The Librarian Principle (22 page)

Liese slipped farther into the water and held her breath. She stared up at the ceiling, the light fixture distorting as bubbles escaped her mouth and caused ripples in the water. Her hair floated around her face like silken seaweed. When the pressure in her chest became too much, she broke the surface with a gasp.

The tranquility of her bath ended abruptly as the sound of someone banging on the front door carried up the stairs. Liese bolted out of the tub and nearly cracked her head on the vanity when she slipped on the wet floor. Nothing quite like a potential head injury to negate any relaxation her bath had achieved. She threw on her robe, cursing as she grabbed a towel to squeeze the ends of her soaked hair. She peeked out the window to see Ryder’s Lexus kissing the bumper of her car, he’d parked so close.

She felt a rush of relief, followed by one of annoyance for even wanting to see him.

The knocking grew more insistent. She dumped the towel on the floor and headed for the stairs. “I’m coming!” she yelled. “Hold your horses.” She flew down the steps, skidding at the bottom as she rounded the corner and stopped at the door. Taking a deep breath, Liese gathered her courage before she flipped the lock.

She rolled her shoulders and straightened her spine, then threw open the door in a dramatic flourish and cringed when it banged against the wall. Recovering quickly, she assumed a defensive stance. “What are you doing here?”

Ryder’s fist was poised to knock again, and it stilled in midair. A look of confusion shifted to astonishment. His mouth opened and he sputtered, no words coming out as his gaze found its way to the front of her robe.

Liese followed his eyes to the gaping V and scowled, drawing the lapels together. The thin silk fabric clung to her damp skin. A cold night breeze blew, and her nipples tightened. They pointed in admonishment at Ryder, who stared right back at them.

“Were you in the bath?”

Liese crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I was playing in the sprinkler in the backyard.”

He stood for a long moment, saying nothing, his eyes still on her chest. Eventually he nodded, like a jaunt through the sprinkler at night when it was almost December made perfect sense. Then he finally seemed to remember himself and blurted out, “I got these for you.”

He thrust a bouquet of flowers at her, which looked suspiciously like the kind she’d seen at the drugstore down the street. Liese glowered and kept her arms firmly secured over her still-hard nipples. She was rather insulted by the lack of effort.

Still holding the flowers out awkwardly, Ryder cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about this afternoon. I wanted to talk to you about us, about our . . . relationship.”

“Relationship?” Liese said with scorn. “I think your conversation with
Tiffany
this afternoon pretty much showed me where I stand. Thanks for the condolence flowers, but I don’t need them.” She moved to close the door, but Ryder raised a hand. She hesitated long enough for him to begin pleading his case.

“I think you might have misunderstood. Tiffany is my sister.”

“Pardon?” She could have sworn he said sister, not mistress or submissive.

“She’s my sister; you’ll likely meet her on Friday. She’s coming to FAHL in the afternoon because she’s staying with me for the weekend.” Ryder dropped his still-outstretched arm. One of the flowers broke against his leg and the head snapped off, falling onto the front porch to land beside his shoe.

Liese pictured a female version of Ryder. Based on the conversation she’d heard, the woman might be a little neurotic. “I can’t believe you have a sister.” She knew she must sound like an idiot, but she’d never seen so much as a picture of his family.

“Well, I do. She’s almost twenty years younger than me.”

“Are you serious?” That would explain his voice when he spoke to her, more like a parent than a brother.

“Completely.”

“And she called you this afternoon?” Liese clarified.

“Yes, she was upset and is convinced she hates our parents. Although, in her defense, they are assholes,” Ryder explained.

“You’ve mentioned that before. I thought it was a lawyer joke.”

“It wasn’t.”

Liese agreed as if she could relate, although she couldn’t; her parents were unconventional but awesome. Some of her anger melted away, turning to guilt over assuming the worst. “I thought she was your girlfriend.”

Ryder scoffed. “I think I’ve proven thus far that I’m not the most relationship-savvy person. I can’t even manage one woman without messing things up.”

Liese could hear the apology in his voice, and as much as she didn’t want to be swayed, she could see his point. She’d jumped to conclusions.

“Would it be all right if I came in?” Ryder asked. “We could talk? I could grovel?”

After a moment she stepped back to let him in, even though allowing him into her personal space definitely wasn’t in line with keeping things professional. “I guess that would be okay.”

She took the flowers from him and waited while he hung his suit jacket on her coat rack. Then he stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking entirely edible. Liese sighed and motioned for him to follow her. Having him in her home felt strange, but nice. Though her housekeeping skills had suffered this past week, and the disarray made her self-conscious, particularly when contrasted with Ryder’s pristine house.

She led him toward the kitchen. He kept a respectable distance, presumably to give her some space. Now that she knew Tiffany wasn’t her competition she didn’t know what to say—not that competition should have been an issue since she was supposed to be telling him they’d no longer be having a not-quite relationship. Depositing the flowers on the counter, she opened the cupboard and searched for a vase. Of course, it was on the very top shelf.

“I can get that for you.” Ryder was right behind her now, close but not touching. Liese sidestepped out of the way as he reached up to retrieve it. “I would have picked up a nicer bouquet, but the drugstore was the only option on the way here. I didn’t plan this very well, I’m afraid.”

“It’s fine. They’re lovely,” Liese lied.

“No, they’re not. They’re terrible, but I didn’t want to come empty handed, and the boxes of chocolate were past their expiration date.” Ryder hovered near her and pulled on his tie. “The dying flowers seemed like a better option, but now that I think on it, maybe I should’ve bought the chocolates since you likely wouldn’t have checked the expiration date until after I left.”

