The second Lydia’s feet touched the nylon carpet in Jonathan’s library, she stepped into another world.
From east to west sat polished, oak shelves stacked with books from Moby d**k to Anne Frank’s The Diary of a Young Girl.
Centuries of wisdom, heartache and romance flowed from the walls, giving Lydia the same pleasure she’d gotten from her travels around the world.
She picked up the tattered paperback of The Catcher in the Rye, its pages discharging a
sweet, musty smell that excited a book lover the way a beautiful woman did a man.
She heard a noise and jumped, shutting the book as Lucian crept behind her. “What are you doing?”
His brows latched together in a frown. “I saw you come in. Can we talk?”
She shoved the book back on the shelf. “About what?”
“I don’t want you to hate me
