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Her gaze jerked up and collided with his at those softly spoken words. Unlike their past encounters when he’d looked at her with teasing, flirtatious warmth, he now regarded her through very serious eyes that looked almost smoky gray today thanks to his black T-shirt. Her inner voice instructed her to stand. To walk to the door. To tell him she was busy, make some excuse about a meeting. To escort him out of her office then close-- and lock-- the door behind him.

  Instead she sat, pinned in place by those eyes, and apparently struck dumb by them as well. Not exactly a moment of shining brilliance.

  He moved forward, stopping when he stood directly in front of her desk. She planted her feet firmly on the floor to fight the urge to give her wheeled chair a mighty shove backwards. Good thing, because all that would have accomplished was crashing into the bookcase behind her.

  He looked about to speak, but then he frowned and peered at her with a quizzical expression. “Are you okay, Emma? You look… flushed.”

  She barely stifled a groan. Clearly she was still blushing and therefore looked like she harbored an infectious disease. Perfect. At least the question jerked her from her mute stupor. “I’m fine, Mr. Gallagher. It’s merely warm in here. Is there something I can do for you? I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time-- ”

  “Actually, yes, you can do several things for me.” He gave her a smile that she’d bet her last dollar made panties melt like ice cream in a blast furnace. “First, you can call me Liam. Mr. Gallagher is my dad. Or my brother. Also belonged to my grandpa. So that name’s pretty well taken.”

  Emma blinked behind her glasses. He had a brother? Good God, there was another one like him at home? She barely resisted the urge to snatch up her legal pad and fan herself. Talk about a biological miracle of epic proportions.

  “As for the second thing you can do for me, you can accept this.” He set the long box on her desk. “For you.”

  Emma stared at the box and pretended her heart didn’t skip a beat. “What is it?”

  “Best way to find out is to open it.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “As library director I can’t accept gifts-- ”

  “It’s not a gift.”

  She cocked a brow. “It certainly looks like a gift.”

  “True. But it’s not. Which you’ll discover when you open it.”

  She should tell him to scram. She knew it. Instead she stood then slowly lifted the top from the box. Her breath caught at the sight of a dozen fat peony blooms in a rainbow of pinks, ranging from the palest blush to the deepest fuchsia, nestled in a bed of ivory tissue paper and baby’s breath.

  “Ohhh,” Emma whispered. She reverently lifted a gorgeous magenta bloom from the box, held it to her nose and breathed in the delicate fragrance. “Lovely.” Before she could stop herself she added, “Peonies are my favorite flowers.”

  “I know. That’s why I bought them.”

  She forced herself to lower the beautiful flower back to its resting place then regarded him through narrowed eyes. “And how do you know they’re my favorite flower?”

  “I told him,” came Barb’s voice from behind the closed door. “And that your favorite color is pink.”

  Emma briefly closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Boundaries. She and loveable, irrepressible Barb were going to have to have another chat about boundaries in the work place. Yet, just like their last chat on the subject, Emma suspected it wouldn’t do any good. Barb was Barb and that’s all there was to it.

  After clearing her throat Emma looked at him with her best repressive librarian expression. “I thought you said these weren’t a gift.”

  “They’re not. They’re a bribe.”

  “Oh? You have overdue book fines you want to me to forgive?”

  “No.” One corner of his mouth quirked upward. “But it’s good to know that if I did, flowers would do the trick.”

  “Actually, they wouldn’t do the trick at all.” Oh, they so would, you big fat liar, her inner voice whispered.

  “Okay. I’ll make sure I return my books on time. The bribe concerns our dinner date tonight.”

  Emma frowned. “We don’t have a dinner date tonight.”

  “I know. Which is why I’m here. With flowers. Your favorite flowers. To correct that situation.” He dipped his chin and shot her a look that was all big puppy-dog eyes and winsome gorgeousness. So unfair! “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  The fact that his offer was so tempting really annoyed her. “Thank you for the invitation, but I don’t-- ”

  “Date firemen. I know. I’m asking you to make an exception in my case. Thus the flowers.”

