Page 16 of Carbon

“What do you think? Should we take it?”

“It hardly screams historical romance, does it? Besides, Mother would have a fit.” I had another thought. “Did they send any samples?”

Angie grinned at me. “Why? Do you want to use them with Gregory?”

I quickly shook my head, perhaps more emphatically than Gregory deserved. “Just curious.”

“They’re on my desk next to the mock-up of the masks fromThe Dark Night. Oh, and Petra called yesterday afternoon.”

“What did she want?”

Although we’d self-published all our books, Petra, our agent, had helped to negotiate foreign translation rights and our two movie deals.

“She reckons you should write a contemporary version ofMeet Me at Midnight. You know, update it for modern times with extra filth. Now, that would fit with the condom range.”

Palms sweating, I gripped my thighs at the thought of publishing anything half as grubby as my adventures with my Midnight. Hang on—myMidnight? We’d done very bad things twice—that hardly gave me a claim on the man, did it? Although if I recalled my high school French lessons correctly, he did keep calling me “my heart,” which made mine beat madly every time the words left his lips.

“I think for Mother’s sake we’d be best sticking with the historical themes.”

Angie pouted at me. “You’re no fun. Get Gregory to give you a good roll in the sack, then you might change your mind.”

“I’m not sure Gregory’s that sort of man. He reminds me of Rupert a bit.”

“But you loved Rupert.”

“I know... It’s just I’m not sure I want that kind of relationship again.”

“What do you mean? You and Rupert were perfect for each other.”

Yes, so everybody said. Eventually, we’d even believed it ourselves, hence the over-the-top nuptials in a marquee on the banks of the trout stream running through our estate. Rupert was safe. Rupert was dependable. Rupert was...quite boring, if I was honest with myself.

“I’m a different person now.”

Inside, I longed for adventure, but every time I contemplated acting on my urges, I chickened out. Probably because my one and only attempt at being that carefree girl had culminated with six weeks in a Thai prison—an experience, yes, but not one I cared to repeat.

“Perhaps I could set you up with one of my friends?” Angie offered. “Crispian’s hot and single.”

Crispian also dabbled in drugs and treated women like objects, but for some reason, Angie still liked the man. “Honestly, I’m happy with how things are.”

With Mr. Midnight bringing a little excitement into my life, as well as spectacular orgasms.

* * *

“When’s the next party?” I asked Mother three hours later. I’d joined her for lunch, much to her surprise.

“Four weeks, darling. Don’t forget your father and I are going for a break at the villa first.”

Dammit, Ihadcompletely forgotten. They headed for our place in Barbados twice a year, once at the end of winter and once in the autumn, which meant a whole month before Midnight would be back. One hand drifted up to my lips, where his touch still lingered, and I forced it back to my lap.

“Oh.”

“You sound disappointed. Why don’t you simply call Gregory? I’m sure he’d love to take you out for dinner.”

“It’s not about Gregory.” Whoops, shouldn’t have said that.

She looked up sharply. “Then whatisit about?”

“Er, I just had a fun time talking to everyone, and I, uh, I really liked the canapés.”

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