Page 31 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

Because even though the girly part of me loved our little moment yesterday, the rational part of me knows it was some twisted game the rich older men are playing and had nothing to do with a true desire to be in my company.

And somehow this knowledge brings more heartache and disappointment than any family truths could.

“You’ve lost your mind,” I mutter before noticing Rebecca has a specific request for my interview sketch. The assignment should depict the myth she has chosen for me. Sort of telling the story with my drawings alone in an easy and interesting way for the kids.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

So much for not thinking about her son.

“Focus,” I order myself, blocking away memories of the dark four and deciding to start working on the project right now.

I might be savvy with all the Greek and Roman mythology; however, I have no clue about the four riders.

Getting up, I walk in the direction of the librarian who can advise me where to find the appropriate books, only to frown when I realize there’s no one around. In fact, the library is empty.

“Hello!” I call. Maybe the librarian went somewhere in the back, but only silence greets me. “Hello!” I shiver a little when the blast of the AC hits me, and I sigh in exasperation, studying various bookshelves to find what I might need. In normal circumstances, I would go straight for the Bible; this time though, I go to the mythology section, because maybe someone wrote a book specifically on them.

It takes me four rounds of walking around until I find the right bookshelf, tracing my finger over the books as I read their names and come up short every single time, as none of them covers what I need.

Until my eyes land on the bright red book and with a loud squeal I snag it, flipping it open and searching through the table of contents.

“Found what you needed?” a deep, husky voice echoes in the space, making butterflies erupt in my stomach and my heartbeat speed up.

Spinning around, I come face-to-face with Santiago, who stands between the shelves in all his handsome glory, wearing jeans and white T-shirt, his leather jacket hanging over his shoulder on his finger.

He swipes his gaze over me, appreciation flashing in his sapphire orbs before he cocks a smile at me. “I might help with that.” He points at the book in my hand, and it finally snaps me out of my stupor.

“What are you doing here?” His brows rise at my question, and I mentally slap myself; we’re in a public library where anyone can enter. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect to see you here.” What are the odds of me meeting Santiago in the library of all places? He didn’t strike me as the type that frequents them.

Unless he came here because of me?

“And no, thank you. I’ll figure everything out on my own.” With a fake smile on my face, I glue my gaze back on the book, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave me alone.

The last thing I need right now is for Santiago to distract me from work and play with my emotions.

Instead of leaving though, he steps closer, and his masculine scent washes over me, disturbing my senses as he rests his arm above me on a shelf and traps me between it and his hard chest. “Is this what you’re used to in life?” he asks, and I have no choice but to look up, our stares clashing. The air in my lungs hitches at such intensity blazing in them that they warm up my body from inside out, almost setting it on fire with his presence alone. “Handling all your problems on your own?”

Pushing a little at his chest to wiggle out of the prison he created around me and not seeing him budge, I reply, “Doing an assignment for work is hardly a problem. Please step away.”

He of course ignores my request. “Well then, you refusing help is one.”

“I don’t have any problem!” I shout and clamp my hand over my mouth, groaning in frustration and embarrassment in case someone heard it. I don’t want to be kicked out of the library, and who knows, maybe newcomers have arrived just like Santiago did. “Look, whatever game you’re playing, I don’t want any part of it.”

Amusement flickers in his gaze, and he leans ever closer, our faces inches away from each other. He prompts, “Game?”

Licking my dry lips while simultaneously ordering my body to behave and not become a pile of goo by his feet, I elaborate to my humiliation. “Did you bet on me or something?” Anger crosses his face at this, his body tensing next to mine, wiping away the smug grin from his mouth. “Is this why you danced with me and now followed me here?” Since he stays silent, I straighten, pressing the book hard to my chest and doing my best to keep my voice steady, even though I secretly hoped he would have denied my accusations. “Not sure what the conditions were, but you can tell them you won and stop bothering yourself with faking an interest in my problems or going around offering help.” I shrug. “Please, just stop acting like you’re interested in me.”

There is no logical explanation for his interest but this, and I won’t let my heart fool me into thinking anything otherwise.

Clearing my throat and shifting a little, I say, “So if you—”

He swallows the rest of my sentence with his mouth as he drops it to mine, connecting us with a deep, toe-curling kiss when his thumb presses on my chin until it gives up under his assault. I open my mouth wide to welcome his tongue slipping in, roaming and gliding over mine while they duel for dominance.

I moan into him, the book dropping to the floor along with his jacket as my arms circle his neck. I rise to my tiptoes and tilt my head back to give him better access to deepen the kiss, the desire sliding along my skin and awakening every hair on my body while arrows of lust shoot to my core.

I’ve been kissed by a few different men in my life, but no one kissed me like Santiago.

Passionately, hungrily, and so deep as if he wants to forever imprint himself on my mouth so every other kiss I experience won’t be able to compare to this one.

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