“I hear this often,” John said. “Patrons sometimes lose books in the shuffle. Sometimes a book accidentally ends up on their shelves or tucked away in a stack by their beds. It happens.”

Victoria’s fists clenched in embarrassment at his accusation. “Mr. Donovan, I can assure you the book is on one of your shelves.”

“I can do another sweep—”

“I suggest you try that,” she said, rounding her desk, heading straight for the door.

“—but you should know that your balance is outstanding.”

She paused at her door, hand resting on the knob. “Outstanding by how much?” Even after checking her library account, she decided to lie in favor of plausible deniability. She turned to see him saunter towards her. John’s steady approach set her already frayed nerves on edge. He didn’t stop until he was toe to toe with her. Victoria stood between him and the door, struggling for air that wasn’t clouded by the pleasant scent of his aftershave. Pine or birch or something green.

“I’m afraid you’re running up the tab, Dr. Reese.”

Their proximity clouded her mind and made her knees weak. Victoria leaned against the door for relief. “Am I?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was low gravel coming from the core of his exquisitely chiseled chest. She glanced at his denim shirt, wondering if the buttons were the snappy kind that you could wrench apart, and also if John even owned an iron. He hadn’t moved any closer, but his frenetic energy was migrating to her body causing her fingers to tremble. “I’d say you’re pushing $30 in fines. It’s almost criminal.”

“I’m not paying that,” Victoria said, trying to keep the haughtiness in her voice.

“Well then, that would be criminal, wouldn’t it?”

“I can easily contest the charges.”

“I’ll bet you could. You seem like a woman who likes to contest things.”

He was teasing her again. The quirk of his mouth was driving her mad. Was he flirting with her? “Good you recognize that now, Mr. Donovan. I’m also very organized.”

John raised a brow in response. “I’ll remember that.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked, opening the door.

“Six p.m., try to be on time.”

Victoria couldn’t help the undignified snort that escaped her. “Really?”

John stepped over the threshold, into the hallway. “I’m going to try out punctuality and see how it fits. Formalities are good, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“I’ll see you then.”

He walked off, leaving her with a slacked jaw. Before she could process what happened, the department secretary, Debbie, nearly walked into John as she passed by. She excused herself, sidled up to Victoria’s office and the two women watched the Viking walk away. Debbie was bubbling with excitement, her red curls bouncing with every movement.

“Who is he and what did he want?” she asked in a hushed voice.