LITMIR.BIZ

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might have expected by the idea of sitting by the gas fireplace in his apartment on a cold night, with a good book and a cat on his lap. He couldn’t just commandeer a cat. His landlady would probably be looking for her.

      “You’d better go home,” he said, trying to set the cat down. She yowled in protest and wriggled to stay in his arms.

      “Fine. I’ll take you down myself,” he said.

      Jamie didn’t bother with shoes as he headed down the steps to the entryway. He was about five or six steps from the bottom when the doorknob to the outside door turned and a moment later, Julia walked inside.

      Her hair looked a bit messy, as if tangled by a stiff wind, and she wobbled a little as she pushed the door open. She was humming a song, and it took him a few bars before he recognized the tune. “Blue Christmas.”

      She didn’t appear to notice him as she came inside, still humming and looking a little unsteady.

      Jamie decided he had to announce himself, since she still didn’t appear to notice him even when he walked the rest of the way down the steps.

      “I think I have something of yours.”

      She shrieked and jumped a foot into the air, then whirled around with her hands in front of her in a classic martial arts defensive pose.

      Whoa. Ninja librarian.

      He knew the instant she recognized him. Color soaked her cheeks, and she dropped her hands.

      “Oh! You scared the daylights out of me!”

      “Sorry about that. I should have announced myself somehow.”

      “It’s not your fault. I... I guess I must have been...thinking about something else.”

      The words something else came out slightly slurred and as he approached her, he noticed her cheeks seemed a little bit more flushed than he could attribute to a normal blush and her violet eyes looked a little dazed.

      Unless he was very much mistaken, his prim, uptight landlady was slightly tipsy, maybe from the gathering that had just broken up down here within the last half hour or so.

      He had to admit, he found this soft, flustered version of Julia Winston rather appealing.

      “I had a visitor upstairs, and I thought you might be looking for her.”

      He held out the cat, who still seemed reluctant to leave his arms.

      “Oh. Audrey Hepburn. You rascal.”

      He couldn’t hold back his smile. “Your cat’s name is Audrey Hepburn?”

      “Not my cat,” she corrected. “My mother’s cat. They’re all my mother’s cats. Yes, her name is Audrey Hepburn. My mother was a big fan of Roman Holiday.”

      “Charade is my favorite of her work.”

      “Same here!” Her eyes were wide with disbelief, as if she couldn’t fathom the idea that they might share a favorite movie.

      It surprised him a little, too. He might have figured her for someone who preferred dry literary movies or the kind of foreign films he couldn’t understand without subtitles. Then again, she was tipsy in her hallway after a wild gathering with friends on a weeknight. Maybe he wasn’t as good a judge of character as he thought.

      “Sounds like you were having quite a party earlier.”

      “Oh. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about my book club. I hope we didn’t bother you.”

      “It sounded a little raucous for a book club.” He didn’t mention the fact that she seemed a little buzzed.

      “We’re not usually this crazy,” she confided. “Roxy Nash brought this really great autumn sangria. It had apples and cinnamon and pears and was so good. We all got a little carried away. I think we might have underestimated slightly the alcohol content. I promise. I don’t have wild book club parties very often.”

      “Too bad. Make sure you invite me to the next one. I’d love to see Hazel and Eppie get smashed.”

      Much to his shock, her gaze seemed fixed on his smile.

      Or his mouth, anyway.

      Now what would a prim and proper woman like Julia Winston find so fascinating about his mouth? Did he have something stuck in his teeth?

      He gave her a closer look and his interest sharpened. Her lips parted and then she swallowed hard. If he didn’t know better, he would swear that was a little hint of attraction he saw in her eyes.

      Who would have guessed?

      “You know Hazel and Eppie?” she asked after a long moment.

      “Oh, yes. They’re two of my favorite people in Haven Point.”

      “Mine, too,” she said, in that same surprised tone. He had the feeling she wasn’t all that thrilled at finding more points of commonality between them.

      He decided to quit while he was ahead.

      “Anyway, here’s your cat.”

      He tried to hand the little beast to Julia, but once more she clung to him and yowled her protest. “Sorry. Apparently she likes me.”

      “Of course she does,” Julia muttered darkly. “She likes you and she hates me. They all hate me.”

      He heard a little thread of despondency in her voice that troubled him.

      “Who all hates you?” He had to ask.

      “The cats. My mother’s cats. Audrey hates me the least, I guess. Empress and Tabitha despise me.”

      “I’m sure that’s not true,” he answered, with no other idea of what to say in this circumstance.

      “It is true. All they do is turn up their noses like they’re too good to even notice me. It’s not fair. I feed them, I house them, I clean up their... Well, you know. You would think they might show a little gratitude.”

      “Cats aren’t exactly known to be overflowing in appreciation for others.”

      “I know, right? They act like I should be the grateful one that they’re letting me clean up after them. Seriously. It’s so unfair.”

      She glared at him, as if the temperament of the entire feline species was his fault. “Look at her. I should have known Audrey would love you. Everything female does.”

      What was he supposed to make of that particular statement? Was he supposed to apologize? He also wasn’t quite sure what he should do about his tipsy landlady. He didn’t feel right about leaving her alone in this condition.

      On the other hand, he barely knew the woman. For all he knew, maybe she went on a bender every Monday night.

      He didn’t think so, though. Julia Winston struck him as someone who rarely let herself unwind.

      While he was trying to figure out his best response, she apparently decided she was done talking with him.

      “Come on, Audrey. Let’s go.”

      She stepped closer, and he caught the scent of apples and pears and cinnamon, with a heady undertone of white wine. As she reached out again to take the cat from him, her hands brushed his chest. Was it his imagination or did they linger there a little longer than strictly necessary as she tried to scoop up the reluctant animal?

      That tentative touch combined with the awareness he had seen in her gaze earlier sent heat curling through him.

      Seriously? He was starting to be turned on by his half-drunk, stuffy librarian?

      Only because it had been way too long since he’d had a woman’s soft, warm hands anywhere on his body, he told himself.

      She didn’t look much like a stuffy librarian now, with that soft hair slipping free and her cheeks pink and her little tongue darting out

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