“No. This is really silly. I’m going to e-mail him right now and tell him I can’t make it.” She heard Maggie sputter behind her, but Grace ignored her as she headed out of the kitchen and up to her room. She chewed on a cookie while her laptop booted up.
She read and reread the note. Max’s handwriting was like something from a medieval scroll. It was beautiful. She set the computer on her bed and then sat cross-legged on her mattress and pulled up her e-mail. She typed in his address, staring at the blinking cursor and trying to figure out exactly what to say. She decided to match his tone. Formal and polite was definitely the way to go.
After typing out her reply, she shut her laptop with a little more force than she meant to and sat back against her headboard. She couldn’t understand why his request had affected her so intensely. He was just some guy trying to get into the pants of a girl he couldn’t have. Right?
She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. She was going to ignore him and hope he’d go away.
* * *
Max closed the door of his suite, grimacing at the sight of the hole in the wall. Niall was right. He really had to get control over his anger. As he walked to where he’d stashed his drawing pad, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see he’d received an e-mail. He didn’t recognize the address, which he hoped meant it was from Grace.
He grabbed his laptop, sat at his desk, and pulled up the note.
______________________
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Your Show
Dear Mr. MacMillan,
Thank you for the offer to attend one of your concerts. I’m sorry, but I have a prior commitment and will be unable to make it.
Sincerely,
Grace Wilson
Max swore, toppling the chair as he stood. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He dragged his hands down his face and paced the room. He had to figure out a way to see her.
A knock at his door sounded and he tore it open to find his brother.
“What’s wrong now?” Niall asked.
“I thought you were leaving me to write.”
“And I thought you were going to learn to control your emotions,” Niall retorted. “I can feel your anger through the bloody walls. I wanted to make sure you didn’t break anything else.”
“You’re hilarious, Nye.”
“So I’ve been told.” Niall righted the chair and crossed his arms. “Now, what’s the matter?”
“She’s not coming.”
“Grace?”
“No, Mother Theresa,” he snapped. “Yes, Grace. She’s got another commitment.”
“She’s singing at church. Her sister already told you that.”
“I know, Niall.” Max scowled. “What the fuck does the woman expect from me?”
“The ‘woman’ doesn’t expect anything from you,” Niall said. “She doesn’t even know you.”
“She’s my mate,” he argued.
“She’s a human,” Niall pointed out. “And knows nothing about us.”
Max swore again.
“You really need to get a more creative vocabulary.”
Another uncreative word followed by “you,” made Niall laugh. “You know who you should talk to about this?” he suggested.
“Who?”
“Connall,” Niall said. “Or better yet, Pepper.”
“No way in hell I’m running to my friend with girl troubles,” Max grumbled.
“Fair enough, but I am going to make a wee adjustment in our schedule.”
“Oh, you are, are you?” Max retorted.
“Aye. We’ll go straight to the hotel tomorrow night after the show, and on Sunday, you and I are going to church.”
“No.”
“Aye.”
“Fuck off,” Max ordered.
“Do I need to take the furniture with me?”
Max glared at his brother. Niall raised his hands with a laugh and headed toward the door. “Good night, Maxim.”
“Night, NimNim,” Max said, and closed the door with a satisfying thump. He returned to the desk and stared at his computer before sitting down again. A few minutes later, he pressed send, sat back, and waited for his magic to work.
* * *
Grace opened her laptop again, remembering she’d never finished filling out the job application she’d started earlier. As she hit submit on the business page, she heard the ding indicating she had a new e-mail and switched screens. Her heart raced as she stared at the bolded address.
Max replied. Why?
She opened the e-mail and stared at his note. A niggling suspicion entered her mind and she scowled as she let out a rather creative curse. “Spencer Wilson. I am so going to get you for this.”
Spencer had taken a calligraphy class freshman year of college to get close to a cute girl he’d spent weeks trying to woo. He was also the worst of the worst when it came to practical jokes. He’d have had no problem writing that note. He did, after all, get an A in the class.
______________________
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: re: Your Show
Dearest Grace,
I’m saddened to hear you aren’t able to make it tomorrow night. You will be missed. Perhaps we could meet this week. Would you allow me to take you to dinner?
Yours,
Max.
P.S. Tell me about your e-mail address.
She grinned. “Let’s see how far you’ll go with this charade, little brother.”
______________________
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: re: Your Show
Max, that’s very kind of you to offer dinner, however, I’m quite busy this week. I have a hair appointment (I will be shaving my head to eliminate my most recent lice outbreak), I have to bathe my seven cats...Mr. Mittens, in particular, really needs his mommy time...and most importantly, I absolutely must get my toe fungus dealt with. I’m sure you have a lot on your plate as well, so perhaps some other time. In response to your P.S., I didn’t completely fail ballet lessons, but I got close. Tell me about yours.
Sincerely,
Grace.
