Page 38 of Let Me Be Your Hero
Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes. But he didn’t seem to notice that she was overcome, because he continued talking, as if everything was normal and he was not making one of her fondest, most impossible dreams come true. “We’ll have the bookcases custom-made so they fit perfectly. And I’ll build you a rail running around each level, and we can attach some ladderson wheels. That way, when you need to get a book down, you’ll have a ladder readily at hand.”
She managed to form the words, “Could you really build something like that?”
He laughed. “Of course. Something like that would be easy. You should see the things I usually…ahem.” He broke off suddenly, rubbing the back of his head.
She gazed about the room, picturing it. This would truly be her dream library.
But the thing that had her turning as mushy as a blancmange wasn’t how magnificent the room would look when it was finished. It was the fact that Archibald had thought of it at all. That he cared so much about her being happy in this, her new home.
He also thought that her writing was important enough to have its own space. He didn’t expect her to squeeze a tiny desk into her dressing room, or work on it in the morning room with a parade of visitors streaming in and out around her.
She felt a tear slip down her cheek and wiped it away with her thumb. She couldn’tbelieveher good fortune. Not only was Archibald not furious with her, but he was also building her this wonderful library.
How had she been so ridiculously lucky, that she got to marry this man?
Archibald frowned. “I should say that these are only suggestions. This is to be your room, and if you would prefer something else—”
“No,” Izzie sniffed. “I would not prefer something else. I would prefer exactly what you just described.”
She threw her arms around his neck.
CHAPTER 19
Archibald was stunned insensible as Izzie threw herself into his arms. Which was more or less how he always felt when he found himself in close proximity with her.
But today, it was particularly hard to think about anything other than touching her, with her delicate curves outlined by her borrowed breeches and her hair tumbling down her back in raven-dark waves.
His frazzled brain registered that she was speaking. “This is the kindest, the most thoughtful… the absolute best present anyone has ever given me.” She pulled back enough that he could see her face, and although her eyes were damp, she was smiling. “I’ve always dreamed of having a library just like this. Thank you.”
“Good,” he said gruffly. “And you’re very welcome.”
So, they were happy tears. He’d been worried for a second there.
God, but it was gratifying to have done something right, for once, where a woman was concerned.
Izzie kissed him on the cheek, then skipped out of his embrace. It seemed that the crying spell had passed. She tipped her head back to the vaulted ceiling and twirled in a circle.
He wanted to take her shopping for the books she would need to fill her floor-to-ceiling bookshelves personally, especially if there was any chance she would look at him likethatagain…
He cleared his throat. “I’ll bring an architect in to start working on the gallery. And whenever you’re ready, we can go to Chippendale’s, or any cabinet maker you prefer, and you can select the designs you’d like for the furniture.”
He’d expected her to be excited at the prospect, but her face fell. “I would love that, but I’m not sure I can go. Leastwise, not until they catch whoever’s trying to kill me.”
Well done, Archibald. Just when she was feeling happy again, you had to go and remind her about her problems.
He rubbed the back of his head. “Hopefully that situation will be resolved in the next few days. And if it’s not, the furniture makers can come here with their design books.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” She laughed. “I’m just eager to get started. It’s going to beperfect.”
Archibald smiled, relieved. “Almost perfect. It might be a little loud.”
She tilted her head. “I haven’t noticed any noise.”
“Not right now, no. But seeing as my workshop is across the hall—”
“Your workshop?” She grabbed his hand and towed him toward the door. “I can’t wait to see it!”
Shit. Why had he gone and said that? The last thing he could let her do was see his workshop. For one, he was supposed to be concealing the grimy nature of his work. But what was even worse, it would all be over if Izzie discovered that his notion of a passion project involved makingscrews.
