The duke's endless eyes burned into her soul...
The late March sunshine was bright, and a cool breeze blew through Diagon as Padma moved from the corridor to the Leaky Cauldron into the main thoroughfare. Since returning from Spain a week prior, she’d been mulling over ideas, thoughts, anything that might hold a key as to what she should do next. Financially speaking, she was still fine, would be for quite a while longer. But Padma wasn’t one to rest idle. She never had been.
The idea of opening an interior design business held merit. It was something new, different, but it still dealt with the fashionable-- just fashions for the home, the office, living spaces, and not people. Would she be complete pants at it? Only time would tell, but so far, it was the only idea that kept coming to the forefront of her mind again and again.
First, she would need an office. She had a meeting with Brooke Arnold of Foxtons Diagon in an hour, so there was still time to kill. With that thought in mind, she pushed into the familiar old shop next door to Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Flourish and Blotts.
Lysander meandered through the aisles of books shelved from floor to ceiling in the store he’d been visiting for as long as he could remember. Dusting a long finger along the spines, he stopped on the edge of a title he hadn’t read. Most men wouldn’t admit a penchant for romance novels, but Lysander was not most men. He liked to dress well. He liked to be well groomed, and he liked to read mindless smut books from time to time. The plots were predictable and the writing not particularly noteworthy, but they were fun and a bit ridiculous. He liked them. Turning this new offering over, he read the excerpt on the back.
There was a fire in the captain's eyes as he removed the manacles that had chafed at her delicate wrists. Her newly released hands flew to his belt buckle, making short work of it and his salt-stained breeches. With an eagerness that was still somehow edged with timidity, she freed his quivering member.
A barking laugh echoed through the quiet store. “Quivering member, indeed,” he snickered to himself.
As Padma moved through the bookstore, she found herself drawn towards the romance section. It wasn’t that she was particularly attached to the genre; she preferred the classics, really, but she’d spent more than one evening lounging at the Penthouse with her former housemates, drinking and laughing as Mandy read excerpts from her latest bodice rippers.
The sound of a laugh caught her attention, and she glanced up from her perusal of the other romance novels to see a man-- a tall, dark, and handsome one, at that-- in front of the Priscilla Penwright books. Well, that was interesting. The only men she’d ever seen read Mandy’s novels were part of their group: Roger, Michael, Stephen, et cetera.
“Something interesting?” she asked, quirking a brow in amusement.
Glancing over at the pretty dark-skinned woman, Lysander’s lips curled. “Just having a laugh at the many euphemisms Ms. Penwright wields with ease,” he replied. “Are you a fan?”
“I’ve read a few,” she admitted with a smile, glancing at the title in his hand. “Do you read her novels often?”
“Define ‘often’,” he answered with a wink. “There aren’t enough for me to make it a daily habit, are there? This Penwright bird does like her flowery prose, doesn’t she? I suppose the plain and simple terms for reproductive organs wouldn’t be as sexy.”
Padma couldn’t help but snicker at the idea of Mandy without her flowering prose. “I don’t know if it would be a true romance novel without the mention of ‘trembling limbs’ and ‘quivering members,’” she noted sagely. Glancing down at the title in his hand, she said, “Piracy and Pleasure. I wonder... will the captain and the cabin wench wind up together in the end?”
With a wry chuckle, he shrugged. “You never can tell. A twist a minute in these books.” That was bollocks, of course. It was the familiar formula of the stories that drew the readers back. The captain would no doubt get his wench.
“And that’s what keeps you hooked, no doubt,” she commented, lips twitching.
“Absolutely. Unpredictability is the spice of life, after all.” His lips twitched in return.
That was a rational explanation as to why her life had been fairly boring for the past few years. Everything had been predicatable. Well, everything other than her sister showing up with a three year-old in tow. That had been completely out of the blue.
“Indeed.” Glancing over at the array of titles, she said, “So. Have you any personal recommendations?”
