“A light?” he repeated.

Faded jeans hugged his long legs, and a T-shirt and a leather jacket hid wide shoulders. Dangerous, she thought to herself. And wild. And slightly disreputable. Not the kind of man she was usually attracted to. So why had her breath suddenly left her body? “No,” she murmured. “I-I don’t smoke.”

He groaned, shaking his head. “Oh, you’re one of those.”

“Those?”

He shook his head. “Americans. Now you’re going to tell me all about the health hazards and how secondhand smoke affects everyone and how-”

“No!” she interrupted, insulted by his assumption. This always happened to her. People assumed that as a librarian, she was fussy and prudish and hyperorganized. But this man didn’t know she was a librarian and still he was judging her.

She was on vacation. No one knew her here. She could be whoever and whatever she wanted and she didn’t want to be that person who shushed students at the library and told them they couldn’t have sex in the stacks. She wanted to be worldly and adventurous and maybe even a bit alluring. “I just don’t carry matches because I don’t smoke. And I rarely have need to start a campfire or…light some dynamite. And if you want to kill yourself, I’m not going to stand in your way.”

He stared at her for a long moment, an odd look on his face, her attempt at humor falling flat. Then he chuckled. “Sorry. I’m a little touchy. I gave up the cigs a year ago but when I find myself getting irritated or tired, I go back to old habits.” He broke the cigarette in half and tossed it to the curb.