university students, stood before them.
“Welcome to Hamilton’s!” Colette called brightly through clenched teeth. “How can we help you today?”
Paulette quickly turned her back and tried to compose herself, taking a deep breath and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
The taller of the two men answered, “We need a book for our history class. Here is the title.” He handed a piece of paper with handwriting on it to Colette.
“Oh, yes. I believe we have that textbook in the history section, just over there. Do you see the sign?” Colette pointed out to them the placard hanging from green ribbon with the word “History” elegantly painted in black. “Look on the third shelf and I shall be right with you.”
The two students walked away and Colette hissed at her, “You must stay away from that man, Paulette. He might be very dangerous.”
“I was not planning to see him again,” Paulette responded, sounding somewhat defensive.
“Good! We’ll discuss this at home later. Don’t forget that Lisette is joining us at Devon House this evening.”
Colette moved around the counter, on her way to help the two students, when the door opened and an elderly lady entered the shop. The quiet of the morning ended and Paulette gratefully lost herself in the usual business of selling books. They were so busy for a good portion of the day that she pushed the tempting thoughts of Declan Reeves, the Earl of Cashelmore, and his kisses to the back of her mind and occupied herself with the needs of the bookshop. They did brisk business that day and Paulette was thankful that Lizzie returned to help when Colette left early to take care of her son.
When Lizzie finally departed at the end of the day, Paulette was left to close up the shop. Alone once more, the events of the morning and her kiss with Declan all came back to her. Certain a discussion with Colette awaited her at Devon House, Paulette was in no hurry to go home even though Lisette was visiting. As the long, lazy rays of the sun sunk low in the August sky, the shop was shrouded in stillness and Paulette soaked up the silence.
She sat on one of the two high stools behind the front counter and stared at the ledger in front of her that accounted for the day’s sales in her neat handwriting. Long columns of numbers swam before her eyes. She usually tallied them up with a skill and efficiency that surprised most people. Now, however, Paulette couldn’t add together two plus two. Just as she had that morning, she simply could not focus on the figures.
Her mind could only think of Declan Reeves and how it felt to be kissed by him.
The novelty of her first kiss filled her with wonder. She had definitely enjoyed the experience and would not mind kissing him again. But was it kissing Declan specifically or would it be the same kissing some other man? She had never had a beau or anyone call on her before. Not that men weren’t attracted to her. To the contrary, there had been a few gentlemen who expressed their interest in calling on her to Lucien, but Paulette had refused them. So she had to assume it was only Declan she’d wanted to kiss.
He said he would return to the shop. As she recalled his remark her heart fluttered. He intended to see her alone and call her by her name. And part of her was thrilled by that knowledge.
The other part of her was terrified. Absolutely terrified. What did she really know about Declan Reeves? He was a widower. He was from Ireland and a member of the aristocracy, although that hardly mattered to her. Seemingly, he was a caring father who read to his young daughter. He liked books. Oh, and the man was quite skilled at kissing.
And he may have murdered his wife.
Paulette had always believed herself to be an expert judge of character. She knew Lucien Sinclair was a good man as soon as she met him, and she had been right about that. She had always distrusted her Uncle Randall and had been proven correct on that account time and
“Welcome to Hamilton’s!” Colette called brightly through clenched teeth. “How can we help you today?”
Paulette quickly turned her back and tried to compose herself, taking a deep breath and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
The taller of the two men answered, “We need a book for our history class. Here is the title.” He handed a piece of paper with handwriting on it to Colette.
“Oh, yes. I believe we have that textbook in the history section, just over there. Do you see the sign?” Colette pointed out to them the placard hanging from green ribbon with the word “History” elegantly painted in black. “Look on the third shelf and I shall be right with you.”
The two students walked away and Colette hissed at her, “You must stay away from that man, Paulette. He might be very dangerous.”
“I was not planning to see him again,” Paulette responded, sounding somewhat defensive.
“Good! We’ll discuss this at home later. Don’t forget that Lisette is joining us at Devon House this evening.”
Colette moved around the counter, on her way to help the two students, when the door opened and an elderly lady entered the shop. The quiet of the morning ended and Paulette gratefully lost herself in the usual business of selling books. They were so busy for a good portion of the day that she pushed the tempting thoughts of Declan Reeves, the Earl of Cashelmore, and his kisses to the back of her mind and occupied herself with the needs of the bookshop. They did brisk business that day and Paulette was thankful that Lizzie returned to help when Colette left early to take care of her son.
When Lizzie finally departed at the end of the day, Paulette was left to close up the shop. Alone once more, the events of the morning and her kiss with Declan all came back to her. Certain a discussion with Colette awaited her at Devon House, Paulette was in no hurry to go home even though Lisette was visiting. As the long, lazy rays of the sun sunk low in the August sky, the shop was shrouded in stillness and Paulette soaked up the silence.
She sat on one of the two high stools behind the front counter and stared at the ledger in front of her that accounted for the day’s sales in her neat handwriting. Long columns of numbers swam before her eyes. She usually tallied them up with a skill and efficiency that surprised most people. Now, however, Paulette couldn’t add together two plus two. Just as she had that morning, she simply could not focus on the figures.
Her mind could only think of Declan Reeves and how it felt to be kissed by him.
The novelty of her first kiss filled her with wonder. She had definitely enjoyed the experience and would not mind kissing him again. But was it kissing Declan specifically or would it be the same kissing some other man? She had never had a beau or anyone call on her before. Not that men weren’t attracted to her. To the contrary, there had been a few gentlemen who expressed their interest in calling on her to Lucien, but Paulette had refused them. So she had to assume it was only Declan she’d wanted to kiss.
He said he would return to the shop. As she recalled his remark her heart fluttered. He intended to see her alone and call her by her name. And part of her was thrilled by that knowledge.
The other part of her was terrified. Absolutely terrified. What did she really know about Declan Reeves? He was a widower. He was from Ireland and a member of the aristocracy, although that hardly mattered to her. Seemingly, he was a caring father who read to his young daughter. He liked books. Oh, and the man was quite skilled at kissing.
And he may have murdered his wife.
Paulette had always believed herself to be an expert judge of character. She knew Lucien Sinclair was a good man as soon as she met him, and she had been right about that. She had always distrusted her Uncle Randall and had been proven correct on that account time and
Similar Books
