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“I wish you would stop being practical and just admit that you had fun and that something might have happened.” Her eyebrows rose.
“It’s not worth talking about. I’m going to the library.”
I scooped the cards off the couch and shoved them in a bag. I couldn’t stay in the apartment and deal with her prodding. I couldn’t deal with the temptation to turn on the TV again and watch the press conference, hoping for a glance of Damon. His Royal Highness, I mentally corrected myself.
“Mol, come on. Don’t leave.”
I grabbed the keys from the hook next to the door and slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. Hope you have a good day. Maybe you’ll see a job posting you like.”
She rolled her eyes and I locked the door behind me
.
The library would be quiet. No TV. No phones. And no traces of the king.
15
Damon
The lodestar was detailed. Sutcliffe had included more information than I asked for. I sat behind my desk, reading the details of Molly Washington’s life. There were posts from her social media accounts. Copies of her transcripts.
There was an abundance of facts. What was missing was the spaces in between. Her stories. Her words. The colors of her experience. This black and white piece of paper didn’t have that. So far she was like one of my abstract paintings.
According to the account, Georgan had driven her home late afternoon.
I picked up the royal line.
“Sir?”
“Have Georgan escort Miss Washington to my residence.”
Sutcliffe exhaled. “Your Highness, you have continued meetings this morning. The press conference will be highly televised. The palace has precise focus this morning.”
My eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask for your input. I asked for Miss Washington to be brought to me.”
“The palace is already surrounded by press. What if someone sees her arrive? Have you thought through this, sir?”
I could almost see his brow sweating. He hated potential scandal. He panicked over the slightest wrinkle in the royal family’s fabric. Dominic caused him countless sleepless nights.
“My business with Miss Washington is not for public consumption. I expect her to be in the royal residence when I’m finished with the prime minister. And I expect our security and your expertise to keep her off the radar.”
I hung up the phone before he could continue his veiled lecture on my personal habits. I don’t know which made him more nervous: my brother’s drinking, or my dealings at the Titan.
I didn’t care about Sutcliffe’s warnings. Fuck caution. The hunger inside me had been growing since I awoke restless in my empty bed. Every inch of me wanting and needing another taste of Molly.
Until I had her again, I wouldn’t be satisfied.
16
Molly
The library at the Conservatory was more crowded than usual. I had to hunt for a space in my favorite corner. I was a creature of habit. I liked to sit in the same area. I frowned when I saw a guy with shaggy blond hair taking up two seats at once.
I took the table next to his, casting nasty stares in his direction. I’d never seen him here before. I cracked my laptop, skimming for where I left off two days ago.
It seemed as if every time I rounded a corner of research, it only uncovered more roads for me to follow. That was my problem now. I was at a crossroads. I had several options, but I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied if I took a short-cut route. The only way to move in the right direction was if I received permission from the Literary Institute in London to examine one of the rare collections they housed. But access was so limited that they regularly denied professors, let alone PhD students.
My stomach did a little backflip as I opened the application for the London Institute and began to fill in the blanks. This opportunity could make or break my dissertation. What if I was rejected? They were infamously selective about who they let in to review the texts. I crossed my fingers when I hit send that I’d be one of the lucky few.