Liese turned her back so he couldn’t see her smile. “I think you made the right choice considering the selection.” She arranged the flowers, discarding the wilted ones, and set the vase on the kitchen table.

When she could no longer justify stalling, she turned, keeping the table between them. “What are we doing here?” She motioned at the air between them.

“That depends.”

“On?” she prompted, her heart stuttering.

“On what you want.”

“I’m not sure what that should be.” All day she’d been prepared to tell him they couldn’t do this anymore, but once again, being in his presence had changed things.

It was as close to the truth as she would allow. She stuck her head in the fridge and dug out a half-empty bottle of white wine. If they were going to have this conversation, she needed alcohol. She filled two glasses and handed one to Ryder.

“Come on.” She moved past him, her shoulder brushing his arm. Even minimal contact made her flush. She motioned to the sofa when they reached the living room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” She left Ryder on the couch as she ran upstairs to put on some clothes.

Liese waffled over an outfit, settling on a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie. She didn’t want to appear sloppy, but a vibe that said “I’m not trying to impress you” seemed important.

She resisted chugging her wine as she descended the stairs; intoxication, though alluring, would not be helpful. When she reached the living room, Ryder was lounging on her couch—looking more at home than he had any right to—and flipping through a coffee table book of erotic art: Marissa’s version of a housewarming present.

Liese blushed, her embarrassment ironic considering that the artistic content didn’t hold a candle to the pornographic images he’d seen on her laptop. Ryder pulled at the collar of his shirt; his eyes widened. He cocked his head to the side and changed the angle of the picture. When she cleared her throat he slammed the book shut and dropped it on the floor with a loud thud. She choked back a laugh as his cheeks flamed the same shade of red as she knew hers must be.

“Interesting reading.” He retrieved it from the floor and set it on the table, exchanging it for his wine.

“There’s not much in the way of text in there.”

“You know what they say about a picture speaking a thousand words.” He ran his hand down his thigh and patted the cushion next to him. “Sit with me?”

Liese eyed the chair on the opposite side of the room. It would be much safer not to sit too close—and smarter. But as much as she didn’t want to give in, her desire to be close to him drove her toward the couch. She sat down, leaving as much space as possible and hoping he would get the message that she hadn’t forgiven him. Not yet, anyway. If they were going to take a chance on a relationship, he’d damn well better make it worth her while. She pulled her legs up, wrapped her arms around them, and leaned into the backrest.

“I’ve done a pretty good job of botching this up.” Ryder twirled his glass between his fingers, watching the liquid swirl.

“That’s a rhetorical statement, right?”

He closed his eyes and let his head drop back, exhaling heavily. “I never should have hired you in the first place.”

“Are you serious?” Liese sat forward, her foot hitting his leg, startling him.

His wine spilled into his lap, and he swore quietly, looking around the room for something to mop up the mess. Resisting the urge to help, she pointed to the Kleenex on the side table, trying not to look at his crotch. He dabbed at the spot with a tissue, which didn’t help his cause much. After a moment he looked at his soaked lap, the outline of his equipment glaringly obvious as his pants stuck to his skin. Thankfully he untucked his shirt to hide the problem from view, allowing her to concentrate on the real issue.

“If this is your idea of an apology, you can shove it.”

“I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I’m not explaining myself very well.” Ryder set his wine glass on the table and propped his elbows on his knees, leaning toward her.

“Understatement of the decade.” Liese retreated further into the safety of the cushions. She had the juvenile inclination to use the throw pillows as a barricade. “You have one minute to stop wasting my time and explain what you mean.”

“You’re amazing at your job, and you’ve done wonderful things for our student resources department from the day you started at FAHL,” he said.

Liese nodded. This she knew.

“What I should’ve said is that I’ve been dangerously attracted to you from the beginning. I enlisted Harvey to make the final decision on hiring you because I didn’t think I could be impartial enough. On paper you were extraordinary, and in person you were . . . more than I could have hoped for. I spent the majority of our interview trying to get my erection and my imagination under control.”

Liese had been in the middle of a sip of wine, which she now sprayed all over him. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Ryder casually wiped his face, pretending she hadn’t just showered him with alcohol. At least the wine was white. “I know it’s disturbing. I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Not disturbing . . . well, maybe. Unexpected might be a good way to put it.” 

“You remember when you came in to sign the paperwork?”

“What about it?”

“Why do you think I never came out from behind my desk?” Ryder’s face flushed as though he was reliving the event. Liese remembered too. He’d been dressed casually in a school-issued golf shirt and dark pants, the latter of which she had only seen when he ushered her into his office. Even then she’d scoped out his behind—and his arms. He had nice arms, all long, lean muscle.

“Oh.” Her eyes widened as she connected the dots.

“I’ve never had an issue like that before. Well, maybe when I was a teenager, but going over a speed bump would’ve given me a hard-on back then.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What I’m trying to tell you, and making a fool of myself in the process, is that the attraction for me was instant. Intellectually, you were my ideal, but when I met you, you exceeded my expectations in every way possible. Hiring you was a bad move on my part because I already found you so enticing.”

“So why hire me, then? Why put us both at risk if you knew I was going to be a problem for you?” Liese couldn’t decide if she should be flattered or unsettled. That he’d suffered as long as she had made her feel a little better.

“I tried to convince myself I could remain professional, and at first I did. That is until you asked me to be your advisor, and then I screwed myself.”

“And me.”

“Believe me, I tried not to give in. If I’d said no to being your advisor, maybe things could have stayed collegial between us. But spending all that time with you—” Ryder’s guilt was evident in his tone. “I devised ways to make our meetings last longer than necessary. It was wrong of me to indulge my infatuation. I thought it would remain one-sided, that you wouldn’t feel the same way for me. I was sure the age difference would be enough of a barrier.”