July 1914

Now that she was a full-fledged River City-zien with many friends and acquaintances who stopped by the library for chats, Marian Paroo Hill didn't often absentmindedly employ her stamp these days when checking out books. However, it was such a sweltering Saturday morning that not many library patrons were given to idle conversation. As Theodore, Philip and Bernard lined up a little before noon to check out their latest selections, the librarian was daydreaming too much about lunch to do more than give the boys a perfunctory smile as she hastily marked their books – and then found her stamp landing with a smack into a familiar masculine hand, one that she now knew just as thoroughly and intimately as her own.

Feeling more amused than anything else at her lapse, Marian raised her eyes to see her husband grinning at her.

"Caught you daydreaming, Madam Librarian," he affectionately chided as he wiped the ink off with one of the monogrammed handkerchiefs she had given him during their first Christmas together.

Marian laughed and shook her head in good-natured exasperation. "Oh, Harold!"

"A penny for your thoughts, my dear," he offered with a twinkle in his eye.

"I've been looking forward to closing for at least the last hour," the librarian confessed, taking out her own handkerchief and dabbing her slightly damp cheeks and forehead in a measured, ladylike manner that belied how desperate she was for a cool bath and a light negligee to wear afterward.

"Well, Theo, Phil and Bernie were the last to leave," the music professor informed her as he took out a fresh handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from his brow. "I checked the stacks five minutes ago."

"Oh, good!" Marian broke into an unabashed beam. "Why don't you go ahead and lock the front doors, then? Once I finish updating the ledger, the library will be closed for the rest of the day."

Looking similarly pleased, Harold darted to the wide double doors and slid the lock closed with his deft fingers. As he hastened to fulfill her request, the librarian openly admired her husband's lithe, masculine frame and nimbleness of movement, which still made her stomach flutter just as frantically as it had when she first met him. Only now, it didn't infuriate her to admit how fetching the music professor's physical form was – and how much she longed to feel his arms around her waist and his mouth covering hers.

But when her handsome husband turned to face her, Marian remembered something, and met his grin with a frown. "Harold," she said with a sigh, "you're going to have to unlock the doors again. Jane still hasn't returned from the errand I sent her on earlier." She eyed the clock on the wall, which now indicated it was three minutes past noon. "I wonder what's keeping her – it's not at all like Jane to be late!"

In a flash, Harold was behind the desk and looming over her shoulder. "Oh, yes!" he said, as if he'd just remembered something, himself – though he sounded a little too well-pleased for her to buy this innocent charade. "I gave Miss Peabody a few extra errands on your behalf… and fifteen cents for a chocolate malted at the Candy Kitchen, as a thank-you for her diligence."

As it was such a hot day, his warm breath upon her neck should have made her perspire even more. Instead, Marian both shivered and burned as a delightful thrill of anticipation ran from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Harold didn't often use Sen-Sen these days – knowing full well her partiality to the breath freshener, he purposely saved it for special occasions – and when she breathed in licorice along with his usual beguiling essence of bay rum and sandalwood, that lovely something deep in the pit of stomach blossomed. As it was far too hot a day for the music professor to smell so deliciously fresh nearing lunchtime, he must have taken a bath and shaved right before he came to see her. Even though the librarian found the scent of her husband appealing regardless of his grooming, the idea that he had gone to so much trouble to spruce himself up, as if they were still courting, was tremendously flattering.

Still, Marian kept her voice level and continued fiddling with the card catalog as she replied, "So you've waylaid my assistant, have you? Now we're going to be here for at least another hour!"

"That's exactly what I had in mind," Harold purred into her ear, this time not even bothering to quell the triumph in his tone. His arms stole around her waist, though he held her lightly, maintaining the veneer of propriety up to the last possible moment even though they were completely alone in the building.

Just as happened the first time he'd ever taken such liberties in joining her at her post, Marian's heart began to beat faster – but with anticipation instead of dread. However, while she was now his wife, she still wasn't inclined to make things too easy for the charming Casanova. "You picked a rather warm day to detain me in the library for longer than strictly necessary," she wryly observed.

