She raised a brow as they followed the crowd toward the foyer beyond. “Do lines like that really work on the women in your life?”
“They have before,” he said with hope.
“I’m sure they have,” she said drily. “It must be hard for women to resist a charmer like you.”
“Some women find it easier than others.”
She released his hand and stepped toward a pretty blonde who looked focused and in charge. Without missing a beat, the young woman directed two attendees to the checkout tables, then assisted an older woman into her coat while listening to Olivia. A moment later the two broke off as the young woman’s gaze moved to Max. Her eyes narrowed a moment before she turned away.
Olivia returned to his side. “The event planner said she’d handle all the hotel details. And she’ll have my assistant take care of the decorations we brought into the hotel. All that remains is the money. Since you’re a mathematician, want to sit with me and sort the checks, cash, and charge slips?”
It would be the weirdest date he’d ever had with a woman, but why not? “I’m all yours,” he said, echoing her words from before.
“This way then.” She turned away, but not before he saw a bright-pink tinge creep into her cheeks.
It had been a while since he’d made a woman blush. Despite his horrible pickup lines, something between the two of them seemed to be connecting. Max followed her into a room behind the registration tables. When she turned toward him once more, her color had returned to normal.
She handed him a calculator and a stack of checks. “Can you handle these?”
“The calculator certainly makes things easier,” he said, taking a seat at the table.
She sat beside him and started counting cash. Each time she tried to count out the bills, she paused, her gaze shifting his way as he quickly totaled the sums. On her third attempt, she set the money down. “You’re fast.”
“Thanks for noticing, darlin’.” He hoped his twangy tone told her he was joking with her.
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Here—you count these, too.” She shoved the pile of bills at him. “You look trustworthy enough. Besides, you’re obviously better at math.”
“I’m good at lots of things.”
She ignored him, grabbing a pen and a deposit slip. “I’ll just write down the amounts so we can get on with things.”
There was the furious color again. He raised his brow. “Such as . . . ?”
“Are you always this impossible?” She held his gaze. “I’m looking forward to that drink with you.”
That made two of them.
It took another half an hour for the deposit to be checked and double-checked. Max had to commend her for her thoroughness. Olivia delivered it to her assistant to deposit before returning to him.
“Do you have any idea how much you made for the Tomorrow Foundation?” he asked as he handed her the calculator.
She shook her head. “Donations will keep coming in as people round up their credit card charges, and then there’s the matching funds. I’ll know soon, but just from what we added up, things look promising.”
Things looked promising from his point of view as well. In all the hustle and bustle of cleaning things up, she’d forgotten about the rip in her dress. She stood in such a way that he had a clear view of a shapely calf and ankle. Some men were attracted to a woman’s face, her breasts, or even her derriere. For Max, it had always been her feet. You could tell a lot about a woman from her feet. He drank in the sight. He was close enough that he could imagine the heat wafting from her body, could almost feel the echo of his touch against her exposed leg. He groaned inwardly, trying to suppress the image.
He’d started the evening wanting to know more about her mostly as data, but in this moment he wanted so much more.
“Shall we head downstairs to the bar there?” Olivia asked, interrupting his wayward thoughts. “Or did you have some place else in mind?”
“Not the bar.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. He didn’t know Olivia at all. He could tell from the way she’d reacted to the rip in her dress that she wasn’t the kind of woman who flirted with men for sport. Her eyes went wide, but not with shock. “Then where?”
“Somewhere we can be alone.” Now that he was committed to this course of action, Max couldn’t keep a grin from his lips.
She laughed. “You really have to work on your pickup lines if you want to succeed with women.”
He took her hand and pulled her to him. “I’m out of practice. Let me see if I can convince you another way.” His grip on her stayed loose, allowing her to break away if she chose. The look in her eyes said she knew he wanted to kiss her. Slowly, his lips descended on hers. He kept the kiss gentle at first, the softest caress, until something sparked inside him. Unable to hold himself back, Max pulled her against his chest and kissed her, allowing the attraction that had been building between them all through the night to take over.
This wasn’t his usual style. He forced back a flutter of nervousness. He usually moved much slower, allowing the woman to set the pace. But with Olivia, he couldn’t seem to hold back. He’d started the evening off with one agenda, now he was distracted by another.
Something about the woman in his arms made him bold. The shiver of her flesh as he traced the curve of her enticing shoulder with his fingers revealed that this wasn’t her usual style either.
Hesitant at first, then with more conviction, Olivia’s lips moved against his. Her hands explored his back. She released a soft groan of capitulation and fit herself against him, curving her softness along his strength, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He broke their kiss and, without releasing her, pressed his forehead to hers, trying to slow his breathing. “Olivia,” her name escaped from his lips, sounding less like a word and more like a plea. “Will you go upstairs with me?”
“Is that wise?” she asked, her voice low.
“Probably not, but I think it’s what we both want.” He reached up and plucked the tortoiseshell anchor pin from her hair. Her curls released, spilling over her bare shoulders. Her pupils flared as he brushed his hand down the satiny sweep of her hair before stepping back and taking her hand once more.
