Page 70 of Take Me Home for Christmas

“So I heard.”

“Wait? You knew she was here looking for you, and you didn’t even bother to show your face?”

“I figured since you are my handler, you could”—he twirled his index finger in the air— “handle it.”

Elle was sure she was going to explode. “Oh, don’t you worry. I handled it. And now both our necks are on the line.”

He deigned to look at her. His green eyes were thoughtful. “Mm. I know. Thank you for that, by the way.”

Was he serious right now?

Was this man ever serious?

It was no use. Elle didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to deal with West any more today. She spun on her heel to march out.

“Elinor.”

The shock of hearing her name come from his lips had her wheeling around swiftly. West stood in the center of the room holding something out to her. From this distance it appeared to be a small rectangle of plastic.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He tossed it to her. She caught it right before it landed on the parquet floor. It was a jump drive.

“My memoir.”

Elle was suddenly lightheaded. “Wh—what?”

“Complete and ready for Helen to let out into the world.”

No surprise, she was having trouble making sense of the man. “You could have given it to her yourself today.”

West shrugged. “She tasked you with riding my ass for it. I figured I’d give you the glory of delivering it to her.”

“I—I . . .” Words failed her.

He went back to taking measurements.

Elle was now more confused than ever. “When did you complete it?”

The man had the nerve to chuckle. “Sometime in August.”

“Sometime in August!” Her shout was loud in the cavernous room. “And you couldn’t be bothered to turn it in on time?”

He shook his head. “Helen would have pressed me to start working on the next book. And I wasn’t ready to write it. I’m not sure I ever will be.”

Something the publisher said earlier swam through Elle’s mind. “She mentioned you reneged on the option for a second book.”

He scoffed. “I guess you could say I did. The contract for the second book is null and void if I miss any deadlines with book one.” He shot her a wicked grin. “I simply had my agent remind her of that. She showed up today because she’s worried I’ll sell it to another publisher. I won’t. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

Holy crap.

West had been sitting on his book in order to execute some power play against Helen. Elle ought to be furious that he’d involved her in his antics. Except she was getting her promotion out of it. She fingered the jump drive in her hand.

“It must be a hell of a story to warrant Helen coming all the way to Chances Inlet,” she said.

He was quiet for a long moment. “Mm. It’s a book based on my late wife’s journals.”

Whoa!

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