Lancelot by Silvia Violet
Julian
When I got home from work, I showered, dressed in my softest, comfiest pajamas, and indulged myself by turning up my AC since the pants weren’t meant for this climate. They’d been perfect for the years I’d lived in Boston, but like a lot of my wardrobe from those years, they weren’t practical for anything but the coldest days in New Orleans.
I’d planned to watch a movie starring The Rock and demolish the carton of salted caramel ice cream I’d impulse-bought a few days ago, but now I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy that. I was way too keyed up. I needed something more calming. I considered doing a yoga video, but that seemed like too much effort, so I made myself a cup of chamomile tea, turned on some soothing music, and sat in the window seat that faced the main house.
The window nook had sold me on renting the space even though the apartment was smaller than I’d hoped. I liked to sit in the window and imagine the main house as it had been a hundred years ago. I’d made up a pretend family who lived there along with their servants, and I thought up escapades for all of them. It was silly and childish, but it was one of the few things that soothed me when anxiety plagued me.
When my tea was cool enough to drink, I held the cup—one of my favorites that I’d found at a rummage sale—in my hands and sipped as I let my mind spin tales about the imaginary family from the past.
It was dark now, and there was only one light on in one of the windows, but I was sure I saw someone moving in the shadows, heading toward the old carriage house where I lived.
For a moment, I was sure my imagination had just taken things too far, that I was now seeing the characters I’d made up. My story about the young lady of the house slipping out to meet her lover had become too vivid. But after studying the yard for another moment, I became certain someone really was out there.
I couldn’t make out any details, but the figure was definitely too large to be Gwen. I couldn’t think of anyone else who would show up unannounced. It was a man—I was sure of that—a tall man with broad shoulders. Had he spotted me?
I slipped off the seat and moved so I could peek through the side of the curtains, hoping whoever it was couldn’t see me. I hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but my pajamas were lavender, and they might have been light enough to make me visible.
As he continued to approach the carriage house, my breath caught.
No. It couldn’t be. He didn’t know where I lived, and if he’d followed me home, he’d have been here long before now.
I’d seen him drive away, and his car hadn’t returned, but as the man moved closer to the door, the light I’d left on downstairs showed him more clearly.
I didn’t see his monkey, but that didn’t mean the little creature wasn’t hiding in his jacket or nearby. What the fuck was he doing here?
If Gwen had given him my address—
Bang! Bang! He pounded on the door. “Julian, I’ve brought you something. I’m really sorry about earlier.”
He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt now, and even in the dim light, I could tell he looked damn good in them. He scanned the upstairs windows, and I moved farther back. Was he drunk or just crazy? It didn’t matter. The best thing for me to do was pretend I wasn’t there.
He knocked again. “I’ve got a gift for you. This one is really special.” Would he ever give up on bribing me?
What else had Gwen told him I liked? I’d assumed she was his source for discovering my love of flowers and beignets. I’d meant to have a talk with her today, but the little rat hadn’t been there. I’d forgotten she had a continuing education seminar that lasted all day. I could believe he’d charmed her into revealing ways to bribe me, but she wouldn’t have given him my address, would she? I didn’t think she’d go that far. She was very conscientious about safety. She always wanted me to check in with her if I walked home after dark or on the rare occasions when I went out.
He knocked again. “I promise you’ll really like this surprise.”
What could it be? What would Gwen have told him that would be so special?
I heard the downstairs door open, and all thoughts of the surprise fled. I stepped closer to the window and saw the man heading inside.
I grabbed a heavy lamp. If I swung it hard enough, maybe I’d have a chance to take him down.
I heard him coming up the stairs. “Julian? I need to talk to you.”
He appeared in the doorway before I had a chance to hide. I brandished the lamp. “Don’t come any closer. The police are on their way.”
He shook his head. “No, they’re not.”
Shit. I’d always been a terrible liar.
He held out a book. “I found this for you. I hear you’ve been looking for a copy.”
I tried to make out the title, but I couldn’t. “Where did you hear that?”
Shit. I was acting like an idiot. I’d never thought I’d be the stupid one if I was in a horror movie. Apparently, I’d been wrong. I should whack him with the lamp and call the police.
I raised the lamp higher.
He held up his free hand. “I swear I’m not going to hurt you.”
Dammit. How did he manage to sound so sincere?
Maybe he is.
I wasn’t going to be able to hold up the heavy lamp much longer. My arms were starting to shake. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to bring you—”
“No. Why are you stalking me?”
He looked pained. “That’s such a negative term. I thought you’d be working late at the library. When you weren’t, I came here. I’m not a patient person.”
No shit. “How did you—”
He waved me off. “I have a lot of contacts.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I’d like you to come back to the library with me so I can get the information I need.”
I shook my head. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Not at all.”
“You broke into my house because you want me to let you into the library after hours and you want me to believe you’re just doing some research?”
He grinned. “Maybe I’m up against a deadline.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Actually I am, just not one from a professor.”
I finally lowered the lamp. Clearly I wasn’t going to use it against him. What was wrong with me? “This has to be a dream.”
Or maybe I just needed some excitement in my life. How many times had Gwen said the same thing to me? This couldn’t be what she meant, though.
The man was studying me with way too much interest. “I could pinch you if you’d like.”
“What? No.” I took a step back.
“Where’s your kitchen? A drink might help settle your nerves, although I do need you to stay awake for a while. Do you go to bed early? You seem like someone who would, so maybe you need coffee instead.”
I’d had enough. “Get out of my apartment, and don’t come back here or to the library.”
