Page 10 of A Cornish Winter’s Kiss

He was impossibly good looking, especially for someone who must have spent most of his time hunched over a laptop.

His jawline was razor sharp, despite the fact that his Wikipedia profile – which she’d googled in the ladies’ loo – gave his age as thirty-six.

He had dark brown lashes the same colour as his hair, framing bright blue eyes which were somehow made even more striking by the fact he wore trendy heavy-framed glasses.

He really could have stepped out of the pages of one of Sophia’s books, except for the fact that he was clearly a total arse.

Yet she still couldn’t stop watching him.

He wasn’t working the room, but still people gravitated towards him.

He spoke to everyone who approached him, and part of her wanted to admit that maybe he wasn’t quite so arrogant after all, but she couldn’t do that.

Not after the way he’d spoken to Sophia.

Eventually, Emily had sought out a conversation with Sophia’s proofreader, and they’d chatted easily about what it was like to be on the periphery of such a phenomenal author.

It meant that Emily hadn’t found herself gazing in Jude’s direction for at least ten minutes.

So when she looked up to find him standing right in front of her, she caught her breath.

‘God, you made me jump.’ Emily put her hand over her heart, trying to convince herself that the quickening thud, thud, thud was purely down to surprise at seeing him standing there.

‘Sorry.’ Jude looked genuinely contrite, but there was just a hint of amusement in his eyes, enough to make her keep her guard up. If he found her amusing, she wasn’t going to let him know it bothered her.

‘No problem. When you live in London, you get used to all sorts.’ Emily turned towards Sophia’s proofreader. ‘Della, this is Jude Cavendish, he also writes for?—’

‘Oh, I know exactly who you are.’ Della gave the kind of simpering laugh that made Emily feel embarrassed on her behalf, and which probably fed straight into Jude’s already inflated ego. ‘I haven’t had the chance to proofread for you yet, but I keep hoping it’s going to happen.’

‘Maybe I can make a request.’ When Jude smiled, Della blushed and Emily’s second-hand embarrassment went up another level. ‘Can I get either of you another drink?’

He looked from Emily to Della and back again, and she’d been about to decline his offer when Della’s phone buzzed.

‘Shit, my Uber’s here. I knew I should have made it half an hour later.’ Della looked crestfallen, only perking up a little bit when Jude kissed her on both cheeks as she said her goodbyes.

‘Don’t forget to put in that request!’ Her parting words might have sounded light-hearted, but her tone had been quite insistent.

‘I think you’ve got yourself a fan there.’ Emily hoped her intonation made it clear to Jude that she wasn’t in that particular club and never would be.

‘She seems sweet, and she’s certainly enthusiastic.’ Jude sounded as if he was describing an over-excited and slightly annoying puppy dog, and he wasn’t far wrong. If he had any interest in Della, he was doing a good job of hiding it.

‘She’s lovely and very good at her job.’ Emily tried not to acknowledge the feeling of relief at Della’s departure. There was no reason why she would be pleased to be left on her own with Jude Cavendish, none at all.

‘As are you. Very good.’ He adjusted his glasses as he spoke, and suddenly all Emily could picture was his namesake, Jude Law, in The Holiday , in a scene that had sent millions of pulses racing. But even she knew that movies were nothing like real life.

‘Thank you. I love my job and I count my blessings every day to be doing what I do. I honestly couldn’t think of anything better.’

‘I used to feel that way about writing.’

‘But not any more?’ She couldn’t keep the note of surprise out of her voice.

Partly because he was being so honest, and partly because she couldn’t imagine anyone who’d achieved the dream of becoming a published author wishing they were doing something else.

Not when so many people were still chasing that dream.

‘Just lately no, but I think that’s something you might be able to help me with.’ Jude held her gaze until she was forced to look away. ‘I wondered if you’d be willing to go for a drink with me some time.’

‘No.’ Her response was emphatic. ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea.’

It wasn’t a lie. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would be the worst possible idea, because Jude was clearly bad news.

It was written all over him, and she’d had enough of bad boys and commitment-phobes to last her a lifetime.

In Sophia’s novels, guys like that always changed for the better when they met the right person.