Harold hesitated for a split second before acknowledging with a small smile, "Yes, I suppose I did."

As both reluctance and a subdued demeanor were quite uncharacteristic for the dashing music professor – she'd been expecting him to fire back a heated, flirtatious retort that made her weak in the knees – the librarian turned in her husband's arms to face him. "Harold?" she questioned, her voice soft and encouraging.

Harold's expression was just as grave as his tone as he answered, "Marian… do you remember a certain conversation we had last August, when you were pregnant with the twins and I was laid up with a sprained ankle? I wanted to make things up to you for what happened in the ancient history section a few years ago, and you told me to surprise you." He paused and smiled again, not his usual million-dollar grin, but the sweet, abashed rictus he only ever gave to her when he was in the midst of baring his soul. "Well… surprise."

At that, Marian did go weak in the knees; Harold's arms tightened protectively around her waist as she trembled. "It's all right," he immediately reassured her. "We don't have to go through with it if you've changed your mind."

The librarian wound her arms around her husband's neck and silenced him with a brief but fervent kiss. "What took you so long?" she admonished. "I've been waiting for you to make your move for months!"

She laughed inwardly when Harold goggled at her – though she excelled at taking the bombastic music professor down a peg when his charming ego got a little too puffed up for his own good, it wasn't often she knocked him so thoroughly off balance. "You have?" he asked in an awed voice.

Marian nodded as she looked steadily into his searching gaze. "I have."

She thought Harold would sweep her into a passionate kiss at that, but a spark of apprehension flashed in his eyes, and he continued to gaze uncertainly at her. Figuring he needed a bit more encouragement – after all, it was a delicate matter and she had slapped him quite brusquely the afternoon he'd sneaked up from behind to embrace her in the ancient history aisle – the librarian gave her hesitant husband a sly smile. "As long as you're not planning to woo me with talk of carrion, that is," she said provocatively, hoping that her flirtation would spur him into action. For good measure, she began to slowly remove her spectacles – a gesture that never failed to whet the music professor's amorous appetites.

Indeed, that wonderful look of intense ardor blazed in Harold's eyes, and with the million-dollar grin that always made her stomach flutter and her heart beat faster, he smoothly reached up to cover her hand with his. "Allow me, Madam Librarian."

Keeping his gaze steadfastly focused on hers, Harold lifted his other hand and eased the glasses off of her, stroking her cheeks deliberately with his fingers as he did so. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture, and one that still made Marian shiver pleasantly even though they'd shared far closer embraces during their marriage. The librarian's stomach fluttered even more when she recalled one of Harold's many pillow-talk confessions: He'd wanted to remove her spectacles ever since the early months of their courtship. It had been almost too tempting, all those afternoons they spent alone together in the music emporium refining the Think System, but he'd somehow managed to restrain himself until three weeks before their wedding. Unsurprisingly, what had started as a light, flirtatious exchange progressed to a very heated interlude between the fiancés; it was a good thing Tommy Djilas entered the hallway leading to the music professor's office treading a lot louder than usual! (Even now, Marian couldn't help blushing a little when she remembered how, after Professor Hill had announced their engagement to the boys' band, the teen had immediately adopted the habit of making a noticeable commotion whenever he neared the vicinity of Harold's office – and it was a mode of behavior he still maintained to this day.)

Thankfully, husband and wife were alone in the library and the doors were locked against the incursion of patrons or even assistant librarians at present, so there wasn't anyone around to spoil their solitude. So Harold didn't stop at removing the librarian's spectacles; after regarding her with a fond look for a moment or two, he leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on her left temple, and then her right. From there, his mouth proceeded to meander its way down to the tip of her nose and then her lips, where he lingered in a light but tantalizing kiss that left Marian even more weak-kneed than she'd been before he'd taken her in his arms.

When the music professor's mouth finally parted from hers, the librarian gazed warmly and affectionately at the man who'd gone from being a charlatan, philanderer, and adversary to her friend, lover, and father of her children.

