Uncovering Annabelle (5 page)

“And how are you, Mrs. White?” Annabelle
gave her attention to the woman in the faded jeans and baseball
hat. The two older ladies were as different as day and night, but
they were best friends and often came to the library together.
“What can I get for you ladies today?”

“I brought you some apple muffins,
Annabelle.” Mrs. Casey removed her hat, carefully patting her hair
into place. “There’s more than enough if you want to share.”

The aroma wafting from the bag was
incredible and Annabelle knew she had no choice. Both ladies were
watching her expectantly. “Thank you, Mrs. Casey. You do make the
best apple muffins.” Lifting the bag, she opened it and held it out
to Mike. “Muffin?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He took his time and
selected a muffin from the bag. Never taking his eyes from her, he
bit into the treat. He chewed slowly and licked his lips after he
swallowed.

Annabelle could only stand there and stare
at him. His actions were blatantly sexual to her. Yet, as she
glanced at the older ladies, they seemed to see nothing amiss.

Mike turned to Mrs. Casey. “They’re
delicious, as always.”

Mrs. Casey blushed like a schoolgirl, and
gifted him a big smile. “You’re a charmer, Mike Sloan, and that’s a
fact.” She turned to Annabelle. “Did you get those new mysteries in
yet?”

Annabelle smiled. This was one of the
reasons why she loved being a librarian. Interacting with others
who loved books and reading as much as she did. There was something
extremely satisfying about matching the right book to the right
reader. “I put out some new ones this morning, but I kept this one
back just for you.” She pulled the latest Janet Evanovich hardcover
from under the counter.

Mrs. Casey beamed her approval. “You’re an
angel, Annabelle. You just keep that here and we’ll be back in a
few minutes after we look at the other new ones.” They nodded at
Mike and then hurried off in search of more books.

Annabelle said nothing as she watched them
head down an aisle. Mike slid his arms around her from behind and
his voice was a soft whisper in her ear. “This isn’t finished.”

She nodded her agreement. It certainly
wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

“Have dinner with me tonight.” His lips
teased the outer whorl of her ear, his breath hot on her neck.
“Dinner and maybe more. But only if it’s what you want.” He
continued to trace the edge of her ear with his lips and his
tongue.

“Yes.” She tipped her head to one side to
give him better access. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the shivery
sensations running through her body for one lingering moment before
she reluctantly pulled away.

“We need to discuss the terms of our
relationship, if indeed we’re going to have one at all.” She tried
for a brisk tone, and knew she had succeeded when she caught a
glimpse of irritation in his eyes.

“We already have one and you know it.” Mike
reached out for her, but she stepped back out of reach.

“Not here.” She glanced nervously around the
library, afraid the women would wander back before she and Mike
were finished. “We’ll talk tonight.”

Mike followed her glance and then nodded
abruptly. “Tonight. I’ll pick you up at your place at seven.”

He made no move to leave, and she knew he
was waiting for her agreement. It was only after she nodded that he
turned away. He picked up his toolbox, which she hadn’t noticed
sitting by the side of the counter, and strode toward the front
door. She watched him leave, unable to tear her gaze from his
departing form. The way the man’s butt filled out a pair of jeans
should be illegal. At the last second, he glanced over his
shoulder. “Your air-conditioning is fixed.” The door closed behind
him.

Annabelle slumped back onto the stool behind
her and for the first time noticed the flow of cool air circulating
in the room. Her thoughts turned to dinner tonight and she
shivered, but not because she was cold. It didn’t matter that the
air-conditioning was working because Annabelle was still hot.

Chapter
Three

Getting through the rest of the afternoon at
work was a chore. The clock ticked off the minutes at a snail’s
pace. Five minutes seemed to take an hour. Annabelle loved her job,
but today she wished the workday would end. Somehow she managed to
get some actual work done.