  “You seem to know a lot about me, Mr. Gallagher-- ”

  “Liam.”

  “Fine. Liam. How do you know I don’t date firemen?”

  “I didn’t tell him that,” came Barb’s voice from behind the door.

  “It’s a small town,” he said with a shrug. “Word gets around. It’d make my day if you told me that particular rumor was false.”

  “Go ahead, make his day,” came Barb’s voice from behind the door.

  “Excuse me for one moment, please,” Emma said. She rounded her desk and marched toward the door. She heard a commotion on the other side of the wood panel. By the time she’d yanked it open, Barb was halfway to the check-out desk, the heels of her sensible shoes tapping a quick staccato against the tile floor.

  “You’d better run,” Emma muttered. Oh, yes, she and her admin were going to have a nice, long chat. Just as soon as Emma got rid of her unwanted visitor. She turned around and gasped when she bumped into her unwanted visitor’s very broad, very hard chest. She sucked in a quick breath, enough to notice that he smelled reeeeally good. Like warm skin and freshly showered man and clean laundry. Then she jumped back as if he’d burned her. Which he might very well have done since she suddenly felt as if she were on fire. She could actually feel the red blotches forming on her chest and neck. Oh, yeah, this day just got better and better.

  “So is it?” Liam asked.

  Good grief, she’d completely dropped the conversational ball. “Is what… what?” She inwardly winced. Considering she was the valedictorian of her high school class and graduated from college Summa Cum Laude, it wasn’t often she felt like a complete idiot. A fool-- sure. A social flub-- definitely. But not an idiot. Yet she felt like one now. And a blotchy idiot to boot. She took absolutely no comfort in the fact that this guy was surely accustomed to women acting stupid around him. She just hated being one of them.

  “The rumor that you don’t date firemen. True or false?”

  He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Say false. “True. So while your gift was very thoughtful, I’m afraid I can’t accept it.”

  “Bribe. And even if you don’t keep our date tonight, I’d really appreciate it if you’d keep the flowers.”

  “There’s no date-- ”

  “ Because I don’t know how to take care of them. I don’t even have a thing to put them in.”

  “You mean a vase?”

  “Right. I don’t have one. If those flowers go home with me, they’ll die.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “A horrible, grisly, slow, painful death.”

  She pressed her lips firmly together for several seconds to squelch the sudden urge to smile. Uh, oh. Clearly it would be very easy to be charmed by this man. She had no intention of letting that happen.

  Stiffening her spine, she said, “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting coming up.”

  “Sure, no problem. What time tonight is good for you?”

  “Good for me for what?”

  “For dinner. Our date.”

  “I didn’t accept your invitation.”

  “I’m sure you meant to. How does seven sound?”

  “You’re presuming an awful lot.”

  “No, I’m just an optimist. And I’m upping my game. I tried the subtle approach with you the last few times I came in here an
d got nowhere. So here we are-- at Plan B. And just in case you don’t like Plan B, I feel it only fair to warn you that there’s a Plan C. And D. And E, F, and G if necessary.”

  Emma studied him for several long seconds. His regard didn’t waver. He just kept watching her steadily through those amazing eyes, waiting patiently for her answer while a myriad of emotions swirled through her. Annoyance at him for not just accepting her refusal and walking away. Irritation at herself for being flattered and tempted. And genuine confusion at his motives. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I want to take you to dinner.”

  “Why? Did you lose a bet or something?”

  Confusion clouded his gaze. “Why on earth would you think that? There’s no bet. Just the fact that I find you incredibly attractive and want to get to know you better. And since my attempts to talk to you here haven’t yielded any results-- understandable as you’re on the job-- I’d like to take you to dinner. Simple as that. Just two people sharing a meal. Totally ordinary, nothing scary. Happens between people every day. So, does seven o’clock work for you?”

  “I’ve already said no.”

  “I’m hoping you didn’t mean it. Why don’t you look at the flowers again and think about it some more? Especially if you’re still leaning toward ‘no.’”

