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Alex felt buoyant, seeing how happy the library had made her. How happy it made him. He had shared something of himself with her and Emma seemed grateful for the surprise, perhaps thinking it was his generosity that had led to him sharing it with her because books and reading were so close to her heart. But it was more than that. This room was his sanctuary too.
Alex pushed her against the bookshelf, kissing her deeply, but his phone chose this most inopportune time to ring.
‘Dammit,’ he growled, pulling the device out of his pocket. ‘I have to take this—it’s my father.’
Emma handed his shirt back to him and wrapped a throw around herself as he left the library, answering the video call as he went to his study. Calls from his father were usually about work. It was the easiest common ground to find between them as they built and rebuilt their relationship over the years.
‘Hello, Dad.’
Robert Hastings took one look at his son and asked, ‘Are you busy?’
‘I have company,’ Alex said simply.
Alex knew it wasn’t his dishevelled appearance that had struck his father—rather the way he was looking. Somewhere between relaxed and annoyed at being disturbed. His father would have seen that look on his face a hundred times while he grew up. When he’d been completely focussed on something he enjoyed and had been disturbed. The thing was that even then he hadn’t felt happy. Not like he did right now.
Alex wondered if his father had come to regret all the time he’d spent working. The time they had lost with Alex at boarding school, and then again when he had come home during the holidays and Robert had always been holed up in his study. It made Alex sometimes wonder how things would have been different if his father had been around more.
‘How are you, son?’ his father asked.
Alex frowned. ‘Fine...’ he said, feeling uncertain. ‘I thought you were calling about work.’
‘Can’t a father enquire as to the state of his child?’
Alex laughed. ‘Of course he can.’
‘You have company, son. I don’t want to interrupt. We can always talk tomorrow.’
‘There’s no need.’ Alex jumped head-first into work and the two Hastings men talked business until they realised how late it had become.
When Alex had left the study Emma had stepped into the passage to better examine the art that was hung there. At first it seemed surprising that Alex would collect art at all, but as she looked at each piece the collection seemed to reflect him perfectly.
They weren’t expensive pieces, bought as an investment. Nor were they a show of his wealth or status. They were parts of him—parts of a whole.
There were many paintings reflecting water. A river or an ocean. A lot of them seemed to feature blue prominently, which she guessed might be a colour he was partial to. The huge photographs were scenes from different places across the world, and she remembered what he’d said about wanting Hastings to truly be global.
Emma pulled herself away and went back into the library. It was so inviting, and now she knew it was there it was definitely going to be the place she spent the most time in.
Eager to see what sort of books Alex had in his collection, she started her examination of titles from the first bookshelf, reading the spines as she went.
She didn’t get very far. A book she had loved for years caught her eye. Pulling the ladder over, she climbed up two rungs to reach the beautifully embossed hardcover book that was clearly a collector’s edition. She ran her fingers over the gold letters on the cover:The Time Machine.
It fell open in her hand, to a page that had a magnetic bookmark attached to it. It was a fancy thing. Like something one would receive as a gift. It was leather, and etched in striking patterns with the initialsAJH. It made her smile that he was reading the same book that had caught her attention.
Emma took it over to the couch, where she curled up with her feet on the cushions. Opening up the first page, she was lost to the fantasy...
After his call, Alex went straight back to the library. Remembering how passionately Emma had spoken of her literacy charity, he knew she wouldn’t have left the room. Leaning against the door jamb, Alex watched Emma silently. Having her there fixed a piece of him in place that had been missing for so long, and he recognised how perilous a feeling that was because he just wasn’t ready for something like that. It wasn’t the way he was wired. But looking at her as he was now, seeing her wrapped in the luxurious throw, brought what he’d thought he knew about himself into doubt.
He noticed that the book she was reading was one of his favourites. One that he had recently started reading again.
‘That’s a good book,’ he said from the doorway.
Emma looked up with a start. It was as if she had forgotten where she was.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He pushed off the doorframe and joined her on the couch.
‘It’s fine.’ She laughed nervously. ‘It’s one of my favourites,’ she said, turning to the cover.
‘Mine too. Sorry I took so long.’