“That depends,” Lysander replied. “Are you looking for a good story or a lot of sex?”
Padma had read all of Mandy’s novels. There was little in the way of plot, and they mostly served as an excuse to write as many sex scenes as possible. If she wanted a good story, her beloved Brontë sisters or Jane Austen would have served her better.
But still, she was curious to hear what he would say. “Either. Both. Your preference.”
“Well,” he started, taking on a professor-like stance, “if it’s smut you’re looking for Indecent Indulgences is always a good place to start. If you’re a Quidditch fan, you might prefer the sexual stylings in Plundering the Player. Of Bustiers and Bruises certainly had plenty of lusty scenes, but I’ll admit they were a bit too far into the physical discipline arena for my liking. If you like S&M, though, that may be just the book for you. As for a good story, I’d recommend trying a different section in the store altogether.”
She laughed, lips curling in a smile at his philosophical styling on Mandy’s bodice rippers. “You’ve obviously done your homework. I’m sure Ms. Penwright would be pleased to know she’s a fan as dedicated as yourself.”
Reaching around Lysander, she plucked a book off the shelf and handed it to him. “I’ve always been a fan of Diary of A Duke, myself.”
“As yes, the Duke. Women always like the Duke. Mr. Sensitive Diary Man.” He grinned. “Bollocks, if you ask me. Ladies always say they want a man who’s in touch with his feelings and all that rubbish, but when it comes down to it I’ve always found the strong, manly blokes are the real draw. Not to mention, there’s only one or two uses of ‘quivering member’ in that one. I firmly believe you need at least four quivering members to make a good ladies’ sex story.”
“Actually, there are three mentions of quivering members in that one,” she corrected him with a small smirk. A thought touched her mind, and she paused. Seeking clarification, she asked, “And which type do you prefer? A man in touch with his feelings, or a strong, manly type?”
For a moment, Lysander only blinked at her. Then he started laughing, and laughing, and laughing some more. He couldn’t even be upset about the insinuation. Here he was, in his fashionable perfection, discussing romance novels at great length with more than passing familiarity. “Generally I prefer them with breasts and soft skin.”
His laugh was infectious, and Padma couldn’t help but join in. “Forgive me,” she apologized. “I’ve spent the last ten years in the fashion world, and it’s not out of the ordinary to meet men who prefer romance novels, custom-tailored suits, and beat for the other team.”
There was a sense of relief at the fact that he was heterosexual, but Padma ignored it. Those thoughts wouldn’t do her a bit of good.
He waved off the apology. “Not to worry, I’m sure you’re not the first to assume that very thing. I’m glad to have the record set straight, though.” He held out his hand. “Lysander Montague, 100% straight man.”
With a smile, Padma placed her hand in his and gave it a light shake. “Padma Patil. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Patil. It’s not every day I have the opportunity to discuss great literature at such length.” Lysander’s eyes twinkled with mirth.
“I imagine most men of your acquaintance wouldn’t cop to reading a Penwright novel, even if their girlfriends held them at wand point,” she pointed out sagely.
Snickering, he shook his head as he thought of his friends. Somehow he didn’t imagine Julian or Adrian pouring over bodice rippers. Julian would be too busy ripping actual bodices and Adrian... well, who the hell knew what Adrian got up to. “I confess I may be the only bloke in my sphere that reads these particular books. And I don’t believe many of my friends have particular ladies with whom they spend time.”
“Well, then I’m sure you can consider yourself the most well-versed in your circle of friends,” Pamda said with a smile.
“A distinction I’m sure would impress people far and wide,” he joked. “Was there something particular you came for today? I don’t mean to deter you from your selections.”
“Oh, no, I was just killing time before a meeting this afternoon,” she said, shaking her head. “I just like to check and see if any new novels have come out since my last visit. It’s been quite a while since I was last in, so it wouldn’t be surprising if there were several new ones in stock.”
