Not the most gracious apology she had ever received, but for all that Abby could see that it was sincere. Although his grim expression didn’t exactly encourage questions as to why he had been so angry and bad-tempered throughout their meal. She knew the who, of course, just not the why…
But now probably wasn’t the time to pursue the subject. ‘I didn’t notice,’ she came back lightly, eyes glowing with mischief as she met his gaze.
‘Yeah, right,’ he drawled self-mockingly, his dark mood seeming to ease somewhat.
‘Would you like to come up for the coffee we both refused at Luigi’s?’
Max gave her a look. ‘The last woman to invite me in for coffee had something else in mind.’
‘I’m only offering coffee,’ she assured him dryly.
At least, she thought she was…
Because, despite—or because of!—his lack of conversation during lunch, Abby’s awareness of him had only grown. To the point where she was acutely aware of every move he made, of the dark hair visible above his T-shirt, of the way that fitted T-shirt emphasised the powerful width of his shoulders and chest, of the hard sensuality of his face, of the way his hair fell endearingly across his forehead…
She hoped she was only inviting him in for coffee…
His sensuality was something she was too aware of. His aura of totally masculine power touched and inflamed something deep inside her—something that had been totally unknown to her until today. Total physical awareness. And it completely took her breath away. Her body felt incredibly warm, her legs and arms lethargic.
She hoped Max wasn’t aware of it, too!
He didn’t appear to be as he locked the car before taking a light hold on her arm. ‘Remind me to have a word with you later about the fragility of a man’s ego,’ he told her dryly as she let them both into the apartment building.
Some men’s egos, perhaps, Abby thought as they went up together in the lift. The research she had already done on this man told her that just because he had never remarried it didn’t mean there had been a shortage of women in his life—she had been being deliberately provocative earlier, when she’d questioned his sexual preference! And he was usually the one to bring an end—usually an abrupt end—to his relationships.
Which warned her that she would be a fool to follow up her own obvious attraction to him—if she needed any warning…
Research was one thing, but the man himself was a puzzle within an enigma. And Abby had a distinct feeling he preferred it like that. An only child of wealthy parents, who had lived mainly on the island of Majorca for the last ten years, with no other emotional ties, Max was pretty much a law unto himself.
And everything about him shouted that he intended remaining that way.
Not that Abby was interested in a serious relationship with anyone, either. Her last relationship, of six months’ duration, had ended several months ago, and she was in no hurry to repeat the experience of someone wanting to know what she was doing and what she was thinking twenty-four hours a day! Besides, Monty hadn’t liked Andrew at all—arching his back and hissing whenever he’d seen him.
But he liked Max, a little voice whispered inside her head.
Something that was reaffirmed when Abby came back from the kitchen carrying two mugs of steaming hot coffee and found Monty sitting majestically on Max’s knee, his whole body one big purr.
‘What can I say? He likes me!’ Max laughed huskily as he saw her disgusted look.
Abby put one of the mugs down on the table in front of him. ‘Enough to have restored that fragile male ego?’ she taunted as she sat down in the chair opposite.
‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far.’ He shrugged, his expression sobering. ‘I really am sorry about lunch. I invited you out, and then behaved like a bad-tempered idiot throughout. Gary Holmes will do that to me every time!’ he added harshly.
Abby eyed him over the top of her coffee mug. ‘I know why I don’t like him, but what did he ever do to you?’
Max’s expression was grim, his eyes glacial. ‘I took you out to lunch because I thought we needed to talk, not so that I could answer questions—’
‘But we didn’t talk, Max,’ Abby cut in pointedly, deciding to ignore his deliberate challenge, though she was aware that he was reverting back to that coldly arrogant man of their first meeting, those barriers coming down like the steel of prison bars.
‘No, we didn’t,’ he acknowledged harshly, looking at her with piercing grey eyes. ‘Because Holmes’s remarks made me realise that I had stupidly allowed myself to become sidetracked from the fact that you’re still just another reporter looking for an angle. Worse—you’re a chat-show host looking for an angle.’ He put Monty to one side before standing up.
That last remark hurt—on two fronts. Personally, because she liked this man far more than was good for her. And professionally, because the intensifying attraction she felt towards this man had made her forget all about her job. The truth was, she found Max so physically mesmerising that she hadn’t even thought about her show the whole time they had been together—or the fact that she still wanted him as her final guest.
It was this latter realisation that brought her to her feet, too, eyes sparkling with resentment now. ‘You are being extremely unfair,’ she snapped. ‘I never so much as—What do you mean, you “allowed” yourself to become sidetracked?’ she demanded with a frown.
Max gave a humourless smile. ‘Stupidly allowed myself to become sidetracked,’ he corrected harshly, that icy grey gaze unfathomable as it swept over her with calculation.
Abby withstood his cold look with a challenging lift of her chin, knowing from the contemptuous curl of those sculptured lips that whatever he was looking at certainly wasn’t the same reflection she saw when she looked in the mirror every morning.
And the tension was unbearable. The very air seemed to crackle between them as their gazes remained locked in silent battle.
