Page 24 of Control's Undoing

That allowed Xavier to close his own hand around Colum’s wrist in a warrior clasp, and when Colum pulled against the hold as he stood, Xavier jerked on his arm, causing Colum to stumble forward half a step.

He caught himself with mere centimeters separating their bodies.

Xavier inhaled.Colum smelled like old books, wool, and tea.It was a soft, dark scent that made Xavier think of rainy days curled up with a lover.

Their gazes met, Colum’s bright green behind the lenses of his glasses.

Gently, Xavier released his hand, reached up, and took the glasses off Colum’s nose.He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and, still holding Colum’s gaze, cleaned the lenses.

He placed the glasses back on Colum’s face, brushing his hair back as he skimmed his fingers along the legs to make sure they were positioned correctly on his ears.

Colum’s lips parted on a heavy exhale, his attention shifting to Xavier’s lips.

Xavier let his fingers trail from Colum’s ear, along his neck, to his collar.Colum shivered, eyes sliding shut.

He wanted to kiss this man softly, gently.The flip side of the aggression he wanted to use on Annie.

But they had work to do.A mystery to solve.

Xavier stepped back.“A bientot, Colum.”

Colum’s eyes widened as Xavier turned to leave, scooping his tablet and bag off the table.At the top of the stairs, he turned back to look.

Colum was standing where he’d left him, arms crossed, an almost befuddled look on his very kissable face.

They had work to do, but Xavier had no problem mixing business and pleasure.

The chase was half the fun.

The security alarmjerked Colum awake.He went from a restless sleep to sitting bolt upright, heart racing, in less than a second.

His body reacted, but it took his brain a second to catch up and identify the “whoop” sound.Spinning, he grabbed the security terminal he kept on his bedside locker.The screen was lit up by the grainy image of a dark figure fiddling with the knob on the front door of the archive.

Rage, sweet and hot, poured through him, overwhelming the fear that also bloomed at the sight.

Someone was trying to break intohis archive.Stealhis books.

Colum jerked on a jumper over his sleep shirt and pants and grabbed his glasses.In half a dozen running strides, he was jerking open the door of his basement flat.The stone of the steps up to street level was painfully cold against his bare feet.The dark-clad figure whipped around as Colum jerked open the iron gate at the top of the stairs.Two steps, and he’d whipped around to mount the half dozen steps up to the archive.

This was where Colum’s lack of plan showed.He hadn’t gotten much further in his thought process than “protect the archive.”

But as he reached the wide landing at the front door, the dark figure pulled back one arm, and Colum realized he’d miscalculated.

He leaned away, mindful of the none-too-tall railing on either side of the landing and the long drop down into the light well and onto his small patio, which he’d get to experience if he fell over.

Which also meant he didn’t lean back far enough.The dark-clad figure—wearing a hood and a face mask—surged forward, leading with a fist.

Ouch.

Pain burst in the side of Colum’s face, and he bent, hand over one eye, the other watering, the bridge of his nose stinging from where his glasses had been knocked off.

He braced himself, painfully aware that he was vulnerable to another punch or kick, but he was scared to run blind, given that he could either stumble down the steps or tip over the railing and fall a full story.

Adrenaline thrummed through him, and his mind and body both screamed at him to move.Do something.But common sense held him still until he could clear his vision enough to see where he was going.

Colum blinked frantically, listening for any sound of attack.

Instead, his assailant’s retreating footsteps meant that he’d thwarted the break-in.

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