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Heart racing, British licked her lips. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why do you have me trapped in the library?”
Donovan turned his body to the right and allowed his biceps to point toward the door. “By all means,” he teased, licking his bottom lip, “you’re free to go, Ms. B.”
Maybe it was the pounding in her ears or the distracting way his bulging bicep appeared, but she stayed. “How am I teasing you?”
“First, coming to my room via the balcony last night.”
“Yeah...well,” British huffed, “it’s not like I could knock on your door and risk one of the girls seeing me and get the wrong idea.”
“What idea would that be?”
To create space between them, British folded her arms across her chest. “Like I said last night, I didn’t want to go to sleep without doing what I wanted to do.”
“Which was to kiss me?” Donovan dropped his arm and faced her. “And your point of traipsing into the dining room with your hair like this was?” He reached out and touched a tendril that must have come loose.
British pushed his hand away from her face. The touch sent a shiver down her spine. “Like what?”
“The ole librarian bun at the top of your head.”
She blinked blindly.
Donovan’s eyes widened. “You don’t know about the fantasies men have.”
“Considering the librarians I’ve met...” British began with a deep sigh.
“There was a librarian in college and, if it weren’t for her, I probably would never have studied.” Donovan closed his eyes long enough for a strange jealous feeling to wash over British. She pushed at Donovan’s chest, ignoring the hard muscles of his pecs. His eyes opened and his hand caught her fingertips. She didn’t expect to shiver when he brought them to his lips for a soft kiss. “Aw, wait, you can’t get mad at me for remembering Ms. Fredd.”
“I’m not mad at a thing,” British said calmly. Her insides screamed. “I just don’t want anyone walking in on us.”
“That’s good to know.” Donovan dropped his left hand and pushed the stray hair behind British’s ear.
“What?”
“That you’re at least thinking of me and you as an us.” He slid his index finger along the slop of her nose.
“Donovan, I...” Again she couldn’t find the right words.
“We’ll take things slow, British,” Donovan said. “And, fortunately for us, we’ll be all alone after Thanksgiving.”
Slow? Why the hell would she want something slow with Donovan? No, she wanted him fast, hard and sweaty. The back of British’s throat went dry. Every image about the two of them together, in each crevice of this hotel, flashed through her mind like 8 mm film.
“Hey, we’re back!” Stephanie yelled, coming through the front door. “Mr. D, we even saved you money.”
And my hide, British thought to herself. Donovan was in Southwood for one reason only: to get away from his life down south. This made him a perfect choice for her. Eventually he was going to go home and to his life. That’s what she wanted. Right?
* * *
Later on that evening, Donovan double-checked his garnet-and-gold tie in the mirror behind the vacated concierge’s desk. “Don’t act like this is your first meal with her, man,” he told himself, “other people will be there.”
The palms of his hands sweated. His heart raced with anticipation of seeing British again. He rolled his eyes, chiding himself for being so juvenile. Just because he hadn’t seen her since breakfast didn’t mean he needed to be so nervous. Except he was. Donovan had thrown down the gauntlet. He’d made his intentions clear. Right?
Hell, since when did he start doubting himself?
A set of twinkle lights suddenly lit up the hallway, followed by a surprised curse. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”
“You okay, Mrs. Fitzhugh?” Donovan made his way down the hall to where the housekeeper tried to keep the elevator door open with her foot since her hands were filled with towels. The fresh, clean scent intoxicated him. While the condo in Miami was immaculate, Donovan’s housekeeper put everything away herself, including his laundry and dry cleaning. He missed the warm fabric-softener smell from summers with his grandmother. God, when was the last time he’d smelled that scent? Maybe when he was twelve?
“I forgot how smart those girls were,” she breathed. “One of them said they wanted to set up a mirror or something so they didn’t crash into me.”