"I never get tired of doing that," Harold said with a satisfied smile as he folded the earpieces and carefully laid the librarian's spectacles on the desk. His smile broadened into a triumphant grin, though there was still an element of uneasiness in his eyes as he informed his wife, "We've got a good, solid hour or so before Miss Peabody returns. So, my dear little librarian… " He briefly trailed off to bestow a gentle, open-mouthed kiss on the side of her neck. "Wherever we go in that hour is entirely up to you."

Taking her husband by the hand, Marian briskly led him up the spiral staircase and down the aisle to the erstwhile ancient history section. As it was now the ancient languages section – and no longer ended in a wall, thanks to her assistant's brilliant reorganization of the bookshelves last summer – the librarian was not able to stand upon the exact spot she'd been stuck in when Ed Griner had attempted to kiss her without her consent. However, the main thing was that she was here, at long last, with the man to whom she'd freely and happily entrusted her body, heart and soul.

When Marian turned to face her husband, she was saddened but not surprised to see that he looked even more apprehensive than he'd been when they were standing behind the front desk.

"It's all right, Harold," she assured him with a smile that was both impish and affectionate. "I'm ready for anything you have planned."

Now Harold looked downright sheepish, even as he wrapped his arms around the librarian's waist and pulled her close. "I know you're expecting a romantic rendezvous, Marian, and I was planning on giving you that." He kissed her sweetly on the lips. "In fact, after we made love in the faraway field last year, this became my favorite fantasy – the next adventure to look forward to with you. But now that we're finally here, I'm finding these cramped quarters a lot more… " – the eloquent music professor paused as if he was trying to think of just the right word – " …disquieting than I bargained for, and I find that I want… " – he paused again and swallowed before finishing his sentence – " …to talk."

Genuinely surprised, Marian raised an eyebrow. "Oh? About what?"

Harold actually blushed, though he did not avert his gaze from hers. "About the past – mine, as well as yours." He smiled ruefully. "Not very romantic of me, I know."

Normally, Marian would have been chagrined by this unexpected turn of events, which had indeed dispelled the heated mood between them, but her curiosity was too piqued. "What is it?" she gently prompted.

However, her countenance must have registered a glimmer of disappointment, because Harold tightened his arms around her and said contritely, "I am sorry, Marian. This afternoon was supposed to be about you. Whether my difficulty comes from noble concern for your well-being or my own selfish desire for untroubled pleasure, I don't know. But I do know that I can't make love to you here in good conscience until I get something cleared up, first."

Although the librarian had no idea what could possibly be nagging her husband after everything he'd already confessed to her in their two years of knowing each other, she nodded understandingly. Harold was wearing the same guilty expression he'd had right after the first time he'd kissed her on the footbridge, when he told her there was a lot that she didn't know about him. It had amazed Marian to see such a shamefaced look on his face when their lips finally parted; she'd expected him to regard her with a triumphant grin now that she had, at long last, yielded to his charms. While it warmed her heart to see that the fly-by-night salesman possessed a bigger conscience than even she'd given him credit for, the besotted librarian had been so eager to enjoy what fleeting time they had together that she stifled her curiosity and refrained from seizing the opportunity to learn more about the man who kept his true self tightly under wraps. (At least, she refrained until the music professor came back from his intense but hushed tête-à-tête with Marcellus Washburn and embraced her with a grin that was a little too glib for her liking!)

But after all the struggle they subsequently went through to overcome their hesitation to confide in one another, Marian always made it a point to lend her ear whenever Harold was in the mood to talk about his past. And she hadn't entirely lost hope of a romantic rendezvous in the library this afternoon; the deepening of their emotional intimacy, while fraught with uncertainty and tension at times, had the delightful effect of making their canoodling even more pleasurable than it already was. So the librarian regarded her hesitant husband with measured eyes and a benign smile as he gathered his thoughts together.

After swallowing one more time and clearing his throat for good measure, Harold matter-of-factly divulged what was on his mind: "Given how Ed Griner accosted you in this very spot, and given how I also went after you in the library with the same insolent gusto… why didn't you despise me, as well?"

Despite the seriousness of the mood between them, laughter bubbled up inside the librarian at the memory of his public pursuit – his outrageous declarations of desire had ceased to sting the moment she'd started to fall in love with him. But Harold's countenance was still reticent enough that she feared even the smallest of smiles would discourage him from baring his soul any further. So Marian buried her face in the crook of her husband's neck to hide the mirth in her expression as she gently reminded him, "I did despise you for a little while, darling."

