20. Whitley Whitt

Chapter 20

Whitley Whitt

Can a girl read in peace?

I breathe in the scent of old books and parchment of the castle library, enjoying the silence and coziness. Finding a place to get some alone time where I’m not assaulted with memories of what Connor did to me in my dark bedroom is becoming difficult.

“I’m so in over my head,” I tell the ceiling, my legs draped over the side of a comfy leather chair.

Blowing out a hard breath, I drop my open book to my chest and wiggle my feet, wishing I could focus on the words. Reclining in one of the reading chairs in the corner of the room, I glance at the rows of tall wooden shelves that line one wall. My gaze then travels to the piano on the opposite side, while I try to rationalize my life.

The author is a word wizard, but so far, the male character and his knot are totally not helping my new predicament. I nibble at my bottom lip as I try to imagine what Connor’s reaction to my bookish obsession would be.

He certainly isn’t bothered by play toys, that’s for sure.

After making me come more times than I can count, he insisted on giving me a massage, starting with my shoulders and working down my body. I passed out somewhere around my lower back and woke up with panties and a shirt on—and that’s so fucking sweet it makes my teeth ache.

Too much more of this and I’m going to be spoiled rotten by the man. I can’t seem to keep him out of my thoughts. Even more shocking is the knowledge we didn’t even have sex, and now I really want to. My stomach dips at the thought that there are only a few more weeks before I’m supposed to be heading back to Louisiana, and butterflies are racking my insides.

“Miss Whitt,” a male voice says out of nowhere, making me jump.

Frank Stein stands in a dark-blue suit, his hair styled as it has been every time I’ve seen him, with a newspaper and phone under his arm.

“Oh, hey,” I greet, with an awkward smile.

Pushing my book under the chair pillow, I twist my body into a sitting position and tuck my hair behind my ear.

He holds up a hand when I start to get to my feet.

“Don’t get up on my account. In fact, may I sit?”

I nod mutely and wait for the large man to sit in the chair opposite me, wincing at how large he looks in the regular sized chair.

“Apologies. I only wanted to ask how long you’ve been staying with the castle staff?” He tugs at his suit jacket, his gaze hopeful.

The question throws me for a moment as I think back. How long have I been here?

“I’ve been here almost two months now.”

He leans back in the chair and reaches into his pants pocket to pull out his phone. A smile pulls across his lips and gray eyes crease with amusement.

“Nice. I’m planning a surprise for Vlad and his new girlfriend.”

“Aubrey?” My brow furrows.

What kind of present does the richest man alive give friends as a surprise?

“Yeah. Do you know when she got here? I’m trying to put something together for them both, but no one seems to know when they first met, or when she first arrived anyway.”

His chiseled, handsome face scrunches into some kind of grin that I can’t recognize as either cheery or convincing. Then again, my assumptions about the man may be wrong, and it’s so hard not to be confused and starstruck next to someone whose little pinky tip has more money in it than my entire bank account.

I put a hand on my chest. “Aww, that’s so sweet, but she arrived before I did. I think maybe a week before me, but Mr. O’Doyle would know the exact date.”

His blond brows come together, marring his forehead, as he shifts in his seat. “Actually, I’m trying to surprise him as well. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but he and Vlad are quite close, like brothers really.”

Pasting a smile on my face, I think back to when I first stepped foot in the place searching for the kitchen, only to find them rubbing tanning lotion on each other. I guess that does make sense.

“Yeah. I did kind of figure they were close,” I say awkwardly, masking the weirdness I’ve seen with a strained laugh.

“Good. It will be our little secret then. Do you know if there were any other guests? I wouldn’t want to miss anyone.”

I think back, trying to recall, and move my head back and forth. “No. I distinctly remember it was just Aubrey. She’d made risotto I found in the fridge that night.”

My cheeks heat. He doesn’t care about the stupid risotto, Whitley.

“Thank you very much, Miss Whitt. It’s been a pleasure.”

He gets to his feet, and I have to crane my head back to look up and see his head almost in the chandelier. Not really, but from my perspective, he’s like King Kong and I’m the size of a toothpick to him... just too damn big.

“Happy to have been a help.”

The library door shuts, and I slump in my seat, sighing when I realize I still have a couple of hours before I’m needed in the kitchen. I slide my book out from under the pillow to settle back into reading, trying to ignore my thoughts spinning with what Connor could be doing. I groan when the words cock and knot leap off the page at me, sending lust roiling in my stomach.

A noise somewhere between a whine and a growl escapes me after I try to read the same sentence five times, and I plant the open book on my face. I lean back in the chair, irritated with myself.

Something has got to give.