She nodded as he took her hand. His eyes locked on hers. He kissed her fingertips, then turned her hand over and pressed his lips to her palm. He lingered long enough for her to feel his quickening passion, then lifted his head. “Follow me.”
Without releasing her hand, he navigated the way toward the elevator. In silence they rode up along with three other people. As the door opened at the fourteenth floor, he led her out, down the hallway, and to his room. A quick touch of his cardkey to the door and they were inside.
He didn’t stop to turn on the lights. They needed nothing to guide them as moonlight streamed through the room, limning everything it touched with a silver-blue light.
His thumbs moved over her fingers, stroking, teasing, until he released her hand and circled her waist. “We won’t regret this.”
He wasn’t sure if his words were a promise or a warning as, for one long moment, he searched her eyes, then bent his head and kissed her.
CHAPTER THREE
Olivia knew what she was about to do was not only crazy but dangerous to her heart. Was trying to rid herself of Damien’s memory worth the risk she took now?
She usually made decisions based on logic and careful consideration. Yet she’d asked the universe for one perfect night with a stranger, and she was about to get that very thing.
As though sensing her hesitation, Max held himself back. He waited for her to grow accustomed to the feel of him and the overwhelming sensations rising between them, encouraging her to take what she wanted and let go of everything else.
So far she knew he was gentle, helpful, handsome, and smart. The only strike against him was terrible pickup lines. And those she could forgive if he was as nervous about their being together as she was. At the thought, she be
gan to let go of the quiet whispering of her mind and surrendered.
The moment she did, Max pulled back, staring into her eyes, confirming her decision. Then slowly he gathered the length of her dress in his hands until he could slide the garment over her head.
She took the opportunity to pull his tuxedo jacket off his arms until it fell to the floor, where it was joined shortly by his bow tie and crisp white shirt.
Max traced his fingers across her back, inciting a trail of fire across her flesh. His fingers moved higher and higher until they found the hook of her strapless bra. He released the garment, and it fell away, leaving her skin exposed to his explorative touch.
If this moment was to replace every memory of Damien, she needed to free her mind, embrace this forbidden passion. Olivia opened her senses. She drank in every little pleasure—from Max’s silken touch to the feel of his chest against her aching breasts. The quickened pace of their breathing mingled, filled the empty silence.
Max’s tongue slipped through her parted lips, connected with hers, and sent a jolt of pure desire straight to her core. Her fingers curled around his shoulders, across his back, and down to his waist until she found the button of his dress pants. Boldly, she flicked the button open. When she fumbled with the zipper, he pulled back and stripped off his pants and boxers, throwing them against the wall.
When she tensed as he stood before her, naked and aroused, he took her hand, turned it over, and kissed her palm. “Please, don’t have second thoughts now. I couldn’t take it if you did.”
“No second thoughts,” she said, carefully removing her shoes. Thankful the lights were off, she tossed her panties aside. She would make certain to wear sexier underwear from this point on. “I want this.”
She barely finished her sentence before they came back together, their naked bodies edged with the moon’s silver glow. His body molded to hers as he explored every ridge and hollow of her shoulders to her waist.
Emboldened by her own daring, Olivia explored her fill of the muscles cording his torso, his arms, his back, until suddenly touching only parts of him wasn’t enough. She needed to feel every inch of his body. Boldly, she slid her hands down his thighs and up to cup his bottom, pulling him closer still until the V between her legs settled intimately against his erection. Where they touched, her body grew hot, damp, and an intensity of need flared like a match inside her.
With his mouth still on hers, he lifted her in his arms and strode with her to the bed. He settled her on the mattress, then went to his knees beside her. He spread her thighs, his palms feverishly running up and down her flesh, feeling the textures, the nuances of her most intimate places.
He pulled back but didn’t move far away. In fact, he kept one hand on her breast, gently stroking her nipple as he stared down at her. “I need a moment to savor you,” he said, his voice tight.
The last of her inhibitions fled as a new wave of desire flooded her limbs, turning her blood to melted honey. She reached up and cupped his chin with her other hand, then ran her knuckles against the side of his neck, splaying her hand across his chest then to his waist, along the curve of his buttocks, his thigh, until she stroked the velvet softness of his rigid shaft.
He closed his eyes and groaned. “What a rare woman you are, Olivia. You’re not afraid to lose control, which makes this moment even more erotic.”
Erotic. Her? “You make it easy to lose control,” she whispered as his hand moved down to cup her womanhood. His forefinger and middle finger stroked her, probed, then sank into her moisture. She cried out, clenching the muscles around his fingers, adjusting to his presence, encouraging him on.
His fingers began a slow, methodical rhythm. She clutched his shoulders and held on as the tension inside her built, coiling through their intimacy, threatening to break free.
He was a stranger, and yet his touch seemed so right. It could very well be because she hadn’t done this in eight months. It didn’t matter why, only that it was happening now. She gave herself over to the smell of oranges that lingered on his skin, the feel of his heartbeat against her own, to the sensations unfurling in her.
