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Between the sheets / Colette Caddle.

By: Material type: TextTextPublication details: London : Pocket, 2009.Description: viii, 482 pages ; 20 cmContent type:
  • text
Media type:
  • unmediated
Carrier type:
  • volume
ISBN:
  • 9781847393326 (pbk.)
  • 1847393322 (pbk.)
Subject(s): Genre/Form: Subject: After Gus walks out on her, Dana is forced to face up to the past. Can she find the real Dana, recover her career, and try to make Gus love her for the person she really is?
Holdings
Item type Current library Collection Call number Copy number Status Date due Barcode Item holds
Large Print Davis (Central) Library Large Print Large Print CAD 2 Checked out 16/04/2024 T00499852
Total holds: 0

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

Dana De Lacey, bestselling romance novelist, has the world at her feet. The words on the page flow easily; an exciting new book deal beckons, and life at home in Dublin is good.

But Dana's self-confidence and success depend on one person: her gorgeous husband, Gus. Without him, she has no fall-back. No children, no close family of her own to call upon. When Gus leaves her, she is devastated. The words fail to come. The alcohol flows too freely. She cannot sleep.

Then her estranged brother, Ed, arrives to take care of her out of the blue, and memories which she has buried for many years begin to surface: startling recollections of a childhood and a little girl long-forgotten, which inspire Dana at last to write from the heart.

Which Dana was it that Gus walked out on -- the glamorous party girl, whose romantic novels always have a happy ending? Or someone with a different name, whose life tells a very different story? Forced to face up to the past, can she find the real Dana, recover her career, and try to make Gus love her for the person she really is?

After Gus walks out on her, Dana is forced to face up to the past. Can she find the real Dana, recover her career, and try to make Gus love her for the person she really is?

