Heat slipped into her cheeks. Was her interest that obvious? “Uh…” Every word she’d wanted to say flew out of her head. It was so unfair that being in his proximity severely reduced her intelligence. Instead, she changed the subject. “It’s a happy coincidence you and I both like this book shop. Don’t you think?”
“I do not.” He scowled and then returned his attention to the shelf.
As her natural confidence came soaring back, Jane smiled. It was much easier to converse with him while he was on the defensive. “What are you looking for? Perhaps I can assist you.”
“I can manage.”
“Can you? It’s not a weakness to ask for help.” She glanced at the books nearby. He’d been studying… fairy stories, the same ones she’d been after. Her heartbeat quickened. “Which one do you want?”
“Again, I don’t need your help.” A growl infused the words.
“Ah, you’ve decided on being the troll today. How disappointing. Then, since you’ve eschewed my assistance twice, I’ll assume you’re perfectly capable.” Leaving him to his own devices, Jane perused the books on the shelf nearest her. Titles danced before her eyes but every portion of her being concentrated on him: the slightly accelerated sound of his breathing, the way he tapped a forefinger on the armrest of his chair, the tiny creak of the chair’s rattan backrest as he shifted his weight, the clean wintertime scent of him that filled the air around her. His presence was big and bold, and it consumed the space.
Eventually, the major cleared his throat. When she met his gaze, he said, “I’d like to see a book there on the top shelf.”
“All right.” Jane came toward him slowly as if she would approach an out-of-sorts dog. “Which one?”
“The book entitled The Arabian Nights Entertainment.”
“What a marvelous choice.” Did he enjoy fairy tales? Tamping on her inherent curiosity and excitement, she prowled a step closer. When she couldn’t reach the shelf indicated, and with no footstool in sight, she hiked up her skirts, climbed upon a lower shelf, stretched out an arm, and grabbed the red linen-covered book that featured faded gold lettering on the spine. Once on the floor, she handed it to him with a smile. “I’ve not read that one yet.”
“This will be my third time around.” The major dropped the volume into his lap. A muscle ticked in his cheek. “My last copy was lost when I was forced to exit the battlefield unexpectedly.” He shrugged, turning his face to the shelf once more. “Made for a good way to pass the time and avert worry.”
“I can only imagine.” As questions bounced through her mind like soap bubbles, she scanned the shelves near his location. Ah, there was an interesting one. She tugged a slim copy of American folk tales from the shelf. Perhaps not exactly fairy stories but it should prove interesting all the same. The neighboring book flew off the shelf and tumbled into his lap. “I’m so sorry.”
He stared first at the book then at her, his eyes wide with wonder and confusion. “Do that again,” he asked in a whisper graveled with emotion she couldn’t name.
“Do what?” Why was it so difficult to follow a conversation with him today?
“Drop this in my lap. Er, actually on my right thigh specifically.” His hand shook as he held out the book.
“Why?” Jane grabbed the volume with a frown. She held hers close to her chest.
“Please, humor me for one second.”
“All right.”
“And drop it from the same height of where it fell before.”
She couldn’t fathom why he’d ask such an outrageous thing, but she followed instructions. As the book fell, the corner of the spine hit his thigh.
“Bloody hell!” Excitement shot through his whispered exclamation. The book tumbled to the floor.
“What?” God, could she sound duller than she did this afternoon? “What has happened?”
Red mottled color filled his cheeks and crept above his collar at his neck. “I felt that.”
“I’m sorry to appear stupid, but felt what?” She simply couldn’t understand.
The major blew out a breath. He picked up the book from the floor. “I felt the book fall on me.”
Finally, she understood. “But you’re paralyzed.”
“You’re quite astute today, my lady.” There was a fair amount of sarcasm in his voice as his gaze connected with hers. Then his expression lightened. “Yes, I am, so feeling anything shouldn’t be possible.”
“Oh.” She flicked her gaze from his thigh to his face and back again. “If I may?” When he quirked an eyebrow, she rushed to explain. “For research purposes.”
“Very well.”