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curled over his collar, her nails lightly raking his scalp. Her hand then moved to cup his ear, amplifying the sound of his name on her lips. Soft puffs of her minty breath baited him, tying him in knots.
    “This is how librarians kiss,” she murmured against his mouth.
    Intent on having the last laugh, Amanda brought all her knowledge and a dash of imagination into play. Her tongue lightly surveyed the unfamiliar contour of his lips, which were surprisingly soft and firm. Unaccustomed to being the aggressor, she was unprepared for the heady sense of power that shot through her. Encouraged, she boldly pressed on, deepening the pressure of the kiss.
    The initiative passed back and forth as Brady responded to her play. His mouth opened, releasing his own tongue, which was eager to mate with hers. One hand tunneled under her hair to hold her just so, the slanting angle of the contact ensuring maximum pleasure as he drank in the nectar of her essence.
    His arms engulfed her slowly, binding her to him. Amanda found herself pressing against a masculine body that was as compactly powerful as she’d suspected. A coil of longing unfurled itself deep within her, laying her prey to its primal message. Her fingers registered his thermal warmth as they slipped around his waist and kneaded the muscles of his tapered back.
    When Brady finally tore his mouth from hers it was to hoarsely mutter, “God, you’re wonderful!”
    The lesson had gone further than she’d expected and her response had subsequently gone deeper. It took a concentrated effort to remember that it was all playacting. Or so it was supposed to be. Gathering her shattered composure, she unsteadily inquired, “Is that an admission that you’re a bad judge of character?”
    “No. I knew…” he began, concentrating more on threading his fingers though the incredible softness of her hair than on the possible effects of his admission.
    She felt his body tense in anticipation of her fury. But instead of throwing a fit, Amanda continued to confound him by huskily prompting, “Did you enjoy the kiss?”
    Triumphant victory flashed across his face, coloring his voice. “I enjoyed it very much, Mandy,” he husked, reaching out to pull her closer.
    Twisting out of his embrace, Amanda deployed her verbal assault with a tart, “I sincerely hope you did, because that’s the only one you’ll ever get from me.” She whirled to slam the door in Brady’s astonished face.
    His taunting voice followed her upstairs. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mandy.”

 
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    Amanda had spent a restless night, punching her pillow at assorted intervals, and wishing it could have been a certain impossible policeman she was attacking instead of the defenseless feathers. Her temper did not improve once she got to work and faced a barrage of questions from her curious coworkers.
    The first one came before she’d even gotten to her office as the registrar stopped her on the front steps. “I hear you and a certain police detective were spotted mingling at a popular nightspot last night,” the other woman chirped in the tone of a Hollywood gossip columnist.
    “If you would call listening to a classical concert mingling, and Mandell Hall as a popular nightspot, then I suppose what you heard was correct,” Amanda retorted before continuing on her way on up the stairs.
    The next question came while Amanda was pouring herself a cup of coffee from the library’s community pot. “Did you have a nice time last night?” Helen asked with motherly concern.
    Nice
was not the word Amanda would have used to describe her evening. Frustrating, infuriating, surprising, all came closer to the truth. So did enchanting. The kiss they’d shared was pure, unadulterated magic, a double-edged sword that was reason enough not to see Brady Gallagher again, but powerful enough to ensure that she would.
    “Amanda?” Helen’s voice pulled her back to the present.
    “Yes, Helen, I had