Well, that shut her up. Cesca couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Instead she nodded, moving back to allow Sam to scoop up the papers that were left. Once he had them all, he neatened the pile with a shuffle of his hands, then tucked them under his arm as he offered his other hand to Cesca.
Wordlessly, she took his proffered palm. Let him curl his fingers around her hand. Allowed him to pull until her legs were straightening, and they were both standing, a little too close to each other.
‘Thank you.’ When her words came, they were breathless. A smile curled at the corner of her lips, and he grinned back in reflection, his eyes crinkling as he stared down at her.
He was still holding her hand.
For some reason that sent a shiver down her spine. An electrical pulse that kept bouncing up and down, unwilling to unleash its hold on her nerve endings. A gift that kept on giving.
‘It’s really good, you know.’
She licked her dry lips. Was it only a few hours ago that she was screaming at him? Now she was pretty much lost for words, unable to come up with any of the repartee she used to be so lauded for. ‘It is?’
‘You must know how good it is. You can’t write something like this and not see how it will affect people. It’s amazing.’
It had been a long time since she’d received praise for her writing.
‘It’s only a first draft,’ she said softly. ‘Well, a second if you count the changes I made.’
‘Changes?’ Sam pulled her into the library, his large hand
still enveloping her own. When they reached the large rug in the middle of the room he finally released her, kneeling down to place the pile of papers on the floor. Without being asked, Cesca knelt next to him, her skin still tingling from his touch. Her body was flushed in spite of the huge wicker fan that was circling on the ceiling above them.
‘Your suggestions . . . they were good.’ Her voice was quieter still. ‘I added them in.’
‘But you hated them.’ Sam frowned. ‘You were furious about them.’
Cesca couldn’t meet his gaze. ‘I didn’t read them before I came to find you.’ She was talking as much to the floor as she was to him. ‘I wish I had, I’m so sorry. I never should have said those things.’
She sensed rather than saw Sam’s frown. It was in the way his breathing changed, in the movement of his body when he shifted next to her. More than that, it was in the way the air thickened between them, crackling and spitting like a freshly lit fire.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have read your play. It was like reading somebody’s diary or something. I’m sorry I upset you, it was wrong.’
‘You didn’t mean to upset me.’
Sam shook his head slowly. ‘No I didn’t, but I managed to do it anyway. It’s something I do a lot, and let’s face it, it’s not the first time I’ve behaved like an asshole to you. I’ll try to make it the last, though.’
She pulled her lip between her teeth, sharp edges digging into the skin there. ‘I was an asshole, too. I didn’t even give you a chance to explain, I just screamed like some kind of harpy. People must have heard me for miles around.’
‘You were only saying the truth. Getting it off your chest. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?’
‘No.’ She was certain of that. The churning in her stomach was enough evidence of her mistake. ‘I could have waited to hear you out, and explained why I felt so violated. Instead I just launched at you, without giving you a chance to explain.’
‘Maybe I didn’t deserve a chance.’
She blinked rapidly. ‘Doesn’t everybody deserve to be heard?’
It was Sam’s turn to look down at the floor. He was staring at the pile of papers, his forehead wrinkled. ‘When I read your play last night, it was like hearing you speak. I wanted to know those characters, know what happens to them. They felt real already.’
Her throat felt scratchy, her voice hoarse. ‘I guess they are real to me. I based it on my family.’
‘You did?’ Sam asked. ‘Just like your last play.’
It felt as though her heart was stopping. ‘You remember that?’
‘I can remember hearing about your mother and putting two and two together. Her death was a big thing in the theatre world. And those four sisters – they’re your sisters, right?’
His eyes were shining when he looked at her, reflecting the soft light glowing from the desk lamp.