I peaked out from underneath the cover to see if she was actually buying what I was saying. It was safe to say that she wasn't. Okay, so I wasn't ever going to win a Golden Globe Award for outstanding acting. "Alright, alright, I'll get up and go to work sick," I churlishly declared.

            "Ah ha, I found my keys!" Camille cried out happily. She looked upon me and shook her head. "You aren't getting out of work today. If you really don't feel well, take some aspirin out of the bathroom cabinet. It'll help with your headache, stomachache, fever and dizziness. Ciao, Madi."

            She flounced out of the room and skipped out of the apartment. She would spend the day frolicking in a field full of flowers. Camille was simply much too optimistic. Whatever rose-tinted glass she wore needed to be crushed to pieces and those pieces should be burned. I sighed. Whereas Camille was entirely too optimistic, I was entirely too bitter.

            I shoved the covers away and trudged over to the bathroom. My head really did hurt. Still half-asleep, my clumsy hand knocked over two bottles. One of which was the aspirin. I picked up the bottle, took two pills from it and placed it on the counter and put the other one back into the cabinet. After having scalding water beat down upon me in the shower and a cup of coffee, I was ready to face my day.

            I yanked on my clothes, ran a brush through my damp hair and was ready to face my day sans makeup. It was a quarter to eight and it took ten minutes to get to work. I worked at Chapters, the Canadian equivalent to Barnes and Noble. However, like Barnes and Noble, every Chapters came equipped with a Starbucks. If I got there five minutes early, I could have breakfast there.

            The front window that displayed the bestsellers was decorated for Christmas with fake snow, tinsel and wrapped boxes. I stamped the snow off my boots on the red rug placed just inside the doors. I liked the bookstore with its hardwood floors and fireplace off to the side. Not to mention the endless stacks of books. Not all confirmed bookworms worked at libraries. Some, like myself, worked at bookstores.

            After grabbing a croissant, I went into the back to check in and pull on the green vest that constituted for our uniforms and the Santa hat. My boss, Marcus thought it was a great idea to get into the festive spirit. The rest of us thought we looked like dorks, but hey, he was the one who handed out the paychecks. What he said went.

            I polished off my croissant and began to work. It was the holiday season which meant more customers came into the bookstore to buy a gift for someone else. Most of them couldn't distinguish the kid's sci-fi section from the romance section even with those large signs clearly labeling the sections. It didn't bother me much. Without them, I wouldn't have a job either.

            The day didn't become unusual until about nine that morning. I was feeling restless, but I do tend to get restless when I have nothing to do.  I was helping Aidan stock the shelves and catching up while doing so. We had both been working in the bookstore for almost a year, but Aidan didn't normally take morning shifts. As he was talking about his new girlfriend, my gaze slipped down to focus on his mouth.

            He had soft, supple lips. He had a very kissable mouth. Whoever this lucky new girlfriend was made him happy and every time he thought of her, this tender, silly smile appeared on his face.  Out of nowhere, I wanted nothing more then to wrap my hands around his head and pull those lips down to mine. I wanted that mouth to devour me, to lick me all over, to lap me up until I purred.

            "Madi?" he questioned.

            I shook my head to dispel those wayward thoughts and replied, "Yes?" I almost groaned. I sounded like a breathless idiot.

            "Is something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

            "Um, no, I don't think so. Why would you think that?"

            He laughed. "I don't know. It was probably nothing, but for a second, I thought I might have said something wrong. You looked like you were going to jump me or something."

            I laughed, as well. Little did he know, that was exactly what I had almost done. "Oh, I think I see a confused and lost customer. I better go help them out."

            Aidan looked up and saw the customer that I was referring to. "We should go out sometime for coffee or something. You know, catch up while not doing work." I thought about coffee in bed, but he continued, "I would really like for you to meet my girlfriend. I think you would really like her."

            I smiled at him. "I would like that, too. We'll set a date later. I can't wait!" Liar, liar, pant on fire! A mocking voice in my head screamed.

            I headed for the customer who was in need of my help. By some cruel trick of fate, the customer was an attractive male maybe in his mid-twenties. His hair was auburn and his eyes were a vibrant green. He had a nice lean, muscular body and it was obvious that he worked out. Those broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist. I could imagine him shirtless, lifting weights, a sheen of sweat covering his able body.

