Absolutely, Positively

you.”

    “I'm delighted to hear that,” Molly grumbled.

    Still shaken by what she had just witnessed, she looked at Harry for an explanation. His ferociously intelligent eyes met hers with an expression of rueful chagrin. She got the distinct impression that he was not quite sure what to do next.

    Molly was briefly intrigued by that insight. At no time during the past month had she ever seen him betray so much as a hint of uncertainty. Until tonight he had exhibited an almost Zen-like self-assurance. It was a little unnerving.

    His unshakable control and bird-of-prey patience together with his undeniable brainpower had combined to make Molly wary. And deeply, inexplicably curious. A moth and flame sort of thing, she had concluded. Very dangerous. Especially for a woman who had always been too burdened with responsibilities to take risks.

    She had been flabbergasted to discover that she was attracted to Harry. As soon as the realization had hit her—a momentous event that had occurred the day she met him—she had made a valiant effort to conceal it. She had needed time to decide how to handle it. She was still working on the problem.

    Harry Stratton Trevelyan could have been a swordsman, an artist, a monk, or a vampire. With such a range of career options, Molly found it intensely interesting that he had chosen a scholarly vocation.

    At first she had rationalized Harry's impact on her senses as a function of the fact that she was just not getting out enough these days. Aunt Venicia, her sister, Kelsey, and her counter assistant, Tessa, were forever telling her that she ought to get a life.

    Easy for them to say, Molly thought. What with raising Kelsey, running her business, sorting out the complex legal tangle of her father's affairs, and establishing the Abberwick Foundation, there was not a lot of room for a private life. There never had been.

    Molly dated occasionally when she had the time and the opportunity. A year ago she had thought she might finally settle down into a contented relationship with Gordon Brooke, the owner of an espresso shop located near Abberwick Tea & Spice. She and Gordon had a lot in common, and Gordon was an attractive man. But that possibility had evaporated months ago.

    For quite a while now, Molly had found herself far more consumed by her busy routine than she was by thoughts of passion. Lately even her quarterly business tax forms seemed more interesting than the men she met. She had begun to wonder if her female hormones had gone into permanent hibernation.

    That particular concern had vanished the day she had looked straight into Harry's amber eyes. All of her hormones had sat bolt upright and immediately launched into a stirring rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus.

    Her common sense did not join in the refrain, however. It had several pithy things to say on the subject of Harry Trevelyan. They all boiled down to a loud warning to stand clear. Unfortunately, while she had not inherited the family genius for invention, she had gotten a full measure of the other infamous Abberwick family characteristic: curiosity.

    And Molly had never been more curious about anything in her life than she was about Harry.

    She scowled at him. “Do you Trevelyans always greet each other in such a heartwarming fashion?”

    Harry looked pained.

    Josh laughed as he sauntered forward. “That bit with the knife is part of an old carnival act that Harry and I run through once in a while just to stay in practice.”

    “Carnival act?” Molly took several deep breaths to finish metabolizing the remainder of the adrenaline in her blood-stream. She looked at Harry. “What you just did was impossible.”

    “Not for Cousin Harry,” Josh assured her. “Fastest hands in the family.”

    “What on earth does that mean?” Molly asked.

    “Pay no attention to him.” Harry put down the teapot. “Snatching a knife out of midair is nothing more than an illusion. My father taught me the routine. I taught it to Josh. Which, upon reflection, may have been a mistake.”

    “My grandfather says Harry's dad had one of the best working knife acts in the business,” Josh said. “Harry knows all of his secrets.”

    Molly glanced at Harry. “It's just a trick?”

    “Yes,” Harry said.

    Josh gave him a reproachful look. “It's a lot more than a trick.” He glanced at Molly. “Hasn't Harry told you about his great gift?”

    “No, actually, he hasn't.” Molly raised one brow. “I have a