He must have sensed her need to move beyond their heated exploration, because he shifted away, reaching for something in the bedside table drawer. “I have no idea why I did, but God, I’m glad I brought these today.” He unwrapped a condom and slipped it over his erection. He moved over her, settled between her hips, and pressed into her body so slowly she could feel every inch of his possession until he filled her fully. Completing her.
Olivia gave a cry of wild satisfaction as she arched against him, her muscles tense. Rational thought vanished. He held himself back for an instant, then surged forward again. The sensation of him swamped her senses with pleasure and set her body afire beneath his as she moved with him in a rhythm that existed only for them in this moment.
Once again, she closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation of him—so rigid and heavy. With each stroke, each touch, each bold caress, she could feel the little pieces of her withered soul come back to life. For eight months she’d longed for someone to break the spell Damien had held over her.
Olivia made no attempt to guide or direct their lovemaking. She simply let it lead them both to passion’s end, to the fulfillment that waited. As though sensing her ultimate surrender, Max shifted his hands beneath her body, cupped her bottom in his palms, and lifted her against him, inviting himself deeper inside.
Heat flared, fueling their movements, moving them toward the waiting abyss. The rasp of their mingled breathing filled the darkness as they climbed, reaching for the peak.
Sensation streaked through her, building, spiraling until she couldn’t do anything but accept what he offered. Glory broke over her in a rush of pure pleasure.
Max buried himself deep within her, reaching that pinnacle a heartbeat after her. Together, their limbs twined, their breathing ragged, they drifted back into the softness of the night. Max rested on his elbows against her as though he hadn’t the will to move from her. His chest moved in and out as he caught his breath.
Slowly, he shifted away, only to pull her tightly against his side. With tenderness, he reached up and touched her cheek.
Olivia lay there, staring into Max’s gray eyes as they floated back to reality. Their lovemaking had been unexpected. They’d known each other’s needs without prompting. That had never happened before. The thought was as unsettling as it was thrilling. She’d come willingly to his room to banish one memory and replace it with another, and she’d succeeded. Her only regret was that this moment couldn’t last forever.
Quiet, tender moments ticked past as Max’s heartbeat slowed, his breathing eased. Yet his brain still turned in a reckless tumble of thoughts. What just happened? He hadn’t expected such a powerful explosion of need and desire, and not just within himself. He’d felt her body opening out to his, like a flower coming to life.
Her gaze was on him, warm yet intense, as though she, too, was trying to make sense of what had just taken possession of their souls. He’d love for her to take his Matchmaker test, to see what kind of match his algorithm came up with for her. He had no doubt his own profile would be at the top of that list.
She looked at him as though she expected him to say something that would bridge this moment of unexpected bliss back to real life. But he couldn’t find the words, not the right ones, anyway. He could barely assemble his thoughts in any rational order because they warred with one another.
He’d asked her if she had a boyfriend, and it had pleased him to know she was unencumbered by emotional ties. He only wished he could say the same. He wasn’t breaking any moral codes being with her tonight. But his life wasn’t that simple. There were obstacles in his way that might make a relationship with her more complicated than it needed to be.
He should tell her the truth. Yet caution held him silent. Instead of words, he gave her a smile and hoped it communicated what she needed to see, what he couldn’t say.
&
nbsp; She offered him a sleepy smile in return.
Satisfied for now, Max slipped his arm beneath her shoulders, drawing her closer. She rested her head against the curl of his shoulder and slid her arm over his waist.
Max inhaled the sweet scent of roses and jasmine and closed his eyes. Tonight was special, magical even. He had to be honest with her and tell her that he was more than a mathematician. Tomorrow. In the bright light of day, he would finally tell her everything.
Sometime after midnight, Olivia woke. She lay there in a sleeping Max’s arms, her body filled with a delicious languor from their lovemaking that had shut off her thoughts. But no longer.
As the silence surrounded her, she wondered what would happen next. Was she looking for more from Max Right? Or with her goal of one night of passion achieved, was it time to leave the fantasy behind her? Indulging herself a heartbeat more, she inhaled the orangey scent of his skin, then sighed. Careful not to disturb him, Olivia slipped out of Max’s arms and out of his bed. Bathed in darkness, she collected her clothes and pulled her dress over her head. On silent feet she stepped toward the door, opened and closed it softly before making her way to the elevator. No one was awake at this time of the morning to see her enter the parking garage or her car.
She sat back against the seat, her hands on the steering wheel, but she didn’t turn the key in the ignition. What had happened with Max had been so unexpected. But despite their shocking connection, Max would no doubt eventually break her heart, just like Damien. It was best to end this now.
Drawing a ragged breath, Olivia started the car and made her way through the still streets, back to her Belltown condominium, back to her safe and slightly boring life. In lonelier moments of her future, she’d relive this memory, hardly believing such a passionate fling had ever happened to a girl like her.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Sorry to be late,” Olivia apologized as she slipped into the open seat beside Ellie Hawthorne at The Lucky Club.
Along Came Mr. Right Page 2
