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So what was her problem?
Gretchen fiddled with the letter, thinking. Her gaze moved to the rose on her desk—a Papa Meilland. She recognized the dark, velvety petals and her body flushed, remembering yesterday in the greenhouse.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t fall in love with Hunter. She could very well see herself falling for him.
So what was the problem, exactly? Nothing, except that now she felt like her love had a deadline. Hunter had declared and she had to make a decision. A declaration wasn’t something you could leave hanging for months on end.
And Gretchen sucked at deadlines. They made her anxious and unhappy, as evidenced by her up-and-down publishing career. There was just something about other people’s expectations that made her freeze in place, unable to function.
And that wasn’t fair to Hunter.
Ergo, she was a jerk.
She put aside the letter, then studied her manuscript file of notes. Just from her transcripts, she had almost forty thousand words and two hundred letters between the two lovebirds. Really, that was more than enough for her to build her story around. Her editor didn’t need every letter transcribed, after all; no one would read an eight-hundred-page epistolary novel. They’d faint if she turned that in.
To be honest, Gretchen had the work she needed. She could go home early instead of staying at Buchanan Manor for another week, get a week’s start on her deadlines, and get that final chapter of Astronaut Bill and Uranea turned in.
But that idea didn’t appeal much at all, and this time it wasn’t just because of the sexist space adventurer. She wanted to stay another week and spend it in Hunter’s arms.
“Hell, Igor. Now I’ve gone all moony, haven’t I?” She reached over and idly scratched the cat’s belly. Igor was curled up next to her laptop, his skinny frame pulled into a tight ball. He always wedged himself carefully against the left side of her laptop, where the fan blew warm air. She didn’t mind it, though because she had company while she worked. “You just tell me if I’m being ridiculous, cat,” she told him with another pat.
And since she was going to stay another week despite everything, she might as well continue reading letters and looking for super-juicy ones. She pulled out the next and began to scan it, almost bored by the endless florid sexual details of Ben and Lula’s encounters.
Your games grow more and more scandalous, and more and more exciting, my beloved. Last Sunday’s interlude still swirls in my mind. I’ve played Blind Man’s Bluff many times before, but this was the first time I’ve played and made love.
Gretchen raised her eyebrows, a bit more interested. Sex in the middle of a parlor game? Kinky. This one was definite fodder for the book.
I was so surprised that you showed me the hidden passage in the library, darling. As many times as we’ve made love there, I pause and wonder if someone has perhaps spied on us. Surely not. How many could know about the secret panel you showed me? I wouldn’t mind going back to that room by myself, but I don’t remember which brick it was that you touched to make the room come alive. Do tell me, darling.
A secret passage? Gretchen’s sense of adventure got the better of her and she reached for the next letter, excited to find out more. She skimmed Ben’s bolder, slightly crabbed handwriting until she came to the answer.
It’s the brick to the right of the mantel, my love. If you look closely, you can see my initials carved into the caulk.
Okay, this she had to see for herself. Putting the letter aside, Gretchen got up and scanned the library for a fireplace. There were two of them, one at each end of the long room. She headed to the closest one and scanned the bricks, running her fingers along the grout, looking for imperfections. Nothing. She moved to the other fireplace, but it was nothing but smooth marble.
Huh. Gretchen paused, thinking. This was a large house and it was bound to have multiple libraries. Perhaps this was the wrong one? With the letter in hand, she gave Igor a quick pat on the head and headed out. She had no idea where another library was, but Hunter would know. Brightening, she headed for his office, smiling to herself. Now was she excited at the prospect of the fireplace door and having an excuse to interrupt Hunter. Did it even matter? She loved interrupting Hunter. This was just a delicious opportunity that had presented itself.
Gretchen headed to his office and knocked lightly on his door.
“Enter.”
She peeked inside and smiled at the sight of him. Even though no one was in the house but her and Hunter and Eldon, and Hunter worked alone, he was still dressed in one of his suits. Today’s was a dark brown ja
cket and a lighter brown tie to match. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running a hand through it. His brows were furrowed but his expression eased when she entered.
“Finished working?” Hunter stood to greet her. “It’s early.”
“Just momentarily distracted,” Gretchen told him, sauntering over to give him a kiss in greeting. She lightly brushed her lips across his and smoothed a stray cowlick of his hair. “Am I bothering you?”
“Yes,” he said bluntly. His hand moved to her waist, pulling her against him. “But I don’t mind it.”
She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck and sighing with pleasure when his hands caressed her ass. “You’re going to make me forget my mission.”
“Mission?”
“Mmmhmm.” She lightly traced a finger along his jaw, admiring the strong lines of his face that were marred by scars. “I’m looking for a secret passage.”
“Is that so?”
