Read Online One Night by Marsha Qualey - Free Book Online

session?”
    “Not this area,” she said. “Special collections all close at six. Your friend is back in the study room with Dr. Larson. It’s the last door down that hall. Would you tell the professor that I’ve locked up and gone?”
    There were several rectangular tables in the study room. Most were strewn with books and journals. Tom and his new pal were bent over a map laid out on the table farthest from the entrance. They were both wearing white gloves. Dr. Larson tapped the surface of the paper. “There it is! Do you see how she initialed it, working the letters into the illustration? E.R. Elizabeth Regina. Bully discovered that. Of course, he had his copy to contrast it with, and so this addition jumped right out.” His expression saddened. “His copy has Drake’s initials.”
    “I’ve studied it,” said Tom.
    “Lucky boy,” whispered the professor.
    I sat at a table across the room from them and started thumbing through an atlas while they continued to pore over maps. The professor said something, and Tom happily slapped his hands together in a soft clap. Good joke, I guess. Then Tom pointed at something and replied. The professor threw back his head and roared. Cartographer humor. What a riot.
    They hauled out another map and continued their private jokefest; I began a mental list of notes and questions for Kit. Ask him about Oxford, maybe about this Bully. And what was it like going to school as a kid in Texas? Oh, yes: Skiing in Switzerland—how does that prepare you for leading a troubled country? And just how rich are you? The royal family supposedly drained the Lakverian treasury and emptied museums before it left on its fifty-year exile. Any plans to give some of it back? And one final question for you, Your Highness: What’s so funny about maps?
    Tom had taken off his jacket and draped it on the back of a chair. His shirttail was working its way out of his pants, his tie was pulled loose, and he’d rolled his sleeves up, exposing sinewy forearms above the gloves. He leaned forward to catch something Dr. Larson was saying, and the shirt tightened across his wide shoulders. His eyes stayed fixed on the professor while he listened, not wavering a moment. What would it be like, I wondered, to have those eyes pinned on me?
    Their talking buzzed on. I put my head down on my arms. Okay, somehow I’d figure out what to do and how to deliver him to Kit. Nothing was urgent now. I’d gotten him this far. Out of sight and out of reach of his guards.
    My eyes caught Tom’s. He was watching me now, looking over the professor’s bowed head while the older man studied something on the table. Just before I closed my eyes, we both smiled.
    If I were any closer, I bet I could watch those eyes do their color switch. If I were any closer, I could breathe in that lovely scent. I could maybe even—
    Whoa, Kelly Ray. Remember who you are and what he is.
    You’re a delivery girl. He’s the package.
    *
    Prince Tom’s hand touched my shoulder. Caressing, then slipping down and cupping my—
    “Wake up, Kelly. Time to go.” He shook my shoulder, the hand gripping unromantically hard. I came to from a deep sleep, wiping the drool off my chin before I raised my head. I sat up and looked around, remembering.
    “You crashed hard.”
    How true, Your Highness. “Where’s the professor?”
    “Putting things away and calling his wife. He’s invited us home for supper.”
    Oh, man. No way. Risking a run-in with the thugs waiting for me at Kit’s would be better.
    “I’d like to,” Tom said. “He’s so excited about it. He says he can’t wait to introduce his wife to one of Bully’s boys. He’s been so kind, Kelly.”
    “Sounds great,” I lied.
    He looked puzzled. “You can’t mean that. You don’t have to come along, you know. I’ll go back to the hotel after I’ve done this. I’ll face the music and take the blame. I’ll make sure it’s all squared with your agency. You should go home; you’re