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“She confessed.”
His heart knocked against his chest. It was difficult to keep his features impassive. “What? Who? Confessed what?”
“I told Nadia that I was on to her. That I could see through her and knew that she had designs on you.”
“Designs?” he repeated with amusement. “What quaint phraseology.”
“I didn’t use it to be cute, Noah,” she said testily. “Today I had lunch with a woman who told me to my face that she wants to sleep with you.”
He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Maris. For God’s sake. Nadia wants to sleep with every man. She’s made it her life’s quest. She’s one giant, raging hormone. She’s come on to me, sure. Do you think I’m that easily flattered? She also comes on to waiters and doormen and probably to her garbage collector.”
“A lot of men find her attractive.”
“She is. But I didn’t have an affair with her when I was single, and I sure as hell wouldn’t jeopardize my marriage to you by having one with her now.” He sighed and shook his head ruefully. “Is that what all this has been about? You let Nadia upset you?”
“No. I was more upset over the WorldView thing than I was about Nadia. If you want Nadia, then you deserve her.”
He forced himself to smile. “I’m glad you gave me an opportunity to explain both misunderstandings. These things shouldn’t fester. It’s bad for our marriage.”
He gave her a few moments to ruminate on that, then smiled the tentative smile of a scolded puppy. “If that’s the end of the interrogation, I’d like to hug my interrogator.”
Since she didn’t raise any barriers, either real or suggested, he joined her where she stood and placed his arms around her. He pressed his face into her hair. “I was angry when I made that ludicrous statement about chronic PMS, but it has a basis of truth, doesn’t it? You’re not yourself.” He stroked her back. “Was that little island so horrible?”
“I wondered if you were ever going to express any interest in my trip.”
“That’s unfair, Maris. Since your return, you haven’t exactly invited conversation. You’ve been sullen and standoffish. In fact, I’ve considered approaching you with a chair and whip.” Undaunted by her failure to laugh, he kissed her temple. “How was your trip? What’s the island like?”
“Not horrible at all. Different.”
“From what?”
He felt her shrug. “It’s hard to explain. Just different.”
“And the author, was he as difficult to work with as you expected?”
“More difficult than I expected.”
“We’ve got an impressive slate of books to publish next year from our authors under contract. Why bother with this recluse?”
“Because he writes well. Very well.”
“But is he worth the difficulty he puts you through?”
“I won’t give up on this book, Noah.”
“I’m only thinking of you. If working with him makes you edgy and—”
“It doesn’t.”
Luckily she couldn’t see his expression or she would have realized how close she came to being slapped senseless for interrupting him. He took a moment to tamp down his anger before asking in a deceptively pleasant voice, “What is this literary marvel’s name?”
“I’m sworn to secrecy.”
“Isn’t he carrying the anonymity to a ludicrous degree?”
“There’s a reason. He’s disabled.”
“How so?”
