"Well, it's not in our library. You might want to try the university.” Her smile felt like a grimace now, too. “They're very helpful, very nice.” Shut up, Chessie. You're babbling.

That sparked a long, searching look. Those dark eyes behind the glasses suddenly seemed not so friendly.

"Is there anything else you're looking for?” Keep a light tone. You do this all day. Don't screw up now.

His smile widened. “No, guess not. Thanks, Miss…"

My God, he's actually asking my name. “Ms.,” she said, frostily. “Ms. Barnes. Head librarian. And you are?"

"Charmed,” he said promptly, his eyes dropping to her chest. “And Paul. Paul Harrison."

You bag of sleaze. Abruptly she was feeling much less charitable, no matter how hunkadelic he was. “I hope the university library can help you, Mr. Harrison.” Her tone was now perceptibly unimpressed. Her scalp tingled with unease. He looked very much like Robert, who practically oozed charm when he was trying to get into someone's pants.

Then, mercifully, Sharon appeared. “Chess, I've got my tea, if you want to… oh. Hello."

The man's eyes slid from Chess to Sharon. Immediately, assumptions were slid into place and the charm intensified. “Hello yourself,” he said cheerfully, changing direction like a champion stunt-car driver. “I was looking for a book."

"Well, you're in the right place.” Share did all but bat her long sweeping lashes at him.

Time for a graceful retreat, Chess thought, and took two steps back. “I'm popping out for lunch,” she said, to nobody in particular. The scary hunkadelic didn't look away from Sharon, who waved languidly, cupping her mug of steaming tea in one pale, slim hand.

"See you soon,” her assistant said, and Chess escaped gratefully. That was close. That was very very close.