Page 73 of An Accidental Love Affair

She shook her head at the irony. “I never paid attention to it before, but I guess you’re right. He’s my be all, end all. He’s my Mo.”

“Mo?”

“Yeah, after him, there will be no mo.”

Laura chuckled. “That’s a great line. You should use it in a story.” She nudged Nicole’s shoulder. “Or let me use it.”

Nicole slapped her hand on the bedspread. “You write historical romances. That saying would never work in nineteenth century speech.”

“Maybe I should try my hand at women’s fiction.”

“Or Young Adult. It could work there.”

“I can’

t write Young Adult; too much kinky stuff.”

“Maybe you could tame the kink.”

“I happen to like the kink.”

Nicole frowned at her clasped fingers. “What if he tries to convince me he’s innocent?”

“What if he does? The question is, will you believe him?” She tossed the phone into Nicole’s lap. “Call him back. Arrange to see him. Rock his world and issue your demands. The worst he can do is say no.” Laura slid from the bed, walking to the door. “At least you’ll walk away with sticky panties and a satisfied vagina.”

Nicole laughed, throwing a pillow at the door. “Go away, devil on my shoulder.” When the door was closed, she stared at the phone in her lap, still contemplating what to do.

With a huge sigh, she dialed the number to the Savoy, asking for Reece Collins’ room. She was informed there was no one registered by that name. She hung up, called back, asking for Mr. Hammer. Again, no one was registered by that name.

She didn’t know what to do. He didn’t leave an alias to contact him with. She’d try one last thing. If she was wrong, she’d hop the train in the morning to visit his parent’s estate.

“Good evening, thank you for calling the Savoy. How may I direct your call?”

“Could I have Mr. Woodhouse’s room, please?”

“Of course, madam. Please hold a moment.”

The phone rang. He picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

She cleared her throat. “You’re going by your real name?”

There was relief in his voice when he answered. “Nicole? I didn’t think you’d call me back.”

“I wasn’t going to. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I can explain . . .”

Her mouth twisted. “I tried explaining, but you wouldn’t listen either. Instead, you stole my manuscript.”

“I didn’t steal it, Nicole,” he stated firmly, frustration in his voice.

“I don’t want to hear it, Reece.” She was whispering at this point; her throat was dry. “Can we meet? I have something I want to give to you.”

“I’m hotel-bound until tomorrow. Can you come here?”

She slid from the bed. “Are there reporters hanging around outside?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile.”

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