Shameless Playboy (28 page)

 
          
“Grace,”
her former boss said when he saw them come in, his round face creasing with
concern. “What are you doing? I thought you understood that you were not
welcome here.”

 
          
“She
is with me,” Lucas bit off with absolutely no sign of his famous charm, and
perhaps a shade too much of the seething danger she had always seen in him. “And
by definition always welcome, is that not so?”

 
          
The
other man paled. Grace put her hand on Lucas’s arm, and smiled her cool smile
at Charles Winthrop.

 
          
“Don’t
worry,” she said in her best calm, cutting way. “I am only a guest. But you can
be sure that as of Monday morning, I’ll be your competitor. Who knows where?
Perhaps I’ll go out on my own. But rest assured, I have no intention of simply
drifting off into the ether because you fired me.”

 
          
She
had enjoyed the look on his face more than she should have. But then, she had
never claimed to be a good person, had she? And in any case, Lucas was smiling
at her, in a way she knew he had never smiled at anyone else. In a way that was
only hers. Theirs.

 
          
It
heated her up like the Texas summers of her youth. The man was lethal, and she
loved him.

 
          
“Come,
Cinderella,” he said quietly, smiling as he drew her toward the dance floor. “It’s
coming up to midnight. Do try to keep your shoes on.”

 
          
She
did not care about the cameras, the staring and whispering former staff
members, the entire rest of the world. She moved into his arms, and let him
lead her into the music.

 
          
“I’m
beginning to understand the point of the fairy tale,” she said, smiling up at
him, losing herself in the hot, bright gleam in his green eyes. “Who cares if I
lose a shoe?”

 
          
“Who,
indeed?” he asked softly, and swept them both away.

 
          
Much
later, when the party had ended and most of the guests had dispersed, Lucas led
her away from the tent and out onto the great lawn, where she could see the
moon was just starting to rise over the trees. For a moment they stood there,
side by side in silence, and gazed out over the darkened grounds. She shivered
slightly when he turned to look at her, and told herself it was from the chill
in the air.

 
          
“I
walked around these grounds for hours today,” he said quietly. “I thought I
would confront myself—or my father’s ghost. Perhaps I thought they were the
same. But there was nothing here. Only an angry fool tramping about in the
cold.”

 
          
“It
is just a house,” she said softly. “Just some land. And he is only here as long
as you keep him here.”

 
          
He
looked at her for a long moment.

 
          
“The
only ghost I seem to be haunted by these days is you,” he said, his voice a
rasp against the thick night all around them.

 
          
“I
am no ghost,” she assured him, feeling a rush of heat to her eyes and fire to
her core, an ache behind her ribs. “I am real and I am right here, Lucas.”

 
          
“I
have no idea at all how to build a new life without burning the old one to the
ground,” he said. “But I suppose we do not all need to be phoenixes, rising
from the ashes, do we? Some of can simply walk on. Change.”

 
          
“We
can grow,” she agreed in a whisper, heedless of the tears that overflowed and
tracked down her cheeks, basking only in the great white heat of the joy that
moved through her. “Live. Without ghosts and without fear.”

 
          
Grace
nestled against him, tucked into his side as if she’d been made to fit him that
precisely, that well. As if she was meant to be his, and there, in the dark and
facing all of his ghosts full-on, he let himself believe it.

 
          
The
manor house stood behind them, covered in scaffolding, drenched in the past and
lit up by the rising moon. Lucas took one last, hard look at it as the lights
from the gala went off, one by one, leaving nothing to see but stone and brick
and memories.

 
          
It
was just a house. And he was free of it.

 
          
Finally.

 
          
“Yes,”
he said, kissing her again. “All of that, Grace. I want all of it. And you.”

 
          
He
took her hand in his, and together they walked down the great lawn toward the
lane, toward the village and the world beyond, away from Wolfe Manor at last.

 
          
And
straight on into their future.

 
          
Alone
with only his traumatic thoughts as company, Jacob spent his nights in bars,
refusing alcohol, testing his self-control to the limits. An easy way out,
drinking would only bring him one step closer to becoming the man he’d once
despised. Women and meaningless sex block out the world, but the encounters
never last and Jacob keeps moving on, with just the knowledge that he must
never put down roots …

 
          
Share a secret about your hero or heroine?

 
          
Lucas
and Grace have a whole mess of secrets—that’s what made their story so much fun
to tell!

 
          
Who is the biggest, baddest Wolfe?

 
          
I
suspect it must be Jacob. I can’t wait to read his book!

 
          
Which Wolfe brother did you most fancy?

 
          
Lucas,
definitely. I just adored him so much.

 
          
Which is your hero’s favourite room in
Wolfe Manor?

 
          
He
would prefer to burn the whole place to the ground, actually.

 
          
How did Lucas pop the big question?

 
          
He
hasn’t yet! I imagine they’ll wait a while, learn how to really trust each
other, and then I think Lucas will simply ask. I think what they love most
about each other is that they no longer have to hide behind their masks.

 
          
What do you enjoy most about writing as
part of a continuity series; how does it differ from writing a single title?

 
          
I
was very nervous about it! But I found that it was a lot like a big puzzle. I
had to take all these different elements and craft my kind of story out of it,
rather than having all of that happen simultaneously and organically. I ended
up loving the entire experience!

 
          
What do you think makes a great
hero/heroine?

 
          
I
love strong, passionate men and women who make mistakes, face their fears, and
find a way to live a bit more true to themselves. And love each other with
their whole hearts. No matter what.

 
          
When you are writing, what is a typical
day?

 
          
I
wake up, stagger to the computer with my tea, and check e-mail, various online
sites, etc. I do this for far too long. Then I settle into the day’s writing. I
have a set amount I write each day, and I can’t allow myself to do anything
else until I’ve finished. On a bad day, this is a struggle. On a good day, I
get carried away in the characters’ stories and don’t pay any attention to how
much I’ve written until hours and hours have passed. The good days are what
make this all so much fun!