The library was half the size of the living room but the walls were lined with hundreds of books. Some were custom bound in leather, others encased in publishers' jackets, and then there were the first editions— worn, stained, and priceless. These were the ones that were kept locked behind glass. Karen sighed and dropped wearily down beside Shane on the red velour couch in front of the brick fireplace. He looked up from the ledger he was working on and asked, "Are you tired?" He glanced at his watch and exclaimed, "Good heavens, you're probably starved, too—it's after one o'clock!" He closed the ledger and stood, reaching for her hand. "Come on—we'll go find Mark and have some lunch." Mark had joined Karen and Shane briefly at breakfast, but they hadn't seen him since they left him to come to the library. It was a delightfully intimate room, and the hours had flown by as Shane familiarized her with the books and showed her how he wanted them sorted and catalogued.
