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“Are you saying you have a book in Voynichese?”
Voynichese is the word most scholars use to describe the mysterious text of the Lenayovitch Tome. It’s a script seen nowhere else in the world.
Unless Gideon has some other medieval manuscript written in it?
There’s a long pause on the other end of the phone, during which I sense Gideon is debating how much to tell me.
Finally, he says, “If I admit that I believe portions of the Elysium Chronicles are written in Voynichese, will you work for me?”
My heart is full on pounding in my chest now. “It might not be provable. Not without access to the Lenayovitch Tome itself. And that has been locked up in the Yale library for decades.”
“True. Only someone with a great deal of money and power could get access. But until then, that same someone might have high-quality digital photos of the Lenayovitch Tome.”
Oh, my.
“So, to be clear, you believe the Elysium Chronicles might allow me to decode the Lenayovitch Tome, one of the rarest, most secret manuscripts in the world?”
This is a man after my own heart. Rare books and secret knowledge are my love language.
“Hmm. Maybe. Are you free for lunch tomorrow? I can meet you at Rosalia’s Grill at noon if you are,” I say. This man is a challenge to my libido, but my scholarly curiosity outweighs my sense of self-preservation.
“That’s fine. I’ll meet you there. Have a good evening, Verity,” he says in that smooth voice that’s so delicious it makes my knees a little weak.
And my panties a little damp.
What the hell? I frown at my reaction, say goodbye, and end the call. I’m not the kind of silly woman who goes weak-kneed over a man. But, oh, shit. What should I wear?
My frown deepens, and I pick up my phone again to call my best friend. Alice almost makes my ears bleed with her shriek of excitement when I tell her about the meeting with the gorgon.
“Oh my god, you’re so lucky! Are you going to charm his one-eyed trouser snake?” Alice snorts loudly on the other end of the line. She’s so different from me, which only strengthens our friendship. We balance each other out.
“I certainly am not,” I huff, although I can’t help the smile that tugs at my mouth. “I’m meeting him in public because all I could hear was your voice in the back of my head telling me to be safe.”
“You’re right. That’s exactly what I would have said. So, is he handsome? Is he the kind of guy you could finally let loose with?” Alice asks, typing so loudly that I can hear her nails hitting the keyboard in the background.
“I guess he’s handsome, in a classical sort of way. Mediterranean with dark hair and tanned skin. You know the type,” I say with feigned disinterest. Because I’m not interested in Gideon. Not at all.
Liar.
“Wait, is this the guy who turned you to stone?” Alice squeaks, finally connecting the dots.
I told her all about the humiliating excursion to the Lancasters, and she had some not-so-nice words to say about what she’d do to “that snake-headed gorgon” if she ever saw him. I suspect that if Alice saw him, she wouldn’t want to do any of those things.
“Yes. Yes, it is,” I finally say after a long pause to think about how hot Gideon was and how he pulled me to my feet with little effort before one of his snakes hissed at me and scared me silly.
“I think you should jump his bones, either way,” Alice says. “You could do with some bedroom time. And I don’t mean sleeping.”
“I don’t need any time with that man, in the bed or otherwise,” I refute with an offended sniff. “And I’m not jumping anything. I’m not looking for love. Especially with a man who can turn me to stone, accident or not. I like my life, thank you very much.”
“Okay, okay. But you’re the one who agreed to meet him tomorrow, not me. Seems to me there’s a little interest there,” Alice says teasingly, the laughter evident in her voice.
“Interest in his ancient tome, that’s all,” I clarify.
She releases another unladylike snort. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“I mean it, Alice. Play nice, or I won’t tell you anything else about him ever again,” I warn, meaning it.
“Fine. I’ll stop. But I know this much; I’d be finding out if his trouser snake has one eye or two.” She sniggers. “Does it hiss? Does it have a long, forked tongue? Does it bite?”She snaps her teeth together down the line.