Lysander cocked his head to one side. “So you’re another long term Penwright fan, eh? I suppose we’re both surprised by her readership. I would’ve assumed only homely ladies with no prospect of finding her own duke would read this sort of thing.”
Sounds just like me. She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “They’re good for the career-driven types to live vicariously through,” she admitted. The closest she’d come to a shag-- or even a snog-- had been reading one of Mandy’s novels.
“I’d wager if you have time to read a book, you’ve time to have a social life,” he posited. “What career drives you so hard?”
“At the moment, none. I’ve recently left my position at Witch Weekly, and now I’m...exploring my options.” Padma shook her head, a wry smile on her face. “Merlin, that sounds even worse saying aloud than it did in my mind.”
He only smiled and shook his head. “It sounds fine. Sometimes life needs to be shaken up a little bit. Not that you’d guess it from me. I’m a happy Ministry drone, myself.”
“Oh? And what do you do at the Ministry?”
“I’m the head of the Invisibility Task Force. Despite the title, we don’t actually stalk ladies’ locker rooms when no one can see us,” Lysander quipped.
“Oh no? I’ve been laboring under a misguided impression. You should fire your PR person. Or hire one, whichever works.” Padma’s brown eyes were warm with amusement. She hadn’t talked to-- or met, even-- a handsome man in what felt like years. She was quite isolated in her friendships, rarely branching out beyond work and House associations.
“I’ll be sure to carve out a bit of my next budget plan to take care of that.” With a genial smile, Lysander tucked the new Penwright book under his arm and offered a short bow. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Patil. I hope we’ll cross paths again sometime.”
“So do I, Mr. Montague,” she said with a little smile, nodding at him. “Enjoy your new book.”
“Thank you,” he returned. “I hope your meeting goes as planned. Until next time, enjoy the quivering members.” With that he started for the register. He’d a book to read.
Her eyes widened, a dark pink blush staining her cheeks. He hadn’t meant it like that, but the implications made her face warm.
Shaking her head and mentally cursing Mandy, quivering members, and her inability to properly flirt, she slipped back towards the door. She had a life to put back on track.
Summary: Padma bumps into Lysander at Flourish and Blotts, where she discovers an unlikely fan of Mandy's bodice rippers.
The idea of opening an interior design business held merit. It was something new, different, but it still dealt with the fashionable-- just fashions for the home, the office, living spaces, and not people. Would she be complete pants at it? Only time would tell, but so far, it was the only idea that kept coming to the forefront of her mind again and again.
First, she would need an office. She had a meeting with Brooke Arnold of Foxtons Diagon in an hour, so there was still time to kill. With that thought in mind, she pushed into the familiar old shop next door to Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Flourish and Blotts.
Lysander meandered through the aisles of books shelved from floor to ceiling in the store he’d been visiting for as long as he could remember. Dusting a long finger along the spines, he stopped on the edge of a title he hadn’t read. Most men wouldn’t admit a penchant for romance novels, but Lysander was not most men. He liked to dress well. He liked to be well groomed, and he liked to read mindless smut books from time to time. The plots were predictable and the writing not particularly noteworthy, but they were fun and a bit ridiculous. He liked them. Turning this new offering over, he read the excerpt on the back.
There was a fire in the captain's eyes as he removed the manacles that had chafed at her delicate wrists. Her newly released hands flew to his belt buckle, making short work of it and his salt-stained breeches. With an eagerness that was still somehow edged with timidity, she freed his quivering member.
A barking laugh echoed through the quiet store. “Quivering member, indeed,” he snickered to himself.
As Padma moved through the bookstore, she found herself drawn towards the romance section. It wasn’t that she was particularly attached to the genre; she preferred the classics, really, but she’d spent more than one evening lounging at the Penthouse with her former housemates, drinking and laughing as Mandy read excerpts from her latest bodice rippers.
