Page 17 of Daring to Love

I raise my eyes, not believing my own ears.

“What? Really? But that’s absurd.”

“Tell that to my editor.” He grins at me, but there’s no mirth in his eyes. Not even a hint of amusement. Even though he’s virtually a stranger, I don’t like seeing him like this - unhappy and defeated don’t suit this bloke one tiny bit.

I move my head to the side but gasp softly at the twinge blaring through my neck, and my hand shoots up to massage it.

“Are you okay?” Finlay asks, frowning at my movements.

I give him a grim smile.

“I’m just a little sore. Too much tension makes my muscles cramp up. I’ll be fine.”

His lips tighten into a hard line.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s not a big deal.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

The silence hangs in the air, making the atmosphere slightly awkward, but I’m too preoccupied with his proposition to care.

“I need to think about this.”

The grim set to his mouth vanishes entirely, and instead a confident smile takes over. He steeples his fingers under his chin, elbows resting on the table.

I hold up a finger in warning.

“It doesn’t mean I’ll agree, Finlay. I’ll need some more details from you first.”

“Of course. I’m not the paparazzi, Amelie. I don’t write dirt on people for the sake of it. I always seek the truth – please believe that.”

There he goes again with the charm and transparency. It makes my head spin.

“I’ll need more than your word.” I try to muster up my inner strength, hoping he won’t balk at this.

“I’m not sure I follow you.”

I take a deep breath.

“I need you to send me your finished piece before it’s printed. If I read anything that I deem too private for the public eye, you’ll have to remove it.”

He sits back, and a thoughtful look enters his eyes, but as hard as it is to hold it, I won’t back down.

“That’s unusual, but not unheard of.”

I nod, breathing a small smile in relief. satisfied that he’s not trying to dissuade me.

“That’s my only term. If you can accept that, we have a deal.”

“Hmm, okay.” He turns in his chair and rests his chin on his hand, his elbow resting on the soft leather armrest, as he mulls over everything I’ve just said. “How about this? I’ll have the newspaper’s legal department draw up a contract for you, have it sent over to your flat in a day or two.”

The air I didn’t even realise I’ve been holding inside flutters between my lips, and grateful, I nod.

“Sounds perfect.”

He grins back at me.