Suddenly a Bride / A Bride After All: Suddenly a Bride. Кейси Майклс

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      His sandy hair was always too long and a bit shaggy, but she couldn’t imagine him any other way. He may be getting just a little thicker around his waist, but he was still a very fit man. He played golf twice a week and had his own fully equipped exercise room he used … well, when he remembered to use it.

      His eyes were brown, like hers, but rather deeper-set, the lines around them a sign of too many hours in front of the computer but flattering in the way that wrinkles made a man more interesting while they only made a woman look older.

      Yes, he was a handsome man. If he was, again, a woman, he’d be described as a well-preserved forty-five. As a man, it would more probably be said that he was just entering his prime. And she was twenty-eight, not exactly a teenager. That wasn’t so terrible, was it?

      Chessie had seemed to think so. Or were her reservations centered more on what she saw as other problems?

      “Richard?” she asked when he didn’t smile as she finished telling him about Mikey’s horrified reaction to learn that there would be yucky girls on his baseball team. Girls and seven-year-old boys were like oil and water, it seemed. “Have you been listening to me?”

      “Yes, of course. The boys bought mitts and gloves and shoes. And bats! Let me reimburse you for those. God knows you’re grossly underpaid. Your employer should be shot.”

      His eyes kept drifting toward the monitor. Elizabeth stood up and walked around the desk, placing a kiss on his cheek. “You will not pay for their equipment, thank you. You’ve already paid for their registration. And now I’ll leave you alone because obviously I’ve interrupted you at some crucial moment in your story. But, first, may I see?”

      “I don’t think it’s quite ready for prime time, Elizabeth,” he said, moving the mouse to one of the corners of the monitor, so that the screen went black. “I’m trying something new, you understand.”

      “But … but you’re in the middle of a book.”

      “That can’t be helped. Sometimes a writer has to take a voyage of discovery, follow his muse where it leads. Or at least that sounds important, doesn’t it? Truthfully, I’m pretty much stuck on how to work the next scene in the current manuscript, so I’m playing with an idea I had the other day.”

      “A new character?”

      “No,” he said, looking somewhat sheepish. “A new genre. James Patterson does it. Others have done it, are doing it. Why shouldn’t I? I’m writing … trying to write … a love story.”

      Elizabeth was dumbfounded. “A love story? You mean a romance?”

      “No, my dear. When women write such books, they write romances. When men write them, they’re love stories.”

      “What’s the difference?”

      “Respect. Men get points for sensitivity and women get slammed for being sentimental and encouraging their readers to believe in fairy tales. Equality may be written about in books, but the publishing industry, or at least the critics and reviewers, are pretty much the last to acknowledge the fact.”

      “And that bothers you?”

      “Enough that John and I are going round and round about this book, if I do write it, if he can place it,” Richard said, referring to his agent. “What do you think of the pen name Anna Richards? My mother’s maiden name.”

      Elizabeth shook her head. “You really plan to publish this book as a woman? Why?”

      Richard pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up. “Why, so I can have it announced two weeks after publication that I, Richard Halstead, darling of the critics, am the real author.”

      “Because you don’t think the reviews will be as good as they are for your other books,” Elizabeth said, nodding. “But, Richard, what if they are?”

      “Damn. I hadn’t thought of that one.” He pulled her toward him and gave her a kiss on the forehead before slipping his arm around her waist and guiding her toward the doorway. She could have been his daughter, or his collie, Sam The Dog. “See why I need you, Elizabeth? Now I’m going to have to rethink the entire thing, aren’t I? Oh, and I have some news.”

      “Really? I’ve only been out of the house for a few hours, and already you’re writing a roman—a love story and changing your name while you’re at it.”

      “Not anymore. I think I’ll stick to my own name. I’m sure John will thank you for that. And I’m not even sure I’ll finish the book. I’ve only just begun it, and I’m honest enough to tell you that it isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Killing people is much less complicated than dealing with all these emotions. But, no, my real news is that I’m leaving tonight for my tour, heading to New York to do the Browardshow.”

      “Richard!” Elizabeth hugged him in genuine joy. “I know how you’ve longed to do that show. What a coup.”

      “There was a cancellation so I’m a second choice but not too proud to grab at it. But now I have to ask you to pack for me. Only enough for two days, and you can forward the rest of my luggage on to Detroit, my original launch city. Do you mind?”

      “Mind? Of course not. It’s why you so grossly underpay me, remember?” she said with a smile, beating down a selfish and probably dishonorable little voice inside her that was saying, Now you don’t have to tell him about Will. Not that there’s anything to tell him. Really.

      “I should have you writing my dialogue for me,” he said as he paused at the door, clearly escorting her out of his sanctum so he could get back to his love story, but doing it in such a tactful way that she really couldn’t mind. “John’s arranged for a car to pick me up at four, and he and I will have supper at my hotel. I’d hoped we could dine together tonight, Elizabeth, perhaps talk a bit more about … my proposal.”

      “That would have been very nice. But we wouldn’t want to be rushed about things, would we?” Elizabeth said, clutching at straws.

      Richard frowned as he looked down into her face. “I should take you to Rome. Or Paris. Be more romantic.”

      Elizabeth raised her hand to his cheek. “You have a deadline. You have this book tour. I understand.”

      “I’ll always have a deadline, Elizabeth,” he reminded her. “I’ll always have half my head living in a world filled with my own creations. There’s a part of me that’s still a selfish child, playing inside my own imagination. I’m not offering you a lot, am I?”

      “You’ve offered me everything you can give, and I’m more grateful than I can express. If … if I could just have a little more time …”

      “Yes,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “That’s precisely what she needs to say to him, and in just that way.” He gave Elizabeth a quick hug. “What would I do without you?”

      “I have no idea,” Elizabeth said quietly as she watched Richard hurry back to his computer. How strange. This morning, she would have been flattered and taken his words as yet another reason she should accept his proposal. But now? Now she felt no real satisfaction in being Richard’s assistant, Richard’s muse, Richard’s very good and comfortable companion. And she hated herself for СКАЧАТЬ