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“Work trip?” heasked, arching his eyebrows.

It was actuallya book tour for her new release but Lori cut off the explanation before shespoke it. Ander didn’t know she was Claire Kent, and it might become tooobvious if she said she was going on a book tour right when Claire Kent’shighly anticipated new romance was released.

“Yeah,” shesaid vaguely. “Something like that.”

Ander noddedand didn’t pursue the subject.

They lay sideby side and both stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes.

“So your newbook is coming out on the first of the month?” Ander asked at last, speakingcasually and without any prelude.

“Ye—” Lorianswered automatically before she realized what he’d just asked. She jerked upto a sitting position with a gasp and stared down at his bland face. “Youknow?”

Ander gave hera slight, sheepish smile. “Guilty.”

Lori’s hearthammered and her belly twisted—with a collection of emotions she couldn’tentirely work out. “You’ve known all along?” She was dismayed to hear the hintof betrayal in her words.

Shaking hishead, Ander sat up too. “No. When we talked about it at first, I had no idea.But I’ve reread some of your books in the last few months, and I kept seeing...seeingyou in them.”

“Oh.” Lori feltherself blushing for some reason.

“I thought it mustbe you. And then, last weekend, it didn’t take too much searching to discoverwhat writers’ conference was being held in Quebec during those days and who thekeynote speaker was. It just affirmed my suspicions.”

Lori slumpedback on the bed, releasing a long, shaky breath. She should have known Anderwas too sharp and observant to hide something like this from.

A tiny littlepart of her was glad he knew. Glad he knew that she was his favorite romancewriter.

Ander reclinedback as well, but his face was turned toward her, his eyes resting on her face.“Are you upset?”

“No,” sheadmitted, turning to smile at him almost bashfully. “I guess not. I mean, nowthat I know you, I feel pretty safe about a story not appearing in the tabloidsabout how Claire Kent has been using the services of a sex professional for thelast six months.”

Ander’s eyeswere unusually sober. And after a moment of silence he said, “I hope youbelieve that.”

“I do. I knowyou’re not going to the press with the story.”

“The story willnever come out through me,” he murmured. Then his lips twitched a little. “Itwon’t even appear in my true-life confessions bestseller.”

“Hey,” shesaid, giving him a reproachful look, “Don’t mock the book idea. I was seriousabout that.”

“I know youwere.” For just a few seconds, his smile looked almost tender. Then thesoftness disappeared in his easy irony. “Although it was a rash suggestion,since you don’t even know if I can string together two sentences.”

Lori sniffeddisdainfully. “Please. Someone as intelligent and articulate as you? Of course,you can write. Besides, you don’t have to be a brilliant writer. Justinteresting and basically coherent. You’d have an editor to clean things up.”

Ander chuckled.“You’re serious about this.”

“Yes. I am. Whyshouldn’t I be? Just say the word and I’ll do anything I can to help.”

That softnessflickered in his eyes again, disappearing just as quickly as before. “Iappreciate it. But I’m not sure I’m a project worth pursuing.”

Lori hated theresignation she heard in his last words. It was worse than the bitterness sheheard far more often. She opened her mouth to argue but then changed her mind.

Nothing shecould say would change his mind about himself, would make him believe he hadtrue value.

She reachedover and turned his head toward her again, keeping her palm on his cheek. Thenshe leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

She had nodelusions about the powers of her kiss. It wasn’t going to change anythingabout his attitude toward himself. Couldn’t reshape his whole world. But it wasthe only thing she could think of to do to express how she felt at the moment.

And she neededto do something.

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