She retreated to her office for most of the
afternoon after one of her part-timers showed up for her shift. Her
nerves frayed at the thought of the upcoming evening, Annabelle was
driven to her secret vice—chocolate. It was for emergencies only,
as it seemed to go straight to her hips whenever she ate it, but
sometimes there was nothing else to do but give in to the craving.
The heat made it impossible for her to keep her favorite dark
chocolate in her desk. Imported dark chocolate was her weakness.
But thank God for those wonderful makers of candy-coated chocolate
that didn’t melt. She devoured the entire bag while she worked, one
at a time, sucking all the candy off until nothing was left but the
chocolate.

Annabelle buried herself in paperwork until
closing time, eternally grateful that it was Friday and she wasn’t
scheduled to work tomorrow. The library was open on Saturday, but
only for four hours, and the small staff rotated the shift.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she
closed the library promptly at half past five and locked the door
behind her. The drive home took no time and she was soon pulling
her little blue compact car into her parking space at the small
apartment building where she rented. It wasn’t a real apartment
building, but a converted Victorian home with four apartments of
various sizes. Annabelle rented the smaller one-bedroom on the top
floor. She would buy a house as soon as one she liked came on the
market. For now, her apartment more than suited her needs.

She kept to her routine, stopping to collect
her mail, which she’d sorted through as she climbed the stairs to
the top floor. It consisted of junk mail and her monthly book
review magazine. What a sad commentary on her life. Of course, most
correspondence was electronic these days. Her mother had always
written letters to her when she’d been in college. Annabelle still
missed getting those envelopes with the familiar handwriting in the
mail. She dug her key out of her purse and let herself into her
apartment.

The minute she walked through the door, she
felt more at ease. She dumped her purse and mail on the small table
just inside the front door and retreated to the bathroom, tugging
off her work clothes as she went.

What she needed was a bath to relax and
settle her nerves. While the water was running into the tub, she
dumped in a handful of lavender bath crystals. The warm water
soothed away some of her edginess and she allowed herself to soak
for a good twenty minutes before pulling the plug.

Her skin felt extra sensitive to the touch.
Toweling off was almost a sensual experience. By the time she was
done, her nipples were taut and she was no longer relaxed.

She was more aware of her body than usual
and found sensual pleasure in stroking the lotion over her legs,
across her belly and breasts and even on her backside. She didn’t
know what might happen after dinner this evening and wanted to be
prepared. She could all too easily imagine Mike running his hands
over her. She bit her bottom lip to hold back a moan of pleasure.
Her skin began to tingle and took on a rosy glow.

Finished in the bathroom, she made her way
to her bedroom. There was no choice to be made about her underwear.
She only owned white cotton. For once in her life, she wished she’d
indulged in satin or silk. Maybe even in a blue or deep purple
color. As she pulled on her white cotton bra, she made a mental
note to go shopping for at least a few new things. Even white satin
and lace would look better than plain cotton, and it would probably
feel wonderful against her skin. Sensual. And darn it, she deserved
to feel that way, even if she was the only one who ever knew what
she was wearing underneath her clothes.

Thigh-high silk stockings would have been
quite daring to wear on her date, but she didn’t own any. Sensible
nylon pantyhose filled her dresser drawers and, with the heat wave
they were having, only an idiot would wear them. So she made the
decision to leave her legs bare. They were smooth and soft after
her bath. She ran her fingers over her thighs and calves, pleased
with the effect.

Her hair was her next dilemma. Put it up or
leave it down? She’d seriously contemplated leaving it down, but
decided against it. She never wore her hair down. That would draw
too much attention to her if she saw anyone she knew. So she
reluctantly bundled it back up into a new bun.

She didn’t use much makeup, so a touch of
mascara and lipstick were all she needed. Now she was ready to
finish getting dressed.

Ten minutes later, Annabelle peered around
the bedroom in utter dismay. There was clothing strewn across the
bed, on the floor and over the wicker chair in the corner. It was
the age-old problem of all women as they prepared for that most
important date—she didn’t have anything to wear. Nothing she owned
seemed appropriate for dinner with Mike. The long skirts and
dresses were suitable for work, but she wanted something that made
her look if not sexy, then at least nice.

