The Last Virgin. Dorie Graham

Though Sabrina had grown fond of the elderly woman, she sometimes wondered if Libby was becoming senile. She often talked non-stop, wavering in and out of a long-ago past.

      Done watering, Sabrina pulled out her customer request notebook to check it against her recent book shipment. She still carried a generous assortment of new product, though with all the mega-booksellers moving into the area, she’d expanded her used section. She needed an edge that allowed her to compete. Cliff had been appalled when she’d told him she was veering in that direction, but otherwise, she wouldn’t last long against that kind of competition. So far, her strategy had paid off.

      Toby emerged from the back, heading for a carton of used books on the counter. “I’ve logged these already,” he said, scooping up an armload. “Some of this old stuff is rad.” He hummed something Sabrina didn’t recognize as he disappeared down a book-lined aisle.

      Libby made a sudden beeline for the counter.

      Sabrina braced herself.

      “Has Henry called for me?”

      Sighing, Sabrina mustered a smile. “No, Libby. I’m sorry, but no one’s called for you.”

      The woman’s hopeful expression sagged. “Well, he will. He promised,” she said in her usual raspy voice.

      Sabrina squeezed the woman’s hand. Without fail, they played out this scenario whenever she came to the shop. Normally, Sabrina controlled the inevitable tug on her emotions. Today, however, her heart lurched and her eyes stung. What had happened to Libby’s Henry?

      “Yes,” her voice caught. “He will.” She blinked back embarrassing tears. This ridiculous birthday disaster had her tied up in knots.

      Libby shook her gnarled finger. “He’s an incredible lover, you know.”

      Sabrina straightened. This wasn’t part of the routine. “I’m…I’m sure he is.”

      “Has all the right moves.”

      “How…how nice for you.”

      “He plays his harmonica,” she rasped, “and I do this dance. I’ll show you.”

      “That’s not necessary.” Sabrina glanced around. No other customers had come in and Toby was probably lost in the bowels of the sci-fi area. “I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble.”

      “Oh, yes, dear. You must learn, so you can try it on your own young man.” She threw her hands in the air and swiveled in what she must have meant to be a seductive motion. The music curled around them. “Gets ’em in the mood, you know.”

      Not sure how to handle her, Sabrina cleared her throat, then came around the counter, and reached futilely toward the woman. “I don’t…I don’t have a young man.”

      “No? Maybe…that’s…because…you…don’t do…the dance.” The older woman’s rasp intensified and her breathing became labored. “Gets the…blood pumping.”

      “Libby…please, why don’t you sit down and rest a minute? I think I get the gist of it.”

      “No…no…you must!”

      Sabrina frowned. The woman looked ready to have a stroke and seemed determined enough to keep at it until Sabrina joined in. “Okay,” she said, raising her arms and swaying. “Just for a minute.” She glanced around again to ensure no one saw.

      “More…hip.” Libby’s hips pivoted in exaggerated circles.

      Sabrina chewed her lip in concentration. After a few moments, her muscles warmed and she smiled. The music flowed over her. Her body moved in tune with the sax’s sultry strains. “There. I think I’ve got it.”

      “Oh, you’ve got it all right,” a deep masculine voice sounded from behind her. “The question is, are you giving any of it away?”

      Embarrassment flooded Sabrina as she swung around to face a tall stranger. He stood a few feet inside the shop’s door. The light breeze ruffled his dark hair. His eyes, as black as coal, shone with undisguised admiration. His gaze ran over her hips, then up, pausing a long moment at her breasts, before rising to meet her eyes.

      A shiver ran through her. Men had noticed her before—more often than she’d cared for—but their attentions normally had little effect on her. This man’s gaze sent butterflies flurrying in her stomach. His lazy smile showed he hadn’t been fooled by her simple cotton dress.

      “See, you caught one.” Libby nodded in the newcomer’s direction. “Not bad for your first time out.”

      The man chuckled and headed toward them.

      Heat spread up Sabrina’s neck and across her cheeks. She’d never been more mortified.

      He moved with the grace and precision of a panther. Sleek. Sensual. His gray suit draped him as if it were tailor-made, his broad shoulders and tapered hips filling its precise lines.

      “So, are you?” His voice rumbled through her.

      Another shiver struck her, this one in the pit of her stomach. The dancing must have made her dizzy. “Excuse me?”

      “You go on!” Libby swatted his arm. “Sabrina doesn’t give a thing away.” She eyed Sabrina. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

      Sabrina stared at Libby. Words refused to form on her tongue.

      The man in turn stopped short. He drew up straight. “Sabrina?” He stared at her with disbelieving eyes.

      “Yes.” She offered her hand, grateful to have found her voice, though it held a strange, breathless quality. “Sabrina Walker. Was there something I could help you find?”

      “Well, actually…” He sandwiched her hand between his big palms. “I came to find you.”

      “Me?” She blinked. Her heart beat triple time, as the warmth of his hands melted into hers. A little tremor ran from her fingers up her arm. She fought the alarming urge to lean into him. What could a gorgeous man like this want with her?

      “That’s right.” Releasing her, he spread his arms wide. “I’m Noah Banks. I work with your brother.”

      Bewilderment swirled through her. “Noah? Oh, my…this is a surprise. Cliff’s told me so much about you.” Like how she should run the other way if she ever chanced to meet him.

      Noah’s eyes shone. “I can just imagine. Probably only half of it was true.”

      “I don’t know. I have a feeling he wasn’t too far off the mark.” She’d always doubted Cliff’s stories about his college roommate’s sexual prowess. Until now. Cliff had been right to warn her. Noah emanated danger…and excitement.

      She stepped back and nearly knocked over Libby. “Goodness, I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” Sabrina gestured to the woman. “This is Libby Conrad, my most valued customer. Ms. Conrad, Noah Banks, lady-killer.”

      Noah put a hand to his chest. “You wound me!” He took Libby’s offered hand, kissing it with a flourish. “I always leave a woman smiling, and very much alive.”

      “I’ll bet you do.” Libby snatched back her hand. “You’re a handsome rascal, but I’m afraid I’m spoken for. My Henry’ll be here any moment and he’s the jealous type.”

      Sabrina’s heart gave another squeeze.

      Noah darted a look over his shoulder, as if he were afraid of encountering the elderly woman’s lover. “Henry?”

      “Henry Thomas Watson, of Decatur, a real man’s man.” With shaky fingers, Libby extracted a golden locket from between her breasts. She flipped it open and held it toward him.

      Despite herself, Sabrina crowded beside him to catch a glimpse of the infamous Henry. Two tiny portraits, one of a young woman with flaming red hair and a familiar smile, the other a wavy-haired man, handsome, but serious,