Emily reached for the phone and then she saw
her, leaning back against a pillar, her registration bag dangling from one
hand, observing the crowd around her, a calm steady presence amidst the noisy
jostling masses. A sensation of relief and something far greater settled into the
center of Emily’s chest. Derian turned her head, and despite the dozens of
people still milling back and forth between them, looked directly at her. Their
gazes caught, and Emily recognized the tide rising within her. Oh no, how had
this happened? Shouldn’t she have known, shouldn’t she have recognized it far
before this? She loved everything about Derian Winfield, everything Derian made
her feel, everything Derian made her dream. Everything Derian made her desire.
All because she was falling in love with Derian Winfield.
Derian’s gaze pulled her through the crowd as
if she’d reached out and taken her hand. Emily made her way to her, the sea of
faceless people parting under the strength of their invisible connection.
“All set?” Emily tried for a casual tone she
was far from feeling.
“Perfect.”
Derian’s hand was on her back again, a
familiar movement Emily realized she’d come to love, like all of Derian’s other
little casual touches that to her felt possessive and incredibly intimate. Oh,
this was so, so not good. And yet so exactly what she wanted.
“Lead on, Tour Guide,” Derian said teasingly.
“Right.” Emily gathered her wits. “Right. We
need to be—hold on”—she dragged out the thick program guide and searched the
index—“third floor, section A-1028.” She dropped the book back into her bag and
checked her watch. “We’ll have half an hour before they open the doors to the
general attendees. Come on, we’ve got a lot to do.”
“We do?”
“Yep.” Emily grinned. “We get first crack at
all the swag. Let’s go.”
“Swag?” Derian kept pace with Emily’s
unerring twisting, dodging path through the crowds. She was clearly an expert
at this. Only half joking, she said, “Don’t leave me.”
Emily laughed and glanced over her shoulder,
jumping onto the escalator to the next level. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
At the top, they stepped off into an enormous
space filled with aisle upon aisle of booths and books. Books everywhere—piled
on tables, stacked on the floor, shelved behind counters, and overflowing from
open cartons. There must have been five hundred booths and five hundred
thousand books. The aisles were still relatively clear of people, with only
handfuls scurrying up and down doing final setup. Big signs hung above the
aisles with white letters and numbers like street signs. Derian’s chest
tightened as she took in the foreign space and struggled to make sense of it.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to take me wherever we need to go. You can
just leave me there while you do…whatever.”