Indeed, Harold let out a chuckle that was more of a sigh than a laugh, even as he planted a kiss on the top of her head. "I gathered as much, Madam Librarian – and that makes it even more incredible that you love me as much as you do now."

Her amusement fading, Marian raised her head to meet her husband's intent, searching gaze. "It's true that you both refused to take no for an answer," she conceded. "And it's also true that you both tried to make an unwilling woman kiss you. But only one of you brought my taciturn younger brother out of his shell. When I heard the way Winthrop exclaimed over his new cornet, heedless of his lisp for the first time since before Papa died, my heart turned over. And only one of you convinced Mrs. Shinn and her ladies to give the books they'd denounced a fair chance – to give me a fair chance. And this was all before you risked your freedom just to be with me!" Her arms tightened around the music professor, whose expression was now awed as he drank in her words. "Even as you took, you gave so much in return, Harold. And not just to me – to Winthrop, Tommy Djilas, and all the boys who wanted a little more color and excitement than a farmer's life could give them."

The librarian buried her face in her husband's shoulder again as tears welled up in her eyes. "Ed Griner just took. After he accosted me, I felt even more shamed and isolated and alone, cut off from finding solace even within my own family – I couldn't even tell my mother what happened. But your pursuit opened the door for me to become a full-fledged River City-zien. When you swept me up into the dancing, it was the first time I felt like part of the crowd, the first time I could actually see myself as a member of this community instead of a lonely-and-misunderstood outsider looking in."

Harold smiled. "I did think it was real shame that such a young and beautiful woman clung so stubbornly to her joyless and lonely existence." He gently lifted her chin with his finger so their gazes could meet, and she likewise smiled as she noted that the usual, irrepressible twinkle had stolen back into his eyes. "Trying to win your heart was by far the toughest pursuit I ever undertook… and if it hadn't been for that faint glimmer of reciprocation in your eyes when I leaned in to kiss you, I just might have thrown in the towel on River City altogether!"

This time, Marian didn't attempt to hide her laughter. "Professor Hill, giving up altogether? What a preposterous notion! While you're certainly practical enough to abandon a scheme gone wrong, I have a hard time imagining your pride would allow you to let a woman elude your grasp," she teased, even as his nimble fingers, which were now caressing her cheek, caused her stomach to flutter in pleasant anticipation once more. "My stubborn refusal of your overtures merely firmed your resolve!"

The librarian expected her husband to laugh along with her, but instead, his hand fell away from her cheek. "Only because I knew that, deep down, you were attracted to me," he said sheepishly. "If I had realized while I was chasing you that afternoon that you really did despise me to the core of your soul, I would have left you alone eventually. I may have been a shameless philanderer who saw 'no' as a challenge to be overcome rather than a final answer, but I was never that kind of man. And so there has been a time or two in my past where I didn't make it very far with a woman I'd set my sights on, despite my persistence." Harold sighed and began to turn away from her. "Although in all honesty, I have sometimes wondered if the only thing separating me from the likes of Ed Griner was that he wasn't so fortunate to be blessed with a silver tongue, himself… "

Marian tutted at her thoughtlessness – how could she forget that this rendezvous was just as much for Harold's sake as it was for hers? While it was not unfitting that he should harbor some regret over using his prodigious talents to take advantage of others, getting too mired in guilt over the way he'd behaved previously would rob him of the confidence he needed to remain the respectable husband, father and bandleader he'd worked so tirelessly to become.

