met the glass. The question was, why did that depress her?
Oh, come on. She knew why.
Because there had not been nearly enough sex—of any kind—in her life.
“I, Katherine Adele Fenton,” she whispered, her breath fogging the glass, “am a cliché. I’m right out of The Music Man. I’m Marian the librarian—hiding in the stacks, waiting for some cocky con man to show up and let down my hair for me.”
Really, it had to stop. She owed it to librarians everywhere, who, she knew, were a much more outgoing, ready-for-anything bunch than most people gave them credit for.
She pulled back from the mirror and then used her flannel sleeve to wipe the steamed-up place her breath had left. She stood straight and proud. “I wanted him to kiss me and I’m glad he kissed me,” she announced to the sink and the toilet stall and her soggy underwear hanging from the stall door. “I’m not afraid of my own feelings. I’m an adult and I run my own life and I do it very well, thank you.” She liked Justin and he clearly liked her and she wasn’t running away from that. Not anymore.
Yes, there was always danger—when you really liked someone, when you put your heart on the line. Things that mattered inevitably involved a certain amount of risk.
Her shoulders back and her head high, Katie marched to the ladies’ room door and pulled it wide.
Justin looked up from his book when she entered the kitchen. The bewildered expression on his handsome face made her want to grab him and hug him and tell him it would be all right. She didn’t, of course. There were a few things that needed saying before they got around to any hugging.
“Katie? Everything okay?”
She marched over, yanked out the chair opposite him and dropped into it. “It was very sweet of you, to sit in here with that book you’re not really interested in and wait until I had time to put on these ugly old pajamas and get into bed. But it’s not as if we had to share a bathroom or anything.” She raised her arms and looked down at her baggy bedroom attire. “And as you can see, this outfit reveals absolutely nothing of my, er, feminine charms. We’re both perfectly safe from any, um, dangerous temptation, don’t you think?” She lifted her head and met his eyes.
They were gleaming. “Well, Katie. I don’t know. You look pretty damn tempting to me.”
“Liar,” she muttered, flattered in spite of herself.
He put up a hand, palm out, as if testifying in court. “Sexiest woman I ever saw.”
“Oh, yeah, right.”
“Must be the color. You know what they say about red. The color of power. And sex.”
She sat up straighter. “Power, huh? I kind of like that.”
In his eyes she could see what he almost said: But what about sex? He didn’t, though.
Probably afraid she’d get spooked and shut him out again.
“Justin?” Her heart pounded painfully inside her rib cage. She had things to say and she was going to say them, but that didn’t make it easy.
“Yeah?”
“Justin, are you after my money?”
With zero hesitation, he replied, “No.”
She peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Are you sure?“
“Yeah. Money’s not an issue for me. I have plenty of my own. Now, anyway. And I earned every damn penny of it.”
Her face felt as if it had turned as red as her pajamas and her heart beat even faster. She did believe him. If that made her a total fool, well, so be it.
He added, “But don’t take me wrong. I don’t mind that you’re rich. Hey, I’m glad you are. It’s always better, don’t you think, to have money than not to?”
Katie thought about that. “Sometimes I’m not so sure. Money can…isolate a person. It can make it so it’s hard to believe that someone might like you, just for yourself.”
“Katie.”
She put her hand against her heart. Really, did it need to keep pounding so awfully fast? “Yeah?”
“I do like you. For yourself.”
She realized she believed that, too, and her galloping heart slowed a little. But she wasn’t finished yet. “There’s more.”
“Shoot.”
“Did you know that I was…?” Oh, this was so awkward.
He helped her out. “Rich?”
She gulped. “Yes. Did you know I was a wealthy woman before you got up on that stage at the town hall and ‘married’ me?”
“I did.”
She blinked. “Who told you?”
He chuckled. “Some of those spectators were pretty damn drunk. When they heard I’d be playing your groom, I got a lot of ribbing. You know the kind. How you were not only a cute little thing, you were loaded, too. How, if I played my cards right, I might catch myself an heiress.”
Katie scrunched up her nose. “A cute little thing?”
He shrugged. “Drunk talk. You know how it goes. And you might like to know, I got more than one warning that I’d better be good to you. They were joking—but the look in every eye said I’d pay if I messed with their favorite librarian.”
That brought a smile. “They did? They told you to be good to me?”
He nodded. “So you’ve got backup, in case you were worried.”
She looked him directly in the eye. “I guess I was worried. And scared. The truth is, in the past couple of years, I’ve had a tendency to let fear run my life. But I’ve had a little talk with myself. Fear is not going to rule me. Not anymore. I…well, I like you. And I think you like me.”
“I do. Very much.”
A sweet warmth spread through her. “So then. I’d like to get to know you better.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “And I want to know you.”
Chapter Five
They talked for hours, lying in their separate beds in the central display room.
Katie told him about Ted Anders. She’d met Ted at CU. He was tall and tan and blond, a prelaw student. Interesting to talk to, with a good sense of humor—and charming, too. Extremely so. Ted had lavished attention on Katie. She’d started to believe she’d found the right guy for her—until she went to a party up on “the hill,” where a lot of the students shared apartments. The place was packed, a real crowd scene. She got separated from Ted and when she found him again, he had his arm around a cute redhead.
“He
