Page 4 of Devoured By You

“Are you spoken for?”

He smirked. “Is that the kind of language you use in your novels?”

“Sometimes. It depends on the character.”

“No. I’m not spoken for.” He looked me over for the second time. “Was that the right answer?”

My stomach flipped again. If my flirting skills were passable, Blay’s were off-the-freaking-charts outstanding.

Clearing my throat, I picked an invisible thread of cotton off my sleeve. “It wasn’t the wrong one.”

His pupils flared, and his stare probed, searching for an answer to an unasked question. The answer, by the way, was a big fat yes.

“I’m rather glad I took this flight, Tilly.”

I might adore that nickname. “Me, too.”

Chapter 2

Blaize

I’m waiting for the punch line.

What a pleasant surprise this trip was turning out to be.

I’d expected a long, dull commercial flight to Miami—foisted on me because my father needed the company jet—with nothing to occupy my thoughts other than dread that grew like a weed. Instead, Cupid had tossed me a lifeline, a distraction I’d badly needed to take my mind off the cruise ship launch.

Jill “Tilly” Rowe was a delight. A hazel-eyed beauty with mocha hair that kissed her shoulders, high, proud cheekbones, perfect lips, and a body created to torment heterosexual men into selling the family silver for just one touch.

And she was sitting in the seat right across the aisle. Lucky me.

“So, come on, then. Tell me what the problem is with this book. Talking it through with a stranger who doesn’t know the first thing about romance novels might help.”

Her nose wrinkled as if she’d smelled something bad. Ah. Not convinced I’d be at all helpful.

I chuckled. “I promise I’m not one of those assholes who think romance books are bits of fluff, or mommy porn, or countless other misogynistic put-downs women get for loving the idea of love and happy endings.” I motioned to her. “What harm can it do?”

She massaged her temples. “It’s complicated. I’m not sure where to begin.”

“I usually find starting at the beginning helps.” I accepted a glass of champagne from the steward. Jill helped herself to an orange juice.

“You’re a funny guy.”

“I try.”

She sipped her juice. “I’ve always loved reading. I started dabbling in storytelling in high school, but it was only after I left college that I dared to dream that I could make it my full-time job. I self-published my first novel a year after I graduated, and I went on to publish another fourteen novels. I was doing okay, more than making a living, and I was happy. Then a TikTok that a reader made about my last book went viral, and everything changed.”

“In what way?”

“One of the biggest publishers in the world contacted me. They wanted to re-cover and rebrand that book and get it into every bookstore in the world. The idea of seeing my precious baby on bookshelves turned my head, and I signed a five-book deal. They kept their promises. My relaunched book hit number one on the New York Times and Sunday Times bestseller lists a week after the new copy went live, and it’s stayed on those lists in the six months since.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes and no. I mean, it’s a dream come true to know how many people have read and continue to enjoy my books. That’s what I do this job for, really. The readers. They’re the ones who matter. They’re the ultimate judges of whether something is good or bad, and I have some of the best readers in the world.”

It all sounded pretty damn perfect so far. “I’m waiting for the punch line.”

She gave me a tight, brief smile. “My publisher wanted me to write a follow-up in the same world, with the same couple, and that’s where the problems began.”