it was, was not going to print anything injurious or wounding to him. How had Adrian come to meet the famous actress in the first place, and why had their affair ended? Had Petra found him as cold as he appeared? Had she ever managed to get past some of those impenetrable layers that Adrian so obviously protected himself with?
The thought made Liadan stop what she was doing and stare unseeingly ahead. How had she known that? Adrian Jacobs had been deeply wounded—maybe beyond repair—and now strove to do everything in his power to prevent himself from ever being so badly hurt again. One only had to read his books to know that he was a man who had delved deeply into the realms of his own shadow. You’d have to have spent a lot of time exploring the darker side of the human psyche to come up with some of the twisted and terrifying plots that Adrian came up with in his work. And Liadan’s summing-up of what she’d read had been right. There were no redeeming solutions for the human condition in his stories. Not even the merest flicker of light.
‘Liadan? Where are you?’
Hearing him call her name, Liadan put her hands up to quell the sudden rush of heat in her cheeks, took a moment to compose herself, then ran up the back stairs into the open hallway to find him waiting for her.
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