Catching the music professor's limp hand and bringing it back to her cheek, the librarian acknowledged without the smallest trace of a blush, "Harold, the first time I ever saw you, I felt a jolt in the pit of my stomach – and it wasn't from disgust. Even in the midst of being appalled that you would be so bold as to follow me home and make such crass overtures, I couldn't help reflecting how handsome you were… and how lonely I was." Now her cheeks did start to crimson as she went on, "And as I watched you captivate everyone in River City with your silver tongue, a small part of me thought it was a real shame that such a charming and attractive man was nothing more than a slick, fly-by-night salesman. As for Ed Griner – I never had so much as a twinkle of desire for him, and his pursuit only drove me deeper into my shell. But when you pursued me in the library that day, you reawakened hopes and feelings I had long buried since I came to River City. When I eventually realized that you did have it in you to become the music professor you were pretending to be, my heart was yours, as well. Even though I was well aware that you were simply trying to flatter me into complicit silence with your declarations of love, I knew I could never feel about any man the way I felt about you."

For a moment, Harold's expression was inscrutable, even as his fingers once again began to stroke her cheek. "Marian," he finally said, his voice heavy with emotion, "my feelings for you were always truer than you thought – truer than I wanted to admit, even to myself." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing wildly up and down. "For the longest time, I told myself I was merely selling you as I would any other woman, but the more I think on those days, the more I have to wonder if my heart wasn't yours the very moment I saw you walking past the town green."

Even as Marian's heart flip-flopped at both his earnest admission and the renewed look of fervent determination in his eyes, she couldn't help regarding her husband with a smile that was slightly skeptical – though his words were exactly the kind of romance the librarian had always imagined a white knight whispering to her back in her dull and dreary spinster days, such sweeping declarations were a bit too pie-in-the-sky in real life, especially when they were coming from a reformed Casanova! Keeping her voice as level as she could manage, she asked, "Are you quite sure it was your heart that led you to go after me, Professor Hill… " – she allowed a little note of mischief to creep into her tone – "… or another part of you, entirely?"

Harold's eyes widened, his expression that intoxicating mixture of astonishment and delight he wore whenever she succeeded in knocking him thoroughly off balance. But Marian barely had time to revel in the sweetness of her victory before one of her husband's eternally wandering hands found hers and pressed it to the front of his trousers.

When she perceived how aroused he was, her smile was lost in a gasp; it never failed to amaze her how excited her husband could get, even (and especially!) in public. Although the librarian had been anticipating this tryst for quite some time now, her mind was sent reeling at Harold's sheer boldness in demonstrating his desire for her here. Though she had long lost any (admittedly feeble) qualms about engaging in heavy petting with him at the footbridge, she could not help thinking of Madison Public Library as hallowed ground, no matter how alone they happened to be in the building at this precise moment.

Nevertheless, Marian did not make even a token attempt to extricate her hand from its present, scandalous position – and let out a small, encouraging moan as Harold leaned in to nibble at her neck. "Yes, Marian," he ceded in a heated whisper in between kisses, "I suppose I overstated things just a little bit. But does it really matter which part of me wanted you first?" The fingers of his free hand, which still hadn't left her cheek, twined themselves in the loose curls that had gradually worked their way out of her chignon over the course of the sweltering morning. "After two years and two children, I still get this way when I'm near you or even just thinking about you. If this" – he pressed her hand even tighter against him – "isn't an indication of deeper feeling, especially for a former swindler who'd always lost interest in a woman shortly after he'd made his conquest, I don't know what is… "

If Harold had been planning to say anything more, he was roundly thwarted when Marian's mouth found his for a long, deep and hungry kiss. Although marriage and parenthood had, in truth, softened the keen edge of awed and incredulous desperation that had initially colored their passion, she felt those same delightful butterflies she'd tried so hard to deny the first time he disrupted her library. "Well then," she said softly and breathlessly after their mouths finally parted, "what do you have in mind for the two of us, this afternoon?"

Harold's fingers gently disentangled themselves from her curls, and he reached down to find her free hand. Marian was startled to realize that her husband was trembling, even as his smile and voice remained steady. "It took me a bit longer than I bargained for to work up the nerve to do this – me, who always rushes in where angels fear to tread!" He brought her hand to his lips and sweetly kissed the tips of her fingers. "I want to make a memory with you on this spot, Marian. A memory that will overshadow what happened in the library, before."

Marian burst into laughter. "Harold, you've already done that, a thousand times over! And not just in my mind, either – ever since you serenaded your love loudly to me, everyone in town seems to view the library as a footbridge with bookshelves." She raised an eyebrow at her provocative husband, who was now grinning proudly at his achievement. "Especially you!"

