Page 12 of Tangwystle
He might take his meals with me, but I’d very strictly kept my distance from him otherwise. I knew I didn’t have free run of the place despite how much authority Baz seemed to think I held.
“I shouldn’t,” I told him.
“Why not?” he replied and plucked my book up from the table. By this point, he knew I read any chance I got. I couldn’t deny it, considering he’d noticed my book that very first day. And he’d come several times into the kitchen to find me curled up with tea and a book in the evenings.
“You’re going to spend the rest of your night reading,” Baz said, heading out the door, my book in his clutches. “You may as well be comfortable.”
“I’m very comfortable!” I called after him.
“We have a library, Tangwystle.” His voice echoed behind him, amusement lining his words.
I hurried after him, something I later realized tended to happen those first few weeks. I didn’t think of myself as a flowery person, but I reached toward him like a blade of grass looking for the sun.
If you think that sounds awfully poetic for such a dry creature as myself, I’d agree.
But I couldn’t help only ever thinking of Baz as the sunlight. Warmth exuded from him, and not because he could spark a fire in any of the hearths in the Manor. His voice was full of life when he spoke, and his words never cut into a person.
“Oh, so you do know how to join me in the library,” Baz said a few minutes later, already sitting by the fire.
I sat down in the wingback chair opposite him. “It’s highly inap?—”
“It’s not,” he said, firm. “Now read your book, Tangwystle.”
I lifted the leather tome. But after staring blankly at the pages for a few moments, my gaze shifted up. Baz stared openly at me.
“What is your book about?” he asked.
“It’s. . .”
His own book sat closed on his lap. I knew all the books in this library, thanks to all the dusting I’d done over the years. Baz preferred history books.
“It’s. . .” Baz prompted at my silence.
“Just a story.”
“About?”
“A man who can shift into a dragon.”
“How fascinating. And what happens?”
My fingers curled around the edges of the book, holding it closer to my chest. As if the pages would give me away.
“What happens in it?” Baz asked, a cheeky smile growing on his face.
My eyes narrowed. He already knew, the bastard. I just wasn’t sure when he’d found my books. I tried to keep them put away because I already understood how nosy of a person Baz could be. And he had no qualms about asking questions or teasing. Hence why he smiled now.
“He meets a woman,” I said, clearing my throat. “And they fall in love.”
“Love?” He arched a brow.
My shoulders crept up. His smirk only grew.
“Yes, love,” I said. “They fall in love. And that’s all. It’s just a bit of a love story.”
I made absolutely no mention of the dragon shifter’s nine-inch cock tearing into the heroine’s cunt. Nothing about her crying out for him. Not a single word about him whispering dirty little things as he worked her up.
Dirty girl, dirty girl, dirty girl.
