Uncovering Annabelle Read Free Page B

soap and masculinity.
    And she was still clinging to him even
though he’d opened his hand. Annabelle hastily stepped back to gain
herself some space and, hopefully, some perspective. Taking her
time, she smoothed her hair back again and pushed her glasses high
on her nose. It was time to stop acting like a ninny. She was a
take-charge, competent woman. “I’ll ask you again. What do you mean
by that remark, Mr. Sloan?”
    Mike tilted his head to one side and studied
her intently, like she was some puzzle he needed to solve. She was
beginning to feel more than a little confused. “The
air-conditioning,” he explained. “I heard it broke. I came to fix
it.”
    Now she was really embarrassed. How could
she even for a moment have misinterpreted his meaning? A man like
him would never be interested in a woman like her, at least not in
a sexual way. If she attracted a man at all, the relationship never
went anywhere. They always ended with her becoming nothing more
than a friend, a buddy, someone to talk to. It was time to forget
fantasy and get back to business.
    “Harold Keats usually takes care of this
kind of thing. What are you doing here?” She really was more
comfortable with the retired Mr. Keats, who supplemented his income
by fixing things for the library. Personally, Annabelle thought he
did it more because he was lonely and not for the money. She didn’t
mind. He was always cheerful and knew all the goings-on around
town. He kept her well informed about local events, but always the
facts and never malicious gossip.
    “Harold had a slight accident.” When Mike
saw the look of concern on her face, he added quickly, “But he’s
fine.”
    Annabelle sank into her chair and motioned
for him to take the one across from her. “What happened?”
    Mike settled his large frame into the wooden
chair, causing it to creak in complaint. It was more of a casual
sprawl actually. He kicked his long legs out in front of him and
laced his fingers together, resting them on his flat stomach.
    “Harold slipped getting out of his shower
this morning and sprained his ankle. His sister took him to the
hospital.” Mike crossed his arms over his chest, bringing her
attention to his hard biceps. “He’ll be fine, but he’ll be laid up
for a week or two. In the meantime, I’m here to fill in for
him.”
    Annabelle sat back in her chair, her fingers
clenching the armrests in a death grip. This could not be happening
to her. She couldn’t take a couple of weeks of close contact with
Mike. He made her hot and uncomfortable when he was just sitting
there with his muscular arms crossed across his massive chest.
Working with him every day, trying to hide her feelings for him,
would be the death of her. He’d be bound to notice her discomfort,
and then where would she be?
    She could just imagine his look of pity when
he realized the staid librarian had the hots for him. She was
thirty years old, but except for a six-month relationship in
college that had been tepid at best, she had little to no
experience with men, and especially not one as potently sexy as
Mike.
    “I’m sorry about Harold, but you don’t have
to take his place. There’s really nothing that can’t wait until he
comes back.”
    “It’s as hot as Hades in here, Annabelle. I
figured you and the library patrons would appreciate a little cool
air.”
    He looked at her as if daring her to dispute
him, and the worst part of it was that she couldn’t. She nodded,
conceding him his point. “All right, but just the air-conditioning.
Anything else can wait.”
    “We’ll see,” he muttered ominously.
    “You can fix it, can’t you?” She didn’t know
what compelled her to ask, but the question was out before she
could stop herself.
    Mike straightened in his seat and scowled.
She squirmed in her chair, not at all comfortable. She had made him
very angry and that hadn’t been her intention.
    She’d often wondered what it would be like
if he’d noticed her as more