“A game?”
“A game,” Xander confirmed and he dropped his arm, ready to release her into the literary maze. “It’s quite simple. We split up and find our three favorite novels. Then we meet back up and trade. They have to be your favorites, though. Don’t try and find something you think I might like.”
It sounded easy enough. But how would she choose a favorite? Or in this case, three? “Okay, my favorites. Got it. When and where do we meet back up?”
“Ten minutes.” He glanced around thoughtfully then pointed at an empty table next to a window. “Let’s meet over there.”
“Ten minutes.” Leila headed for one of the aisles. “I’ll beat you.”
Xander walked off in the other direction, flashing her an impish smile.
What was he up to? It was a cute idea, picking out books for each other. But he was being suspiciously coy about it. Either he had a brilliant book in mind for her to read, or he had something else up his sleeve. With a shake of her head, she browsed the aisles, fingering the spines of books both old and new. Some with plastic coverings and others left bare. Spines bent and others hardly cracked.
After a few minutes of browsing, she filled her arms with three giant volumes that strained her biceps. Hopefully Xander liked long books. He would be entertained for hours on end, in any case.
Satisfied with her stack of monoliths, she whirled around. She gasped and nearly dropped her books, not expecting to see Xander standing at the end of the aisle. She took a deep breath to calm herself down. He watched her with a glint of amusement in his eyes, holding his hands behind his back. As much as he was enjoying himself with his little secret, it was starting to drive her crazy.
“I thought we would meet at that table?” she hissed.
“Someone’s sitting there now.”
She pursed her lips and took a few steps toward him. “Well, did you have to sneak up on me?”
“I wasn’t sneaking. You just weren’t paying attention.” A roguish smile spread across his face. Oh goodness, he was so handsome. “Are you finished, then?”
“Yep. How about you?”
“I’ve been done for the last nine minutes.”
“Oh really?” She lifted her chin. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Still grinning, he brought his hands out from behind his back. In them he held a brown leather book.
As if made of lead, her jaw dropped. Not taking her eyes off the book in his hands, she set the three books in her arms onto the nearest shelf.
“Is it really…?” she whispered as she lightly took the book from his hands.
“It is,” she heard Xander say softly. Unable to tear her gaze away, she flipped it open and read her father’s note on the inside cover, addressed to her. She couldn’t believe it. It was the Bible her father had given to her when she was sixteen, days before he’d passed away. Amir had stolen it from her room and when she’d asked for it back, he said he’d destroyed it.
It had acquired new dents and scratches, some of the pages were unceremoniously creased, and there was a large liquid stain on the cover. But it was hers.
“He said he threw it in the Nile.” Finally, she looked up at Xander, clutching the Bible to her chest. “Where did you find this?”
“Your mum found it, actually,” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I asked her if she’d seen it around, in Amir’s things. A few weeks later, it came in the post.”
Her vision blurred. A piece of her father, finally in her hands again. She threw her arms around Xander’s neck. “Thank you so much. I thought it was gone forever.”
His arms wrapped around her, he buried his nose in her hair. “I figured it was worth asking. Amir lied about literally everything.”
He pulled back, only to cusp her chin with one hand and gently lift. His mouth brushed against hers and his hand raked through her hair, coming to a rest at the back of her head. She leaned into him, deepening the kiss as she lost herself in the feel of his lips, the grasp of his hand on her waist, and the woodsy scent of his cologne.
Before she let herself get carried away, and before someone saw them, she pulled back and pressed a finger to his lips. “No PDA in Egypt, remember? Or do you want to get punched in the face again?”
“Well, no. But that was different.”
“That’s true. But you know how it is. Let’s not risk it.” Leila slipped her hand into his, still holding the Bible to her chest with the other. “Up for an early dinner?”
“Yeah, good idea.” They started for the exit. “What are you in the mood for?”
Leila couldn’t stop smiling, her steps light with a slight bounce. “How about some take-out? Or—no. I could cook you something.”
“Ooh. Er, no, you don’t have to go through all the trouble. Actually, take-out would be great.”
She gave him a sideways glance as they walked back out the glass doors and onto the terrace. After being inside the cool library, it was like an oven outside.
“My cooking isn’t that bad.”
“Did I say it was? I did not.”
“Wait.” She tugged his arm and they stopped. “What about your books?”
“Oh, sorry. That was all a ruse.” He reached up and flicked the tip of her nose. “Got to keep you on your toes somehow. I’ll check them out next time.”
He was so full of it. But she didn’t mind. Things were never boring when he was around.
“So, what are you hungry for?” she asked.
“There’s that nice falafel place on the way to your flat.”
