Chapter 9

As she was re-shelving books, Romoly was quietly repeating the words she'd memorized: "This poem I write, for you on this day has made me a schmuck; so what'd you gotta say?..." And in as many times as she repeated the words, she always shook her head afterwards. Dr. House was truly something else.

"Where's Romoly?" his voice suddenly filled the library. She scrunched her face in confusion and turned the corner at the end of a shelf to see House's back to her, inquiring after her to the replacement patron services manager. Wanda, the nice grandmother of 3 and former burlesque dancer (that's right…and Romoly had been floored when she first heard that, for five years, when Wanda had run away from home at 16, she joined a burlesque dance company in New York. It wasn't until she met a nice minister who took her away from that life that she found the security and love she needed. 'Oh, just wait until Dr. House hears about Wanda,' Romoly thought with a smile. 'He'll eat crow…and I wouldn't mind serving it to him on a silver platter.'), was going to be out for a few more days so Maureen was subbing for her.

Romoly took a deep breath and smoothed out the wrinkles of her brown trousers; modestly open-buttoned long-sleeve sky-blue oxford shirt left un-tucked; and matching sky-blue and brown form-fitting sweater vest, then made her way to stand behind him. "Well, howdy stranger. You've got some nerve comin' round these parts. Perhaps I should call the Sheriff."

House turned around and smiled…and was struck by the beauty of her personage. Romoly's wardrobe, while conservative and layered, accentuated the curves of her hips and waist. House, once again, became entranced by the cleavage that wasn't even showing. He would've had to be imagining it in order to see it.

Deciding to nip this thing in the butt, House raised an eyebrow and leaned over. "Do you whip those puppies out whenever you talk to men? Are you that dull that you need to use your breasts to get your point across?"

Romoly looked down her shirt and, of course, not seeing her cleavage, simply shook her head. "And top o' da mornin' to you. Have you come here for something specific, like, oh, say, a book perhaps? Or were you bored this morning and just needed a diversion? You know, I never found out why you were here that day. Was that another day you were bored and, giving helpless women heart attacks is just your sick, twisted way of trying to cop a feel?"

"No…that's only with the pretty ones." House smirked. "Do you want to know what I said that sent Miss Mary the Virgin into cardiac arrest?"

Romoly really should've said no…it was on the tip of her tongue…but her brain really, really needed to know. She'd been dying of curiosity ever since it happened. "What did you say?"

House leaned down conspiratorially and said, "I asked her, "Do you have any dark, quiet corners handy for seducing women?" I think her answer was no but I'm still unclear:" House smirked and looked down her shirt again. "do you?"

Romoly's eyes widened in confusion: not about what he had asked (because he wasn't the sort to ambiguously ask for something sexual; from her experience, he just came right out with it.) but why Wanda, the former burlesque dancer, would have a heart attack about something like that.

"Really? She had a heart attack about that? I thought you asked her something really naughty."

It was House's turn to be confused. "What do you mean?"

"Wanda used to be a burlesque dancer."

Now House was upset that Romoly would stoop to deception to have the upper hand; while so very House…it was reserved for only House's exclusive use. Besides, he didn't want to think of Wanda as a burlesque dancer. Other than the most obvious ewwww factor (the old broad wasn't currently in burlesque shape), it would prove, once more, that librarianism really didn't exist. "No; Wanda wasn't a burlesque dancer."

"Do you think I am making that up?"

"Of course. You'd stoop to any level to prove I was wrong about you. Granted, if I find out you're lying I'd be hornier than the horniest of horny toads you have in any of the books in your library. Deception can be extremely sexy."

"Well, Dr. House," Romoly turned around and began walking back to her office, located at the back of the library. House followed, hot on her heels. "get out your garden hose and ice chips because I'm not lying. In fact, Wanda will be back to work here soon; you can ask her yourself." When they got to her door, she stopped, turned around, placed her hand on the door handle and leaned against the door. "And you never answered my question: why were you here in the first place?"

Looking around and not seeing anyone within earshot or seeing range, House limped toward her until he was about 3 feet away. His voice lowered to a whisper. "I was casing the joint for my next date. And I still don't believe you about the burlesque dancer."

Romoly simply shrugged as if she didn't care. And she didn't because she knew she was right (after all, Wanda had brought in old pictures of her burlesque days and everyone believed her) and whether House believed it or not wasn't up to her. Romoly was only responsible for proving herself to him. And she wanted to oh so badly. Still watching House, who hadn't moved an inch, she was trying to figure out what his brain was doing…and getting absolutely no where.

Just as Romoly was about to do something to get him to back away, he gravelly whispered, "Did you get my note last night?" She nodded. "And?"

She grinned a little and, inadvertently, let her gaze stray to his lips, his scruffy chin, the white patch of scruff just off to the side of his mouth. His mouth was full and pink, too inviting for a nibble. 'Get a grip Rom,'she told herself as she quickly moved her gaze from his mouth to his…nose…anywhere but his eyes and mouth. 'You're confused and you've been lonely for way too long. That's why you feel the way you do about this joker. Don't fall victim to his evil charms…don't…do…it…'

Too late…he'd noticed where her gaze went and chuckled deeply, allowing his knowledge of her actions to shine on his face. He wanted her to know he'd caught her. "Do you know what it's like to kiss a man?"

"I'm 35 years old; I wasn't raised in a convent."

"Oh…defensive." It was his turn to watch her lips…and what he saw enticed him to no end: pink, full and trembling, they spoke volumes, just to him: 'We want you; we need you; come on baby, give it to us'. "I've never actually deflowered a woman but it should be interesting. What if we set up an appointment for sex education?" He gave a quickly glance around the library. "What kind of sex books you got around here?" He lowered his voice once again to a gravelly whisper. "You got any sexy pop-up books?" He paused, his entire face smiling at the thought. "I'd offer my personal collection but they're very worn and you wouldn't get the full effect. After all, it would be a tragedy for a woman to die a virgin; talk about a wasted life. Don't you agree?"

She hadn't planned on telling him anything about her past but she had a feeling it would come up again. She needed to be ready but she just didn't want to deal with this…nor him…at that moment. And it was a good thing: she was so livid she couldn't even see straight. This was beginning to go beyond ignorance…he was insulting her. "I think you should leave now."

His eyes widened at her tone. He had a feeling he'd crossed the line but it was too late to backpedal; besides, he didn't make it a general practice to apologize. So he just did what she said and backed up. Before turning around, he tilted his head. "How does one spell 'librarianism' anyway?" Winking, he spun on his heel and hobbled out of the library, his head held high.

She narrowed her eyes after him and absorbed what he just said to her. While she could try to convince herself all that he was bad and crude and just the opposite of everything she needed…she couldn't convince her heart that he wasn't everything she wanted.

Romoly Adele Scott had once had a man she thought she needed…and all that brought her was deception, fear and constant shame. After finally fleeing from that life fully and completely, she stopped listening to what she needed. She'd just never found anything she wanted…

Until now.

And wanting what everyone will tell you is the wrong thing felt oh so good…and oh so bad…at the same time.

*****