how far would they
go? Just how much longer would they be willing to play their part?
Shaking her
head in wonder at the amount of planning it must have taken to carry out such a
ruse, Leila shed the nightgown for the second time that day, pulling on the
lingerie and pink dress. Her shoes were by the door and she slipped them on,
wincing as she forced the right one over her swollen foot. That part was real,
no façade there, she had blood and bruises to show for her adventure.
A chill swept
over her. She could easily have drowned in the cove. Her hand trembled as she
reached for the door handle. The man who’d obviously followed her was more than
just an actor in some elaborate fantasy now. He really was her hero; he’d saved
her life.
Chapter
Five
Cheryl was
waiting for her in the dining room, and she rose as Leila entered, lightly
kissing her cheeks. Cheryl led Leila onto the terrace and took her seat,
pouring tea into Leila’s cup. Leila added a lump of sugar, stirring the amber
liquid with a silver spoon.
“Did you have a
pleasant walk around the island? Any ideas pop into your head as to how your
characters could meet in your story?” Cheryl sat back, sipping her tea.
Leila took a
swallow of the fragrant sweet tea before answering. She had never been good at
keeping secrets, but she didn’t want to announce that she knew Cheryl’s plans.
“I had a nice walk,
thank you. And yes, something rather interesting did happen.” She set her cup
down, watching Cheryl closely.
“I went for a
swim in the cove, a beautiful place. I…well, I had a bit of an accident,
nothing serious, but it made me think. I was alone, with no one around. What
if, in my story, that happened to my heroine and the hero was there to save
her? It would be organic, of the moment, not an artificial construct or a
forced situation to bring two people together.”
Leila paused
for breath, knowing her face was flushed with telling her little-white-lie
version of events. Cheryl regarded her for a moment over the edge of her
teacup.
“If you think
you can work with that, then go for it. You’ll need to have your characters act
authentically, stay in character. It might work, if you believe in it.”
Leila blew out
a sigh and sank back in her chair. “I’ll rewrite the scene where they meet
then, and leave it for you with whatever comes next.”
Cheryl nodded.
“Very good. And your next assignment will be your character’s first romantic
scene together. Your work before had a certain hesitancy to it, almost as if
you were embarrassed to write the words.”
The flush in
her cheeks intensified. “I’m…I’m a very private person, so…it’s awkward
sometimes…”
“Only you know
who your heroine really is. You’re writing fiction, Leila. And a fictitious
story that’s over the top in sensuality, with a hero who always lets his
heroine take her pleasure first, who’s capable of repeat performances over and
over, who can make love all night and serve breakfast in the morning.
Larger-than-life, but still believable.”
Leila laughed.
“Not a tall order at all, is it?” She finished the last of her tea, waving off Cheryl’s
offer of a refill, and rose.
“I’m going to
my room to write. I’ll have the assignment and my rewritten meeting scene for
you tonight.”
“Fine. I think
I’m going to stay here and enjoy the afternoon.” Cheryl turned as Leila stepped
into the cool shadows of the dining room.
“Remember, your
hero needs to take your reader’s breath away, and yours too. Your love scene
should leave you just as hungry for love as your readers. No room for
embarrassment there.”
“I’ll keep that
in mind.”
“And Leila?
Remember, you’re the heroine in this story. Put yourself into the scene, heart
and soul.”
* * *
Leila sat for a
long time at the small writing desk. The stack of paper had been replenished
and she industriously worked her way through it before sitting back
go? Just how much longer would they be willing to play their part?
Shaking her
head in wonder at the amount of planning it must have taken to carry out such a
ruse, Leila shed the nightgown for the second time that day, pulling on the
lingerie and pink dress. Her shoes were by the door and she slipped them on,
wincing as she forced the right one over her swollen foot. That part was real,
no façade there, she had blood and bruises to show for her adventure.
A chill swept
over her. She could easily have drowned in the cove. Her hand trembled as she
reached for the door handle. The man who’d obviously followed her was more than
just an actor in some elaborate fantasy now. He really was her hero; he’d saved
her life.
Chapter
Five
Cheryl was
waiting for her in the dining room, and she rose as Leila entered, lightly
kissing her cheeks. Cheryl led Leila onto the terrace and took her seat,
pouring tea into Leila’s cup. Leila added a lump of sugar, stirring the amber
liquid with a silver spoon.
“Did you have a
pleasant walk around the island? Any ideas pop into your head as to how your
characters could meet in your story?” Cheryl sat back, sipping her tea.
Leila took a
swallow of the fragrant sweet tea before answering. She had never been good at
keeping secrets, but she didn’t want to announce that she knew Cheryl’s plans.
“I had a nice walk,
thank you. And yes, something rather interesting did happen.” She set her cup
down, watching Cheryl closely.
“I went for a
swim in the cove, a beautiful place. I…well, I had a bit of an accident,
nothing serious, but it made me think. I was alone, with no one around. What
if, in my story, that happened to my heroine and the hero was there to save
her? It would be organic, of the moment, not an artificial construct or a
forced situation to bring two people together.”
Leila paused
for breath, knowing her face was flushed with telling her little-white-lie
version of events. Cheryl regarded her for a moment over the edge of her
teacup.
“If you think
you can work with that, then go for it. You’ll need to have your characters act
authentically, stay in character. It might work, if you believe in it.”
Leila blew out
a sigh and sank back in her chair. “I’ll rewrite the scene where they meet
then, and leave it for you with whatever comes next.”
Cheryl nodded.
“Very good. And your next assignment will be your character’s first romantic
scene together. Your work before had a certain hesitancy to it, almost as if
you were embarrassed to write the words.”
The flush in
her cheeks intensified. “I’m…I’m a very private person, so…it’s awkward
sometimes…”
“Only you know
who your heroine really is. You’re writing fiction, Leila. And a fictitious
story that’s over the top in sensuality, with a hero who always lets his
heroine take her pleasure first, who’s capable of repeat performances over and
over, who can make love all night and serve breakfast in the morning.
Larger-than-life, but still believable.”
Leila laughed.
“Not a tall order at all, is it?” She finished the last of her tea, waving off Cheryl’s
offer of a refill, and rose.
“I’m going to
my room to write. I’ll have the assignment and my rewritten meeting scene for
you tonight.”
“Fine. I think
I’m going to stay here and enjoy the afternoon.” Cheryl turned as Leila stepped
into the cool shadows of the dining room.
“Remember, your
hero needs to take your reader’s breath away, and yours too. Your love scene
should leave you just as hungry for love as your readers. No room for
embarrassment there.”
“I’ll keep that
in mind.”
“And Leila?
Remember, you’re the heroine in this story. Put yourself into the scene, heart
and soul.”
* * *
Leila sat for a
long time at the small writing desk. The stack of paper had been replenished
and she industriously worked her way through it before sitting back
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