think of it that way.” He was still smiling, clearly enjoying watching her put it all together. “Did I get a clever one? Oh, I hope I got a clever one this time.”
This time?Shaking her head, she tried to piece together what was happening as fast as she could. She stared at him. “I’m officially dreaming. I have to be. I’m stuck in a book and you’re the villain.” God, her dreams were such shit sometimes. She gestured up to the stained glass window of Dorian Gray with a jerk of her head. “Which one are you supposed to be?”
“I hate to tell you that unfortunately, all this is very real. But I will answer your question—which villain am I? Oh, my sweet Sasha…” The man closed the distance between them, placing his hand on the shelf close to her head, caging her in. He leaned in, just a little closer, until she could feel his warm breath wash against her ear.
The whispered words sent a shiver down her spine.
“All of them.”
CHAPTER THREE
Sidney was trying very, very hard not to have the very first full-on, knock-down, drag-out panic attack of her life. She was standing with her back squished up to the end of a bookcase, staring at a man who was, to his credit, very politely standing some fifteen feet away from her with a gentle and apologetic smile on his face.
One minute she’d been standing in her hotel room. The next minute, an impossibleweird-assbook had opened up, and—and then a hand, and now…she was here.
In an enormous library. The sun was shining through stained-glass windows at the end of each row, the bright light glinting off the polished blond wood bookcases that lined the space in rows.
The floor was a white and black marble, and the whole space felt airy and warm and open. Cozy, inviting, and…safe.
Which was hysterical, given the situation.
It was probably part of the reason she hadn’t launched into total hysterics now that her whole concept of reality had just beenentirely fucked.
The other part of the reason might have had something to dowith the fact that the man standing in front of her was the single most handsome thing she had ever seen in her goddamnlife.
He was gorgeous. There was no way around it.
Perfect jaw. Perfect smile. Tall, broad-shouldered, fit. He had sandy-blond hair that fell around his face in just the slightest of waves. It gave him a look that was halfway between a clothes model and a cherub. His eyes were a light hazel that kind of reminded her of her own, a color that looked almost amber-gold in the warm light of the library.
He was dressed in a white suit, white vest, white tie, and black shirt. A yellow rose was tucked into his lapel.
The smile on his face was stuck halfway between empathy for her suffering and a clear apology for having something to do with it. “Are you all right, Miss Lancaster?”
God, and his voice was like hot cocoa on a cold day. Just smooth and tenor andperfect.Sidney had no shortage of lovers in her life, but this one was setting new standards for what she considered her type of man. She couldn’t help but stare.
“I—I deeply apologize.” He placed a hand to his chest and bowed his head. “I understand that this is all unsettling and confusing, and that to someone from your world, this is very upsetting.”