Grace hit send and bit her lip. Would he respond? Take the hint? She didn’t have to wait long before the satisfying sound of the ding broke through the silence.
______________________
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: re: Your Show
Grace, I only have tomorrow’s show on my agenda at the present time. We don’t leave for Alaska until Wednesday, so I’m at your disposal when you find time in your schedule. I’m sorry to hear about your fungus issues, but I’m sure a doctor will take care of that. I do hope there’s an alternative to taking care of the lice...I’m rather fond of your glorious locks. I must say, I thought cats bathed themselves...is this an American thing? Where’s your favorite restaurant? I’ll take you anywhere you like. You tell me when and where and I’ll make it happen. The e-mail address was an impractical joke my tour manager played on me, with the approval of my annoying younger brother. I have yet to have the time or inclination to change it, since almost no one uses this address...except you now, of course.
Yours,
Max.
Grace couldn’t help a quiet giggle. “Okay, Spence. You want some fun? Let’s have some fun.”
______________________
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Dinner...
Max, I don’t think dinner will happen. You’re very sweet to offer, but I have to find a job this week, and I have commitments tomorrow and Sunday. I also have a big surprise planned for my brother, and he’s going to absolutely flip his lid. Despite my destitute financial situati
on, I have been squirreling money away for months, because I really need to spoil Spencer. I mean, he really is the greatest man on earth. God broke the mold when he made him.
Sincerely,
Grace
P.S. I told my brother and sister I find you repulsive, but secretly I’m in love with you. I just wish I knew you were real, you know?
______________________
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Intrigued
Grace, I must say I’m very pleased to hear you’re in love with me. Perhaps a Skype call would allay your fears? My Skype address user name is MAXIM. I shall await your call.
GRACE LET OUT an evil laugh. What to do? What to do? She scurried to the bathroom, slathered on the green facial mask she and her sister favored, and pulled her hair into a severe bun atop her head. After rubbing a little red lipstick on her teeth, she grinned and made her way back to her laptop. Powering up Skype, she entered in the address and waited for him to approve her contact request. Within seconds the ring of Skype sounded and she answered with video, making sure she had her red teeth showing.
“Well, hello, Grace.”
Grace let out a squeal or horror and jumped off the bed, out of camera range.
“Grace?” Max called.
“Um, hold on. Sorry. Sorry. I have to go.” She covered the camera with her finger and disconnected the call.
Her bedroom door popped open and Maggie stuck her head in the door. “Are you okay?”
“No!” Grace cried. “Ohmigod, ohmigod!”
The ring of Skype sounded again as Maggie stepped inside and closed the door. “Who’s that?”
“Probably Max.”
“Shut up! Maximilian MacMillan is Skype-ing you?” Maggie snapped. “You have to answer it.”
Grace waved her hands over her face. “Um, helloooo, I can’t!”
“Why are you all creepy looking?”
“It’s a long story.”
The sound of the ringing echoed again and Grace let out a frustrated squeal.
“I’m getting it,” Maggie said.
“No!”
But it was too late.
“Max?” Maggie said, her hand to her chest in adoration. “Hi. Oh my...ah...wow, it’s really you.”
“Hello, lass. Did you enjoy the show?”
Grace rushed out of the room and to the bathroom, scrubbing her face and brushing her teeth as fast as she could. She couldn’t feel her lips for some strange reason. She must be going into shock. Maybe if she just hid here, Maggie would bore Max to death and Grace wouldn’t have to talk to him.
“Grace,” Maggie hissed from the doorway. “He wants to talk to you.”
Grace rubbed her lips, trying to force circulation back into them. “Tell him I died.”
“Gracie. Come on.”
“No, tell him my toe fungus killed me.”
“What?” Maggie asked in horror. “You have toe fungus? Ew, gross.”
“No,” Grace said in irritation. “I thought Spencer wrote the note, as a practical joke.”
“Why would you think that?” Maggie asked, her face scrunched in confusion. “I gave you the note, not Spencer.”
Grace groaned again. “I know, Mags. I just thought maybe you were in it together.”
Maggie frowned and then burst into giggles. “Holy shit. Did you tell Max you had toe fungus?”
Grace nodded. “And lice, and seven cats. And that I was destitute.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Maggie’s giggles turned into guffaws. “Seriously? And you got on camera looking like the troll from under the bridge.”
“Yes. Rub it in, Mags, that helps.”
“Well, he’s waiting for you on Skype, so now that you look cute again, maybe you should talk to him.”
Grace shook her head. “No way. Go tell him I can’t talk to him.”
“No.”
“I’ll pay you.”
“You’re destitute, remember?” Maggie retorted.
“Please, Magpie. I can’t talk to him now.”
“You have to.” She waved her hand. “Come on, he’s waiting.”
Grace squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She followed her sister back into her bedroom. The laptop glared at her from the middle of her bed and she couldn’t help but pause in her steps.