11

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

Chapter One Victor Gaston watched as Bobbi released the clip on her hair, allowing it to tumble in Titian curls around her shoulders. 'I must say I'm not used to this. My pilots are usually quite gruff and very hairy.' She laughed as he reached up to pull off her tie and slowly open the buttons of her starched white shirt. 'At Prestige Airlines we aim to please. Do you know that you can even specify which pilot you want?' 'I definitely want you,' he groaned, pulling her down on to his lap. 'We don't have long,' she warned. 'I'm flying to Vienna in an hour.' 'Then, Captain, prepare yourself for take-off,' he said, his mouth coming down hard on hers... Dana, couldn't you at least pretend that you're interested?' Gus hissed in his wife's ear. Dana De Lacey snapped back to the present and realized that the speaker had finally come to the end of his long, tiresome story. She quickly joined in the round of polite applause and flashed her husband an apologetic smile. 'Sorry, but he was particularly boring,' she whispered back. When Gus replied he too was smiling, but there was a steely note in his voice. 'The Society of Architects' Dinner is only once a year and it will all be over in an hour. I don't think that's too taxing even for you.' 'I said I'm sorry.' Dana suppressed a sigh and smiled ingratiatingly at the elderly man opposite. God, Gus was grumpy tonight. In fact he'd been a right grouch for weeks and had gone completely mad when she'd tried to wriggle out of tonight's dinner. They had been sitting in the kitchen of their large farmhouse in west Cork at the time and she had been nursing a bad hangover. She'd only got out of bed at noon and then it was just to crawl downstairs and curl up on the sofa. After some persuasion, Gus had made her a cup of camomile tea and she'd sipped it gingerly as he sat working on his laptop at the old, oak kitchen table. 'How come you're not sick?' she'd complained, taking in his bright eyes and healthy colour. 'You had just as much to drink as I did.' They had been out to dinner with a local builder who was also a good friend and it had turned into a long night. 'A pint of water before bed and a three-mile jog this morning,' he'd replied with a smug grin. She'd shuddered. 'Masochist.' He'd laughed. 'We should go for a long walk along the beach; that would make you feel better.' She'd shaken her head as she checked her watch. 'I need to go and pack. I want to get the four o'clock train back to Dublin.' His fingers had paused over the keyboard and he'd stared at her. 'Oh, come on, Dana, stay a few more days. The weather forecast is excellent and we could do with a bit of downtime, just the two of us.' 'Sorry, but I have too much to do.' 'You can write here,' he'd protested. 'You know I can't.' He'd looked past her at the sun glinting on the blue waters of Bantry Bay. 'I can see that it might be hard to find inspiration.' 'Ha ha. It's because I don't have my stuff around me, you know that.' 'I know that,' he'd agreed. 'I'm sorry for being so anal.' She'd smiled apologetically. 'Please don't let's fight, I'm really not up to it.' 'I'm not going to,' he'd promised, sounding resigned. 'I won't be back in Dublin for a few days. I have some business to attend to down here.' 'So much for downtime!' Dana had retorted, and as she'd stretched and risen to her feet she'd missed the look of annoyance that crossed her husband's face. 'Shall I book a taxi to take me to the station or will you drive me?' 'Of course I'll drive you.' 'Thank you.' She'd put a hand on his shoulder as she passed. He'd reached up to cover it with his own. 'I wish you'd stay.' She had bent to drop a kiss on his head and he'd pulled her close. 'Next time,' she'd promised. 'Don't stay down here too long; that bed feels very empty without you.' 'I'll be back at the weekend and don't forget we're going out on Sunday night.' She'd frowned. 'We are?' 'It's the Architects' Dinner, Dana.' He'd shaken his head impatiently. 'I told you and Sylvie about it weeks ago. It's in your diary.' 'Do I have to go?' she'd moaned. 'Tom and Ashling will be there; you don't need me as well.' 'Ashling is having a lot of back pain at the moment so they're bowing out this year.' His eyes had hardened. 'Don't let me down, Dana; it's only once a year.' 'All right, all right, I'll go.' The atmosphere had been tense as they drove to the station and Gus had hardly responded when she'd kissed and hugged him goodbye. Things hadn't been much better since he'd got back. She hadn't a clue what was wrong. He was usually such a good-humoured man. And now here she was at the dreaded dinner, and it was every bit as boring as she'd anticipated. How, she wondered, did a man as charismatic and dynamic as her husband have anything in common with these people? She looked around and tried to imagine any of the grey, two-dimensional characters in this room being as creative and innovative as Gus, and couldn't. It was no wonder he and Tom won award after award; they were without doubt in a league of their own. She turned her head slightly so she could study Gus, and smiled at the attentive way he was listening to the president's speech. God, he did look sexy tonight. The dark-blue velvet dinner jacket complemented his eyes, and wearing it with the open-necked white shirt and jeans he looked both cool and sophisticated. It was this effortless and unconscious style, confidence and lazy grin that had attracted her from the moment they met. She could still recall the electricity between them that first day. She