Locked with Him by Ellen Dominick Page A

had to make my way home. I stood up and walked to the farthest edge of the stacks.
    That area was really deserted. We were lucky to have it. It had old first editions and even original manuscripts, all open to the public. Not that it mattered, because I hadn't ever seen a library patron back there even once .
    Not only was it in the deepest, darkest, furthest corner of the library, but you needed special permission to go there. That meant you either had to go through the head librarian, or me .
    Of course, the automatic shut off lights that sometimes left you completely alone in darkness and the floating cobwebs that maintenance never cleaned it didn't help with its popularity. Neither did the ancient architecture that didn't get renovated with the rest of the library. Something about "maintaining authenticity." It was all enough to make you feel like you were walking into the middle of a horror movie
      So when I saw him there, I almost screamed.
    He was standing in the dark, using his smartphone to peer at the pages of the book in his hand. I should have just called out to him. I should have just told him that the library was closing due to inclement weather conditions. But I didn't.
    There was something different about him. He didn't look like the other shy guys who came down here. He was tall and wore a crisp blue dress shirt that peaked out from underneath his sweater. The fabric looked soft as it hid what seemed to be well formed muscles. I wanted to touch it.
    But what was even more interesting was what he was reading. The Marquis de Sade's 120 days of Sodom .
    I tried to peek over his shoulder, but I could only see that he was reading in the original French. The paper looked worn. How old was that edition? And anyway, how did he get down here without me knowing?
    "A crazy story, isn't it?" He said. "Imagine being locked up in a castle with those guys for months . It probably wasn't hard to get people to have orgies with four rich men. Of course, things get pretty dark after that."
    He spoke without turning around. How had he even known that I was there?
    "I went to the Musée des Lettres et Manuscrits to see the original manuscript. The scroll is 39 feet long, and the writing is so tiny I had to use a magnifying glass to read it.
    "So when I found out that your library has one of the few first editions published by Iwan Bloch, I had to come. I got permission from your head librarian. She told me you'd be here."
    He turned around, and looked me straight in the eye. His gaze sent a shiver down my spine.
    "Have you ever been to see the original in Paris, Penelope?"
    At first, I couldn't even find the words to answer. Of course I'd never been to the Musée des Lettres et Manuscrits. I was just a librarian, and not even the head! What kind of money did he think I had to go gallivanting off to Paris ?
    "No," I said. "I haven't."
    "You should," he said, "you'd love it."
    Something about his voice wrapped around me and almost made me forget why I was there. It tugged at me, drawing me in.
    "Look Mr…."
    "Matt. Call me Matt."
    "Okay, Matt," I said. "The library is closing. I just came to make sure no one was left behind."
    "What?" He said. His eyes grew wide. "Why are you closing?"
    "The forecast says there's going to be some kind of blizzard coming, so we have to close early today."
    Matt's face fell. He closed closed the book in his hand and nearly returned it to the shelf. But then he stopped.
    "I know it probably doesn't matter to you, but I've been planning this trip for a long time. I wanted to spend the whole day here," he said. "Do you think you can give me just a little bit more time?"
    Something about the tone of his plea hit me. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was actually a good-looking guy interested in books. I didn't want to admit it, but I didn't mind spending just a bit more time with him. Still, we weren't supposed to stay.
    I hesitated.
    "How about this? I bet there is a book in here that even you didn't