Free Illusions of Death by Lauren Linwood

asked. “Mother looks like a kid in a candy store picking out all the forbidden sweets she never had.”
    Logan ventured, “She told me your dad didn’t like to socialize. Out of respect, she became a part of the isolated world he created.”
    He glanced across the room and watched Martha Campbell as she laughed at a comment. “I’d say she’s a butterfly emerging from a long stay in a cocoon—and not one of her own making.”
    “We’ve never been close,” Karlyn confessed. “She told me once they regretted having children. That Broderick would always come first. I was left alone while they lived in their own world. Now she’s inviting guests for dinner? Asking me to stay in Walton Springs?”
    Logan smiled at her news. “So you plan to hang around the Springs?”
    She nodded. “I will while I’m working on a screenplay. I wrote the novel, but screenwriting is a different ball game. I may ask a studio collaborator to come for a few days. We’ve talked on the phone. Chris lives in Atlanta. I think we’d get a lot more work done here than if I went back to New York.”
    She sighed. “Besides, I signed my divorce papers before I left the city. I don’t even have a place to live. I might as well put that off and concentrate on what I do best—work.”
    A pang of jealousy shot through Logan at the mention of some guy named Chris spending time with Karlyn. He couldn’t understand why this feeling flooded him. He hadn’t been in a relationship since his own divorce became finalized four years ago. He’d had a few dates, mostly set-ups, but work was his life.
    Till now. What was so different about Karlyn Campbell?
    “Are you free tonight?”
    Her words slammed him from his meanderings.
    “Uh, yeah.”
    Great. He sounded as articulate as a rock. Karlyn was used to witty repartee from suave Manhattan men. He wouldn’t score many points being monosyllabic.
    “I’d like to pick your brain about a scene I’m having trouble with. Do you like Italian?”
    “Uh, yeah.”
    Brilliant. He was on a roll. The English Lit minor dazzled yet again in a stunning show of dialogue.
    “I’m a pretty good cook. We could talk over dinner. That is, if you’re not busy. Or if it’s okay with your girlfriend.” She nodded to his hand. “Since I don’t see a wedding ring.”
    “I don’t have a girlfriend. Or dinner plans.” He glanced at her mother. “Do you think your mom would mind? So soon after the funeral?”
    Karlyn frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. How about I take you out? I’m sure she’ll be tied up anyway. It’ll be my treat since I have lots of questions.”
    “It’s a deal.” Logan deliberately didn’t say date. He didn’t want to attach significance to the fact he would be eating in public with a person of the opposite sex, which hadn’t occurred in longer than he could remember.
    “Since you know the area, I’ll let you choose the restaurant. Thanks for agreeing to do this, Logan. It’s time I got back to work. It keeps me sane.”
    Which was the last place his mind was right now. Usually, Logan lived for work. All of a sudden, he’d pushed it far away. All he could think about was spending more time with the very sexy author standing next to him.
    “I’ll pick you up at seven.” He drained his coffee and set the cup down. Logan retrieved his trench coat and made his way through the spectators outside. He couldn’t believe he had plans with a special lady.
    Even if she did want to talk murder at dinner.

Chapter 12
    Karlyn slid into the chair and watched Logan sit opposite her. The man looked good—Polo button-down, gray slacks, sports coat—and he smelled even better.
    All male.
    She forced herself not to sprawl across the table and breathe him in.
    She glanced at the oak paneling and hardwood floors. Soft piano music sounded from the next room. “Nice place.”
    “The food has never let me down. And if you have a thing for chocolate, save room for dessert. In fact, I have a