Free Price of Passion by Susan Napier

brushed aside her argument, too intrigued by his paranoid fantasy. ‘You don’t even have a phone connection in the house, let alone wireless coverage, and the cellular signal is erratic at best. Your mind is far too tidy to leave things like that to chance…no, there’s got to be something—’
    ‘For goodness’ sake, this isn’t the middle of the Gobi Desert, Drake,’ she cut in with exasperation, not sure whether he was serious, or simply winding her up. With Drake’s sardonic sense of humour it was sometimes difficult to tell. ‘I could just stroll next door and ask to use your internet connection. And don’t tell me you don’t have one, because you email your manuscripts and revisions.’
    He folded his arms over his chest, his smooth jaw set at a stubborn angle as he moodily toyed with the suggestion. ‘So you could. Maybe that’s the whole idea—access to my computer. I told Marcus there was a good reason the first few chapters are late. He knows I’ll deliver the goods. Is he throwing the panic switch already just because I’m not answering his emails? Did he put the squeeze on you to do him a personal favour?’ He snorted. ‘Threaten your job if you didn’t use your leverage with me to find out what’s going on with the new synopsis, and why I haven’t sent the partial? Because if he did any of that, you can tell him that he’s violated our confidentiality agreement and he can kiss goodbye to any more books from me.’
    ‘What a shame, and you two have been such loyal friends through all these years, and had such a wonderfully successful run together—you’ve stuck with Enright Media, even though you must have been wooed by every big publisher in the business,’ said Kate, her voice dripping with false compassion at his outrageous threat. ‘It seems you just can’t trust anyone these days, can you?’ Then she clapped her hand to her cheek. ‘Oh, that’s right, I forgot—you never do trust anyone, anyway. How nice it must be to have proof that your lack of faith in your friends has been justified.’
    He cooled off instantly. ‘I haven’t proved anything,’ he growled defensively.
    She gave him an oozing smile, destined to trigger every warning instinct in his wary nature. ‘Just out of interest, why haven’t you sent him the partial?’
    He momentarily froze, and then let out a shuddering breath, running his hand over his head, raking his hair into disturbed peaks. ‘Hell, Katherine, rub it in, why don’t you?’
    ‘Thank you, I will.’ She relished the chance to take her revenge. ‘If you really believed that farrago of nonsense it’s a short step to thinking that Marcus might have introduced me to you at that party two years ago as part of his long-term strategy of betrayal. I could be a mole.’
    ‘I don’t think moles go in for sunbathing, and certainly not in purple bikinis,’ he murmured, showing that he was not as impervious as she had supposed. ‘They’re very solitary, dark-loving creatures, with powerful appetites…’
    ‘That sounds familiar. Maybe you’re the mole,’ she suggested.
    ‘With what mission—to betray myself?’
    ‘Well, it would cut out the middle man.’
    A flicker of amusement in his eyes indicated a mocking self-awareness—but as usual when their conversation threatened to breach his invisible walls he deflected her attention away from himself. ‘At least we’ve narrowed down the list of possible motives for you being here. The process of elimination will eventually bring us down to the truth.’
    ‘“You can’t handle the truth!” The angry quote from A Few Good Men floated into her mind and tripped off her tongue before she could stop it.
    ‘Not been around long enough to qualify as a classic yet, Kate, but it was Jack Nicholson playing Colonel Jessep. And he was wrong, wasn’t he? Because people are constantly having to adjust to newly revealed truths…it’s called living …’
    ‘Some people are too busy crying wolf