She stomped back to the closet and peered at
the few remaining hangers looking for inspiration. Something.
Anything. She wanted to be casual enough so that anyone who saw
them wouldn’t make too much of them having dinner together. In
future, she would cook for them. Or maybe they’d just skip food and
go straight to bed. Why hadn’t she thought of that before agreeing
to dinner?

No. They had to come to terms. Experience
had taught Annabelle that men weren’t attracted to her. Not for
long, anyway. They seemed to like her body well enough, but quickly
found her to be boring—in bed and out.

She was a homebody and saw no reason to
change herself because some guy thought she wasn’t exciting or
flashy enough. Her hobbies ran to cooking and reading, not
barhopping and dancing.

And if she was honest, she’d found the
kisses and caresses of the men she’d dated to be uninspiring, and
sometimes downright boring. She’d begun to believe she really
wasn’t a sexual person until she’d laid eyes on Mike. Then, like a
dormant volcano, all those emotions and yearnings had bubbled up to
the surface and threatened to explode.

This was a chance for her to fully
experience her sexuality, and she was more than ready to explore
that previously hidden side of herself. Especially with a man who
attracted her as much as Mike did. She would settle for a
no-strings affair, one that was their business. No one else needed
to know.

She didn’t think that he’d object. Didn’t
every man want a woman who was willing to have sex with him but
didn’t want a commitment? She thought so. Or at least that’s what
most of the popular women’s magazines bemoaned.

She wanted more than sex. She wanted her
fantasies fulfilled and she sensed that Mike was the man who would
not only make her dreams a reality but would enjoy them as well.
And to be fair, she wouldn’t mind fulfilling a few of his fantasies
as well. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tight around her
waist, trying to envision what they might entail.

She imagined Mike standing behind her with
her naked and him fully clothed. He would gaze at her hungrily as
she ran her hands over her breasts, lifting and cupping them for
his inspection. She would taunt him with her body until he wanted
her so much his restraint broke.

Annabelle was a little bit fuzzy on what
would happen then, but she knew Mike would think of something.
Unfortunately, nothing would happen unless she got some clothes on
so that she and Mike could actually go out together. And while her
momentary flight of imagination had been great, the contents of her
closet still didn’t look any better.

A quick glance at her watch reminded her
that it was ten to seven. Time was running out. From the rack she
plucked a long skirted dress with yellow daisies printed on a black
background. The neck was scooped, but not too low, and there was a
band that ran under her breasts and tied in the back. Nothing
spectacular, but she always felt good when she wore it.

She slipped it on, and then turned first
right and then left as she surveyed herself in the mirror. Not bad.
On an impulse, she redid the tie in the back of the dress, pulling
it tighter before making a bow. The top of the dress clung to her
upper body and emphasized her chest. They were substantial breasts,
so she might as well make use of them. She decided she liked the
whole effect, as drawing the eye to her breasts made her hips and
waist look smaller. It made her look shapely. Who knew? She twirled
in a circle and laughed at her own daring.

A knock came on her front door. She stopped
spinning and grabbed the dresser for balance before giving herself
one last peek in the mirror. A rosy color stained her cheeks, as
much from anticipation as from all the whirling about. This was as
good as it got and was actually better than she’d hoped for. She
was ready, and not a moment too soon.

Annabelle closed the door on the mess in her
bedroom and hurried toward the front door. She swung it open to
greet Mike, but could only stare. Gone were the jeans and T-shirt
he’d worn earlier in the day. He was dressed in dark dress pants
and a crisp white shirt that emphasized his tan. He smiled and
stepped into her apartment. His large presence filled the room,
making it seem smaller.

“For you.” Mike offered her a bouquet of
violets, which she hadn’t noticed until now. How could she notice
flowers when Mike was standing in front of her looking sexy as sin
and smelling like the air after a summer rain?