Abby was determined—childishly?—not to be the first to break that gaze. No, not childishly; there was nothing in the least child-like about the way she was looking at Max. Or the way he was looking at her. In fact, his gaze had become altogether adult in its appraisal now, those grey eyes seeming to frown disapprovingly even as his gaze shifted to her mouth.
She couldn’t help what happened next: it was pure instinct that made her run her tongue self-consciously over the lips he was frowning at so darkly. A move that only seemed to make his expression become grimmer than ever.
She sighed. ‘Look, Max, I don’t know—’
‘Oh, you know, Abby,’ he ground out, even as he stepped towards her. ‘You really can’t be that naïve!’ he added scornfully.
But she was! In fact she had no idea what he was talking about—what she had done…
Every coherent thought left her head as Max reached out to grasp her arms and pull her into the hardness of his body, lowering his head as his lips claimed hers.
She did know, after all. This was what Max was talking about. This was what had sidetracked him earlier—he was as aware of her as she was of him.
It was a punishing kiss. Max completely skipped the tentative, the gentle exploration, going straight to heated passion, his mouth possessing hers with a fierceness Abby more than returned. Her arms slid up his chest as she pushed the jacket from his shoulders and threw it over onto the sofa, and his arms were like steel bands as he moulded her soft curves against the powerful hardness of his, at the same time making her fully aware of his arousal.
She was so hot, so aware, every nerve, every sense heightened as she kissed him back with all the pent-up emotion of the last couple of hours. This was what she wanted, what she had longed for since the moment she had first looked at Max Harding.
He felt so good, his shoulders so wide and muscled. He smelt so good, a light cologne only adding to the musky smell that tantalised her senses as much as the lips exploring hers with such thoroughness. His hands were now seeking the pleasure spots of her b
ody, palms running firmly down her spine before moving forward to cup her breasts, the soft pads of his thumbs moving rhythmically against the hardened tips.
Abby gasped with pleasure, groaning low in her throat as Max’s tongue sought and found hers, before exploring the moist hollows of her mouth, touching nerve-endings she hadn’t known existed, taking her to heights she had never known. She was aware only of Max, of the touch of his hands, his lips, his tongue. Every particle of her, it seemed, was consumed by a need that was rapidly growing out of control inside her. She—
She suddenly found herself thrust away from him at arm’s length, blinking up at him dazedly, knowing by the flush above the hard cheekbones that he had been as aroused as she was, and with no idea what had caused him to bring a halt to their lovemaking. It certainly hadn’t been because of a lack of response on her part, she acknowledged with a certain amount of self-derision, her cheeks becoming heated with the awareness of the depths of her arousal.
She shook her head. ‘Max, what—?’
‘You have a visitor,’ he rasped, eyes glittering as his hands briefly tightened on her arms before he released her with a suddenness that made her stumble slightly. At the same time the doorbell buzzed—for the second time?
If someone had buzzed up already then Abby hadn’t been aware of it—completely lost in her desire for Max, in the way he had kissed and tantalised her. But Max obviously hadn’t been as mindlessly aroused as her.
‘Shouldn’t you answer that?’ he bit out abruptly, thrusting his hands into his pockets, his expression darkly brooding as he looked at her.
Should she? Did she really want to see anyone just now? Besides, who could it be? Her parents lived in the country, she had seen Dorothy only this morning, and at the moment, with the sexual tension still tangible between herself and Max, she didn’t want to see anyone else.
She shook her head. ‘I’m not expecting anyone.’ Her gaze locked on Max as she searched for signs of his arousal. And found none.
‘No?’ He quirked dark, sceptical brows as the buzzer sounded—more persistently this time.
Abby gave a pained frown. They needed to talk, not to be interrupted by a third party. Any third party. The kiss just now had proved that Max was as attracted to her as she was to him. That was why he had become ‘sidetracked’, as he’d put it, and they needed—
‘Just now was a mistake, Abby,’ Max told her harshly as he seemed to read her thoughts. ‘One not to be repeated!’
‘But—’
‘Get the damned door!’ he grated as the buzzer sounded again. ‘I’m leaving, anyway,’ he added, sounding disgusted, as he shrugged back into his jacket.
She could feel the heat of tears in her eyes at this total rejection of her, of what they had just shared. But she knew she hadn’t imagined his response to her; she wasn’t that inexperienced!
But in the face of his denial, and the return of the iceman from their first meeting, she knew she would be a fool to pursue it, that she would be only leaving herself wide open to further humiliation. Worse, Max was more than capable of verbally annihilating her if she pushed him any further on the subject.
With one last lingering glance at the rigidity of his uncompromising back she walked dejectedly over to the door to press the intercom. ‘Yes?’ she said dispiritedly, not in the mood to speak to anyone right now. Except Max. And he didn’t want to speak to her.
Maybe, if they hadn’t been interrupted like this maybe they would have ended up in bed together! After which Max would still have left…
‘Not interrupting anything, am I, Abby?’
She stiffened, her eyes widening incredulously as she recognised Gary Holmes’s insolent tone. She turned quickly to look at Max, knowing by the iciness of his gaze, the sudden tension of his body, that he had recognised the other man’s voice too.