But that was just one more example of real life being nowhere near as good as fiction, and she wasn’t about to put herself through that again.

‘I’ll happily pay you for your time.’ He was still looking at her when her head shot up again. Who the hell did he think he was? He might assume everyone had a price but he was wrong, and a wave of nausea washed over her.

‘I don’t know what sort of person you think I am, but it wouldn’t matter how much you paid me to spend time with you, it wouldn’t be enough!’

He laughed then, actually laughed, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. How dare he! Emily took a step forward, ready to slap him across the cheek, like she was the wronged woman in an old black and white movie, but then he held up his hands.

‘This is strictly a business proposition. What I’m offering is a payment for you to be a consultant on my novel.

My editor suggested I speak to someone who understands what readers want from a romance in a way that I clearly don’t and, having listened to you read, I really think that might be you.

I need to give my lead character a believable love interest, and I need someone who can help me work out whether what I’ve written will translate to my readers. ’

‘So why not just ask a romance writer?’ Part of Emily was flattered that he thought she could be the person for the job, but she was in no way qualified to offer what he was looking for.

‘Because whatever I write, it still needs to have my voice. If I work with another author, it would just muddy the waters and become their voice in the middle of my story. I’ve tried doing it myself, but every time I read through what I’ve put down on the page, it sounds ridiculous to me.

The trouble is, when I read Sophia’s book, that sounded ridiculous too.

’ Emily had been about to protest again, but he shook his head.

‘That changed when I heard you reading the story. Suddenly that same sentiment seemed much more believable, and I think I need to see my character’s relationship through that filter.

I’m too close to him and the story to be objective, and I want to be confident that it’s authentic before I send it to my editor, because I think he’ll just be so relieved I’ve written anything along those lines that he’ll accept more or less whatever I write.

So my plan is to write what I think will work and edit that on the basis of how it feels when you’re reading it.

If you can’t make it sound like a believable romance, I’ll know I’ve failed. ’

‘So you just want me to read what you’ve written out loud to you?’ Emily furrowed her brow, not sure if this sounded like the world’s easiest way to earn some extra money, or if she would be getting herself into a nightmare situation.

‘Not just that. I’m sure you can give me some pointers about how I should approach it.

What makes a good connection between characters in a relationship and the kind of dialogue they might use, that sort of thing.

As a connoisseur of romance.’ Jude paused for a moment.

He was clearly trying not to allow his expression to give him away, but he didn’t quite pull it off.

‘Put it this way. I’m sure you’ve read a lot more romances than I ever will.

So you can tell me what the story feels like from that expert perspective and suggest some ways I could improve it, to make it less wooden and forced than it feels right now. ’

Emily hesitated for a moment, still wondering whether she was about to commit herself to something she was going to regret, but there was another voice inside her head, telling her that if she pulled this off, it could be amazing.

If she could get Jude Cavendish to admit that there was a place for love in all kinds of storytelling, it would be a victory for the authors whose work she loved and who people like Jude looked down upon.

It was too tempting an opportunity to pass up, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

‘How much are you paying?’ Emily was amazed at how matter-of-fact she sounded, and when she looked at him pointedly, he laughed again.

‘Whatever your hourly rate for the audio narration works out to be, I’ll double it.’

‘Treble it and you’ve got yourself a deal.’ She held his gaze again, and he hesitated for just a moment before nodding and reaching out to shake her hand.

‘It’s a deal, but I would have paid you four times what you get for narration.’

‘And I would have accepted the same rate.’ She couldn’t help smiling, but she was surprised when he mirrored her expression.

‘I think I might have met my match.’

‘You better hope so if I’m going to have any useful input into your book.’ Reaching into her bag, she passed him a card. ‘Send me some dates and times and we can set up an initial meeting. I’ll see you then.’

Turning on her heel, she strode away from him, as if she did this sort of thing all the time.

He wasn’t to know just how excited she was that Jude Cavendish wanted her to be a consultant on his next book.

She’d played it cool for all of ten minutes; she just had to hope she could continue to pull that off.

Even more than that, she hoped she could actually be of some use, because it wasn’t just her own reputation she needed to uphold.

She was doing this for everyone who believed that romance novels were just as worthy as any other kind of book, and she couldn’t let them down.