Page 91 of The VIP Doubles Down
When he turned, he looked as though he’d shed ten years. “Who the hell cares? I wrote them.” In three strides he was beside her, taking her shoulders and pulling her up to kiss her with more gratitude and relief than passion. He lifted his head, and his eyes were the green of the sea with sunlight filtering through it. “You! You did this.”
“I was just lucky enough to be here when it happened.” She didn’t want to be held responsible for his creativity. Nor did she want his overriding feeling toward her to be gratitude.
His grip did not ease. “You loosened something, so the knots came unraveled.”
“That’s what any good physical therapist would do.” She smiled and kissed him lightly.
Gavin scanned her face, his gaze so intent that she felt it like a touch, as though his fingers were skimming over her skin, drawing her thoughts to the surface for him to read. “Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re involved in this.”
Allie had a sudden thought. “Should you let Jane know that you’ve broken through your block?” That would stop any plans for ghostwriters and put her mind at rest about relaying Troy’s news.
“No. I want to keep the pressure off for a while.”
So he didn’t quite trust his muse yet. “You could ask her to keep it confidential.”
He paced back to his desk. “I would still feel the weight of her expectations.” He swiveled the chair back and forth a few times before he sat down and positioned his hands on the keyboard. “Back to the grindstone.” But he said it with a buoyancy that belied the words.
Now Allie had a new reason to worry about the potential ghostwriter. It would crush Gavin’s joy and might stop his writing if he found out about the prospect. She couldn’t bear to see him plunge back into his dark pit again. She needed to talk to Troy, to find out how definite the idea was.
“Mr.Gavin, Ms.Allie, is lunchtime.”
Allie jumped at the sound of Ludmilla’s voice coming from the doorway. She had gotten absorbed in one of her favorite Julian Best stories to distract herself from worrying about her dilemma.
Gavin continued to type, so Allie smiled at the housekeeper. “Thank you. Do we eat lunch in the dining room?”
“Wherever Mr.Gavin want to eat.” Ludmilla walked over and tapped him on the shoulder, as though she had done it many times. “You try to starve Ms.Allie?”
He nodded and kept typing. Ludmilla winked at Allie and stood waiting. Finally, Gavin reached for his mouse, clicked a couple of times, and leaned back in his chair. He grinned at Ludmilla. “What’s for lunch? I could eat a horse.”
“No horse meat, that’s for sure,” the housekeeper said. “Germaine make delicious soup with clams and crabs and mussels. And I bake delicious bread.”
They ate in the casual dining area off the kitchen at a small whitewashed table. Pie sat in one of the two empty chairs, her gaze fixed on the tureen of seafood chowder steaming in the center of the table. Gavin fished out a chunk of crabmeat and offered it to the cat.
“Leave me some fingers,” he said as the cat seized the crab and wolfed it down. He looked at Allie. “I thought she’d eat more delicately.”
“Don’t let her dainty looks fool you. She has a hearty appetite.” Pie put one paw on the table before Allie removed it. “No. You stay on the chair or you get shut out of the room.”
“You’re very stern.” Gavin fed Pie another piece of crab.
“She’ll dive right into the soup if you give her half a chance. And no more crab for her. I don’t want Ludmilla to deal with any more cat upchuck.”
Gavin shrugged at the cat, who was giving him her best hungry-kitty look. “Sorry, but I’m not arguing with your mistress. I owe her.”
Allie snorted, and they dug into the meal, which was as delicious as Ludmilla had promised. When Allie laid down her fork after eating much too large a slice of chocolate-pecan pie with freshly whipped cream, she said, “Back to work?”
Gavin swallowed the last of his cappuccino. “No, we have an errand to run.”
“We?”
“It requires your participation.” He stood up.
“If you think I’m going to meekly go with you, you’ve got another think coming. What sort of errand?”
He sighed and sat down again. “You’ll enjoy it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it involves shopping.”