The sound of a laugh caught her attention, and she glanced up from her perusal of the other romance novels to see a man-- a tall, dark, and handsome one, at that-- in front of the Priscilla Penwright books. Well, that was interesting. The only men she’d ever seen read Mandy’s novels were part of their group: Roger, Michael, Stephen, et cetera.
“Something interesting?” she asked, quirking a brow in amusement.
Glancing over at the pretty dark-skinned woman, Lysander’s lips curled. “Just having a laugh at the many euphemisms Ms. Penwright wields with ease,” he replied. “Are you a fan?”
“I’ve read a few,” she admitted with a smile, glancing at the title in his hand. “Do you read her novels often?”
“Define ‘often’,” he answered with a wink. “There aren’t enough for me to make it a daily habit, are there? This Penwright bird does like her flowery prose, doesn’t she? I suppose the plain and simple terms for reproductive organs wouldn’t be as sexy.”
Padma couldn’t help but snicker at the idea of Mandy without her flowering prose. “I don’t know if it would be a true romance novel without the mention of ‘trembling limbs’ and ‘quivering members,’” she noted sagely. Glancing down at the title in his hand, she said, “Piracy and Pleasure. I wonder... will the captain and the cabin wench wind up together in the end?”
With a wry chuckle, he shrugged. “You never can tell. A twist a minute in these books.” That was bollocks, of course. It was the familiar formula of the stories that drew the readers back. The captain would no doubt get his wench.
“And that’s what keeps you hooked, no doubt,” she commented, lips twitching.
“Absolutely. Unpredictability is the spice of life, after all.” His lips twitched in return.
That was a rational explanation as to why her life had been fairly boring for the past few years. Everything had been predicatable. Well, everything other than her sister showing up with a three year-old in tow. That had been completely out of the blue.
“Indeed.” Glancing over at the array of titles, she said, “So. Have you any personal recommendations?”
“That depends,” Lysander replied. “Are you looking for a good story or a lot of sex?”
Padma had read all of Mandy’s novels. There was little in the way of plot, and they mostly served as an excuse to write as many sex scenes as possible. If she wanted a good story, her beloved Brontë sisters or Jane Austen would have served her better.
But still, she was curious to hear what he would say. “Either. Both. Your preference.”
“Well,” he started, taking on a professor-like stance, “if it’s smut you’re looking for Indecent Indulgences is always a good place to start. If you’re a Quidditch fan, you might prefer the sexual stylings in Plundering the Player. Of Bustiers and Bruises certainly had plenty of lusty scenes, but I’ll admit they were a bit too far into the physical discipline arena for my liking. If you like S&M, though, that may be just the book for you. As for a good story, I’d recommend trying a different section in the store altogether.”
She laughed, lips curling in a smile at his philosophical styling on Mandy’s bodice rippers. “You’ve obviously done your homework. I’m sure Ms. Penwright would be pleased to know she’s a fan as dedicated as yourself.”
Reaching around Lysander, she plucked a book off the shelf and handed it to him. “I’ve always been a fan of Diary of A Duke, myself.”
“As yes, the Duke. Women always like the Duke. Mr. Sensitive Diary Man.” He grinned. “Bollocks, if you ask me. Ladies always say they want a man who’s in touch with his feelings and all that rubbish, but when it comes down to it I’ve always found the strong, manly blokes are the real draw. Not to mention, there’s only one or two uses of ‘quivering member’ in that one. I firmly believe you need at least four quivering members to make a good ladies’ sex story.”
“Actually, there are three mentions of quivering members in that one,” she corrected him with a small smirk. A thought touched her mind, and she paused. Seeking clarification, she asked, “And which type do you prefer? A man in touch with his feelings, or a strong, manly type?”
For a moment, Lysander only blinked at her. Then he started laughing, and laughing, and laughing some more. He couldn’t even be upset about the insinuation. Here he was, in his fashionable perfection, discussing romance novels at great length with more than passing familiarity. “Generally I prefer them with breasts and soft skin.”
