Forever As One by Jackie Ivie Read Free Book Online Page B

Everything he said and did gave her
heart an uptick. But, let’s be honest here. She turned men off.
Wasn’t that what Rod accused her of more than once? That’s why she
still wore her ring. No reason to turn men off if they didn’t
approach in the first place.
    And the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen
wanted to talk about mates?
Not just mates, Vangie…but soul
mates?
Maybe when she was a girl she’d believed in true love
and soul mates, but now? Not anymore. Real life gave her a reality
check. Evangeline Harper and Dane Morgan? Those names didn’t belong
in the same sentence. And…soul mates? No way. But…wow. Wouldn’t
that be a dream come true?
    Double wow.
    Vangie sighed heavily and went back to
checking out his cabinets. It was better than her imagination at
the moment. She was a business woman conducting a negotiation. She
wasn’t a siren attempting to seduce a man. Or maybe it was better
phrased as an innocent maid being seduced by a god from Mount
Olympus?
    Dream on, Vangie. Just keep on
dreaming…
    Next to the wine cabinet was a bookcase.
Shoulder-high, with a thick glass front that latched with a little
wrought-iron loop. Vangie pulled one door open and lifted out a
binder. It was old, looked to be bound with embossed leather, and a
bit dusty. She propped it on her hip, lifted the front open, and
scanned the pages inside. She might be mistaken, but this looked
like a full set of stories that compiled the POSTHUMOUS PAPER OF
THE PICKWICK CLUB. Her breath caught at the next page and her eyes
went wide. It was a signature. Charles Dickens. 1836. No way. If
what she was looking at was true, this collection later became the
novel THE PICKWICK PAPERS. And Dane Morgan owned a complete signed
first edition?
    No way again.
    Her hand trembled as she replaced the binder
and selected another. This one was even more spectacular. She was
looking at a beautifully bound book titled THE MODERN PROMETHEOUS.
It didn’t have an author listing, but she knew what it was -
FRANKENSTEIN. She’d heard of the first printing, but never thought
to actually see one. As for actually holding it? It wasn’t
possible! But here it was. In her arms. It really did have a
forward written by Percy Blysshe Shelley. This book had been
printed in 1818 with a print run of 505 copies. And on the second
page, there was an inscription in extremely poor handwriting.
    To one handsome Dane. Mary Shelly,
1839.
    Vangie’s jaw dropped. Her entire body shook,
causing a loose page to fall from somewhere within the pages. She
had to set the book reverently atop the bookcase before retrieving
the page, and if she’d in any way damaged this, she’d never forgive
herself.
    It wasn’t a page from the book. It was a
drawing. Four figures in Regency dress were seated around a table,
playing cards. They were easily identified by someone who’d studied
literature and spent time getting tested on it. There was Mary
Shelley. Her husband, Percy. The poet, Lord Byron. And Dane.
    No frickin’ way
.
    Her mind stalled. Her pulse hammered. She
couldn’t be seeing this correctly. If Dane had a drawing depicting
him with the Shelleys and Lord Byron, it couldn’t have been him.
What was she thinking? He probably didn’t even read. Sex and
sunburn sounded like his creed, not just the name of his bar.
    It was obvious he’d inherited a fortune. It
must include lots of priceless items. Dane was probably a normal
first name for his family. He had forebears who’d known the value
of the printed word and then they kept their books in museum
condition. And handsomeness was another obvious legacy. It was in
his DNA.
    “We have to talk.”
    Vangie jerked, dropped the picture, and then
tried to spin. The carpet height combined with her new heels
tripped her. She’d have fallen if Dane hadn’t reached out and
pulled her right to him, breast to abdomen, hard arms about her
back, his mouth just above her forehead.
    “I see you found my Byron sketch.”
    The words