Page 15 of Bitter Heat

How random was that? If his assistant wasn’t a reader, he would be none the wiser. “Did you ask her not to…?”

“She won’t reveal your identity.”

She scrubbed a hand down her face. “Oh, my God.”

“You won’t be able to keep it a secret for long.”

“Why not?”

“You’re regularly featured on the bestsellers list. It’s just a matter of time before someone you know figures it out. How long do you think you can keep your identity a secret?”

“Forever.”

“Why’d you veer away from writing as Minnie Hess?”

“They weren’t selling, and I wanted to write something more…” She pursued her lips as she searched for the right word. “Adult.”

“Thalia’s adult, all right.”

She shot him a quelling glance. “I started writing as Thalia when you moved to London, and I was still in college. I was… exploring.” She had been romanticizing her life like a naïve idiot, but the series had morphed into something else. The books gave her an anchor when her life turned upside down.

She studied him surreptitiously. If her readers could see the inspiration for her anti-hero, Rex, they would understand why she risked everything for him. Roth still dripped sex appeal. His size wasn’t just for looks either. When they had sex, he used every inch of his body to drill her. He was a bastard, but he was still sexy as fuck. Couldn’t he have gotten fat or lost an eye or something? Shit.

She sighed and snuggled into the cushions and pretended they were stuffed with feathers instead of flat as pancakes. “You were right.”

“About what?”

“I wasn’t cut out for the business world. I would have worked under my sisters and followed their lead if you hadn’t come along and told me to follow my passion. That’s one good thing that came out of our marriage so… thanks.”

“You built a career from our sex life.”

She gave him a saccharine smile. “I’ll put you in the acknowledgments for the next book.”

“You do that. I have a fan base.”

Her smile melted into a glare. His eyes moved over her with an intimacy that made her want to slap him.

“You need more material?” he asked.

“I’ll pass.”

“Why did you come here, Jasmine?”

“Why do you keep asking me that? I wanted a change of scenery.”

“That’s not it. What happened in New York?”

“Nothing happened—” she began, but the lie caught in her throat, and she stopped. She took a deep breath and then another. Something trickled down her face. She raised a shaking hand to her cheek and stared at her wet fingertips.

“Jasmine.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reach for her. She stumbled to her feet with the quilt wrapped around her. She put some distance between them as she tried to stuff her emotions back into the box where they belonged. She couldn’t break down here. He was the last person she wanted to see her like this, but grief didn’t care where she was. It wanted its pound of flesh.

“Jasmine.”

When she felt his hand close around the back of her neck, she jerked away.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed as she swiped at the hot tears slipping down her face.

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