"Indeed I do," he shamelessly agreed. "Under certain circumstances, at least… " He gave her hand a furtive squeeze, and Marian felt her cheeks crimson at the reminder of just what that hand was resting upon.

But the librarian did not move her hand away. Instead, a gleam of mischief entered her gaze as she asked with coy curiosity, "Harold, were you like… this the day you sang to me in the library?"

Harold chuckled. "I was a little bit, when I rushed after you to kiss you on the cheek." He let go of her other hand to waggle a finger at her. "Watching you dance got me all riled up, Madam Librarian."

Marian was too delighted to pretend she was scandalized. "And the footbridge, the night we first kissed?"

Harold let out a full-fledged laugh at that. "Oh, my dear little librarian, that started well before the footbridge – right when I rounded the corner and saw you standing on your mother's front porch in that fetching red dress of yours. After some struggle I did manage to settle down, but I was immediately set off again when I saw you in your pink-and-white organdy and we danced the Shipoopi together. By the time we finally made it to the footbridge, I was so hot for you I ready to jump out of my skin!"

"My goodness!" the librarian marveled. Though their conversation was causing her to feel much the same as he'd just described, she somehow managed to keep her voice level as she asked her amorous husband something she'd always wondered about, but never found quite the right time to mention: "If you had so much trouble restraining yourself so early on in our courtship, how in heaven's name did you manage to keep a respectable-enough distance all the days and nights after that, until we finally made it to the altar?"

"Because I had good reason to restrain myself, darling," Harold said tenderly, placing that waggling finger under her chin as he gazed deeply into her eyes. "As badly as I wanted you, I wasn't about to give in to my carnal urges and ruin the life I was working to build with you." He paused to regard her with a knowing grin. "But as you no doubt recall from some of our more impassioned embraces during those days, Madam Librarian, it was rather hard – er, challenging at times."

Marian's own smile turned sly as she raised an eyebrow at her husband. "Was it indeed, Professor Hill?"

Harold's only response was to close his eyes and let out a low moan – her hand, which up until now had merely rested on the front of his trousers, began to caress him in long, broad strokes.

"By the way," the librarian said nonchalantly, even as she continued to move her hand back and forth, "did Tommy and Zaneeta ever pass along the message that you were banned from Madison Public Library for life?"

"That they did," the music professor confirmed with a chuckle. Though his breathing was steadily growing more uneven, he still somehow managed to regard her with his irrepressibly charming "cat caught the canary" grin. "But apparently, that ban was lifted quite awhile ago!"

"Well… that all depends," Marian said coyly. The fingers of not one, but both of her hands found his belt buckle, and began to undo it. Harold's panting came to immediate halt and his grin evaporated as an expression of sheer astonishment took hold of his features. But he did not try to stop her, not even when she unbuttoned his suit-coat and tugged both his dress shirt and undershirt loose.

As her hands crept beneath the fabric to caress his bare skin, the librarian meant to continue their flirtation by coquettishly informing the dashing music professor that the continued reinstatement of his library privileges depended on how many lines he dared to cross this afternoon. But when her fingers found the scar on her husband's side, tracing the stitch marks forever imprinted upon his otherwise smooth skin, that fierce, wonderful ardor blazed in his eyes, and she said in a tremulous but determined voice, "I also want to give you something to remember, Harold."

He still continued to gape at her as a whirlwind of emotions swept through his widened eyes: shock, elation, affection, desire, apprehension – Marian could hardly keep track of them all. She almost didn't know what to say or do next, but for the one look she witnessed struggling for dominance on his conflicted countenance, a look she knew very well: the pained but steadfast determination of a man who was far too ardent to be a white knight, but valiantly clung to his last shred of self-control out of respect for his beloved's decency, all the same.

And this was exactly why the librarian trusted Harold enough to let herself completely go in his presence. Unbuttoning his dress shirt just enough to ease it down his shoulder, she pressed her lips to his brand mark and then whispered into his ear the first lines from Le Baiser: "Ah! Harold, qu'avez-vous fait? Quel nouveau trouble et quelle ivresse!"

