Jax spent much of Tuesday in the library, after eating breakfast alone in the small dining room. Wherever Donovan was, he didn’t bother to appear either for the morning meal or at lunchtime. That surprised Jax a bit as he’d figured his host—Or employer, I guess—was the kind of man who would have been watching over his shoulder to make certain he was doing what he’d been hired for. Then it occurred to him that Donovan was undoubtedly at his bookshop. The one he was certain I knew about, as if it was the only one in existence.
He finished the first steps on restoring the atlas pages by mid-afternoon, leaving the process of repairing the tear until the following day. Then, because it was him and he disliked any damage to valuable books—or any books as far as that went—he did a more careful p
