Free Grand Passion by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

about?”
    Cleo sighed and flopped down into a wingback chair. She stretched her legs out in front of her, shoved her hands into her pockets, and eyed Max thoughtfully. She was already regretting her impulse to confide in him.
    “There's not much to it, objectively speaking,” she admitted. “All I know is that some disgruntled reader has apparently decided to punish me for writing that book. He or she sent a really nasty letter to me last month.”
    “What did you do about it?” Max asked.
    “Nothing. What could I do? There was no signature. It was forwarded from my publishers, so I assumed the person who wrote it didn't have my real name and address. But this morning Nolan told me that someone left a copy of my book in his mailbox.”
    “Anonymously, I assume?”
    “Yes. Along with the warning that I wouldn't make a good date for a politician. And tonight I walk in here and find that ribbon on my pillow.”
    “You suspect you're being pestered by an outraged reader?”
    “Who else could it be?” Cleo shuddered. “Some weirdo is out to harass me, I guess. And he or she was right here in my bedroom tonight. It's creepy.” It was more than that; it was frightening. But Cleo was not about to admit it. Not yet, at any rate.
    “I might be able to help,” Max said quietly.
    Cleo stared at him. “How?”
    “I know a man who runs a firm that specializes in corporate security and investigations. If you like, I can ask him to check out a few things.”
    “Forget it. I don't want to get involved with a private investigator.”
    “Why not?”
    Cleo set her teeth. She'd been burned once by a private investigator who had taken her money and done nothing for her. She didn't intend to get conned again. “It's not worth it. I don't want to blow this up out of all proportion. Whoever it is will get tired of the game after a while and go away.”
    “You think so?”
    “This sort of thing happens to writers sometimes,” Cleo said defensively. “There's not much a person can do.”
    “I'm not so sure about that. Look, I can at least have O'Reilly check out the guests who are staying here this weekend. We can find out if any of them have a reputation for being rabid censors.”
    “I told you, I'm not going to pay a private investigator to look into this.”
    “You won't have to pay him,” Max said softly. “O'Reilly is a friend of mine. He owes me a couple of favors. He'll be glad to do this for me.”
    Cleo hesitated. “You think so?”
    “Yes. There's no harm in running a quick check.” Max looked thoughtful. “It will take some time, though. I doubt if I can get O'Reilly to do it in just two days.”
    Cleo eyed him with instant suspicion. “Is this a pitch designed to convince me not to kick you out on Tuesday?”
    “Yes.” Max shrugged. “I don't have anywhere else to go. Jobs are hard to get these days.”
    She groaned. “I knew it wasn't going to be easy to get rid of you.”

Chapter
4
     
    I recognize him even though I cannot see his face clearly in the mirror. He's a phantom in the glass, confined forever in a silvery world, but I know him instantly when he touches me.
    His fingers are warm, not cold, although he is locked away in that frozen place behind the mirror. He wants me as no one else has ever wanted me. I want him. In some way I cannot explain, I know that he is a part of me. Yet he is as trapped in his prison as I am in mine.
    When he comes to me tonight he will put his hands on my breasts, and I will shudder in response. The heat will rise within me. He will watch my face and see the desire in me. I do not have to hide it from him. He alone will understand the need and the longing and the passion inside me that no one else has ever seen. In his arms I will be free.
    But what about him? Will I ever be able to release him from the mirror?
    Max closed The Mirror and put the book down on the small nightstand beside the bed. He took a slow breath and concentrated on controlling the deep, sexual