What was Gary doing here? He had never been to her apartment before—had never been invited! Well, he hadn’t been invited this time either, but he was still here. And it couldn’t have happened at a worse time!
What was Max thinking about the other man turning up here?
Hard to tell from that arrogantly closed expression. Certainly nothing good, anyway.
‘Abby?’ Gary Holmes prompted irritably at her continued silence.
Max’s mouth twisted contemptuously. ‘He seems to be getting impatient. I should let him in if I were you.’
Well, he wasn’t her. And as far as she was concerned Gary Holmes had no right being here. She didn’t like him, and certainly didn’t want to invite him into her home. He might be the director of her show, but that gave him no right to invade her personal life.
She gave Max one last resentful glare before turning away to speak into the intercom. ‘What do you want, Gary?’
He gave an audible chuckle. ‘Now, that’s a leading question!’
Not as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t! Not as far as Max was concerned either, if the scornful way he was looking at her was anything to go by.
She gave an impatient sigh. ‘I’m not in the mood for your mind games right now, Gary, so just say what you have to say and then go.’
‘That isn’t very friendly of you, Abby,’ Gary drawled unconcernedly. ‘I have a few things I need to discuss with you.’
‘We’ll talk on Monday—’
‘I want to talk to you now, not Monday,’ he cut in cheerfully. ‘Look, why don’t I walk up, instead of taking the lift, and give the two of you time to put some clothes on—’
‘How dare you?’ Abby gasped, shooting Max a panicked glance.
Gary knew that Max was up here with her, knew they had been making love—even if he had got their state of dress slightly wrong. Although if he had arrived ten minutes or so later, he might not have done…
‘Oh, for God’s sake, stop acting like some outraged virgin and open the door, Abby!’ Gary rasped.
She didn’t resist as Max appeared at her side, putting her firmly out of the way before pressing the intercom button. ‘I have a better idea, Gary,’ he bit out coldly. ‘Abby will leave the door locked, and you can go and—’
‘Really, Max,’ Gary interrupted tauntingly. ‘I’m sure you shouldn’t be using language like that in front of a lady. And Abby is so very much a lady, isn’t she?’ he continued tauntingly. ‘Wealthy parents, private schooling, not having to work her way through university, with the sort of looks and body all that money can buy. Class, with a capital C, that’s our Abby—’
‘I am not your Abby, damn it!’ she was stung into shouting.
‘No?’ Gary came back mildly. ‘Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it. I guess I’ll speak to you later, after all. Bye, Max,’ he added mockingly.
What was Gary doing? What was he implying? There was only the sound of static on the intercom now.
One glance at Max’s icily contemptuous expression and she knew exactly what Gary had been trying to do. Surely Max couldn’t really think—couldn’t honestly believe—?
But as Max turned away, his expression now more coldly remote than ever, Abby could see that was exactly what he believed.
She drew in a shaky breath, realising as she did so that she was actually trembling. Not surprisingly. First that passionate explosion between herself and Max, quickly followed by this totally unwanted visit from Gary Holmes!
The latter she would have to deal with later—and deal with it she would! The former—well, Max already looked in the process of leaving…
‘Max, you can’t believe—’
‘It doesn’t matter what I believe, Abby.’
‘But it does,’ she protested emotionally. ‘I have no idea what—what all that was about.’ She gestured in the direction of the intercom. ‘I’ll have to talk to Gary about that on Monday,’ she added determinedly. ‘But you can’t allow Gary Holmes’s warped sense of humour to affect us—’
‘Us?’ Max repeated tauntingly, smiling with grim humour as he shook his head. ‘A few kisses and a little light g
roping do not make an “us”, Abby,’ he dismissed.
A few kisses and—! Abby felt her cheeks suffuse with humiliated colour. First Gary, and now this—it was just too much!
She drew herself up to her full height of five feet four inches, her chin raised challengingly. ‘I think you had better leave—’
‘Before I say something I’ll regret?’ Max finished scornfully, his hooded gaze unreadable. ‘In the circumstances, do you really think that’s possible?’
Probably not, she thought, swallowing her inward misery. If he didn’t go soon—very soon—she was very much afraid she might just break down and cry—and in the circumstances that was the last thing she wanted to do in front of Max.
She had no idea what game Gary was playing, or why he should have guessed that Max was up here with her. When Gary had seen the two of them together at the bistro they hadn’t so much as kissed each other yet, had surely given off no air of intimacy. Maybe his game was really just with Max—there had certainly been enough animosity between the two men earlier. If that were the case, then she didn’t care for being caught in the middle of their obviously long-standing dislike of each other.
Besides, Max obviously couldn’t wait to get away from here. From her. And she needed him to go, too, if only so that she could think clearly enough to try and make some sense of what had just happened between the two of them. If there was any sense to be made of it…
She gave a confident shake of her head. ‘You aren’t interested in what I think, Max.’
‘You’re right,’ he shot back sharply. ‘I’m not.’ His mouth twisted derisively. ‘Good luck with the show next week.’
He didn’t really mean that either, Abby knew, as he turned abruptly on his heel, her apartment door slamming forcefully behind him seconds later.
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