Leather Bound (30 page)

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Authors: Shanna Germain

BOOK: Leather Bound
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‘Me too,’ I said.

Davian released me and then picked one of the photos off my desk. ‘He was an amazing man, wasn’t he?’ he said.

‘He was.’

‘I loved him fiercely,’ Davian said. ‘But we were better friends than lovers. I think he was always sad to see me alone.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I asked.

Davian shook his head. ‘I didn’t actually figure it all out until the morning. Well, actually, as soon as I heard the place was ransacked, I knew it was Wes, looking for the book. And then I put it all together.’

‘Wes realised that raising our rent wasn’t an option, so he came looking for the book on his own,’ I said. Because, of course, if Conrad was going to lose a book – or in this case, hide it from someone – why not right in the midst of a million other books? ‘Oh, God. What if he found it?’

Davian shook his head. ‘I don’t think he did. We should have heard about it already. He’s not the type to keep his bragging to a minimum.’

‘OK, so Conrad hid the book here. Maybe. But why? Why not just give it to you?’

Davian sat in the theatre chair, and I thought of the day he’d first come here, asking for help, and how I’d turned him down. Oddly, if it hadn’t been for Wes and his stupid scheme to raise our rent, I never would have called Davian back. In some ways, I had Wes to thank for that.

‘I never wanted to run the club,’ Davian said. ‘Conrad knew that, if he asked me, I’d only say yes because I loved him and because he was dying. And he wasn’t the kind of man to guilt someone into something. He gave me a sealed letter, and asked me to open it on a certain date and follow the instructions.’

‘The day you came here,’ I said. ‘He wanted to give you time. And to make the book seem at risk.’

Conrad. How I loved him even more for taking care of someone that I was in love with.

Oh. That. I hadn’t expected that thought.

‘What was that look for?’ Davian asked.

‘Nothing,’ I said.

‘Liar.’

‘I just, um …’ I didn’t know how to say it. I tried to dredge up a literary heroine, but all I could see was myself. ‘I just realised I might be falling in love with you.’

‘Really?’ Davian asked, all grin, all wicked, wicked grin. He leaned back against my desk and pulled me against him. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘It is?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to be the only one.’

It was like the first kiss all over again. Only better. Fuller. It carried our lust and this whole new thing, this swirl of emotions that made every part of me fluttery and warm. Forget seesaws. This was gravity-defying. Even the world seemed to shift off its axis.

And then I realised it wasn’t the world. It was my desk, tilting on its bad leg.

I fell against Davian, laughing.

‘Sorry,’ I said. I almost said, ‘Lily must have knocked it loose while she was getting fucked on it,’ but instead I said, ‘There used to be a book under there. I’ve been meaning to fix that.’

I got down on my hands and knees and felt around for the book. It was still under the short leg, but just barely. I pulled it out.

‘Can you lift the desk, and I’ll slide it back – um. OK. Wow.’

‘What?’ Davian said.

I held the book out. It wasn’t the ancient, beat-up book I’d watched Conrad tuck under there so long ago. It was beautiful. Mahogany leather, so soft it felt like it was melting against the heat of my skin. Probably stretched and softened and cured by hand. Cream stitching up the spine. The front was hand-stamped T
HE
K
EYHOLE
C
LUB
. And beneath that a keyhole shape was cut out of the leather, showing creamy paper inside.

There was a tiny indentation on the cover from the desk leg, but other than that it was unmarred.

‘It’s been here all along?’ I said. ‘Right here?’

My mind was moving faster than my mouth. Or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever was happening, I was pretty sure I didn’t understand a second of it. The book I’d been, we’d been, looking for had been here, in Leather Bound, right under our noses.

My heart did that tight thing it does when it doesn’t know what else to do, and I felt the prickle of tears.

‘Open it,’ Davian said, lifting his chin in my direction.

I ran a finger along the cover, over the indented title letters, across the clear-cut keyhole so I could feel the paper underneath. When I opened it, I caught a whiff of cured leather and paper, of the blue ink that covered the book’s pages.

The front page had a single handwritten quote.