had just bought the farmhouse in Cork, except then it had been a damp and dark stone building with nothing going for it but its amazing view. Her agent, Walter Grimes, had thought she was completely mad but said if she insisted on proceeding with the venture, she should at least hire a good architect. And so, after talking to his numerous contacts in the UK and Ireland, he'd introduced her to Gus Johnson of the esteemed Johnson and Cleary Architects in Dublin. Dana smiled now at the memory of how she'd felt when Gus had first taken her in his. His grasp had been cool and firm and when he had smiled into her eyes, her heart had skipped a beat. From that moment, Dana didn't really care what kind of an architect he was, he had the job. Within weeks they were an item, he moved in two months later and they'd married the following year. They had made a striking if incongruous couple. While Gus was tall, with red-blond wavy hair, blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across his nose, Dana was tiny, sallow-skinned and had huge, black-brown eyes. 'Little and large,' he'd joke when she'd go up on her tiptoes to kiss him. 'Beauty and the beast,' she'd retort. The speeches were over now and people were starting to circulate. The blonde across the table was laughing too loudly at something Gus had said and Dana found herself automatically putting a possessive hand on his arm. She leaned close to him, her lips almost touching his ear. 'Can we go now? I'm tired and I just want to have you all to myself.' Gus sighed. 'Fine, we'll go.' He helped her to her feet and Dana smiled around the table, her eyes finally connecting with the blonde's. 'Goodnight, then, lovely to meet you all.' As they crossed the foyer, her mood already lightening, she said, 'Let's go to a club.' 'I thought you were tired.' 'I've got a second wind.' She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously. He didn't return her smile. 'I have an early start.' Dana's shoulders slumped as she followed him back to the car. 'You're just no fun lately, you know that?' As they drove home in silence, Dana's thoughts once again turned to The Mile High Club, her nineteenth novel. The main character, Bobbi Blackwell, was now in the cockpit, expertly flying the private plane to Vienna, her skin still tingling from the touch of her new lover. Victor Gaston was turning out to be a good character, Dana thought. He was sexy and funny and she was quite pleased with the way he and Bobbi worked together on the page. All in all, the novel was going quite well, which was a relief as her publishers were talking about using it to launch their Passion imprint in the UK and Ireland. Dana was excited at the thought of finally being in print in her own country but at the same time she wondered if Ireland was ready for her brand of spicy literature and the exploits of Bobbi Blackwell both on and off the ground. Her agent assured her it was. 'Your books may be a little raunchy but they still have class and humour. You are the perfect way for Peyton Publishing to introduce their Passion imprint to Europe. You're their number-one author in that genre, you're local and you're beautiful too.' Though Dana was grateful for Wally's encouraging words she wasn't sure she believed them. Her work might go down okay in the UK but she wasn't at all sure how it would be received in Ireland. She was the daughter of a famous, acclaimed Irish poet and the first thing the press would do was compare father and daughter, and she would be found lacking. When she had started writing she had taken her mother's maiden name, De Lacey, in the hope that people wouldn't make the link between her and the lauded Conall O'Carroll. But Ireland was a small place and you couldn't keep a secret like that for long. It irked her that no matter how much she tried to escape the man, he still seemed to encroach on her life. She didn't often get mentioned in the papers, but, when she did, her name was always linked with his. Would The Mile High Club change that or would she spend all her days in his shadow? Only time would tell. 'Dana?' Realizing that Gus had pulled into their driveway and turned off the engine, Dana stretched like a cat, climbed out of the car and slowly followed him inside. 'Bed?' she asked, pausing at the bottom of their sweeping staircase and smiling suggestively. Working on sex scenes always got her in the mood and she'd based more than a few of them on her own love life with Gus. He flung his keys and phone on the hall table and turned towards the kitchen. 'I need a drink.' 'I'll have a spritzer,' she called after him and went on up to the large master suite. Going through to her dressing room, she undressed, took off her make-up and then slipped into a simple sheath of chocolate-coloured silk. 'Not bad for thirty-seven,' she murmured, appraising her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. She was arranging herself in a suitably alluring pose on their king-size bed when Gus walked into the room. 'Come and sit down,' she patted the bed invitingly. Gus handed her the wine and sat down on the edge of the bed with his back to her. She put her glass on the bedside table and, moving closer, slid her arms around his waist. Her fingers deftly opened the buttons of his shirt and she slipped a hand inside to caress the smooth skin of his chest. 'I've been thinking about doing this all night,' she told him. Gus pushed her hand away. 'Don't.' Slightly taken aback, Dana sat back against the pillows and reached for her drink. 