Exposed: A British Bad Boy Romance (20 page)

Chapter 9

SARAH

“I
… uh—” she panted, breathless, dizzy with need. She leaned forward, nearly able to taste him they were so close.

Her magic pinged inside of her, restlessly seeking him, desperate to join with him and recharge. In the very back of her mind, Sarah knew she should do something to stop herself before this got out of hand. But her mind was hazy. Foggy with desire for the man that invaded her senses and overwhelmed her.

She wanted him. There was no denying it in that moment. With his hand on her hip and his eyes boring straight into her soul. It was more than just her magic urging her forward.

Her lips hovered above his; she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She could only respond to this electric pull that he had.

She felt his phone vibrate against her chest — they’d been that close — and the spell was temporarily broken as he took a step back to look at the caller.

Sloan muttered a curse and Sarah knew that he’d take the call. Equal measures of relief and disappointment crashed through her and her magic fizzled in dejection.

Before he stepped away, Sloan’s eyes met her — instant magnetism held her in place, frozen.

“This isn’t over,” he said, sending shivers down her spine and dampness to her core.

As he walked away, Sarah sank into the bookshelf behind her. That was close.
Too
close. Her magic had come so close to completely taking over. She couldn’t let it get the best of her or someone could get hurt. Worse, she could hurt the library.

Despite her constant denial of epic proportions, even Sarah couldn’t deny how much she wanted him. How he pulled her in. How she fantasized about him. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything — even this job — and that scared the shit out of her.

Still, who was that phone call from? The niggling suspicion that not all was as it seemed compelled Sarah to follow Sloan and eavesdrop on his conversation. She reshelved a few books closer to him, trying to listen to his conversation through the shelves and books. The library was such a quiet place to begin with, but the constant thrum of her pulse after the encounter with Sloan made it difficult to hear much else.

The few words she caught were nothing particularly damning. So why could she still not trust him? Was it a character flaw of her own? Maybe he was a perfectly trustworthy guy and she was just suspicious.

She caught him looking at her as he hung up the phone and decided to confront him about his intentions once more.

Before she could address him, he called her out.

“Do you make a habit of listening in on other’s phone calls, Sarah?” Though his tone wasn’t angry, she still got the impression she was being reprimanded.

Sarah refused to be cowed. Her hands settled on her hips and she tried to find her voice — the strong adult voice, not the quivering meek one he seemed to elicit any time he was near.

“What are your real intentions here? I don’t believe you give a damn about community involvement.”

He had the good sense to look offended at her accusation. She still wasn’t buying it. An idea blossomed and a smile spread her lips before she could hide it. He was going to back himself into a corner and she’d be right there to pounce.

“We’ve had this discussion. I’m interested in the rich history of the Kerris and preserving it and the knowledge within for future generations. Of course I care about community involvement,” his voice was hard as steel, but he’d given her the opening she sought.

“That’s great. I was hoping you really meant it. We had to cancel our Annual Literacy Event because of the budget… Jerry couldn’t make it work. I was hoping you would see the value in the event and use your considerable resources to bring it back online. It’s such an important event for the library, you know.”

His dumbfounded expression gave Sarah more satisfaction than she cared to admit. He seemed surprised by her deft maneuvering of the conversation to her own ends. Then he smiled — a wide smile that made the dimple in his left cheek even more prominent despite the five o’clock shadow that graced his jawline.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I also need your assistance with some research when you’ve finished those arrangements,” he agreed.

For a moment, her heart stopped. Then it swelled to enormous proportions. He may not realize how much this event meant to her, but Sarah couldn’t be more grateful. He didn’t say anything. His eyes said everything; she’d challenged him and won, but he almost looked… proud.

The tenderness in his eyes made her mouth dry. Something small and real — wholly separate from the animalistic attraction between them — took root in her heart. She still couldn’t be sure about him, but instead of squashing it right away, she decided to let it stay. Hopefully she wouldn’t regret it.

              “Great! I’ll start calling people,” she said, dismissing herself before she did something stupid.

              She couldn’t believe it had worked. Sloan didn’t seem like the type of man to be easily manipulated. Perhaps he was as affected by her as she was by him.

              “Yummy, right?” Janine said as she approached the desk.

Sarah stammered a response, “Uh… what?”

“The new guy. He’s delicious. I liked Jerry and all, but the new office decoration is really a sight for sore eyes,” she teased. “And he seems awfully happy to see you. We might need to make a policy about pitching tents in the library.”

