people, the insanely famous treasures – it’s not such a mystery as to why.
Peering to my right, I spot one of the gold ladders leading to the balcony that circles the room. I can’t resist. Kicking my heels off, I pull my hair into a messy ponytail before clasping each side of the ladder. Then I slowly and carefully climb to the top, and I soon find myself walking around the circumference of the room on the gold balcony. I glance down, surprised by how high I am. I reach up and rest my touch on the spines as I continue, the consistent mild rise and fall of the tips of my fingers over the books creating a quiet, relaxing thrum.
I loop the room twice before stopping at a shelf in the far corner and picking out a book. ‘Treasures from the Ming Dynasty. You’re on the wrong shelf,’ I say to myself, my head shaking in wonder at the picture adorning the cover. It’s the vase I nearly dropped during my interview, looking even more spectacular with strategic lighting directed on to it. This is another world, a world I never guessed would be this amazing – and the longer I spend in it, the more fascinating and intriguing it becomes. I tuck the book under my arm and take the ladder back down to put it in its correct place.
Stepping off the bottom rung with the book under my arm, I slip my feet back into my heels and make my way over to the other side of the library where a wealth of reference books are kept. Slotting it into place, I run my eyes across the length of books, so damn fascinated by it all. I’ve read hundreds of books on antiques, some general and some specific, but seeing this makes me feel like I’ve only scratched the surface. I reach up to pull out a textbook on Roman treasures, but pause, my hand hovering in the air, when I feel tingles pitter-patter across my skin. I try to shrug them off, scowling at the shelves before me. The tingles only intensify. Goddamn it. I slowly peek over my shoulder to see what I knew I would.
Becker Hunt is standing across the library, his shoulder resting on a bookcase, watching me quietly. I quickly look away before my eyes take the opportunity to drink him in, focusing on the book I was about to browse and pulling it free, flicking through the pages.
‘You found the library,’ he says quietly, his voice smooth and low.
I keep my attention forward. ‘Mrs Potts left me to explore while she gives Mr H his meds.’ Those damn goose bumps won’t shift, no matter how much I beg them to.
‘Do you like it?’ he asks, his voice still quiet.
‘I love it.’ I don’t hesitate. I’m in my element, and if he’s been standing there watching me for a while – and I just know he has – then he’ll have seen my awe as clear as day. It’s magnificent, and not even my disdain for my new boss will make me say otherwise. He’s clearly proud of it. He has every right to be.
‘I’m glad,’ he says, making my fingers pause as I turn a page. My eyes strain, wanting to look over my shoulder at him, but I stubbornly deny them the glorious sight and continue perusing the reference book. Then I hear him inhale, and what he’s going to say next is suddenly all I can think about. ‘I’m feeling a whole lot of Beauty and the Beast going on here,’ he says.
My eyes shoot up from the book, my breath undeniably hitching. I just hope he didn’t hear it. ‘Strange reference.’ I force stability into my tone.
‘Maybe,’ he replies, his voice getting louder. Oh God, he’s coming over. ‘Maybe not.’
Instinct has my feet kicking into action and walking me around the circumference of the room, my face buried in the book. ‘Did you need something?’ I ask casually but attentively. After all, he’s my boss.
My eyes look up involuntarily, and I immediately damn them to hell and back. Shit, how can such a cocky arsehole look so sinfully delectable? He’s suited and booted, his glasses perched on his perfect nose, his mousy hair a perfect ruffled mess. And stubble. Gah! I force my eyes back down.
‘I’m due to fly to South America,’ Becker says. ‘I need you to sort flights and accommodation.’ He walks over and hands a