Dolby(21)
Author: Maryann Jordan
She jerked, realizing she’d spoken aloud. Shrugging, she decided she might as well go ahead and confess all… or at least more. She stepped away, and his hands fell from her shoulders. She instantly hated the loss of his comforting touch. Continuing toward the bookcase, she waved her hand nervously toward another row of print books below the mysteries. “These are also mine.”
His brow furrowed as he followed her, then leaned down to peer more closely. Jerking again, he widened his eyes, and another smile split his face. “You’re also Marcia Black? A romance novelist?”
She nodded again, uncertain what to say, noting it wasn’t a trait that Jonathan suffered from.
“Damn, woman. You’ve got two pen names and write best sellers under both! I can’t imagine how you do that. I can’t imagine how you keep everything straight.” He glanced back over at her desk, and his grin widened. “Of course, I know you have to be dedicated and disciplined, but it looks like colored pens and colored sticky notes help.”
At that, an unbidden giggle erupted, and she felt the oppressive weight lift off her shoulders. “It’s really all I do, so staying organized is not hard.”
He continued to peruse the books as they stood side by side. “I’m stunned to realize you created one of my favorite characters. Jesus, Marcia, you’re amazing.”
She looked up at him, warming under his praise. Years earlier, she’d discovered that awards and bestseller lists were nice, but the praise from her readers meant the world to her. A smile curved her lips again as her cheeks heated with a blush. “Thank you.”
As they moved away from the bookcase, he reached for her hand, and they walked over to the small loveseat and sat down. The touch was casual yet warm, the tingles moving up her arm. They sat close together, their hips and thighs touching, and he slid his arm around her. He was huge next to her, but instead of the usual crowded and overwhelmed feeling that had her ducking away from people, she forced her body to relax. Glancing up, she caught his smile.
“Can I ask how you started writing?” he asked.
She shrugged, her lips pressing together. It was such a simple question, one she’d been asked numerous times when giving written interviews arranged by Angela. “I always enjoyed writing, and when I was younger, I enjoyed… enjoyed… wanted…” The words came to a stumbling halt as she swallowed deeply. Unable to hide her distress, Jonathan shifted so her body faced his.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Holding his gaze, she spied the sincerity in his eyes.
“Honestly, Marcia, you don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. I want to know about you but never want you to feel like you have to offer me your secrets.”
Her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Swallowing deeply again, she blurted, “I have these canned answers to questions when doing written interviews. But… in truth, I’ve always loved to read. My… um… mom read to me all the time when I was little. My… dad teased that I always had my nose in a book. I loved mysteries… especially British mysteries.” Snorting, she amended, “More like I devoured them.” She quieted as her mind drifted back to when memories were all she had, and some were only slightly less painful than others. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, um… life… well, when I went to college, I needed to find a creative outlet. And so…” She shrugged, heat flooding her body. “I majored in English Literature and minored in Creative Writing. It was a way to… put life into… um… fall into myself.”
Her body tensed at her admission, praying he wouldn’t ask more about her family. Why did I bring them up? She worked to steady her breathing.
His arm tightened around her shoulders, and her attention snapped back to his face. His eyes captured hers, and she wondered if it was possible to drown in someone’s gaze. She’d certainly written those words before, but never until that moment did she believe they were true. Just staring into his eyes, she knew he wouldn’t ask for more. It was as though he’d realized she’d given all she could about her early life. Finally looking down, knowing it was the only way she could focus on what she was saying, she continued.
“It’s hard to break into the publishing business, but I met Angela. She loved the story I’d sent to her. She and I worked on my first book deal, and I was able to publish with a major publishing house. They were only interested in the mysteries. I release my romance novels as an indie author.”
“I’m embarrassed to confess that I always assumed M.B. Burns was a male. Jesus, that’s such a chauvinistic concept.”
“That’s how it used to be for a lot of female hard-core mystery or suspense authors in the past. Not so much anymore. But I wanted to write with a pen name for privacy, so the initials worked for both concepts.”
“M.B. Burns and Marcia Black. Pretty clever. I’d never think of them as being the same person. Has anyone else?”
She shook her head. “Lots of authors write in multiple genres. Different pen names aren’t unusual.” She sucked in a slightly shaky breath before letting it out. Unused to talking about herself, she felt more confident in his presence.
“I can only imagine that protecting your privacy is of ultimate concern. I know we’ve planned security systems for others in the public eye.”
“Oh, no one knows that I’m the one who writes these books. Staying out of the public eye is… um…” Silence ensued as she struggled to find the right word.
“Important, right?” he provided.
“Yes.” There was more she could say, but so far, today’s confessions had exhausted her.
“Angela is the only one who knows?” he asked, his penetrating gaze searching while his gorgeous lips curved.
The importance of their conversation wasn’t lost on her. Until this moment, Angela was the only person who knew that Marcia Blackburn was the author of two bestselling series. She should be terrified that she’d given away her secret. Perhaps she should be afraid, but staring into his face, all she felt was calm. And, in truth, also another emotion she hadn’t given in to in a long time… desire. She leaned forward just enough to see the indigo ring around his light blue irises. His lips were so near. Fear of the unknown and brazen longing warred within. The former emotion was one she understood intimately, but the latter was new for her.
His gaze dropped to her mouth again, but she held still. There was no way she was going to initiate a kiss, but she prayed that it was something he wanted and was willing to go after. His chest rose and fell with each second that seemed to stretch into eternity.