Page 4 of Carbon

“Why did you send me that message?” I whispered when he slid out of me and smoothed my dress down.

“Because it was written in the book.”

“But why me? Why not my sister?” After all, she made no secret of the fact she moonlighted as Sapphire Duvall.

He leaned in closer, nuzzling me with his lips. “Because your sister didn’t write that story. You did.”

I stiffened in his arms. How the hell did he guess that? Only three people knew my secret—me, my sister, and our accountant. Even my parents didn’t have a clue who was really behind Sapphire’s novels.

“You’re mistaken,” I tried, but even to my own ears, my words sounded hollow.

“Again, your body tells me otherwise. Was it everything you hoped?”

And more, so much more, but I didn’t want to stroke his ego. “You missed the part where he teased her with freshly picked strawberries.”

His muscular arms dropped away, leaving me bereft. “We need to save something for next time.”

“Next time?”

He paused halfway to the door. “What? After tasting your sweetness, you didn’t think I’d abandon you to some scoundrel, did you?”

“Uh, I... I don’t... I didn’t think...”

Two seconds, and he’d closed the distance between us again, but this time he picked up my hand and pressed his lips to the back of it in a chaste kiss. “Until we meet again, fair lady.”

As his feet crunched away on the path, I gathered up my scattered sanity. Next time?

Would I be crazy enough to do this twice?

Who was I kidding? Of course I would.

2

Click. Click. Click.Ten hours after Mr. Midnight left me speechless in the summerhouse, Angie snapped her fingers in front of my face.

“What’s up? I know you daydream a lot, but you’ve been staring at the same spot on the wall for half an hour. That’s weird, even for you.”

She wasn’t wrong, but I’d never been taken from behind by a stranger in the early hours of the morning before. That sweet spot between my legs still ached as a reminder. “Just pondering a new plot line.”

Or even an old one—the way my impetuousness had combined with alcohol and a sexy stranger to bring one of my scenes to life. At least, he’d felt sexy. For all I knew, he could have looked like Frankenstein’s monster crossed with an Orc. It wasn’t as if I saw his face. What on earth had I been thinking? Oh, that’s right, I hadn’t.

“Well, ponder faster. I need you to take a look at cover designs forThe Dark Night, help me with some interview questions, and take a few photos of me for Sapphire’s blog. And don’t forget Mother’s expecting you for lunch at one.”

“She is?”

“I put it in your diary last week and reminded you yesterday and the day before.”

She motioned to my MacBook, sitting on the desk opposite hers. My calendar stared back at me, filled with all the appointments I tried to ignore in favour of my precious writing time.

“What’s she got planned? Tell me she hasn’t brought that colour lady back again.”

Three weeks ago, my mother had asked me to join her for afternoon tea, only for an overly enthusiastic lady who looked like a packet of Skittles had thrown up over her to try and force her dubious fashion choices upon me over scones and crustless sandwiches. Apparently, Mother thought the jeans and jumpers I tended to live in weren’t appropriate for a lady.

“She was a bit cagey about the reason, but she said you need to dress up.”

“Are you coming too?”

“No, I told her I had to go out.”

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