"Me too. I have big plans for tonight."

Alice cuffed him playfully as they loaded the bags into the backseat of her Subaru. When they got to her place, they made short work of packing everything perishable away, and ate directly from the supermarket containers at the kitchen counter. Time seemed to be of the essence. Before the last forkful of pie made it to his mouth, Alice dragged him to bed. He didn't put up much of a fight.

It was exactly where he wanted to be. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. He'd like to fix up the old homestead, make it the house it could be, have Alice help him. With her at his side, the gloom would vanish and all traces of Ephraim Merrill would be obliterated.

For now, Alice's fake Florida garage apartment would have to do.

Daniel remembered he had an important job ahead. Those freckles needed counting. And kissing.

Chapter 9.

Sat.u.r.day was one of those perfect October days where the sky was the color of the Virgin Mary's robe and the air was redolent of wood smoke. If there had been a pumpkin on the library steps, it would have been covered with frost.

Alice has skipped buying a new one yesterday for the Halloween party. She was not supplying the town's juvenile delinquents with any more ammunition. She was pretty certain Dobby-defiling Dylan Coleman was behind the vandalism, but had no way to prove it. Alice sure wasn't going to hang out all night in the library trying to catch him.

In fact, Alice didn't want to be in the library at all. She wanted to be back in bed with Daniel. Forever. But she didn't have forever, just today. And half of it would be spent with her dressed as a witch.

Daniel had laughed this morning when he saw her get-up. Well, why wouldn't he? She was wearing a tatty black c.o.c.ktail dress she found in a Portland thrift store, its long chiffon sleeves making it hazardous for her to be near breakable objects. A pointed witch's hat was secured on her head by an elastic band, which was cutting into her chin. If she hadn't met Daniel, she would have painted her face green, but she couldn't bear that he'd remember her that way for who knew how many years to come.

Halloween night wasn't until the middle of next week, but the library always hosted a party and story hour for the town's children the weekend before. The little ones came in costume, cried, ate cookies and candy, chased each other. The older ones came to check each other out and look scornfully at their younger siblings. Alice closed the pocket doors to the Reading Room, so Daniel had been hermetically sealed, separated from the controlled chaos of the children's section.

She was too busy to think until the last of the stragglers left. Jamie, looking quite svelte in a black cat suit, volunteered to do the clean-up and closing.

"Get out of here. You deserve it. And him," she said, tilting her head in Daniel's direction. Jamie had seen them arrive together and was probably already planning their wedding reception. "What's he doing in there anyway? Did he tell you?"

"He...he...he's a philosopher. He's thinking," Alice mumbled.

"Really. There must be a lot of money in the thinking business. Ruth Hardwick told me he's loaded. Saw you two at the grocery store last night with a zillion dollars in his pocket."

"Uh. Yeah. He does very well." Alice escaped Jamie's interrogation with her wits barely in tact. She supposed she'd now have to construct a scenario to explain Daniel's disappearance, but she'd worry about that tomorrow.

She tapped on the doors, then opened them. "Any luck?"

Daniel looked drained. He shook his head.

"Okay, then." Floating like a black b.u.t.terfly in her chiffon, she swished over to the book case and hid the book in the folds of her sleeve. "I'll run this by the demagnetizer. Meet me in the parking lot."

"Thank you, Alice. For everything."

Her heart constricted. He sounded so b.u.mmed out. "We've still got some time. What say we barbecue the book when we grill the steaks?"

"It doesn't stay burned, remember?"

"We'll think of something. I promise." She kissed him quickly. Later she'd kiss him slowly.

He was sitting in the car when she got outside. She solemnly handed him the book.

"Can we swing by the Merrill Mansion first? I want to get my stuff before I turn into a pumpkin at midnight, and I don't want to lose a minute with you."

"You mean I'm going to have to watch you go?" Alice knew she sounded whiny. But the thought of him vanishing into thin air was pretty traumatic.

"I didn't think. I'm sorry. I'll split before it's time."

"No." She reached across to him and squeezed his hand. "I'm a big girl. I want to be with you, too. What will I see?"

"I don't know. I've never been here with anyone before. My guess is one second I'll be there and the next I won't."

They rode along in silence. Leaves skittered across sidewalks. Industrious neighbors were raking outside, baking inside, walking dogs, riding bikes. Living average, normal lives. Just a typical Sat.u.r.day afternoon in a small town in New England.

Alice would never be average and normal again. That was Daniel's fault. She wouldn't regret it, either.

She turned into the Merrill Road. "What if you try to take the book back with you? Put it in your backpack?"

Daniel was quiet, thinking. And not getting big bucks to. "I could try. I haven't done that before."

Alice felt a little surge of satisfaction. At least she had helped him in some way. "Are you going to keep trying to work your magic on it this afternoon?"

His voice was so low she could barely hear him. "No. I want to work my magic on you." Her stomach fluttered.

They pulled up to Daniel's house. It hadn't been painted in years, but used to be white with a deep green front door. Once it had been a gloriously proud Federal-style frame dwelling with a pediment and rounded fanlight over the entry. The formal gardens were ragged and overgrown. The Merrill Mansion looked nothing so much like a haunted house now, ready to scare the living daylights out of the local kids.

"We'll go in the front so you can get the full effect." Daniel unlocked the peeling front door and Alice found herself in a gracious oval vestibule. Hardwood floors, now dull and buckled, ran the length of hallway to the rear of the house. Large parlors were on either side of the entryway, the rooms empty save for sheets of wallpaper that had tumbled from the walls.