Oh god. Had she seen their little encounter in the stacks? Sarah’s cheeks burned with the heat of the Sun. Janine would never let her live this down. She had to change the subject. Fast.

“And how would your husband feel about you talking about some other man like that?” Sarah asked, unwilling to admit to her indiscretions.

Janine laughed, “Sweetheart, after twenty-seven years of marriage we both know we’re not the most pleasant thing to look at. There’s no harm in looking at the slice of cake as long as you stick to your diet, you know what I’m saying?”

Sarah laughed in spite of herself. Janine certainly painted a vivid picture. She couldn’t though. Work was already stressful enough without sexual tension.

“Alright

, fair enough,” she answered, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

Janine waggled her eyebrows in Sarah’s direction, “But there’s no reason you couldn’t take a bite and let me know how it was… I like to remember what cake tastes like while I’m having my salad,” she teased.

Sarah rolled her eyes and pulled out the donor list as she sat down at the phone, “Not a chance. This place is way too important to me to risk it all for a bite of cake.”

“Even if it’s the super scrumptious beef cake in the office?”

“
Especially
then,” Sarah protested, dialing the first number.

Janine pouted, “Well, you’re no fun.”

Sarah just shook her head. If only she knew.

Chapter 10

SLOAN

H
e had to hand it to her: she had nerve. To listen in on his phone call and then demand something from him… Sloan was impressed. He didn’t think the shy little librarian had it in her. It was just as well, though. Maybe hosting this event for her would be the thing he needed to defrost her chilly response to him.

              Then again, her response to him in the stacks had been anything but chilly. The tiger groaned with desire and blood rushed southward. God, he needed to get her out of his head.

              She practically skipped away from him, so happy to have her event back. Sloan’s chest swelled with pride.
He’d
done that. He’d been the one that made her happy and giddy. The sense of satisfaction surprised him. He wanted to continue to be the cause of that wide smile and the twinkle in her eyes.

              It didn’t take a genius to see how much this old library meant to Sarah. And it took even less intellect to realize how much the librarian was beginning to mean to him. She was slowly but surely worming her way into his heart when all he wanted was to have her in his bed.

              There were bigger problems than a witch stealing his heart, though. Sloan had Randal to contend with. The kid was a loose cannon — to eager to prove himself and knock Sloan down a few pegs. He needed to get him off of his neck ASAP. Randal lacked finesse, he wouldn’t know how to pry information from a delicate flower like Sarah.

              Images of her hands on her hips, resolutely challenging him with steel in her gaze, made Sloan rethink that. Maybe Sarah wasn’t a delicate flower.

              He still didn’t want Randal within ten miles of her.

              The tiger agreed. He’d already claimed Sarah even if they hadn’t completed the act physically. There was no deterring the beast inside of him.

              A few hours later, Sloan was hunched over his desk, trying to read a faded old journal, desperately seeking any relevant information at all, when there was a knock on his door.

              His head popped up as the door opened and Sarah’s delicious aroma hit him before he could even see her.

              She poked her head in and gave him a hesitant smile.

              “You said you needed some help with research?”

              He nodded, his vision going hazy for a moment as the tiger clamored to be free. Visions of her sauntering over to his desk, stripping for him, baring herself for him, clouded his thoughts. The tiger approved of those visions.

              Sloan cleared his throat and waved her in, “Yeah, come in. Take a seat.”

              Sarah’s eyes roved over the disarray of his office — papers and books scattered everywhere with no discernible filing or organization. He knew she was probably cringing deep inside, but he expression remained pleasant.

              “Wow, you’ve certainly been busy, haven’t you?” she teased, looking at a few of the documents as she sat.

              “What is it that you’re researching? Specifically?”

              “I want to learn more about the history of this library and its namesake,” he answered simply.

              “Do you mean it? You’re interested in the Kerris?” she asked. Maybe she’d assumed he’d been posturing all along and was surprised to see him actually taking the initiative.

“Of course. This is my domain now, I should know the history. I’ve been doing some research on my own, but I don’t fully understand the archive’s organization system,” he said with a smirk.

Sarah flushed. He knew the stacks of acid-free boxes that littered the office were her doing. Anything and everything having to do with Kerris and Palm Haven caught her attention and was tucked away for future reference. On the one hand, it meant that he was sure to have whatever information he sought about the town. On the other hand, he may never be able to
find
that information.

“Sure, I can help you find what you’re looking for,” she said, avoiding his gaze. Her fingers twitched at her side. He noticed the blinds rustling in a non-existent breeze as Sarah focused her attention on her charm bracelet, something she seemed to do when nervous.