'What's going on, Gus? You've been like a bear with a sore head for days, no, weeks. Is it work?' He shook his head and, standing up, crossed over to the window. 'Then what? Oh, come on, Gus, talk to me.' He chuckled softly. 'Funny, I thought that was my line.' 'What do you mean? What are you talking about?' 'I can't do this any more,' he said, not moving. She stared at his back, at the slump of his shoulders, and heard the resignation in his voice. 'Do what?' 'This.' He made a gesture at her and then himself. 'Us. I've tried but I just can't do it.' Dana set her glass down carefully. 'Is this some sort of joke?' 'I wish it was.' 'Is there someone else?' she asked, her voice even but her stomach twisting into a painful knot. 'No, of course not,' he said crossly. 'So what is all of this about? Are you having a midlife crisis, is that it?' She forced a laugh. 'Shall I buy you a Harley or a red sports car or maybe we could dye your hair -- ' 'Dana -- ' 'Look,' she hurried on, thinking that as long as she kept talking she could sort this. 'I know I'm not the easiest woman to live with and that maybe sometimes you fancy other women, but that's okay.' 'I don't!' He shot her a curious look. 'But wouldn't it bother you if I did?' She shrugged. 'You're a red-blooded, handsome man and I realize that you must have urges...' 'You make me sound like a character from one of your books,' he groaned. She smiled affectionately. 'No, you're much sexier.' He shot her a despairing look and turned back to the window. 'I think I should move out,' he said quietly. 'What?' she exploded. He drained his glass and turned back to face her. 'It's for the best.' She stared at him, waiting for him to burst out laughing and tell her this was all a prank, albeit a slightly sick one, but his expression remained grim. 'You say you are going to leave me and that it's for the best and you're not even going to tell me why?' He seemed to consider the question carefully before answering. 'When I met you I was completely knocked for six. You were so beautiful and funny and I couldn't believe my luck when you agreed to marry me.' 'We were meant to be together,' she agreed tearfully. He carried on as if she hadn't spoken. 'I loved you so much and I thought that as the years passed we would grow closer and our relationship would get stronger and deeper.' He looked straight into her eyes. 'And it has,' she said urgently. 'I adore you, you're everything to me. You're my best friend.' 'Really?' She nodded fervently. He smiled, his eyes holding hers. 'Would you trust me with your deepest, darkest secrets?' She smiled back nervously. 'Of course.' He nodded silently as if considering her response. Dana hugged her arms tightly around her. 'So, what now?' 'Now I'd better go,' he said quietly and walked over to the door. 'And that's it!' She flung up her arms in frustration. 'And may I ask, are you going for good, or just planning to take a sabbatical from our marriage?' Her voice was rising but she didn't care now. 'Or are you deserting Tom and your company too? Possibly to go walkabout in the Bush or were you thinking of trekking through the Himalayas?' He didn't move from his position by the door. 'This is hardly the time for sarcasm.' 'No,' she said, feeling deflated and hopeless. 'I suppose it isn't.' 'I don't know where I'm going,' he admitted. 'I hadn't planned any of this; it just sort of happened.' Dana went to him and cupped his face in her hands. 'Then let's pretend it didn't. Don't go, Gus,' she whispered. 'You love me, I know you do.' For a moment she saw doubt in his eyes, but then it was gone. 'I'm sorry, Dana,' he said with finality and took her hands away. 'I'll find somewhere to stay and then I'll come back for my stuff.' She stiffened. 'No! If you're going,' she said, her voice shrill, 'you can take it all right now.' 'Dana, be reasonable -- ' 'Reasonable?' she cried. 'You want me to be reasonable? Okay, then, let me help you pack.' She ran to his dressing room and started taking armfuls of clothes from the rail. 'Where would you like these, in a case? Or should I just chuck them out of the window and save you lugging them downstairs?' He gripped one of her wrists. 'Dana, stop.' She swallowed back her tears and looked up into his eyes, searching for some sign of hope, but his expression was closed and unyielding. She shoved the clothes into his arms. 'I mean it, Gus, take your things now or I swear I'll burn them.' And turning on her heel, she flew out of the room and down the stairs to her office. She waited for him to come after her, to bang on the door to tell her it was all a terrible misunderstanding, but all she heard was his steady tread on the floorboards above as he packed his bags. Sinking into her chair, she drew her knees up under her chin and started to tremble. There was light in the sky when Dana awoke, a dreadful crick in her neck and pins and needles in her toes. Apart from the energetic dawn chorus outside there was an eerie stillness about the house and she let out an involuntary gasp as memories of the previous night came flooding back. Rising from her crouched position she made her way slowly into the hall and climbed the stairs, pausing for a second before throwing open the bedroom door. She crossed the room to Gus's wardrobe but she could see, without even going in, that he'd taken everything except clothes destined for the charity bag. 'Oh, Gus, why?' she whispered as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Stumbling back into the room Dana crawled on to the bed and buried her face in his pillow. Hours later it was the sound of the hall door closing that woke her. Immediately she was up and running for the door. 