  “You really think I can be bought with flowers?” Unfortunately she stood in grave peril of totally being bought by those flowers. But he didn’t need to know that.

  “I don’t know. I hope so. I also heard you play the piano but since a Steinway would have been really difficult to wheel in here, I figured the flowers were a better choice.” He shot her a grin and a wink. “The Steinway is Plan B.”

  Okay, the grin was devastating enough, but a wink, too? Totally unfair. Seriously. He should not be allowed to walk around without wearing sunglasses. “Again you seem to know a lot about me. I’m not sure if I should be flattered or creeped out.”

  “Definitely go with flattered.”

  Darn it, she was. She didn’t want to be, but she was. “How do you know that I play piano?”

  “Dave Pearce is my best friend. He told me.”

  Understanding dawned. “Melanie Pearce’s husband. She and I have chatted a few times.”

  “Right. And as I said, small town, word travels fast. Especially about newcomers.”

  “What else do you know about me?”

  “I know you had a bad breakup with a fireman so you’re avoiding me like the plague.”

  “True. Which would be much easier if you’d simply cooperate.”

  “I know. But for some reason I just can’t. Here’s how I see this: some jerk treated you bad and because he was a fireman, I’m scum by association. I get it. I once dated an accountant who scared the bejeezus out of me with her constant talk of audits-- and not the good kind.” Humor danced in his eyes. “You’d definitely have a hard time convincing me to date another CPA, let me tell you.”

  Emma truly had to struggle to keep a straight face. “There’s a good kind of audit?”

  “You’d think so, but apparently not. So, regarding your aversion to firemen, I understand. But you’re lumping me in with a guy who, I feel it necessary to point out, I’ve never met-- just in case you’d skipped over that important fact. I’m not him. I’m me. Just a guy who wants to take you to dinner and get to know you better. If after we share a meal you decide I’m scum, at least you made an informed decision. I mean, other than the fact that I’m a fireman, what do you know about me?”

  I know you’re gorgeous, amusing, charming, and have heartbreak written all over you. “Nothing.”

  He shook his head and made a tsking sound. “Given how we’ve already established how things go in a small town, we really need to fix that. Which we can do tonight. Over dinner.”

  “You’re very persistent.” Flatteringly, er, annoyingly so.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you always?”

  “Sometimes. It depends on how badly I want something.”

  “Liam, I find it difficult to believe that I’m your type, so why are you pursuing this?”

  For several seconds he didn’t answer. His gaze roamed her face, his eyes reflecting both desire and a hint of confusion. “Because four weeks ago I walked into this library, took one look at you, and for the next ten minutes the only word I could even think of was wow.”

  “Surely you’re not expecting me to believe that you’ve never thought wow when you’ve looked at a woman before.”

  “No. I have. Just… not like that. And when something happens to me that’s never happened before, well, I want to know why.”

  He reached out and lightly clasped her hand. The sensation of his palm against hers sizzled a bolt of heat up her arm.

  “Do you feel that?” he asked softly. “Because I sure as hell do.” Emma tried to look nonchalant while he studied her, but an actress she was not. “You feel it, too,” he said. “I can see it in your eyes. Tell me you feel it, too. That I’m not totally nuts here.”

  She gently pulled her hand away. Not because she really wanted to, but because… well, surely she was supposed to.

  “Fine. I felt something. It was annoyance.”

  “No. It’s attraction.”

  Darn it, she felt her defenses washing away like a sand castle facing an incoming high tide. “You realize I’m a total nerdy geek,” she said.

  “Yup. And that you probably have all sorts of fancy college degrees. And that I don’t.”

  “And that I wear glasses.”

  “Yeah. I think they look… ” His gaze once again roamed her face. When his eyes met hers, his were filled with such unmistakable heat Emma had to brace her knees to keep from wilting. “… perfect on you.”

  She took a step back, lest she be tempted to take a step closer. “Have you ever dated a nerdy, glass-wearing bookworm before?”