He shook his head. “Cher, you know I’m not going to do that.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Be nice to me. Use pet names. I…” Jesus, how stupid did I sound?
He moved closer, and his smile became predatory. “Would you like me to be rough instead? Is that what you crave?”
Heat rushed to my face. That was too close to the truth. “No. I… I don’t…”
He grinned. “I suppose that’s none of my business. Unless you want it to be.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I’m calling the police.”
“I thought you already had. Of course, they don’t always respond as fast as one would hope. Maybe another call will hurry things along.”
His mocking tone made anger surge in me. I pressed nine on my phone, then one, but before I could tap it again, he yanked the phone from my hand.
“We can’t involve the police.”
Fuck. Why had I hesitated? I could’ve called the police when I first saw him. I could have at least tried to knock him out, but I’d done nothing.
You want him.
I’d never acted like this over any man, no matter how sexy. I didn’t take chances. There was no reason to believe this man wouldn’t hurt me. Why should I take his word for it? Except, apparently, I had. The situation with my father and the library must be making me lose my mind. I needed help.
“You’re really here, right?” I asked him.
The man frowned and tilted his head. “Are you okay?”
Had he really asked that? “No. A man—one who could fulfill my most secret fantasies—came into the library with his pet monkey, then returned with flowers, teased me about solving our funding problem, failed to restrain his monkey, brought beignets, and then tried to…” Kiss me, and I’d wanted him to so badly. “And now he’s broken into my apartment. That would scare the fuck out of anyone. The other option is that I’m hallucinating, and, if so, I should check myself into a mental ward.”
He laughed. “I tend to have that effect on people.”
“Making them hallucinate?”
“Making them question their sanity. You’re not hallucinating, though. All the things you described were very real.”
“Then why am I not more afraid of you?” Fuck. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
His lips curved up into an absurdly sexy smile. “Come on.” He put his arm around me and guided me into the kitchen like he already knew the layout of the place. Hell, maybe he did, or maybe it was just so small there weren’t any mysteries about where things were.
He encouraged me to sit, and he made coffee, not even having to ask where I kept the supplies.
“Just cream, right?”
“Yes.” I was not going to let it impress me that he remembered.
He added cream to both cups, then a huge spoonful of sugar to his. His back was to me, and I couldn’t stop staring. I clearly saw his muscles moving under his t-shirt. I bit back a sigh. His back was so fucking sexy. What would it be like to watch him move like that naked? The thought sent heat all through me.
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned as if he’d known I was watching him. He had to know how fucking gorgeous he was.
“Here.” He handed me a mug, then placed the book he’d brought on the table beside it.
When I saw the title, my breath caught. It was Down by Lilac Creek. I couldn’t stop myself from picking it up. I turned it over in my hands and examined the spine, then I examined the copyright page. It was a first edition and in fantastic condition considering its age. I wished I could keep it.
“Where did you get this?”
He shrugged. “I have my methods.”
“I’m not accepting a stolen book from you.”
He grabbed the book, and I bit my lip to keep from protesting its loss.
“I don’t have any use for it, so either you take it, or I’ll destroy it. We wouldn’t want any evidence of my crime lying around, would we?”
My pulse sped up, and my stomach flip-flopped. There couldn’t be many copies of this book left in existence. “You wouldn’t.”
He arched his brows. “Are you so sure? You seem to believe I’ll do almost anything, no matter how evil.”
Did I believe that? Not really. “You’re involved in something illegal. I’m sure of it.”
He nodded. “I am. More than one thing actually.”
“And you stole this book.”
“I’m not going to discuss where the book came from.”
“You wouldn’t destroy it. Sell it maybe, but—”
“Do you believe I could kill?”
Did I? I nodded slowly.
“But you don’t believe I’d destroy some dusty old book?”
“You’re not like that.” Why was I so certain I was right about that?
“Like what?” He stepped over to the stove, lit one of the burners, and held the book above it.
“No! Don’t!”
“I’m not a good guy, but I brought you a gift. Are you going to accept it?”
“Turn the stove off now.” I moved closer to him. Was there any chance I could get the book from him without hurting it?
“Will you accept the book? Because if not—”
“Stop it!” The words came out choked, and I realized I was close to crying in front of this man who was… I didn’t know what.
He cut the flames and crossed the distance between us. A tear slid down my face and fell onto the book.
“Please take it.” His voice was soft now. “I bought it for you from a collector. I knew you wouldn’t want stolen goods.”
I took the book and held it against my chest as I wiped my tears with my other hand. “You… bought it? How? I’ve looked, and I could never find a copy.”
“I told you. I have a lot of contacts.”
“I can’t… You really got this for me?”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t sort through the tangle of emotions I felt, but I knew for certain I was going to give him what he wanted: access to the archive and… anything else. I was done fighting what I was feeling. Gwen kept telling me I wasn’t really living. Well, I sure as hell would be if I let the man in front of me direct my actions.
I sat back down at the table and took a sip of my lukewarm coffee. “What do you want to look at in the library, and were you serious about helping with funding?”
I thought he might gloat over his victory, but instead, he gave me a soft smile, one that made my heart flutter. Dammit.
“I need to go through some newspapers like I told you, and yes, I was absolutely serious. Will you help me?”
“You want me to go there with you tonight?”
“Yes.”
I studied him for a moment. “That’s it?”
“That’s it, and I promise your funding issues will go away.”
I studied him. We needed millions of dollars. How could he promise that kind of money? “Who are you?”
He held my gaze and said, “Lancelot Theriot, at your service.”
Theriot. The last name alone might not have clued me in. It was common enough in New Orleans, but how many people were named Lancelot. “Oh shit.”