Page 10 of The Purrfect Rival (Enchanted Falls #1)
TEN
T he library stood peaceful in the early morning light, its stained-glass windows casting jewel-toned shadows across the polished oak floors. Kalyna slipped her key into the lock, breathing in the comforting scent of old books and beeswax polish.
She’d arrived early to examine the structural damage without curious patrons hovering nearby. The engineer’s report had kept her awake most of the night—detailed descriptions of stress fractures and load-bearing weaknesses burning behind her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep.
The clock on the wall showed 7:20. Rust would arrive at 8:00. Forty minutes to compose herself, to reinforce her professional demeanor, to remind her fox that work relationships must remain uncomplicated by primal urges.
Her phone buzzed with a text message, and her stomach flipped when she saw Rust’s name on the screen.
Already in the parking lot. Is it too early to come in?
So much for preparation time. Her fox perked up, suddenly fully alert, tails swishing with anticipation. Kalyna inhaled deeply, willing her magic to remain dormant.
Not at all. Door’s open.
She typed the reply with steady fingers that betrayed none of the butterflies in her stomach. Tucking her phone away, she smoothed her skirt—not nervous, just professional tidiness—and moved toward the front entrance.
The door opened before she reached it. Rust filled the doorway, the morning sun creating a golden halo around his tall figure. He wore charcoal slacks and a blue button-down with the sleeves rolled to reveal muscular forearms. Her fox sighed appreciatively at the sight.
“Good morning,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine despite her mental preparations. “I hope I’m not too early.”
“Not at all.” Her voice came out steadier than she expected.
Rust stepped inside. The space between them seemed to crackle with unspoken awareness, a magnetic field that made every movement feel significant.
“I brought the engineer’s diagrams.” He held up a leather portfolio. “And coffee.” He extended a cup from the Sunrise Diner with an almost shy gesture that contrasted with his imposing presence.
“Thank you.” Their fingers brushed during the exchange, and Kalyna had to suppress a gasp at the tiny golden spark that jumped between them. Her fox surged forward in her consciousness, eager for more contact.
Rust’s eyes widened slightly. He’d felt it too.
“Shall we examine the west wing first?” she suggested desperate to reestablish professional boundaries.
They walked through the reading room, Kalyna hyperaware of his presence behind her—the subtle scent of cedar and something uniquely lion that made her fox quiver with recognition, the sound of his measured footsteps, the sense of contained power in his movements.
“The main support beam shows new fractures,” she explained, pointing upward. “The engineer warned the whole section could collapse during a heavy snow or strong storm.”
Rust studied the fifteen-foot-high ceiling, his expression contemplative. “Where does the main crack originate and which are the smaller branches versus separate lines?”
From this distance, even with shifter eyesight, they were difficult to spot “I’ll need the step ladder to show you.” Kalyna retrieved a wooden ladder from a nearby storage closet, positioning it beneath the area in question.
She climbed up, conscious of Rust watching her ascent. Her fox preened under his attention even as her human side wondered if the green blouse had been a mistake after all. The ladder wobbled slightly as she reached the sixth step, causing her to grab the edge of a nearby shelf.
In an instant, Rust moved forward, one hand pressing firmly against the small of her back while the other steadied the ladder. The heat of his palm seared through her blouse, sending a jolt of pure sensation up her spine. She gasped, gripping the shelf tighter.
“Steady,” he murmured, his voice closer than expected.