The Shadows of Christmas Past

crinkled. This gave him a mischievous air. "Taffy sounds like a gentleman."
    Complimenting her favorite pet was a good way to get into Marj's good graces, and she smiled at him. It didn't hurt that the stranger exuded confident masculinity, was good-looking, and had a deep, sexy voice.
    As they smiled at each other, they shared a long, lingering look.
    "You like animals, I take it?"
    There was now a distinct twinkle in his eyes. "You could say that. At least none have ever bitten me—unless it was consensual," he added, looking straight at her.
    A zing went through her, and Marj went hot all over.
    Which made her feel guilty, since she had a date with Pat tonight to go to the Holiday Fete and potluck dinner, and she was a firm believer in dancing with the one that brought ya.
    Pity.
    Not that she and the stranger were really flirting, but they were standing awfully close together. And his smile was making her feel all tingly and warm.
    She hadn't been involved or even vaguely interested in anyone in a long time, and now she was going to a party with one man and having a hormonal rush over another. Not that she was was going to do anything about it; the rush simply proved she wasn't dead.
    Suddenly she found herself wondering how long they'd been staring at each other, and why the tingling was stronger and the room warmer. And were they even closer, almost touching?
    The world seemed to have just gone away.
    "The world does that, sometimes," he said.
    It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, and Marj wasn't prepared for this, at all.
    Even if she was used to this sort of thing going the other way—but not with people. She'd probably spoken out loud, and the embarrassment of having done that shot a bolt of irritability through her.
    "You're in my way."

    Marj took a step sideways, but he moved with her, still blocking the dairy section. She ducked around him when he opened the case. She saw what she wanted, and there was only one; a yellow quart carton sitting between rows of chocolate milk and lactose-free milk.
    She and the stranger reached for the eggnog at the same time. Their hands met inside the cooler.
    The electricity that arced between them was as tangible as lightning. All of Marj's nerve endings short-circuited. Her head went haywire, and she jumped back with a gasp.
    The man looked stunned as well and cleared his throat. Then he reached for the eggnog again, and Marj got her senses back.
    "Excuse me," she said, "but I need that."
    "So do I," he said. "I have to go to a party tonight, and I'm told I should bring something."
    "Me too."
    He looked down at her from a height of at least six-foot-three. She generally wasn't aware of being only five-foot-one, but this man made her feel small. She didn't like it.
    "You're hogging my eggnog."
    "And you're expecting me to be a gentleman and let you have it." He shook a finger at her. "I touched it first."
    "You distracted me."
    "I touched your hand." He gave her a cocky grin. "I admit I'm devastating, though."
    She didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed at this masculine self-confidence.
    She turned her head and called to the storekeeper. "Do you have any more eggnog in the back, Sam?"
    "With the Holiday Fete at the high school tonight?" Murphy called back. "What do you think?"
    "Everybody can't be bringing eggnog."
    "Take some chips and salsa," the stranger suggested. "Or potato salad. That's always a hit at a party."
    "Eggnog is more festive. And I brought cookies to go with it."
    "But not everybody likes eggnog."
    "Taffy does."

    Marj winced, realizing that she'd just admitted to catering to the tastes of a big, slobbering retriever.
    The stranger laughed, and handed her the last quart of eggnog. "I'm a sucker for animal lovers."
    She smiled her thanks and hurried to pay Sam. She found it oddly hard to walk away from the stranger, and was sure she felt his gaze on her the whole time.
    Harry liked her. He wasn't sure if he should, and he wasn't going to let hieing her get in the way of solving his current missing person case, if she was involved in any way. But he liked her—and he desired her.
    He liked the way she walked; he liked the way she talked. He liked her dark red hair, her big brown eyes, and her heart-shaped face. He liked the way her shapely bottom was nicely molded by the khaki slacks she wore. He liked her voice, and the way she smelled, and the roundness of her breasts beneath the teal sweater, and the way she had hips like a real