Even as he groaned and firmly grasped her by the hips so as to pull her against him, the music professor remained as quick-witted as ever, retorting with the final line of the poem: "C'est beaucoup plus que recevoir… ma chérie."

But French was never Harold's forte, especially when he clearly had far more earthly pursuits in mind than engaging in literary banter; he mangled the line so horribly that the librarian almost didn't realize how clever his retort truly was. She would have thoroughly teased him for such a stunning lapse in repartee (in her daydreams of yore, her white knight's accent and pronunciation had been impeccable when he quoted French poetry to her!). But what her husband lacked in erudite elegance, he more than made up for in passionate demonstration – as soon as he'd finished speaking, his mouth covered hers in a kiss that was torrid but tender, deep but undemanding, wanton but devoted.

Just like on that summer day two years ago when he first waltzed through the doors of Marian's well-ordered library, Harold sang his love to her, but softly in her ear, and they danced together, but far more intimately. She could not have said how long they spent in this wordless, blissful interval, canoodling as leisurely and languidly as they used to when they were first married and had all the time in the world to spend on each other. But when Harold continued to show no great hurry in intensifying their embrace, giving her neck and décolletage one fervent but feather-light kiss after another, she was driven so wild that she had to do something to hasten things along. And so Marian found herself gasping words she never dreamed she'd say – let alone moan! – outside the privacy of their home:

"Kiss me harder, Harold… "

Harold let out a groan that made her shiver all over, even as she sweltered. "If it wasn't too suspicious for you to wear a shawl on the walk home this afternoon, I most certainly would," he averred, his breath hot and damp against her flushed skin. "But I'd better not – I can't guarantee I won't leave a mark… "

Before the librarian could sigh in frustrated resignation – even as gone as she was, she couldn't protest his taking such a sensible precaution – the music professor lifted his head to give her a grin that was downright wicked with naughty glee. "But if memory serves, my dear little librarian, there's a love-bite on your thigh that needs refreshing… "

When Marian let out an amused but appreciative laugh at her husband's impish ingenuity, he extricated himself from their embrace and knelt before her. His hand had already been steadily tugging her skirts higher – a task she enthusiastically helped along by inching her leg slowly upward until it was wrapped around his hips – and he only needed to raise the hem of her bunched-up skirts a little further to find the opening of her drawers and nudge the thin fabric aside. Shortly after Harold's eager mouth pressed into the bare skin of her thigh, the librarian felt a sharp jolt of pleasure. But even as her hands came crashing down on his shoulders and went on to make a hopeless mess of his curls (it would be perfectly appropriate for him to wear his straw boater, even in this terrible heat), she attempted to stifle the intensity of the ecstatic screams that tumbled out involuntarily as he gave her the heated love-bites that were too dangerous to bestow on her neck. Although she had sighed and even moaned in Harold's arms when he kissed and caressed her earlier, she mustn't get too carried away.

Harold chuckled, though his breathing remained just as heavy and uneven as hers. "Shout as loud as you want, Marian – there's no one here but us."

The librarian smoothed back the curls hanging over her husband's forehead. "Is that so, Professor Hill?" she asked, in as arch a tone as she could manage through her gasps.

With a self-satisfied nod, he proudly informed her, "I personally inspected every nook and cranny of this building earlier, just to make absolute sure we'd be alone this afternoon."

Marian's gasps turned into full-fledged laughs as she imagined Harold feverishly weaving in and out of the shelves and shooing all the patrons away as if they were her mother's wayward chickens that had escaped their pen and gotten into the vegetable garden. This time, she did not make even the slightest attempt to contain herself, and her mirth rang loudly throughout the library.

Still on his knees, Harold continued to grin up at her, though he was now regarding her with inquiring – and slightly chagrined – eyes. Lest the befuddled music professor think she was laughing at him directly, Marian pulled him to his feet and, throwing her arms around him, kissed him solidly on the lips. "I love you," she said happily. "I still can't believe you arranged all this, just for me!" She kissed him again, this time sweetly on the cheek, and said in a soft, low voice, "I'll never forget it, Harold."

