Beatrice decided that no one should be that good looking-especially if they were smart. It simply put the rest of the population at a disadvantage.

“Fine, thanks. I’m fine.” She sighed almost imperceptibly, and straightened her black skirt as she stood. “The Tibetan manuscript again?”

He flashed a smile and nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Beatrice went back to retrieve what she had begun to think of as “his” manuscript and walked out to Giovanni’s table in the far corner of the small room. Setting it down, she noticed he already had his pencils, notebooks, and notes from the week before laid out on the table. He was nothing, if not organized and well-prepared.

“Do you need the spiel?” she asked as she handed him his silk gloves.

He smirked. “Not unless you are required to give it every time I’m here.”

“I’ve seen you here a few weeks now. If you won’t tell, I won’t.”

“Your flagrant disregard of protocol will be our secret, Beatrice,” he said with a wink that set her heart racing. She hated her name, but maybe she didn’t hate it quite as much when it rolled off his tongue with that sexy accent.

She just smiled and tried to breathe normally. “I’ll be at the desk if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” He nodded and slipped on the gloves to pick up the book. As always, she noticed the seemingly incongruent features which only added to the mystery he presented.

His fingers were long and graceful, reminding her more of an artist than a scholar, but the body beneath his casually professional wardrobe looked like that of a trained athlete. He appeared fastidious in his appearance, but his hair always seemed just a bit too long. No matter how he was dressed, she always smiled when she saw his expression, his concentrated frown and preoccupied gaze were one hundred percent academic.