'I knew you'd be back,' she called gaily. 'I knew it was all a mistake -- ' She pulled up short at the sight of Iris McCarthy looking up at her from the hall, a bewildered look on the woman's face. 'But, Mrs Johnson, I always come on Monday mornings at ten.' Dana felt the tears well in her eyes. 'Yes, sorry, of course you do,' she managed. 'I'm sorry, Iris. It's just I don't feel very well. I think I'll stay in bed today.' 'Of course, Mrs Johnson. Shall I answer the phone if it rings?' 'No! No, that's okay.' 'Very well, then. Can I get you anything?' Dana shook her head. 'No.' Iris nodded. 'Then I'll get on with the laundry.' Dana went back into her bedroom and closed the door. Sinking down on to the bed she reached for the phone and with shaking hands called Gus on his mobile but it went straight to the answering service. After a moment's hesitation Dana dialled his office number instead. 'Good morning, Johnson and Cleary, can I help you?' 'Ann, it's Dana. Could you put me through to Gus, please?' 'Oh, hello. I'm afraid he's not here this morning. Why don't you try him on his mobile?' Dana swallowed hard. 'Yes, I'll do that, thank you.' When the phone rang thirty minutes later, Dana pounced on it. 'Gus?' 'Sorry to disappoint you.' It was the unmistakable drawl of her agent, calling from London. 'It's disgusting, after all these years, that you still get excited when your husband phones,' he teased. Dana swallowed hard. 'Hi, Walter.' 'So, how goes it, darling?' 'Yes, wonderful,' Dana replied, hoping he couldn't hear the tremor in her voice. 'I thought you'd still be asleep after your exciting evening.' 'What do you mean?' she demanded, wondering how he could possibly know. 'It was the Architects' Dinner last night, wasn't it?' 'Oh, yes. Yes, that's right.' 'So how did it go?' 'Oh, you know, the usual.' Dana forced a small laugh. 'Listen, Wally, I'm in the middle of a difficult passage -- ' 'Then you get right back to work,' he told her. 'I just wanted to tell you to expect a call from Ian Wilson.' 'Who?' 'My PR guy in Dublin. I told you about him, remember?' 'Yes, of course.' 'He's going to get to work on your publicity and wants to have a chat with you first.' 'That's a little premature, surely? I mean, Gretta hasn't even said they're definitely going ahead yet.' 'It's only a matter of time,' Walter said confidently, 'and I want your name on everyone's lips. If that doesn't convince Gretta that you're the obvious author to launch their new venture, nothing will. Now you get back to that keyboard, my darling, and I'll talk to you later in the week.' Dana hung up and was trying to decide whether or not to leave a message on Gus's answering service when the phone rang again. 'Hello?' 'Hello, Mrs Johnson, I'm phoning from your telephone company. I wonder if you have a few minutes -- ' 'I don't,' Dana snapped and hung up. For the rest of the morning she paced her room or just sat staring out into the garden. It was after three when the phone rang again. She snatched it up and clutched it to her ear. 'Hello?' 'Hi, honey, how you doin'?' She groaned inwardly at the sound of her editor's voice. 'Oh, hi, Gretta.' 'Hey, girl, you don't sound so good,' the New York editor said sharply. 'Everything okay?' 'Everything's fine,' Dana soothed. 'It's just that I'm at a rather crucial point in the story -- ' 'Then I won't interrupt you. It's just been a few days and I wanted to check in.' It had only been Friday when they last talked, Dana thought irritably. Sometimes Gretta was just too pushy. 'How is The Mile High Club these days?' Gretta said with a throaty chuckle. 'Well, I can't say from experience -- ' 'I don't believe that for a moment, not with that gorgeous man of yours.' 'Yes, well, appearances can be deceiving,' Dana said miserably. 'Are you sure you're okay?' 'Yeah, really, Gretta, everything's fine and the book's going great. I'm just a bit preoccupied.' 'I love the way you get so involved in your books,' the editor said happily. 'If you need a sounding board, just call, okay?' 'I will, thanks.' As Dana put the phone down there was a gentle knock on the door, and Iris came in. 'I thought you might like a little snack,' she said, setting a small tray down on the table by the window. Dana looked without interest at the sandwich but took a grateful sip of the strong, hot coffee. Iris studied her, a worried frown creasing her brow. 'You're very pale. Maybe we should get the doctor out to have a look at you.' 'There's no need, Iris, I'll be fine after I've had some rest.' 'Then at least let me answer the phone for you,' Iris insisted. Dana sighed. 'Yes, okay, then, thank you, Iris. But if Mr Johnson calls, put him straight through.' Iris smiled. 'Of course. I'm sure he must be worried about you.' Dana blinked back her tears. 'I doubt that.' 'Don't be silly, the man is mad about you. Now when you've finished your coffee, try to get some rest; I always think it's the best medicine.' 'Thanks, Iris.' Dana said, feeling even more tearful at the woman's kindness. 'You're welcome.' The housekeeper left, closing the door quietly behind her. It was nearly six o'clock when Dana woke again and Iris was long gone. The tray had disappeared and in its place was a note of her phone messages. At the bottom Iris had written: Mr Johnson didn't call. And, Dana realized with certainty, he wasn't going to. (c) Colette Caddle 2008 Excerpted from Between the Sheets by Colette Caddle All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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