His confidence fully restored, Harold beamed at her and leaned in until his mouth was next to her ear. "Just so you know, my dear little librarian, I sent the girls to your mother's for the afternoon," he informed her, his tone just as tender. "I didn't know how much time we'd have, and I didn't want to wait for you until tonight. So as soon as Miss Peabody gets back from all her errands, we'll go straight home." He paused to tug gently at her earlobe with his lips, and the last of Marian's giggles died away as a shiver of anticipation ran from the top of her head to the tips of her toes once more. "But until then, I'll do whatever you want – you just name it."

The librarian did not hesitate in her request. "Touch me, Harold – everywhere."

Weaving her fingers in his hair, Marian completely abandoned herself to exhilaration, moaning loudly and unabashedly as her husband hastened to fulfill her entreaty. She wasn't sure how long they stood there together, Harold making love to every inch of her he could reach with his hands and lips – and her reciprocating in return – when a meticulous but indisputable pounding on the locked double doors reverberated throughout the building and shattered their romantic reverie.

With a smile and a sigh, husband and wife parted and industriously set about straightening their rumpled clothing. Thanks to the experience she was steadily amassing from their annual trysts at the faraway field, it did not take Marian long to smooth her skirts down over her legs, straighten her blouse, and tuck her unruly tresses back into place. However, their illicit embrace had left Harold far more tousled: his tie had fallen out of his collar completely, his suit-coat and dress shirt were hanging so loosely off his shoulders he might as well have not been wearing them at all, and his undone belt had worked its way out of so many pant loops it was nearly trailing on the floor. Though his trousers remained most of the way fastened, he had to undo them entirely in order to get the tails of his dress shirt to lie properly beneath his waistband again. As the music professor struggled to neaten his ensemble, Marian spotted his tie in a crumpled heap by her foot and bent down to retrieve it so he wouldn't see the mirth she was so desperately trying to smother – they didn't have a moment to spare, as the rapping on the front doors was growing steadily more persistent as the minutes passed.

But Harold noticed it anyway, and waggled his finger at her as soon as she stood upright. "Oh, you just wait'll I get you home, Madam Librarian… "

Even as the puckish gleam in his eye made her want to press a heated kiss to that insolent mouth of his, Marian merely smiled as she assisted him with the last of his ablutions and then knotted his tie. Further flirtation could wait until they were safely ensconced behind the closed doors of their charming Victorian. Not only was she certain that her husband would lose no time in disheveling her once more, she'd actively encourage such shenanigans – though she might insist on a cool bath for the two of them, first!

While their appearance was by no means immaculate, it was respectable enough to pass muster for a sweltering summer day. At any rate, the librarian could easily account for her oddly rumpled clothing and unusual slowness to reach the door as a result of losing track of time working in the second-floor archive room. As for Harold's less-than-impeccable appearance – he could explain anything away with his silver tongue.

However, the charming music professor must have entertained a few doubts as to whether he would indeed escape undetected from their latest amorous adventure. As they passed by the book dumbwaiter, he slyly remarked, "I know of a much quicker way for me to get the first floor and out the back door before poor Miss Peabody's ruckus comes to Constable Locke's attention… "

Indeed, the pounding on the doors had grown nearly frantic by now. But Marian stifled her amusement and, realizing that she never took her devil-may-care husband properly to task for that little stunt, briskly admonished, "You will do no such thing, Mister Hill. It took me the better part of a year to convince the trustees to pay for the necessary repairs, and now that the dumbwaiter is finally working properly, I won't have you damaging it again!"

By now, they had reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, so the danger of Harold actually using the dumbwaiter as an elevator was rendered moot. But they still weren't quite out of the woods yet – not only did her irrepressible husband tug on her arm and pull her back to him for a sweet, lingering kiss, she allowed it without so much as a token protest, even though the cacophony of knocking was almost deafening.

When they finally parted, Harold grinned, pointed toward the back door, and circled his arm toward the front walkway in one of those graceful, fluid motions of his that never failed to make her stomach somersault with delight. "Bench," he mouthed.

Marian beamed conspiratorially at him. "Fifteen minutes," she mouthed in return.