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“Is ‘very impressive’ the title of the book?” she asked slyly.
He laughed. “No, it is not.” He was standing very close to her, and their bodies were almost touching. “But it is what I think of the goddess before me.”
The heat of his gaze made her believe his words, and at that moment, she felt like a goddess, powerful and seductive. She turned back to the bookshelf, pretending she was still looking for what to read, and her shoulder brushed his chest.
He reached past her and removed a book from a row then gave it to her. “I hope this will satisfy you.”
Elizabeth glanced down at the book, which was a collection of poems, and grinned. She looked back up at him and shook her head. “I am afraid it will not, for I have read it before.” She had read that particular volume thrice, but she was glad he chose a book that she liked.
He pulled out another poetry book and offered it to her, and she shook her head again. “I am sure you have not read the next book I have in mind,” he said, reaching for another one. Elizabeth laughed when she saw it, and he groaned. “You have read it, too?”
“Yes.” She laughed again.
“Wait here. I believe I saw something earlier that you might like.” He smiled and walked around to the other bookshelf.
Elizabeth swallowed, feeling excitement that she had never felt before and might never feel again once the masquerade was over. Something new was happening to her, and she was going to allow herself to revel in it.
He returned with a new book, and when he stopped in front of her, she felt the heat from his body calling to the most feminine aspects of her being. He took her hand and placed the book on her palm. Elizabeth felt her heart beat faster when she read the title:The Love and Battles of a Goddess Divine.
“This, I have not read, Sir,” she murmured.
He leaned close. “That pleases me greatly.” His deep voice sent tingles of anticipation down her back. When their eyes met and held, a strange form of hunger tightened her belly, and she stepped closer to him. “May I kiss you?” he asked, his blue eyes darkening.
“Yes,” she replied, her answer surprising her as soon as it left her lips, but it was what she truly desired at that moment. Tonight, she wanted to forget that she was Elizabeth Livingston, the bluestocking spinster. She wanted to be Athena the goddess and in the arms of this man.
His eyes flared, and his arm slipped around her waist. “Athena,” he murmured before his lips touched hers.
