Free Grand Passion by Jayne Ann Krentz

personal thing,” Cleo said. “I won't mind people knowing I wrote A Fine Vengeance . But The Mirror has too much of me inside it.”
    “I understand,” Sylvia said gently.
    Cleo shifted restlessly. “I told Nolan that I don't want to deal with the snide remarks people will make, but the truth is, I don't want to deal with their rude curiosity. I had too much of that kind of thing after my parents died. People asked me the most awful, personal questions about what it had been like to find them—” Cleo broke off abruptly. “There's no telling what kind of questions they'd ask about The Mirror .”
    Sylvia put a comforting arm around her. “It's all right, Cleo. Take it easy. The most important question at the moment is, who told Nolan?”
    “I don't know,” Cleo admitted. “Someone put a copy of the book into his mailbox, along with a note saying I'd written The Mirror . The note also said that I'd make a very unsuitable wife for a man with political ambitions.”
    “My God, that's downright weird. No wonder you've been upset all afternoon. What did Nolan say?”
    Cleo smiled wryly. “He said I was no longer a viable candidate for the position of Mrs. Nolan Hildebrand. Said my pornographic past could seriously jeopardize his political career. He hoped I'd understand why he was dumping me.”
    “Why, that little slimeball,” Sylvia muttered. “I trust you told him to take a long walk off a short pier?”
    “It's over, and it really doesn't matter. My relationship with Nolan never amounted to much in the first place.” Cleo met Sylvia's worried gaze. “I don't want the rest of the family to know about the note. It would only upset everyone.”
    Sylvia nodded in agreement. “All right. I won't mention it. But what about Nolan? Won't he tell everyone you wrote that book?”
    Cleo smiled wryly. “I doubt it. He doesn't want anyone to know he associated, however briefly, with a woman of doubtful virtue.”
    “No offense, Cleo, because I know you liked him, but the guy's a jerk. He's probably got a brilliant political career ahead of him.”
    Cleo started to respond and stopped short when she saw Sammy running toward them down the hall. The little boy was dressed in his pajamas. He grasped Lucky Ducky firmly in one small fist.
    “What are you doing up, honey?” Sylvia asked in concern. “You're supposed to be asleep.”
    “Can't sleep.” Sammy clung to his mother's hand and pressed close to her leg.
    “A bad dream?” Cleo asked gently.
    “No.” Sammy hugged Lucky Ducky close. “Trisha's crying.”
    “She is?” Cleo frowned. Trisha slept in the room next to Sammy's
    “Won't stop.” Sammy turned his face into Sylvia's skirt.
    “I'll go up and see what's wrong,” Cleo said. “Don't worry about her, Sammy. I'm sure she'll be fine.”
    Sammy nodded but did not raise his head. Sylvia picked him up and hugged him tightly. “Cleo will talk to her, honey. Everything will be okay.”
    “Trisha's probably unhappy because Benjy's gone,” Cleo said. She exchanged a glance with Sylvia. “Keep an eye on things here.”
    “Right,” Sylvia said. “Max and I can handle the lounge crowd.”
    Sammy brightened suddenly as he caught sight of Max behind the bar. “There's Max. Hi, Max.” He waved Lucky Ducky in greeting.
    Max glanced toward the door. His gaze went to Sammy and then to Cleo. He put down the bottle of sherry he had been wielding and walked over to join the small group in the doorway.
    “Something wrong?” he asked quietly.
    “Trisha's crying,” Sammy explained. “Cleo's going to go make her feel better.”
    “I see.” Max watched Cleo intently. “Do you think it's serious?”
    “From Trisha's point of view, yes,” Cleo said. “She's worried about Benjy. There's been no word from him. I'll be right back.”
    Cleo turned away and hurried toward the back stairs. She was not surprised by the announcement that Trisha was in tears. She had been concerned about her since last night, when