‘Keyholes are the occasions of more sin and wickedness, than all other holes in this world put together.’ – Laurence Sterne

A piece of thin paper, newer and whiter than the other, was stuck between the pages, near the middle, and I opened the book there. It was folded in thirds.

I held the book out to Davian and he took the paper from between the pages and opened it carefully.

‘It’s a letter from Conrad,’ he said.

He started reading out loud.

Davian,

If you are reading this, then I hope you’re standing in a bookstore next to an absolutely gorgeous raven-haired woman. You can yell at me later for attempting to set you up, but if you’re where I hope you are, then you already know that she’s smart and funny and absolutely perfect for you.

I pulled back, startled. Did he mean me? Was that what this had been about? An elaborate set-up? I didn’t think that seemed possible, not with everything else that had happened.

Davian kept reading.

But of course, there’s a more serious reason for this note as well. I know you don’t want to lead the club. And that’s why you’re the right choice. And God knows, the only other option is Wes, who’s been sniffing around since I got sick. God, he’s such an utterly self-centred pompous prick.

The keeper of the book is the keeper of the key. I write this, I dream of you at the helm of the Keyhole, with that luscious woman at your side.

Yours (unless you stupidly refused either that amazing woman or the book, neither of which I will ever forgive you for),

Conrad

That was it. Davian folded the note again and tucked it back into the book. He looked as stunned as I felt. Neither of us said anything.

Lily’s approach was accentuated by the tap of her heels.

‘What’s happening?’ she said. ‘Someone fill me in. I’m losing my mind.’

I passed her the book and let her read the note.

‘Holy fuck,’ she said.

Davian and I didn’t say anything, but holy fuck was about as perfect an expression as I could think of. The pieces were falling into place, click click click, like a Rube Goldberg machine. You see something that doesn’t make any sense, but as soon as you drop in the first marble, everything becomes clear at lightning speed, until you’re just left standing there, in the middle of a glorious event.

‘Are you going to take it?’ Lily asked Davian. ‘The position, I mean. Not the girl. I think we all know you’re going to take the girl.’

My stomach looped.

‘I don’t know,’ he said.

I watched his face, the emotions warring in the depths of his eyes. He wanted to honour Conrad, of course. And to make sure the club that he cared about was protected, that it was kept safe from the likes of Wes. But I also knew he didn’t want to be in control, didn’t want to be at the helm of anything.

Although his desires manifested differently from mine and were for different reasons, he wanted to be anonymous, wanted to be away from centre stage, as much as I did. We were the same in that way. And yet he’d taught me to face that fear, to stare it down and say yes to it. It was easier with him at my side, of course. Easier knowing he was protecting me. I couldn’t tell him what to do, but I could show him that I’d be there.

I stepped forward and put my hand over his.

‘Whatever you choose,’ I said. The rest was implied.
I will support you. I will stay by your side. I will share this new adventure with you.

‘If you mean that,’ he said, and he paused, looking at me until I nodded, ‘then we both sign it. We do it together.’

He pulled a fountain pen from his pocket and held it out. It was warm from his pocket, but his hand was warmer as he settled the pen into my palm. He opened the book at the back, where there was a long list of names. Two pages’ worth, with Conrad’s flourishy signature at the very bottom. Davian flipped to the next page.

‘A new page,’ he said. ‘For a new way of doing things.’

Turning the book so that it was right side up for me, he held it out, his palms under it to steady it.

‘I think you should go first,’ I said. ‘Conrad passed it to you.’

‘I’m pretty sure he passed it to both of us,’ he said. ‘He’s rather sneaky like that.’

‘He is, isn’t he?’ I couldn’t help but use the present tense; I knew he was gone, but it was like he was here with us, this man that we’d both known and loved, the man who’d changed our lives in so many good ways.

‘Sign it, Janine,’ Davian said.

I signed it, my full name, in a flourish, leaving room next to it for Davian’s signature. He took the pen from me and added his name after mine. Smaller, more tightly curled. Together, they occupied exactly the width of the page.

We stood in silence, letting the ink dry. Then he closed the book.

‘Not too late to change your mind,’ he said to me. ‘We can just rip that page out, pretend we never found it, never signed it.’