His laugh was infectious, and Padma couldn’t help but join in. “Forgive me,” she apologized. “I’ve spent the last ten years in the fashion world, and it’s not out of the ordinary to meet men who prefer romance novels, custom-tailored suits, and beat for the other team.”
There was a sense of relief at the fact that he was heterosexual, but Padma ignored it. Those thoughts wouldn’t do her a bit of good.
He waved off the apology. “Not to worry, I’m sure you’re not the first to assume that very thing. I’m glad to have the record set straight, though.” He held out his hand. “Lysander Montague, 100% straight man.”
With a smile, Padma placed her hand in his and gave it a light shake. “Padma Patil. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Patil. It’s not every day I have the opportunity to discuss great literature at such length.” Lysander’s eyes twinkled with mirth.
“I imagine most men of your acquaintance wouldn’t cop to reading a Penwright novel, even if their girlfriends held them at wand point,” she pointed out sagely.
Snickering, he shook his head as he thought of his friends. Somehow he didn’t imagine Julian or Adrian pouring over bodice rippers. Julian would be too busy ripping actual bodices and Adrian... well, who the hell knew what Adrian got up to. “I confess I may be the only bloke in my sphere that reads these particular books. And I don’t believe many of my friends have particular ladies with whom they spend time.”
“Well, then I’m sure you can consider yourself the most well-versed in your circle of friends,” Pamda said with a smile.
“A distinction I’m sure would impress people far and wide,” he joked. “Was there something particular you came for today? I don’t mean to deter you from your selections.”
“Oh, no, I was just killing time before a meeting this afternoon,” she said, shaking her head. “I just like to check and see if any new novels have come out since my last visit. It’s been quite a while since I was last in, so it wouldn’t be surprising if there were several new ones in stock.”
Lysander cocked his head to one side. “So you’re another long term Penwright fan, eh? I suppose we’re both surprised by her readership. I would’ve assumed only homely ladies with no prospect of finding her own duke would read this sort of thing.”
Sounds just like me. She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “They’re good for the career-driven types to live vicariously through,” she admitted. The closest she’d come to a shag-- or even a snog-- had been reading one of Mandy’s novels.
“I’d wager if you have time to read a book, you’ve time to have a social life,” he posited. “What career drives you so hard?”
“At the moment, none. I’ve recently left my position at Witch Weekly, and now I’m...exploring my options.” Padma shook her head, a wry smile on her face. “Merlin, that sounds even worse saying aloud than it did in my mind.”
He only smiled and shook his head. “It sounds fine. Sometimes life needs to be shaken up a little bit. Not that you’d guess it from me. I’m a happy Ministry drone, myself.”
“Oh? And what do you do at the Ministry?”
“I’m the head of the Invisibility Task Force. Despite the title, we don’t actually stalk ladies’ locker rooms when no one can see us,” Lysander quipped.
“Oh no? I’ve been laboring under a misguided impression. You should fire your PR person. Or hire one, whichever works.” Padma’s brown eyes were warm with amusement. She hadn’t talked to-- or met, even-- a handsome man in what felt like years. She was quite isolated in her friendships, rarely branching out beyond work and House associations.
“I’ll be sure to carve out a bit of my next budget plan to take care of that.” With a genial smile, Lysander tucked the new Penwright book under his arm and offered a short bow. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Patil. I hope we’ll cross paths again sometime.”
“So do I, Mr. Montague,” she said with a little smile, nodding at him. “Enjoy your new book.”
“Thank you,” he returned. “I hope your meeting goes as planned. Until next time, enjoy the quivering members.” With that he started for the register. He’d a book to read.
Her eyes widened, a dark pink blush staining her cheeks. He hadn’t meant it like that, but the implications made her face warm.
Shaking her head and mentally cursing Mandy, quivering members, and her inability to properly flirt, she slipped back towards the door. She had a life to put back on track.
Summary: Padma bumps into Lysander at Flourish and Blotts, where she discovers an unlikely fan of Mandy's bodice rippers.