With Seduction in Mind by Laura Lee Guhrke

Author:Laura Lee Guhrke [Guhrke, Laura Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
ISBN: 9780061456831
Published: 2009-08-13T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The trade of authorship is a violent and indestructible obsession.

George Sand

He hated to write. Daisy found that difficult to comprehend. The moments she spent inventing stories were some of the happiest moments of her day. And he was Sebastian Grant, the most prolific and acclaimed writer of their generation. How could he be so accomplished at something he hated?

That afternoon, she sat at her desk, pretending to read over her last few chapters, as she studied him covertly and tried to understand. The hostility in his voice when he’d talked about writing was undeniable, and it explained why he hadn’t supplied Marlowe Publishing with a manuscript for three years, and why he was fighting her tooth and nail, but how could she help him overcome his animosity? If he hated his work, if he didn’t want to do it anymore, what could she say or do to change that? The little suggestions she’d provided earlier seemed woefully inadequate. What more could she do?Probably nothing, she acknowledged with uncharacteristic pessimism. After all, one person couldn’t force another to like something.

But what had caused this aversion to his work? And how could it be overcome?

She took another peek at him, watching him read his manuscript. As he scribbled something along the side of one sheet, a lock of his black hair fell over his forehead. He brushed it back in an absent-minded gesture, then reached for her letter. His finger moved down the page as if he were searching for something, and when he stopped at a particular paragraph, she saw a frown knit his dark brows. He tapped it with his fingertip, his frown deepening.

Was he displeased by something she’d said? Angry? Perplexed?

Before she could decide, he set down the letter, inked his quill, and scribbled another note in the margin. “Turnabout is fair play, I assume?” he asked without looking up.

Daisy blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You chided me for staring at you,” he said, his gaze still focused on the pages spread out before him. “Yet you’ve been watching me all afternoon.”

“Nonsense.” She lowered her gaze. “You aren’t that fascinating.”

He chuckled. “Then to deserve such intense observation, I must have a spot of blackberry sauce from lunch on my chin and you are secretly laughing at me.”

She sighed, wishing she were a more accomplished liar. Setting down her quill, she plunked her elbows on the desk, then entwined her fingers and rested her chin on them. “All right, then,” she said as she watched him scribble another note in the margin of his manuscript, “Why do you hate writing?”

He did not pause. “If that question is what’s had you watching me all afternoon instead of working, why didn’t you just ask me?”

And she thought he’d been too absorbed in his own work to notice her observations. “Because it would be pointless. You’d just say it’s none of my business, and tell me to keep my impertinent questions to myself.”

“I might,” he acknowledged, “but I wouldn’t have thought you’d be daunted by that.

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