Elizabeth Bevarly - The Temptation of Rory Monahan

Drab, dull Miriam Thornbury, she concluded morosely. No wonder Rory Monahan scarcely paid her any heed.

Ah, well, she thought further. Even if she was a devil with a blue dress on, Rory Monahan still probably wouldn’t pay her any heed. He was a man on a quest. A quest for Knowledge with a capital K. Not even a devil with a blue dress on would have a hope of swaying him from his chosen course. Not unless that devil with a blue dress on was holding volume fifteen of Stegman’s Guide to the Peloponnesian War, or some such thing.

Hmmm, Miriam thought again, brightening.

Just how badly did she want Rory Monahan to notice her? she asked herself. And immediately she had her answer. Pretty badly. After all, she’d spent virtually the last six months wanting him to notice her. She’d spent virtually the last six months wanting him, period.

For six months she’d been walking into the Marigold Free Public Library in her usual fashion, to find the good professor sitting at his usual table in the reference section, performing his usual research in his usual manner. And she’d always melted in her usual fashion at how his blue eyes twinkled in their usual way, and how his mouth crooked up in his usual shy smile, and how his fingers threaded through his jet hair in his usual gesture of utter preoccupation. And she always responded to him in her usual way—by becoming very hot and very confused and very flustered.

And she’d spent the last six months, too, doing things and thinking about things that no self-respecting librarian should ever do or think about. Not in a public facility like a library, anyway. Because Miriam had spent the last six months fantasizing about Rory Monahan. Naturally, she’d also spent the last six months trying to reassure herself that the only reason she fantasized about him was because…because… Well, because…

Hmmm. Actually, now that she thought more about it, she wasn’t sure why she’d been fantasizing about him. Suddenly, though, now that she thought more about it, she realized that she very much wanted to find out.

Because suddenly, after reading all those articles in Metropolitan magazine, Miriam found herself armed with new knowledge. And she began to wonder if maybe all this new knowledge—whether she applied it the way Metro suggested or not—might just have some use. Although Professor Monahan had always been pleasant to her, had even gone so far as to smile warmly at her on occasion, he’d never shown any indication that he reciprocated her, um, interest. In fact, he’d never shown any indication that he reciprocated anything about her. Except, of course, for volume fifteen of Stegman’s Guide to the Peloponnesian War.

Knowledge, she reiterated to herself. That was all Rory Monahan wanted from life. Knowledge, knowledge and more knowledge. And as much as Miriam admired knowledge in a person…

She sighed fitfully. She’d like to show Rory Monahan knowledge. Boy howdy, would she. And as she thought more about it, she began to think that maybe, just maybe, there might not be any harm in putting her own newly acquired knowledge to good use.

Not all of it, necessarily, she hastily qualified when she remembered the gist of some of those articles. Not even a lot of it, really. But some of it, perhaps. A little. Surely there had been one or two things in that Inner Temptress article, for example, that might prove useful. Provided, of course, she could use them without completely humiliating herself.

Because if Miriam did manage to use one or two of Metro’s suggestions to capture even a tiny bit of Professor Monahan’s attention, then she might just be able to garner a bit more of his attention all by herself. And if she did that, then she might very well win a nice prize for her efforts. She might very well win Professor Rory Monahan.

As prizes went, that was a pretty good one, as far as Miriam was concerned.

Now, where to begin? she wondered. Hadn’t there been another article of interest in that Inner Temptress issue? Something about going from invisible to irresistible in seven seductive steps? Not that Miriam would use all seven steps—heavens, no. She didn’t want to overwhelm the good professor, did she? Not yet, anyway. But surely one or two of those steps might be helpful, she thought. She hoped.

Reaching for the issue in question, she settled back against the pillows again to read.

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