She didn’t know if he was cutting off further inquiry or simply giving directions, but he’d sounded slightly distant, so she took the hint. Not that he didn’t have a lot on his mind—important, grave concerns. This wasn’t the time to be chatty.
His suite had stupendous views of the city and lake, the period furniture conforming to the date of the building with a few modern exceptions, like a long comfortable sofa and chairs in the sitting room and a wall of TV screens in the bedroom opposite the palace-size four-poster bed hung with cream silk bed curtains. The half dozen skateboards stacked in one corner were an anomaly in the splendor of the room.
She pointed. “Obviously, you skateboard.”
“Occasionally. Basil and I used to compete when we were younger, thirteen, fourteen. Won a few trophies. Then I grew another seven inches.” He shrugged. “My size became a disadvantage. Your things should be in my dressing room,” he added.
She got the message, no matter the softness of his tone; he was in a hurry.
Leading her through the bedroom to his dressing room, he indicated a bank of mirrored doors to their left. “Over there, I’m guessing. I have a few calls to make, so I’ll be in the sitting room. Take your time.”
He clearly didn’t mean it, with the muscle twitching in his cheekbone. “It won’t take me long,” she said. “If you’d like to save time, pick out some books for me.”
He flexed his fingers, then smiled. “Sorry, nerves. They’re pounding our systems hard. But whether you or I select the books isn’t make or break. You don’t have to rush.” With a quick smile, he turned and left.
She knew better, so she found the brilliant blue cashmere pants and hoodie and her own flip-flops and changed in record time. Quickly returning to the sitting room, she found Rafe standing at the window, speaking rapidly in French on his phone. He must have heard her come in, because he turned and ended his call.
His brows lifted. “No bra?”
She opened the hoodie. “T-shirt underneath. I figured if I was going to sleep in these, I might as well be comfortable. You could be there for a while you said.”
He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “I want to lock you away for my eyes only. I’ve never felt that way before.” He slowly exhaled. “Not exactly possible in this day and age, so”—his smile was tight—“I’m just going to have to warn off everyone.”
“Jeez, don’t embarrass me. If you go all caveman on me, I’ll have to put you in your place, and neither one of us wants that right now.” She shrugged. “So in the interests of workplace harmony and not weirding you out, why don’t I go put on a bra.”
“Hang on.” His teeth closed on his bottom lip for a second, then he said, “I’m a big boy. I’ll deal with it. You weird me out in every other way—what’s one more? Come on, we’ll find you some books.” But he paused briefly halfway to the door, kicked a pair of Vans out from under a chair, and slipped them on. “When the tech room’s in panic mode”—his brows flickered—“everyone’s overcaffeinated, distracted, jittery, spilling crap. Now what do you like to read?”
His library was huge, with floor-to-ceiling books, some, Rafe casually mentioned, from Gutenberg’s time. Sliding ladders gave access to the higher shelves and an ancient globe that looked like it had been hand-painted by monks before the discovery of America sat on a stand just inside the doorway. Comfortable leather chairs were scattered about the room and the large, elaborately carved desk located center stage was clearly medieval.
Wide-eyed, Nicole turned to Rafe. “This isn’t pretty decent, this is like illustrious. You better just point me to the books that don’t cost a fortune.”
He smiled. “All the books are meant to be read. Take whatever you like. Some of the new ones are on those shelves to your right. There’s a first edition of Fanny Hill in the cabinet by the window though, if you’d like to get off before I have time to join you.”
She snorted. “As if I’m going to do that with a room full of IT people.”
“I have a nice, cozy office.”
“Ummm…”
“Exactly. Let me get it for you while you check out the more recent fiction.”
“You’re way too nice.” She looked up at him and licked her bottom lip. “I’m beginning to get all starry-eyed and impatient about our anniversary.”
He laughed. “I’ll have to see if I can get away for an hour or so tonight and celebrate with you.”
“Really, you mean it?” She felt like some screaming teenybopper fan being offered her pick of rock stars.