I moved towards him, catching the book between us, inhaling its leathered scent as it combined with Davian’s spice. He leaned forward and kissed me, the kind of deep, lingering kiss that slowed time, that made me want to do nothing else ever again.

‘It is too late,’ I said, when the kiss ended, when my quick heart was still frantic and delighted in my chest. ‘Because I’ve already said yes. And when I say yes, I mean yes.’

‘I’ve noticed,’ he said.

Behind us, Lily cleared her throat, making me laugh. I’d forgotten she was still standing there, probably waiting for a little more explanation.

But all she said was, ‘OK, which one of you two is going to set me up, send me on a wild-goose chase, and then give me the key to my very own sex club so I can meet the love of my life?’

* * *

Lily forced us to go home, shooing us out of the store with impossible-to-resist words like ‘Go fuck yourselves silly.’

‘But Lily,’ I said.

‘Seriously,’ she said. ‘I won’t take no for an answer. We’ve already had a break-in. We don’t need you setting everything on fire with your smouldering glances.’

She leaned in and kissed me, whispering in my ear, ‘Besides, I’ve got a date tomorrow, so you can return the favour.’

‘With Miss Hester Prim and Proper,’ I teased.

Her big eyes went even bigger. ‘How did you –?’

‘I’ll never tell,’ I said. ‘Thank you, Lil. For everything.’

She’d barely released me from her hug before I was tugging Davian out the door, impatient to get some part of his body naked against mine. He had the book in one hand – I had a feeling it was going to be a while before he let it out of his sight – and took my hand with the other.

‘Want to sleep over at my place?’ I asked.

‘Again?’ he teased. ‘Didn’t we just do that?’

‘Well, if you’re bored, then I’ll just have to find someone else to invite home, strip naked and fuck until we fall dead of exhaustion.’

‘Well, why didn’t you say so?’ he asked. ‘That I can totally get behind.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘What I meant was, “Would you like to come home with me and fuck me until we fall dead of exhaustion?”’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I want nothing more than to see you naked, bent over in front of me, looking back over your shoulder the way you do, with your eyes all smoky.’

‘And then?’ I said. My insides were already swirling with heat. I would have backed him against the wall and fucked him right here on the sidewalk if I’d thought I could get away with it.

He lifted the book, its heavy leather weight, and grinned wickedly at me. ‘Oh, I have some plans for that heart-shaped ass of yours,’ he said. ‘Not to mention that heart-shaped heart.’

‘I’m glad,’ I said. And I truly, truly was.

EPILOGUE

The art museum wasn’t what I’d expected at all. I’d spent so much time in dark places lately that I’d anticipated more of the same. I thought I’d be hidden by shadows, that no one would be able to tell just how little fabric there was to my dress. Not to mention just how little there was under it.

But this was a real museum, with real museum lights. The brightness was turned slightly down for an after-hours feel, but not enough to hide anything. Least of all me, in my satin-red shine with so much of my pale skin showing through.

At least I was wearing underwear this time. Davian had suggested not, but I’d been afraid the egg he’d tucked into me before we left was going to fall out if I didn’t. Apparently I could handle getting finger-fucked in a restaurant and having orgies in the dark, but I drew the line at the possibility of a sex toy falling out of me at an art exhibit.

‘Ready for this?’ Davian asked.

He’d stopped me in the art museum hallway, one hand on my shoulder, that creamy caramel gaze tracing my face.

That was such a huge question I wasn’t sure how to answer it. So many things had happened between us in the last few days that my life felt topsy-turvy. The cops had held Wes for questioning; they hadn’t found any hard evidence, but they’d clearly scared him. He’d even offered to sell us the building, if Lily and I could scrape up enough money, saying he wanted to get out of town. We’d taken on our new roles as heads of the Keyhole Club behind the scenes, which, surprisingly, was far more boring paperwork and a lot less hot sex than I might have expected.

Not that I didn’t have enough sex in my life. Davian kept me more than busy, and definitely never bored. I was deeply and truly in love and lust with the man who currently stood at my side, looking into my eyes. I felt like I could do anything with him, go anywhere.

So of course I knew the answer to his question.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘A thousand times yes.’

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