Suddenly You(35)

“Everyone here works for you,” she pointed out. “Whoever you send for will certainly take your side.”

“You’re right,” he allowed cheerfully. He held out his hand for the page, which she clutched all the more tightly. “Give it over, Amanda.”

“Miss Briars to you,” she returned smartly, and although she was not precisely smiling, he sensed that she was enjoying the exchange as much as he. “And I will not give you this page. I insist that it remain in the manuscript. What do you make of that?”

The challenge was too much for Jack to resist. They had already done a great deal of work that morning, and now he was ready to play. Something about Amanda absolutely compelled him to throw her off-balance. “If you don’t give it to me,” he said softly, “I’m going to kiss you.”

Amanda blinked in astonishment. “What?” she asked faintly.

Jack didn’t bother to repeat himself, with the words still rippling in the air between them, like the rings that spread when a stone dropped into a pond.

“Make your choice, Miss Briars.” Jack discovered that he very much hoped she would push him to the limit. It would take very little provocation for him to carry out his threat. He had wanted to kiss her ever since she had set foot in his office that morning. The prim manner she had of pressing her lips together, distorting the voluptuous shape of her mouth…it distracted him to the point of madness. He wanted to kiss her senseless, until she was soft and receptive to whatever he wanted.

He saw Amanda struggle for composure, her body tensing. Hectic color crowded her face, and her fingers tautened until they began to crimp the page she so zealously protected. “Mr. Devlin,” she said in the crisp voice that never failed to arouse him, “surely you don’t play these ridiculous games with your other writers.”

“No, Miss Briars,” he said gravely, “I’m afraid you’re the sole recipient of my romantic attentions.”

The phrase “romantic attentions” seemed to rob her of speech. Her silver-gray eyes went round with astonishment. At that moment Jack was equally astonished to discover that although he had planned to leave her alone, he was powerless to control his reaction to her. His playfulness was abruptly shoved aside by deeper, more urgent instincts.

Although it was in his best interest to preserve a semblance of harmony between them, he did not want an amiable working relationship. He did not want an imitation of friendship. He wanted to bother and disconcert her, and make her aware of him in the same way that he was aware of her.

“No doubt it is some manner of compliment to be included in the great number of women who have received such attentions from you,” Amanda finally said. “However, I haven’t asked to be subjected to this sort of nonsense.”

“Are you going to give me that page?” he asked with deceptive mildness.

Scowling, Amanda seemed to make a sudden decision, crumpling the parchment in her hands until it formed a tight, neat ball. She strode to the fireplace and tossed it into the flames, where it burned in molten radiance. Fire outlined the edges of the crumpled paper in blue-white heat, while the center of the ball rapidly charred and turned black.

“The page is gone,” Amanda announced flatly. “You’ve gotten your way—now you should be satisfied.”

Her gesture had been intended to dispel the tension between them, and it should have. However, the atmosphere remained curiously heavy and electric, like the burgeoning stillness that occurred just before a lightning-storm. Jack’s usual easy smile felt tight as he spoke to her. “There have only been a few times in my life when I’ve been sorry to have gotten my way. This is one of them.”

“I do not wish to play games with you, Mr. Devlin. I want to finish the work before us.”

“Finish the work,” he repeated, and saluted her like a soldier receiving orders from his commanding officer. Going back to his desk, he braced his hands on the mahogany surface and inspected his notes. “It’s done, actually. These first thirty pages will make an excellent first installment. As soon as you finish the revisions we discussed, I’ll have it printed.”

“Ten thousand copies?” she asked tentatively, remembering the number he had promised her.

“Yes.” Jack smiled at her uneasy expression, knowing exactly what she was worried about. “Miss Briars,” he murmured, “it will sell. I have an instinct about these things.”

“I suppose you must,” she said doubtfully. “However…this particular story…many people will have objections to it. It is more sensational and…well, more lurid than I remembered. I did not take a strong enough moral position on the heroine’s behavior—”

“That’s why it will sell, Miss Briars.”

Amanda laughed suddenly. “Just as Madam Bradshaw’s book did.”

The discovery that she was willing to poke fun at herself was as pleasant to him as it was unexpected. Jack pushed back from the desk and came to stand next to her. Subjected to his sudden proximity, Amanda was unable to look directly into his face, her gaze sliding from the window to the floor, then latching onto the top button of his coat.

“Your sales will far exceed those of the celebrated Mrs. Bradshaw’s,” he told her, smiling. “And that’s not because of any so-called lurid content. You’ve told a good story in a skillful manner. I like it that you haven’t moralized about your heroine’s mistakes. You’ve made it difficult for the reader not to sympathize with her.”