Page 95 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time
Dorian hums in mild amusement. “Wouldn’t be much of an investigator if I couldn’t.”
Selene watches as his fingers work, the metal picks moving with quiet efficiency. What else doesn’t she know about him?
“How do you know which room it is if it’s locked?”
He doesn’t look up. “Had to climb out a window to be sure.”
She blinks. “Youwhat?”
“Climbed out the parlour window earlier to see where it was positioned from the outside.” The lock clicks, and he rises, dusting off his hands.
Selene stares at him. “You make that sound sonormal.”
He smirks, pushing the door open. “Normal for a spy.”
“Is that what you are? A spy?”
“No, my lady,” says Dorian, smiling as he holds the door for her, “tonight, that’s whatweare.”
She exhales sharply and steps inside, leaving the door slightly ajar after him.
The room is cool and shadowed, illuminated only by the dim light spilling in from the corridor. Selene watches it intently, her senses straining, listening for any hint of movement outside. She can hear nothing but the soft rustle of Dorian’s movements as he sifts through the papers and bookshelves, each drawer he opens and each file he inspects producing a soft click or rustle of parchment.
He’s meticulous, his fingers brushing over documents as he scans them, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Selene has always admired his thoroughness, but tonight, it feels like an eternity. Her stomach tightens as the minutes stretch on, the weight of the night pressing on her chest.
She hears voices at the end of the corridor.
They don’t have much time.
“People are coming,” she hisses quietly.
He doesn’t seem to hear her, or at least, he doesn’t acknowledge her impatience. Instead, he pulls a thick book from the shelf, flipping through its pages.
Selene closes the door and backs into the room, figuring that an open door is more suspicious than a closed one.
“Dorian!”
Someone is outside the door. Her heart skips a beat.
“Dorian!” she hisses, more urgently now. “We need to move.”
He stares at the door, then at the window.
Selene is absolutelynotclimbing out of a window. Her breath quickens, her pulse racing. There’s no time to waste. They can’t afford to be discovered—or at least, they can’t afford to be discoveredsnooping. Her eyes dart to the door, then to him. Without thinking, she crosses the room in a flash, closing the distance between them.
Before Dorian can turn, she takes him by the collar of his coat, pulling him toward her and crashing her lips to his in a desperate kiss. It’s reckless, a bold move born of necessity rather than desire, but the moment her lips meet his, the world outside the study falls away.
For a split second, Dorian’s body stiffens in surprise, but then he responds, his hand coming up to cradle her face as he deepens the kiss. Voices are talking outside the room, but in the haze of heat and urgency, they fade to nothing. Selene presses herself closer, her pulse thundering in her ears as the seconds stretch on, her only focus on keeping him distracted long enough to stay unnoticed.
The footsteps draw near the door—so close now.
But just as quickly, they pass. The sound of retreating steps echoes down the corridor. Selene pulls away reluctantly, gasping for breath.
“They’re gone,” she says. “We can stop now.”
Dorian’s eyes are still fanned shut, his mouth open, lips red. “We don’t have to,” he whispers into her.
Selene can’t help but laugh. “Dorian!”
