excerpted from

The Kama Sutra Chronicles

by Kate Carlisle

“Come with me if you want to live.”

The intense, masculine voice came from inches away and Gracie Sinclair jolted. The Library’s ancient stepladder wobbled and shimmied precariously beneath her feet as she struggled to stay upright.

A man’s hands grabbed her waist to steady her.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered, frightened and intrigued and titillated all at the same time. Who was he? What was he doing here? And how did he know her all-time favorite movie line? With his hands clutching her tightly, Gracie couldn’t even turn around to look at him. She stared helplessly at the wall of books in front of her as tidal waves of awareness swept through her.

“You all right?” he asked in a hushed tone.

No, actually. Her pulse was hovering somewhere in the stratosphere and she wondered if she might spontaneously combust.

That’s when it occurred to her, he probably just wanted a book.

“Um, yes. I’m fine, thanks.” Clearing her throat of a nervous little tickle, she said, “Check aisle three, just past the stairway, for books of famous movie quotes.”

“What?”

“Aisle three,” she said again. “Unless it’s the actual film you want. In that case, you’ll find it under romance films on aisle six.”

“Romance?” he repeated with a note of suspicion.

“Romance.” She took a deep breath and continued, “I know most people consider The Terminator an action-adventure film, but I happen to think it’s a wonderful love story. Remember the scene where he grabs her and says--”

“Look, your life is in danger,” he interrupted, his tone urgent, compelling.

Gracie frowned and shook her head. “No, that’s not the line.”

“We need to get out of here. Now.” His hands slipped away and she almost whimpered.

With some caution, she eased around and finally glanced down at the stubborn movie buff. “I’m afraid you’re --”

The most dangerous-looking man she’d ever seen in her entire life.

The already hushed sounds of the Library faded to nothing but a slight buzz in her ears. Morning sunlight pouring in through the windows warmed and softened the room to a misty glow, narrowing her field of vision until the only thing she saw was him. And his eyes. Blue, riveting, completely focused on her.

Greek gods, she thought vaguely. Mythology, second floor, aisle...whatever.

He was tall. Really tall, with broad, muscular shoulders and tanned, lean arms. He wore his thick, black hair closely cropped, and his tough, chiseled jaw was covered in at least two days’ worth of beard.

He looked rugged and wild and more than a little pissed off. Gracie didn’t know why he was scowling at her, but it didn’t detract from the rough beauty of his mouth, which was wide and firm, with the bottom lip slightly fuller than the top.

She loved that in a mouth. 

She was staring, knew she was blushing, but...wow. It might’ve been a long time since she’d been properly kissed, but she had a feeling a mouth like that would be up to the task.

And that would happen any day now, just as soon as hell froze over. Still, it couldn’t hurt to look. The man was hot with a capital “H.”

Blinking her way back to reality, she realized he was staring right back at her and she couldn’t help but notice that his dark eyelashes were ridiculously long and full, yet completely masculine. His eyes continued to pierce Gracie with an intensity she’d never experienced, and in that moment, she felt as if she were the most important person in the universe.

She didn’t get that a lot.

So what was a man like him doing in the Fairview University Library at ten o’clock on a Wednesday morning? Besides causing tremors and tingles to shoot through her system like a wayward pinball, setting off bells and whistles and fireworks and ripples of pleasure in every part of her body?

Oh, for God’s sake, Gracie, the man just wanted a book.

She pulled her shoulders back, stood a bit straighter on the ladder and reminded herself that she was a professional.

“Third aisle,” she repeated, her voice still annoyingly breathless.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked impatiently.

“Well, yes,” she replied, recovering some dignity. Just because someone else woke up on the wrong side of the bed, didn’t mean Gracie couldn’t be civil.

“Good. Get your--”

“But perhaps you didn’t hear what I said,” she pressed on, pointing toward the far wall. “If it’s the book you want, you’ll find it right over there in aisle three. Check the seven-nineties.”

“Seven--what?”

