Her Perfect Match by Jess Michaels

lifted his head and slowly turned to look at her. His bright eyes were wide with surprise and his mouth tilted up in a grin she didn’t expect after his avoidance of her.
    “Great God, Vivien…Miss Manning. I didn’t expect to see you here today.”
    She tilted her head. “Nor I you. When I heard your voice, I thought I was dreaming.”
    He arched a brow. “Do you often dream of me in bookstores?”
    She laughed even though the question was a loaded one. “You must know you are dreamed of by dozens of women. I could not say I wasn’t one of them.”
    The smile remained on his face but left his eyes at her response. Abruptly, he returned his attention to the books.
    “And what are you doing out and about today?”
    She hesitated. She had kept her ultimate goals secret from her best friends. She couldn’t tell Benedict. Especially not Benedict.
    “Vivien?” he asked when she pondered the question too long.
    “I am enjoying London,” she blurted out, quoting directly from her list. “I fear I do little of that, even though I have lived in the city for nearly a decade.”
    He glanced at her, appraising. “A lofty goal—there is much to enjoy. And Paddington’s is as good a place to start as any. Though you must know that, with your love of books.”
    Vivien shifted. Despite everything, he did know her well. Better than any other lover she’d ever had. “I have never been before today, actually.”
    He swiveled to face her directly, his face a mask of disbelief that made her very uncomfortable. She was accustomed to ruling her own world, but when she left its borders, she was often ill at ease.
    “You needn’t look at me like that, Benedict,” she snapped, forgetting propriety in this public sphere. “You must not be as shocked as you pretend. A woman such as myself doesn’t belong in a shop where the Prince himself sometimes buys his books. I have no place in museums and parks and all the places where dignified people congregate. Even you, who claimed to care for me beyond my station in life, didn’t parade me out with the upper class. You kept me where I belonged, the opera house, the ballrooms of your closest friends and the bedrooms of my home.”
    He flinched as if she had slapped him. “Great God, Vivien, I had no idea you felt this way.”
    She turned her face. She did sound very bitter when she said those words to him. Was she bitter? She had never felt that way until now…
    He moved toward her and his hand fluttered as if he wanted to reach for her, to comfort her. Embarrassment, uncommon and unwanted, filled her and she backed a step away to avoid increasing it further with his touch.
    “You are a lady of the highest order,” he said softly. “Whatever your ‘station’ in life, it does not change that. You belong in this shop, as well as any other place in London you desire to travel.”
    She shifted at his kindness and the sudden focus of his stare, then shrugged them both off.
    “It is a good thing, then, for I intend to go to all of them before—” She broke off. There was no need to say anything more. “It doesn’t matter. I heard you say to the shopkeep that you had books on order.”
    His concern remained on his face as he answered her. “Yes. I come in once a week, on this day, when Mr. Paddington receives his newest shipments. I check on my orders and browse the new arrivals.”
    “Mr. Paddington?” She blinked. “But this shop has been here for two hundred years. Don’t tell me that a Paddington still runs the place.”
    “Oh yes.” Benedict nodded as if the statement were as solemn as a prayer. “He and his father and his father’s fathers have served our city for years. That is why their reputation is so great.”
    Once again, Vivien felt uncomfortable in her very skin but pretended it away.
    “And I see you have not resisted their lure either.” He motioned toward her books. “Might I look at your selections?”
    She hesitated and clutched her books closer out