Eliza Gayle Witch Bundle (paranormal romance), Eliza Gayle [books suggested by bill gates txt] 📗

the library, waiting for the mysterious Mr. Scott, she marveled at the luxurious furnishings surrounding her. She’d crossed expensive marble floors, custom carved pillars, and a multitude of cavernous rooms. From her extensive research she’d learned the financial empire surrounding the Scott family was funded by too many different avenues and products to count. Over the years they’d gotten involved in so many different offerings that it was impossible to pin their fortune on any one business or circumstance. It seemed that whatever the family touched turned to gold, or in their case millions of dollars. A very lucky family, indeed.

The dark mahogany furniture of the room she’d been left in, along with the forest green upholstery and accessories, spoke volumes about the kind of people living in this house. Men. The room was one hundred percent all man. When she touched her finger to the chair behind the desk, she could almost see the man who sat here. The lingering faint scent of his musky cologne mingled with the rich smell of the leather bound volumes lining the walls. Decadent. Powerful.

Careful, Rena. Don't get yourself too wrapped up in this place or the man behind the secrets. You're here to complete the research for your benefactor and get back to the museum as quickly as possible.

Her gaze landed on a framed photograph of four men. Young men, early to mid-twenties, she would guess. All of them appeared strong and gorgeous, each in their own way, yet they were similar in appearance when it came to height and coloring. Drawn to the desk, she picked up the picture for a closer look. The first two dark-haired men looked like twins. Despite their body language showing they were comfortable with each other and happy, their eyes spoke something entirely different. She spied something dark in their gazes as if something was missing and they longed for something more. An alternate path maybe? Rena shook the strange thought from her head. Where did that come from?

Placing the frame back on the desk, she turned her back on the picture, shaking off the weird vibe she'd gotten from it. From the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar book on the shelf and wandered over to take a closer look. Sure enough, it was a recent copy of the Tarot Pedia, not unlike the one she owned herself. Interesting to know Mr. Scott had an interest in the metaphysical. She reached to pick it up…

“Find something that interests you?”

Her arm jerked at the sound of the gruff, masculine voice behind her, and the book plummeted to the ground. She scrambled to pick it up, but in her haste her backpack slipped from her arm, landing next to her feet, its contents scattering around her.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” The gentle timber of his voice was both courteous and patronizing. She dropped to her knees and began collecting her things, stuffing them back in her pack as quickly as she could. Her heart raced. Her head buzzed. Air, she needed more air. Rena took a deep, calming breath, held it for a few seconds before releasing it nice and slow.

“It's okay.” Her voice trembled. “I don't generally startle that easily, but it’s been a long day of traveling to get here.”

He knelt beside her and that cologne she’d scented near his chair filled her senses—sent her reeling. Together, they gathered her belongings while she tried to steady her racing heart. When his hand touched on a lone Tarot card, his hands stilled and she heard a distinct intake of breath.

“What is this?” He turned to look at her as he asked. She got her first glimpse of gorgeous jade green eyes surrounded by long inky lashes, and she thought she might melt on the spot. His jet-black hair just brushed the edge of his collar, teasing her with a sudden need to touch. Despite his polished appearance she glimpsed something more simmering underneath the surface. Even the sexy lock that brushed his forehead hinted to a wildness she’d not expected.

His perfectly shaped lips were currently set in a grim line, but she still clearly imagined them soft against her own. He stared at her intently, their heads so close to be almost touching, and for a brief moment she would have sworn she glimpsed a molten heat of desire in his eyes before changing to a sharper more assessing look. She glanced down, finally realizing he was holding the card in front of him waiting for her answer.

“It's a Tarot card.” She had no idea what else to say.

“I know it's a Tarot card.” A quiet sigh escaped his lips. “What I don't know is what you're doing with this particular card.” His voice, barely controlled fury, raised the hairs on the back of her neck as she fought the anger his brusqueness rose in her.

She grabbed the card from his hand and waved it in front of his face. “This card is the whole reason I’m here, Mr. Scott. You are Graelen Scott, right?”

“Yes, I am. And what do you mean this card is the reason you’re here?” As he gently pulled her upright again, she took a few deep breaths and started in on the speech she had practiced for hours.

“Mr. Scott, thank you so much for agreeing to see me without an appointment. I'm Rena Gallagher from the Museum of Art History in San Diego, California. I’m a staff historian there, where one of my specialties is Tarot History. Specifically Iconography, which encompasses many specialties, of which Tarot is a favored of mine.” She paused long enough to take a shallow breath before continuing.

“Six months ago I was commissioned to study an ancient deck of Tarot cards believed to be completely different from all other known documented sets. This card is from that deck.” She watched him turn the card over again and again as if pondering the meaning himself. She couldn't take her eyes off his