"It must have been beautiful once," she said wistfully.

"A real showplace."

Daniel sounded bitter. His memories here had been tinged with unhappiness.

Alice looked up at the curving staircase, rubbing her hand on the banister.

"Don't even think about going upstairs. You've seen the movie The Money Pit? I'm not about to fish you out of the rubble."

"Okay. Lay on, MacDuff."

Daniel's brow wrinkled. "You know that's the beginning of the death scene, don't you? Let's hope not." He ambled back to the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the old gla.s.s, casting a rippled pattern on the cracked plaster walls. "I'll just be a minute."

"Can I come with you?"

"Scared?"

Alice shivered. "A little."

"My room's not as impressive as the rest of the house. It was a scullery." He led her into a dismal little room. Alice sat on the mattress while he packed his few possessions in his backpack. Last to go in was his wife's Bible, right on top of The History of Merrill's Mills.

"There. I guess that's it. I'll write to my caretaker to clean out the fridge."

"You can write here?" Alice felt a little leap of hope.

"Only to the Dunns. They've kind of inherited the job of looking after the house. One of them's an attorney, too, which is handy."

Alice knew the Dunn family. One of the first settlers around these parts was a Dunn. They were related to a lot of people in town in some way, if not by blood, then marriage. "Do you think you could write to me in care of them?"

He put his arm around her. "I can try. The worst that can happen is that they'll never get the letter."

He locked the mudroom door behind them, and gave one last look at the house.

"Maybe it won't even be here next time."

And maybe I won't be either, thought Alice.

She was frantic for him. The clock next to the bedside was a constant harbinger of doom, each flip of the numbers a reminder that this kiss, this caress, this stroke, this unsurpa.s.sable o.r.g.a.s.m might be the last. They were both slick with sweat yet unwilling to stop, until Alice had the bright idea to make love in the shower. She pleasured him on her knees, he used her fragrant soap and his talented fingers and then his mouth to return the favor, they slid somewhat alarmingly against the white tiles until Alice was hoa.r.s.e from crying his name.

It was nearly eleven-thirty. The steaks were still shrink-wrapped, the champagne unopened. Food had seemed far too mundane when they could feast on each other. Alice was light-headed, but not from hunger.

She was so afraid she'd fall apart before he left.

She watched as he pulled his last pair of clean jeans from the pack. And saw the color leach from his face until he looked like a marble statue of some lost Greek G.o.d.

"What is it?"

"The history. It's not here."

"But I saw you put it in! And it was there when you got out your hairbrush."

His voice was steely. "Well, it's not there now."

"Oh my G.o.d. Do you think it's back on the shelf in the library?"

"It wouldn't surprise me at all. It was a nice try, though, Alice." His mouth twisted in what she didn't mistake to be a smile.

"We'll go get it. Right now." Alice leaped from the bed and opened her dresser. She grabbed the first things she could find and threw them on. Daniel stood in his boxers, watching her.

"Why bother?"

"Because! I won't let them take you away without a fight!" Her voice broke, and she knew her eyes were welling with hot tears. She felt as though her heart was crying too.

Looking resigned, Daniel got dressed. "I'll drive."

Alice nodded. She could barely see her way to the door. Tears streamed down her face. Her last few minutes with Daniel were to be spent in her Subaru, racing against time and hope.

When he pulled into the parking lot, it was fifteen minutes before midnight. He took the backpack and the keys away from her shaking hands and unlocked the door. Flipped on the lights. Stopped in front of the Reading Room arch.

"I can't."

Alice brushed by him, the brief contact igniting every nerve ending. Without turning on the light, she found the d.a.m.ned book right where it had always been, mocking them both. She held it out to him. "Take it."

He stood still, not coming any closer.

"Take the book, Daniel! Please!"

"I'd much rather kiss you again." He smiled now, this time for real, and Alice felt her heart crack in two.

"I love you. I always will."

"Oh, Daniel, I love you too."

The grandfather clock ticked, as steady as their heartbeats. He took the book from her hand and slipped into the backpack, then let the bag drop to the floor. She flew into his arms and kissed him, pouring every wish, every desire into the act. She wanted him to know, she wanted him to feel, she wanted him to burn as she was. So he would never forget.

"One last time."

Bemused, he looked down at her.

She pushed him backward until he landed into "his" chair. Unzipped him. Pulled down her sweatpants. Took him inside. The moonlight cast its silver glow. The clock began to strike.

"G.o.d!" Daniel cried.

It took a while for her to realize he was not in the throes of o.r.g.a.s.m. Alice stopped. Somewhere behind her there was a crackling. She turned in time to see a tower of flame shoot out from Daniel's bag.

He was laughing, a rich, precious sound. Before she could even think to get up and get the fire extinguisher, the blaze died out. There was nothing on the rug, not even remnants of ashes.

"It's gone," she said, puzzled. "The whole thing is gone." She looked on the shelf. The s.p.a.ce where the book had been was still there, empty.

"Succ.u.mb to temptation in this holy place. My G.o.d." Daniel struggled to get his breath. He was still blessedly inside her, deep, throbbing.

Oh, there simply was no subst.i.tute for the word throbbing, Alice thought. Pulsating just wouldn't do it.

"We're going to have to expand your vocabulary," Daniel grinned, as the very last of her thoughts spun away from him. "Night after night."

"I don't understand."