Page 39 of Dallas
Claire yanks her fork out of Ryder’s hand. He must have taken it from her when she didn’t start eating fast enough. He looks like he was about to feed her. She takes a tiny bite of eggs and glances at me again. “I hope you don’t like cola either. And vegetables are about to become your best friends. You’ve never seen more overbearing men when it comes to nutrition and safety in this labyrinth.”
Now, Dallas chuckles. “Labyrinth. Good one. Fitting.” He turns to me. “On a serious note, I know you didn’t get a chance to look around the library this morning. If it interests you, you’re welcome to help Claire and Reagan start cataloging the books. We can’t find any records of anything in there. It seems it’s been decades since anyone even paid attention. There could be priceless volumes just sitting on the shelves.”
I sit taller, nearly bouncing on my seat. “Do you have any idea how badly I’d love to do that? I might go in there and never come out.”
“Oh, you’ll come out. You’ll eat lunch and dinner and go to bed at a decent time.” He points his fork at me. “And even though Ryder had those ladders inspected, you don’t have permission to climb on them either. Not without one of us present, and even then, I’d rather you let me climb up them to get something you need that’s too high.”
I imitate Claire and roll my eyes. She’s right. They are the most overbearing cavemen in the world. So why am I clenching my thighs together?
Chapter 15
Arianna
* * *
My adrenaline is pumping like never before, six hours later. I’m squealing, too, because Dallas lifted me over his shoulder and carried me upstairs to his room when I wouldn’t obey his demand that I’d spent enough time in the library.
He doesn’t set me down until we’re in the attached bathroom.
I bat at him when he pulls my shirt over my head. “Stop it,” I argue weakly.
He gives me his usual Wilde smirk. “Even though we had that room cleaned, it’s musty. You need a shower before dinner. I don’t want you going to bed with God-only-knows what on you from those old books.”
He’s right. I need a shower, but I don’t need help. I shove at his hands again, but he’s more deft than I gave him credit for. My bra slides down my arms before I can wiggle free of his clutches.
Dallas squats in front of me to remove my shoes and socks, and while I’m still reeling from the way he’s manhandling me, he drags my leggings and panties off, too.
“How am I naked so often while you’re fully clothed?” I ask, crossing my arms over my breasts.
He reaches in to turn on the shower.
I cock out a hip. “I’m capable of undressing and bathing myself, you know.”
“Yep.” He tips my chin back with one finger and kisses me. “You’re capable of all kinds of things, I assume, otherwise you wouldn’t have survived on your own for so long,” he teases.
“Ha ha.”
He cups my face and smiles, staring into my eyes in a way that makes me melt. “You were so happy in the library today. Happier than I ever saw you in the public library.”
My eyes widen. “Do you have any idea what hidden treasures are in your grandfather’s library? The town library doesn’t hold a candle to it. Tomorrow, I want to take a laptop in there so I can start looking some of the older books up to see what they’re worth. There are some first editions that are almost a hundred years old. I’m afraid to touch them. Every time I pick up a new book, I open the spine slowly and carefully, just in case I’m holding a national treasure.”
“Is that why you asked me to get you a pair of gloves?”
I nod. “I don’t want to get my fingerprints or any oils from my skin on those books. I probably have no business touching them. I’m not qualified. You should hire a professional to do the cataloging. Someone from the National Archives or Smithsonian or something.”
He chuckles, even though I was only marginally kidding. “And spoil your fun so I can’t see your face lit up like this every day? Never.” He kisses me. “I have no doubt you are more than qualified to catalog the books, baby.” He turns me around and pats my butt. “Get in the shower.”
When I turn toward the tub-shower combo, I chuckle. “This is not the shower curtain that was in here earlier.”
“I replaced it.”
“Of course you did.” He’s replaced it with a clear plastic curtain that he can see through.
I shoot him a glare over my shoulder as I step over the edge of the tub. “You’re not going to wash me?” I taunt. He does damn near everything for me. The man fed me breakfast because he said he didn’t trust me to keep eating while I was so excited about the library and couldn’t stop talking about the books.
Lunch was similar. He hauled me out of the library and into the kitchen, sat me down, put food in front of me, and pointed at my sandwich every time I left more than a few seconds between bites.
It was the fanciest, most delicious sandwich I’d ever eaten. Everything I’ve had here has been amazing. Gretchen is a wonderful cook.