She sighed. Library Science was truly a lost art. Speaking slowly, she said, “The book on movie quotes you’re looking for will be listed under performing arts, which is classified under number seven-hundred-ninety of the Dewey Decimal System, or the DDS, as we librarians like to call it. Now--”

“Look, I don’t--”

She held up a hand. “I know. Too much information. I tend to get carried away. Anyway, check aisle three. There are books on films and screenplays, too. And as I said, the films themselves are over in aisle six. We’ve got the special edition director’s cut of The Terminator. I think you might enjoy--”

“I don’t need a book.”

“But--”

“Or a movie.”

She cocked her head, stared into his eyes. “You don’t?”

“No.”

“Sir, this is a Library.”

“I know,” he said through gritted teeth.

“If you don’t need a book, I’m not sure--”

“You are the most--” He stopped himself.

Gracie watched as he scrutinized her slowly, his gaze sliding south, checking her out, all the way down to her not-so-sensible heels, then back up again. It was excruciating. And rude. And...electrifying. As his gaze lingered in the vicinity of her breasts, she could feel her sex-starved nipples harden with excitement.

His eyes gleamed with purpose as he finally met her gaze again and stepped even closer. “We don’t have time for this. You need to come with me. Now.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. And she was. Really, really sorry. “I can’t help you.” She also couldn’t catch her breath, probably because he was so close. From her vantage point several steps up the ladder, she realized that if he moved a half inch or so closer, his mouth would meet her breast.

She would faint in a moment, but first, oh, she could smell him. Clean. Woodsy. With a hint of...leather?

Oh, mercy.

Her stomach actually fluttered, she was so turned on. If she fainted, would he catch her? Put his hands on her again? Please?

She coughed lightly to clear her increasingly parched throat. “That is, if you don’t need a book, I really can’t help you.”

“You don’t get it, do you? I’m here to help you.”

She shook her head. “But...I don’t need help.” Except for the out-of-control tightening, quivering sensation between her legs. She could use a little help with that, if he wouldn’t mind.

“Yeah, you do,” he said, reaching for her arm. “Graciella, you’re in danger. I’ve been sent to protect you.”

He kept touching her. Not that she minded, really. She could feel the heat of his grip through the silk material of her blouse--followed immediately by a sensation of ice trickling down her spine. “How do you know my name?”

“You’re going to have to trust me,” he said, his patience slipping visibly. “I work for the government. I’m here to rescue you. Get your stuff. Let’s go. Now.”

Well, that did it. She laughed out loud.

The sound startled several of the students sitting at the nearby reading tables, who turned to stare at her. Gracie blew out a shaky breath.

“Sorry,” she whispered, and tried to remove his hand. His hand didn’t budge and it was so warm, so sinewy and strong, so utterly male, she couldn’t let go.

She swallowed hard, then whispered. “This is a joke, right?”

“No.”

“Seriously, it must be some kind of a joke, because if there’s one person on earth who doesn’t need rescuing, it’s me.”

She was the one who was always rescuing everyone. People, dogs, every charity, every school drive, she was a sucker for them all. Cookies, candy, bake sales, wrapping paper. If some neighborhood kid was selling, she was buying.

As a librarian, she helped adults who couldn’t read. In her capacity as curator, she rescued and restored old books.

No, there was absolutely nothing about her life that needed rescuing. Well, except for her pitiful excuse for a love life, but she’d already taken steps toward resuscitating it. Joining the dating service was the best thing she’d--

Her love life.

She stared at the man in front of her, stared at those muscular hands that were ready to hoist her into his arms and carry her away. God, he was perfect, almost as though he’d been made to order.

He’d even quoted from her favorite film. Come with me if you want to live.

And wasn’t it funny that her birthday was a mere week away?

Grinning, she said, “Annabel and Callie put you up to this, didn’t they?”

He frowned, considered. “Don’t know them.” He nudged her arm. “Go.”

She nudged him back, getting into the spirit of the game and delighting in the fact that she’d solved this little puzzle. Her friends had hired a male stripper for her birthday. Cool. “Where are we going?”

“Out of here.”

She laughed softly. “You’ll need to give me a little more information than that. Much as I want to play along, I do have a job and a life, you know.”

His eyes narrowed. “Lady, your life won’t be worth a plug nickel if we don’t get you out of here, now.”

She snorted politely. “I’ll say one thing for you, you certainly stay in character.”

 

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