Chapter Seventeen

Emma

The sound of the door opening echoed from the main room. There hadn’t been a knock as Ian had done throughout the day, but even from the library, I was confident of what I’d heard. The sound washed over me in a wave filled with both anxiety and relief.

Was that possible for one action to do both?

Anxiety was for the unknown. Relief caught me a bit by surprise.

Had I feared Rett wouldn’t come or he’d forget his promise to dine?

Straightening my neck and shoulders, I scooted my feet away from the desk. The nude heels I wore clicked on the hardwood floor. Standing, I took one last look at the screen with the words and essence that I’d tried to compose.

The writing would wait.

Something told me that waiting wasn’t one of Everett Ramses’s strong suits.