He admired the sterling bracelet that she fingered. His gaze traveled up her arms to the flush that colored her chest. Only hours ago he’d been ready to kiss her neck, explore her body, make her breathless with need. Not now. Now they had a job to do and he couldn’t entertain thoughts like those. It was only business. Library business. Nothing else.

After a few hours of digging through documents and Sarah explaining who Kerris was — and why he was worthy of a library in his name — Sloan shifted in his seat. While he paid attention to everything she said, he was far more interested in the way her lips moved, the subtle mixture of her nervousness and excitement made his tiger anxious to pounce. Her knowledge was too valuable; he couldn’t jeopardize the entire plan because his tiger wanted a piece of ass.

It was time to get to the meat of his problem.

“I haven’t been able to find any information on why this particular piece of land was chosen,” Sloan tried, attempting to sound innocent.

Sarah was too caught up in sharing her excitement to notice. She was so happy to have someone to share the Kerris with that it was infectious. Sloan found himself caring about Silas Kerris and the good deeds he’d done.

“Well, Mr. Kerris actually lived on the adjoining lot. Palm Haven has a long history of paranormal and supernatural activity and Mr. Kerris thought that this land was at an intersection of kinds. In his theory, all land has latent power, but veins of super concentrated power run through Palm Haven. This particular plot, in his theory, sits overtop an intersection of three such veins, making it very powerful.”

“Ley lines?” Sloan asked before he could stop himself.

Sarah’s lips parted in surprise. She nodded hesitantly.

“I read something about them,” he muttered.

“His daughter believed in his theory, too. So when the time came to dedicate land to a Kerris Memorial Library, she insisted her father’s memory guard this land from those who might try to harness the ley lines for nefarious purposes.”

Sloan leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

“What do you think about it?” he asked.

Sarah paused, considering for a moment.

“I think this place is special. If it’s for any kind of magical reason or otherwise, I’m not sure. Mr. Kerris was a great man, but even the greatest man has his follies. Who’s to say this theory wasn’t his?”

He knew she wasn’t being completely forthcoming with him. But how could she be? She was a witch. Surely she knew if there were ley lines beneath the library or not. He had to get it out of her.

“I read something else when I was reading about ley lines,” he said, testing the waters as she shifted nervously in her seat. Talking about magic seemed to unsettle her. “About Guardians. Do you know anything about that?”

Sarah shook her head, “No. I’m not well-versed in magical lore.”

He rifled through the stacks on the desk, looking for the paper he had in mind.

“Here,” he said, holding the paper up to the light. The library was quiet and dark, Janine had left for the day hours ago, leaving them alone to their research. Sloan never would have believed that he could do research while being alone with this delectable woman.

“A Guardian Witch sacrifices herself for the protection of the lines. In exchange, she, and only she, can wield the power of the lines. Failure to protect the ley lines is a fate worse than death for a Guardian Witch, as loss of the power will leave her empty and void of humanity.”

“Well that’s grim,” Sarah said, taking the paper from him, “You can’t always believe things like this though. The Coven back in the old days was a lot of doom and gloom, fire and brimstone — they liked to control people with fear.”

“I’ve heard they still do,” he said, garnering a look of surprise from her.

“What do you know about the Coven?”

He leaned in and toyed with the charms around her wrist, his fingers settling on the all-seeing eye. Many witches used the symbol for focus and protection.

“Enough,” he answered, not needing any more words to get his point across.

Sarah’s head whipped around, colliding with Sloan’s. They both winced and rubbed the fresh red mark on their foreheads.

“Ow. I’m sorry,” Sarah apologized.

Sloan dismissed her apology, “It’s okay,” he sighed, the moment between them broken again.

After another moment of rubbing her sore head, Sarah seemed to remember what had caught her by surprise.

He saw the wheels turning in her head as she tried to formulate the question: Did he know she was a witch?

“Well,” he said with a big stretch, “maybe it’s time we call it a night. I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot meal and a nice long nap.”

She bit back the question on the tip of her tongue, looking relieved before she answered with a yawn, “Sure. We can pick back up tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Sloan nodded. He had a lot to think about. The ley lines were undoubtedly real. He was convinced of that now. Just as convinced as he was that they ran beneath his very feet. But was Sarah the Guardian the ley lines needed? And what would happen to her if his clan took control?

A fate worse than death
, he remembered,
empty and void of humanity
.

He looked at Sarah, so vibrant and full to bursting with enthusiasm. The thought of her as a hollow husk of a person made his heart clench in protest. Over his dead body.