Maggie sat on the bed and leaned toward the screen. “Hi, Max, she’ll be right with you.”
“Thanks, lass.”
Grace bit her lip. Oh, that voice. So incredibly sexy. Maggie climbed off the bed and pointed to the laptop. Grace frowned, shaking her head.
“Yes.”
“No,” Grace whispered. “Especially not with you in here.”
“I’ll leave you alone,” Maggie whispered, “if you promise to talk to him and fill me in on every detail.”
Grace gave a quick nod and Maggie tiptoed from the room.
“Grace?” Max called. “Are you there?”
“No,” she grumbled.
He chuckled. “Will you come and chat, lass?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“I’ve got all night and free wireless, so I can wait.”
Grace shuffled to the bed and held her finger over the camera as she sat down. She waited a few seconds before removing her hand and forcing a smile. “Hi.”
Max gave her the sexiest grin she’d ever seen. “Hi. You’ve done something different with your hair in the last ten minutes.”
“Um, right. Sorry about that. I thought my brother was pranking me.”
“So, no toe fungus or lice, then?”
She shook her head. “Not presently, no.”
“What about the cats?”
“Oh, those are real,” she retorted.
Max laughed. “Seven. That’s quite a few.”
She sighed. “One. We have one cat. He’s my mother’s.”
“Ah. I see.”
Grace needed to change the subject. Something to distract from him smiling at her...she couldn’t think when he was smiling at her. She glanced at the keyboard. “How was your show? Maggie said it was amazing.”
“It was good,” he said. “It would have been better if you’d been there.”
Grace cleared her throat. “Sorry. I couldn’t get out of my plans.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to have all access.”
Grace forced a smile. “I made a commitment to someone else. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out.”
“I would have much preferred you were with me, but I suppose you’re forgiven, lass. Especially since we’re talking now.”
She felt irritation flood in. She didn’t really know why she was apologizing...and he forgave her? She hadn’t done anything wrong. “Well, I should really go. I have a long weekend ahead of me.”
“Your sister mentioned you’re singing this weekend.”
“Yes. I’m doing a favor for a friend and singing at her church.”
A frown flitted across his face, but didn’t last long. “How long have you been singing, lass?”
“Forever it seems like.”
“Would you like to sing with me sometime? I’d certainly be willing to do a duet with you, if you’d like to impress your friends.”
“You’d be willing?” she repeated, not sure she’d heard his offer right.
“Aye. You tell me what you’d like to sing and I’ll be happy to sing it with you.”
Oh, the nerve!
Grace shook her head. “No, thank you.”
He frowned again.
“I really should go,” she said.
“You can’t,” Max demanded. “Our conversation isn’t finished.”
“It is for me.” She hung up and shut down her laptop, lest he try to call again. Within seconds she felt guilt creep in at her rudeness, but she shook it off. Perhaps she’d write him a note of apology in the morning.
* * *
Max sat and stared at t
he blank Skype screen. He didn’t understand what had just happened. Never in the history of Maxdom had there been a woman who wouldn’t have swooned at the chance to sing with him. He knew he needed help, and he knew Con would be the best person to talk to. His mate, Pepper, had been human before he bound her. Pepper was also American. Which meant she might have insight that he wouldn’t have. He checked his watch. It wasn’t too early back in Scotland. He dialed the number.
“Hi, Max.” Connall picked up on the first ring. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“How’s it going with Grace?”
Max swore.
“That good, eh?” Connall chuckled. “What’s worse? The human aspect or the American?”
“Hey,” Pepper snapped in the background.
“I’m going with both,” Max said, “since I’ve yet to spend any time with her.”
“Give me the phone,” Pepper demanded.
Max rolled his eyes. Pepper was strong, passionate, and very pregnant. Connall would do just about anything she told him to do right about now.
“Have you completely fucked it up yet?” she asked.
“I’m guessing I’m not far off, lass,” Max admitted. “So why don’t you lay your wisdom on me? I could use all the help I can get.”
“What have you tried?” she asked.
Max relayed the interview and note attempt, and then filled Pepper in on the newest development about Grace being a church-going girl and their strange Skype call.
“Oh, Max,” Pepper said with a giggle. “Did you really ask her to sing with you the way you just said?”
“Aye. Why? What’s wrong with that? There are millions of women who’d kill to sing with me.”
Pepper laughed. “That’s exactly the problem, Max. You were offering it to her as though you were the Pope offering a blessing.”
“So?”
“So, that made you sound arrogant, buddy.”
“But it is an honor,” he grumbled. “I didn’t mean for it to sound arrogant.”
“I know you didn’t.” Pepper laughed again. “It’ll be okay. She’ll figure out you’re not so bad. And you’ll figure out that even good girls can be fun. You’re just going to have to adjust and realize you’re not the greatest thing on earth.”
Bound by Song (Cauld Ane Series, #4) Page 3
