AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘I don’t think moles go in for sunbathing, and certainly not in purple bikinis,’ he murmured, showing that he was not as impervious as she had supposed. ‘They’re very solitary, dark-loving creatures, with powerful appetites…’
‘That sounds familiar. Maybe you’re the mole,’ she suggested.
‘With what mission—to betray myself?’
‘Well, it would cut out the middle man.’
A flicker of amusement in his eyes indicated a mocking self-awareness—but as usual when their conversation threatened to breach his invisible walls he deflected her attention away from himself. ‘At least we’ve narrowed down the list of possible motives for you being here. The process of elimination will eventually bring us down to the truth.’
‘“You can’t handle the truth!” The angry quote from A Few Good Men floated into her mind and tripped off her tongue before she could stop it.
‘Not been around long enough to qualify as a classic yet, Kate, but it was Jack Nicholson playing Colonel Jessep. And he was wrong, wasn’t he? Because people are constantly having to adjust to newly revealed truths…it’s called living…’
‘Some people are too busy crying wolf on their friends or looking for reds-under-the-bed to fully engage in living,’ she said, suddenly feeling on the brink of tears. She wasn’t going to be stampeded into telling him about their baby in a burst of anger at his wilful lack of understanding. ‘Or, in your case, perhaps I should say reds-in-the-bed!’
In a flutter of iridescent green she turned to flounce back into the house, but was halted as he grabbed a piece of handkerchief hem.
‘Melissa’s a freelance editor.’
Kate stilled at the revelation, but didn’t turn around. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice rusty with reluctance. ‘She’s worked on nearly all of my books. I pay her to read the manuscripts for me, give me an overview and correct punctuation and grammar before I send them in. Why do you think my manuscripts are so polished when they land up at Enright’s?’
Kate turned slowly, tethered by his fistful of green gauze. She had heard that he only ever required the occasional line-edit. ‘But doesn’t the editorial department usually do all that stuff?’
He hunched his shoulders. ‘I don’t get a say at who Marcus employs—I don’t like people I don’t know taking over and changing things. But I had to do something after the nightmare I went through over the editing on the first book. I have a mild form of dyslexia and never paid much attention to formal English at school so I have two strikes against me. But it is my story to tell—and I want to give the nit-pickers as little excuse as possible to tinker with my intentions.’
The light bulb went on inside her head. Of course. This was a Drake Daniels she knew very well. He would do everything he could to minimise the exposure of his weaknesses to others. It was all about control.
‘But you let Melissa tinker,’ she said, eaten up with a jealousy that was far more than sexual.
‘We go over it together. She’s good at what she does. I know she’ll fix the technicalities and throw in a few criticisms and leave the final interpretation to me.’
‘Does Marcus know?’
‘He doesn’t need to know.’ He shrugged. ‘He doesn’t care about the process; all he cares about is that I deliver him a saleable book at the end of it.’
Kate stared at him. She shouldn’t be so surprised. Need to know. He operated his whole life on that basis.
His fist tightened, putting tension on her wrap as he misinterpreted her long look. ‘I suppose now you’re wondering if she’s more a ghost-writer than an editor.’
It had never even occurred to her. Knowing Drake, she would bet that Melissa had a major battle on her hands with every altered comma.
‘Actually, I was wondering how long you two have been together.’
‘We’re not together,’ he rejected instantly. ‘I send her chunks of the book to read and she comes here to work with me on the edit, that’s all. It never takes more than a few days.’
‘She calls you “Darling”.’
‘She calls everybody “Darling”.’ He clenched his teeth. ‘Melissa and I have never slept together.’
His statement fell starkly between them. ‘But she obviously would like to,’ said Kate.
‘A lot of women want to sleep with me; that doesn’t mean I do,’ he snapped impatiently, hitting on a source of increasing agony for Kate.
‘Why not? What’s to hold you back?’ she gouged viciously at the open wound.
‘For God’s sake, Kate, I’m not interested and Melissa knows it. Nor is she. That was all an act! She makes a mint off her contract with me, she wouldn’t ever want to jeopardise it. Apart from anything else she’s married.’
‘That’s no barrier these days.’
