broadly similar tastes in music, but differed widely on films. And the wine was wonderful.
By the time he left an hour later, she found she’d agreed to accompany him to the theatre the following week, and when he paused at the front door, cupping her chin gently in his hand and bending towards her, she allowed his kiss, which was brief, undemanding, yet undeniably pleasant.
Alone, Tallie smiled as she re-corked what was left of the wine, preparatory to putting it in the fridge, and began to wash the glasses.
There was no denying that Justin was an extremely attractive man. And, with his fair hair and blue eyes, exactly her type, as well as being practically a template for William in her book.
I based him originally on Gareth, she thought. And when Gareth turned out to be not the person I’d hoped, I think I may have stopped believing in William too, and that’s why I’m having all these problems in bringing him to life. But maybe it will be easier to put him centre stage from now on.
As for Hugo Cantrell, who was becoming almost too real, and who might have to be killed off in some unpleasant way …
‘You look very fierce,’ Mark commented from the doorway. ‘Is something wrong?’
She almost dropped the glass she was drying. ‘I—I didn’t hear you come in.’
‘Evidently. You were lost in thought.’ He looked at the wine bottle on the counter top. ‘Been entertaining?’
‘Yes, as it happens.’ Her tone was defensive.
‘May I guess the identity of your visitor?’ The note of amusement in his voice was not lost on her.
She stared at him. ‘Did you tell him to come?’
‘As if.’ He leaned a shoulder against the door frame. ‘So where’s he taking you?’
‘To the new Leigh Hanford play,’ she admitted unwillingly.
‘It’s had good reviews,’ he said casually. ‘He’s lucky to get tickets.’
She frowned. ‘Did you have anything to do with that?’
‘Why, Miss Paget,’ he drawled, ‘what a suspicious mind you have. I suppose it comes from working out plots.’
‘Probably,’ she said. ‘And now I must go and work out some more of them. Goodnight, Mr Benedict.’
‘Goodnight to you, Miss Paget.’ He added softly, ‘I hope your dreams are sweet.’
Tallie hoped so too as she headed towards her room, but they would have to be delayed. First she would have to find some way of dealing with Hugo Cantrell. After all, the wretched man seemed to be taking over the book, and that was the last thing she wanted. So he would have to go. Painfully and permanently.
At the same time it occurred to her that, although she might be able to remove him from the manuscript, it would not be so easy to erase his dark-haired, green-eyed image from her mind.
Not when she was living with the real thing.
A disturbing reflection that pursued her for the remainder of the night, so that the dreams that eventually punctuated her sleep were restless and uneasy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘SO,’ LORNA said eagerly, ‘tell me what he’s like.’
‘Arrogant,’ Tallie said coldly. ‘Serial womaniser. Fortunately, I don’t have to see much of him.’
Lorna gaped at her. ‘Then why are you taking all this trouble, if he’s so frightful?’
‘Oh—’ Tallie flushed ‘—you’re talking about Justin.’
And I should be too, she told herself. Talking about him, thinking about, dreaming about him. And not sparing Mark Benedict a second thought.
Especially when he’s barely addressed two consecutive sentences to me since his stepmother’s visit three weeks ago. He said he owed me, she thought. Yet now he seems to have cut me off completely. Iced me quite deliberately.
‘Damn right I’m talking about Justin,’ said Lorna.
‘Well …’ Tallie considered ‘ … he’s … lovely. Just as nice as I thought, and I’m having dinner with him tomorrow night at Pierre Martin.’
‘Very smart,’ her friend approved. ‘Also expensive. And you need me to help along the good work by lending you something to wear.’ She waved at the open door of her wardrobe. ‘Take your pick.’
‘I just don’t know,’ Tallie said, peering wildly along the rail. ‘You choose for me.’
‘Hmm.’ Lorna gave her a shrewd once-over. ‘Do you want “Touch me not” or “Come and get me”?’
Tallie blushed more deeply. ‘Maybe somewhere in between,’ she hedged.
‘Wimp,’ Lorna said, not unkindly. She paused. ‘Tallie, you’re not nervous about this dinner date, are you?’
‘I think I could be,’ Tallie admitted. ‘Up to now, it’s all been pretty low-key, but I have a feeling that’s going to change. And I don’t know what to expect.’ She sighed. ‘Or what he’ll expect either.’
‘Well, being a man, he’ll undoubtedly be hoping,’ Lorna returned dryly. ‘Especially after dinner and a bottle of wine at Pierre Martin has cost him an arm and a leg. Presumably, he’s attractive.’
‘Very,’ Tallie said emphatically.
‘And you trust him?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Then what are you waiting for?’ Lorna demanded robustly. ‘Just—go with the flow.’
She took a dark red dress from the wardrobe and Tallie’s eyes widened. ‘That’s fabulous.’
‘It’s a good simple style, not too low-cut, not too short.’ Lorna held it against her to demonstrate. ‘And the colour should be good for you as well. Stop you looking like your own ghost.’
She rummaged in the bottom of the wardrobe. ‘And there are shoes to match, plain and not too high. You don’t want to risk taking a nosedive, or spraining your ankle.’
That, Tallie thought, could be the least of my problems.
She wasn’t sure why she felt so edgy, she thought, as she got ready for her date the following evening. Up to now, she’d enjoyed the moments she’d spent in Justin’s arms, for heaven’s sake, and she was sure he was far too decent a man to apply undue pressure, or push her into something she wasn’t ready for.
But he’d been letting her go with more and more reluctance. Which seemed to indicate that he now wanted their relationship to be more than just friendly. And maybe she should stop worrying and regard the night ahead as simply a step on the way to falling in love with a man she liked.
But
