Shadowed Stranger. Кэрол Мортимер

near the fiction section. He knew very well the medical section wouldn’t interest her at all, especially when she dropped one of the huge volumes on her toe.

      She swore loudly, receiving a reproving look from Mr Leaven as she picked up the book, muttering to herself as she replaced it on the top shelf.

      ‘What did you say?’ Selma stood behind her, eyeing her flushed face curiously.

      ‘I said damn Oliver Pendleton. He wrote this book,’ she explained. ‘And I just crushed my toe with it.’

      Selma tutted. ‘Never mind that now. He’s here,’ she announced triumphantly.

      Robyn frowned. ‘Oliver Pendleton?’ she asked in a puzzled voice.

      ‘No, silly,’ the other girl sighed her impatience. ‘Your boy-friend, he’s here.’

      ‘Boy-friend?’ She gulped. ‘You mean—–’

      ‘Yes!’ Selma pulled her along beside her. ‘He just came to the enquiries desk,’ she appeared not to notice Robyn’s reluctance to follow her. ‘As soon as he said his name I knew who he was.’

      Yes, it really was him. Standing authoritatively by the main desk, an air of detachment about him, was Rick Howarth.