  “Nope.” His grin flashed. “I’m counting on you to help broaden my horizons. So does seven o’clock work for you?”

  “Do you realize you’ve already asked me that three times?”

  “Yes. Do you realize I’ll ask you thirty more if necessary?”

  “I’m beginning to believe that.”

  “Good. Seven o’clock?”

  Emma released a long, slow breath. She’d sworn she was done with firemen. Sworn she didn’t want to date anytime soon. But she couldn’t deny she’d had the same reaction to him as he’d apparently had to her, but really, what woman wouldn’t? Sure, she could continue to swim upstream, but there didn’t seem any point. It was just dinner. She had to eat anyway, right? So why not share a meal with this attractive, charming man, whose only sin so far was rescuing people for a living? No man had ever been so persistent in asking her out, so why not? Her gaze drifted past him to the box of flowers on her desk.

  “One dinner?” she asked.

  His lips curved upward in a heart stopping smile. Seriously, that smile of his should be illegal. “Just one… unless you decide you want more.”

  Emma’s inner voice piped up with a warning that statistically it was very probable she’d end up wanting more. And that he wouldn’t. Leaving her in the exact same heartbreak situation she’d recently suffered.

  But her curiosity about Liam, to say nothing of her thumping heart and on-alert girl parts drowned out the warning and she found herself saying, “Okay. One dinner. Seven o’clock.”

  She’d take the plunge.

  And pray she didn’t drown.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I lounged in the corner of Emma Heely’s office and listened to the conversation between my two humans. I wasn’t the least bit surprised when Miss Heely finally acquiesced and accepted Mr. Gallagher’s dinner invitation as even the most visually impaired person could discern they were deeply attracted to each other. I had the added benefit of actually being able to see the invisible-to-humans sparks bouncing between them in a shimmering, cyclonic swirl the likes of which I’d never before witnessed. I gave Miss H
eely credit for resisting as long as she did, but really, I’d known the moment I saw my subjects together that her capitulation was inevitable.

  An almost giddy sense of relief filled me, erasing my dread at this idiotic True Love assignment. Based on my extensive dossiers on Miss Heely and Mr. Gallagher, I’d greatly feared they’d prove impossible to get together given their vastly different upbringings, educational backgrounds, Miss Heely’s aversion to firefighters and the fact that the women Mr.Gallagher usually consorted with spent more time in pubs than libraries. Not that I was judging him. Certainly not as I myself had always preferred women of a, shall we say morally loose character. So much less complicated. No messy emotions, just mutual physical pleasure. Well, until a husband finds out and you take a bullet to the head.

  In Miss Heely’s case, I knew surprising layers hid beneath her blah exterior. I chuckled at the prospect of her upending Mr. Gallagher and his preconceived notions. Ah yes, the fireman was in for several surprises, and Miss Heely was in for a jolt or two of her own. Of course I would have to closely monitor my humans’ activities to make certain no accidents occurred and nothing derailed their romance-- no more cruise ship, airplane or skiing disasters, thank you very much. With only four weeks to accomplish my goal I couldn’t allow them to waste time.

  But at least I no longer doubted that I’d succeed. Those two were definitely meant to be together. In fact, I’d wager they’d be undressed by the end of the evening, enjoying the endless pleasures two naked people could find in each other. And if it appeared things weren’t moving in that direction… well, I’d simply use the powers at my disposal to nudge them along. Hmm… given that time was of the essence, I might employ my powers regardless.

  As I studied Mr. Gallagher and Miss Heely’s byplay, a long sigh of pure, bone-deep envy escaped me. Oh, to feel desire again! That craving want, that razor-edged need, that pulsating anticipation of a woman’s touch. The sensation of her soft skin against mine. The taste of her lips. The incredible pleasure of my body sinking deeply into hers. But alas, those were all nothing but distant memories as carnal desire was forbidden to angels, as well as those in waiting. Which I personally found to be an utterly ridiculous rule. If we could experience the full ranges of fear, anger, and sadness why not desire? Unfortunately, no one cared one whit for my opinion on the matter.