            Being the confirmed bookworm that I am, I tend to be shy around strangers. Sure, I can open up later on, but the first few meetings with someone I don't know, I tend to find awkward. It was one of the reasons I found working in a bookstore so appealing. What I didn't do was take a quick inventory of every male to see if he could fulfill my every sexual fantasy as I seemed to be doing now.

            "Hello, sir, may I help you?" I queried in a perky voice. Help you out of your pants and into mine? Help you test out your endurance as you strain above me? Christ, was that fire raging out of control? It really was getting hot.

            He smiled at me as he spoke. "Yes, I was wondering if you could help me find a book. I'm a bit embarrassed, but it's for my fiancée. It's, well, something along the lines of one thousand and one ways to make love to your partner."

            Method one: have mad, hot, passionate sex with the woman who works at the bookstore in front of a fireplace. "No need to be embarrassed. I'll help you find it," I assured him. As long as you test every one of those methods on me first! I could see it clearly now. We would strip one another with our teeth; he'd push aside all the books on that table, lay me down atop of it and take me in one powerful thrust. Did I mention he had an Irish accent? It was stuff wicked dreams were made of.

            I found the book and drifted off again into my own wicked thoughts when his hand brushed mine to take the book from my hands. I actually jumped at the contact. He grinned. "It is quite graphic, isn't it?" For a horrifyingly long second, I thought he had read my mind or I had spoken my thoughts aloud, but he continued, "At least they have their clothes on."

            The cover! He was talking about the book cover where a fully clothed couple lay entangled in a passionate embrace. "Yes, wearing clothes is good," I replied. I realized what an idiot I sounded like and felt my face go red.

            "I'll go and pay for this," he said with a knowing smile. "Thanks for your help. I appreciate it." I would have appreciated if he took off all his clothes and left himself at my mercy. I could have guaranteed we both would have enjoyed it.

            After that incident, I dealt with two other customers who were thankfully female and one more blonde male. It was just like the others. I stammered like an incompetent moron while I resisted the urge to lock him into a closet with me and ravish him. Thankfully, all he needed was to be taken to the section he wanted to be in where I left him to browse. However, the temptation of that dark closet didn't end until he was gone. Even after that, all I could think of was Aidan, the Irishman and that blonde Adonis… together.

            Business slowed and I went behind the counter to ring up someone's purchase. One of the cashiers, Kelly had gone on her break with Aidan, I noted with a dark glower. The other, Yasmine really had to go to the bathroom. It was almost one thirty and she had been working since eight, like me. So I took her place while she relieved herself. Taking a magazine off the rack, I flipped through it absentmindedly while trying to discern exactly what the hell was going on.

            "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find you with your nose in a book," a male voice drawled.

            I looked up and frowned at the sight of him. It was James Claybourne. No where else on this earth could I, or anyone else for that matter, find another man who would be more arrogant, egotistical and rakish than this man. I had met him a couple of times before when all my friends would invite me to gather. They often invited him and few of his friends, too. After two pitiful attempts of conversation, it was obvious that James was my antithesis.

            "Actually, it's a magazine," I pointed out. Whatever freaky incident brought upon my eruption of lustful, carnal fantasies involving complete strangers would not be exercised on him. Thank God for that!

            Yasmine returned and reclaimed her post which meant I would probably have to help him find a book or whatever he was here for. "Is there something specific you want here or was the lineup at Tim Horton's so long that you decide to make do with Starbucks?"

            "Surprise, surprise, I am actually here for a book," he answered. Before I could retort with a witty, sarcastic comment, he remarked, "Cute hat." That shut me up.

            "I need to find a biography on Alexander the Great," he replied.

            I took him the bookshelf at the back of the store where hardly any customers came. These books mostly collected dust. "There is a small selection of books on Alexander the Great. You should choose however many you may need. Is this for someone else or are you actually interested in conquering warriors and such?"

            He gave me an odd look and a half smile. "Maybe I am into conquering."

            My throat became dry and I had to swallow. Oh dear lord, God was cruel after all. It was starting again. He had that rough, rugged look with his hair not quite at his shoulder, but still longer than most guys kept it. He had high gothic cheek bones and a strong jaw. His smoking grey eyes were best described as piercing and his body was more muscled than the Irishman, but hardly that bulging quality most men thought women found attractive. Not him, I begged, anyone but him!