“This is me?” he asked, his skin flushing.

“It is. Every last long, lean inch of you. I wrote it right after you left this morning. I was, needless to say, inspired by your visit.”

Swallowing hard, Zach unfolded the sheet again. Brutus-cut black hair…ice-colored eyes…jeans, black shirt… It was him.

“Excuse me,” Zach began, trying to regain control of this conversation, “but didn’t I repeatedly insult you this morning?”

“Your kvetching was very fetching. I like men who are mean to me. I trust them more.”

She tilted her head to the side and her unruly black hair fell over her forehead, veiling her green-black eyes.

“Forgive me. I might be speechless right now.”

“Your orders,” she said. “You told me to stop writing what I knew and start writing what I wanted to know. I want to know…you.”

She took a step closer and Zach’s heart dropped a few feet and landed somewhere in the vicinity of his groin.

“Who are you, Ms. Sutherlin?” he asked, not quite knowing what he meant by that question.

“I’m just a writer. A writer named Nora. And you can call me that, Zach.”

“Nora then. I’m sorry. I’m not used to being hit on by my writers. Especially after verbally abusing them.”

Nora’s eyes flashed with amusement.

“Verbal abuse? Zach, where I come from ‘slut’ is a term of endearment. Want to see where I come from?”

“No.”

“Pity,” she said, sounding not at all surprised or disappointed. “Where should we go then? I promised to save you from this party, didn’t I?”

“I really shouldn’t leave,” Zach said, terrified what would happen the second he found himself alone with Nora.

“Come on, Zach. This party sucks and not in the good way. I’ve had pap smears more fun than this.”

Zach covered a laugh with a cough.

“I must admit you do have a way with words.”

“So you’ll edit me then? Please?” She batted her eyelashes at him in mock innocence. “You won’t regret it.”

Zach glanced up at the ceiling as if it could give him some hint of what the hell he was getting himself into. Nora Sutherlin…he had only six weeks left in New York until he left for L.A. Why was he even considering getting involved with Nora Sutherlin and her book? He knew why. He had nothing else in his life right now. He liked Mary and enjoyed working for J.P. But he’d made no friends in New York, no connections of any kind. He hadn’t allowed himself to even consider dating. One day he’d taken off his wedding ring in a fit of anger and couldn’t find a reason to put it back on. He wouldn’t consider inflicting himself on any woman right now. At least working with Nora Sutherlin might give him a much-needed distraction from his misery. She seemed like the type of woman who’d help you forget about your headache by setting your bed on fire.

Won’t regret it? He already did.