Who Gets to Marry Max?

by Neesa Hart

  Kelly groaned. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “It’s an informal dinner, Kel. Not a well-planned seduction.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. At least tell me you’re planning to serve oysters.”

  “Pesto fettucini.”

  “Oh, ugh. Take my advice and give the poor man something with some fat in it. I have a rule about that. Never have a dinner party with less than forty grams of fat per serving. It’s bad form.”

  “You’ll be relieved to know that I was thinking of chocolate amaretto cheesecake for dessert.”

  “Good plan.” She pursed her lips. “Serve that first.”

  Sidney’s lips twitched. “You’re so subtle.”

  “It’s my middle name.” Kelly narrowed her gaze. “So about the shopping.”

  “I’m not going shopping.”

  Kelly’s sigh rustled the baby’s breath in the centerpiece. “I was afraid of that. Okay, promise me one thing—”

  “I’m not calling you to tell you what happens.”

  “Not that.” Kelly gave her a stern look. “I have some tact, you know.”

  “I hadn’t guessed.”

  “Very funny. As it happens, I was going to ask you to swear you won’t wear that ratty yellow sweatshirt with the parrot on it.”

  “It’s a condor.”

  “Whatever. Don’t wear it.” Kelly rapped her fingers on the table. “I have a personal rule about that.”

  “Another one?” Sidney teased.

  “Yes. Never wear something on a date that looks like you used to paint in it.”

  “I like that sweatshirt.”

  “Did you, or did you not, paint your living room while wearing that.”

  “Guilty.”

  “I rest my case.”

  Sidney tossed down her napkin with a soft laugh. “Okay, okay. I’ll give in on the sweatshirt, but I’m standing my ground on the pesto.”

  “More’s the pity.”

  Chapter Nine

  “This is great.” Max twirled another forkful of the fettucini. His eyes gleamed with appreciation. “What is it?”

  She watched him with barely concealed amusement. “Pesto fettucini. I’m glad you like it.”

  “I was starving.” Still wearing the white shirt and suit trousers he’d worn to work, he looked relaxed and comfortable at her table—remarkably so, she mused, for a man who’d dined with royalty.

  “I noticed.” He was on his second serving of the heavy dish. “Did you eat lunch today?”

  Max shook his head as he swallowed his mouthful. “Too busy.” He leaned back in his chair where he’d casually slung his double-breasted jacket and silk tie.

  “You shouldn’t skip meals, you know.”

  “Trying to take care of me, Sidney?” The teasing light in his eyes turned them an extraordinary color.

  “No. That’s Uncle Philip’s job. I just nag.” She idly toyed with one of the daisies in the huge bouquet Max had brought her that evening. No telling where he’d gotten them. They weren’t in season. He’d probably had them flown in from Holland.

  Max laughed. She liked the sound. “Actually,” he said, “don’t let Philip fool you. He nags worse than an old woman.”

  “I can believe that.” She rose to clear the dishes. Max scooped up his plate and followed her to the sink.

  “But today, I don’t think even your uncle could have saved me. Fitzwater is making my life hell.”

  “Edward or Lauren?”

  “Edward. Lauren’s a peach.”

  “How’s Greg?”

  Max shrugged. “Brooding. He’ll get over it.” Sidney decided not to argue. Max handed her his plate. “You want me to load the dishwasher?”

  “Depends,” she said, rolling back the cuffs of her green silk blouse—the one concession she’d made to Kelly’s badgering. She began stacking the rinsed plates on the counter.

  “On what?”

  “Are you a dishwasher despot or not?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If you promise not to rearrange the dishes in my dishwasher, then yes, you may load. If you’re going to give me a lecture on the space efficiency of stacking things in certain places, then you can sit down and wait for your dessert.”

  Max titled his head to one side. “Can’t we just throw them away and buy new ones?”

  She flicked him with a towel. “No. I like these plates.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his lips in her hair. “Then I have a confession to make.”

  “I knew it.” A shiver traveled down her spine as his fingers traced the line of her ribcage. Sidney swallowed. “You are a dishwasher despot.”

  “Actually,” he muttered, turning her to face him, “I was going to tell you that I don’t think I’ve loaded a dishwasher in fifteen years.”

  With a laugh, she turned in his arms. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she rose on tiptoes to drop a soft kiss on his mouth. “You’re very cute. Did you know that?”

  “I’m awfully glad you think so.” His hands traveled up her spine, smoothing the silk over her flesh.

  Max dipped his head to kiss her again. Sidney leaned into him with a soft sigh of capitulation. As his lips moved over hers and his hands continued their exploration of her angles and curves, Sidney started to sink into the sheer sensation. She was seconds from drowning when a sharp knock at her door intruded on their private world. Max groaned as he released her. “Who is it?”

  Frowning, Sidney headed for the door. “I don’t know.” she opened it to find her uncle on the landing. “Uncle Philip. Hi.”

  “Hello, Sidney.” He looked grave. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

  “Is something wrong?” She beckoned him inside.

  “I need to speak with Max. Is he here?”

  Max strolled out of the kitchen. “Of course I’m here. What’s wrong, Philip.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.” Philip glanced at Sidney. “Your phone isn’t working.”

  She gave Max an apologetic look. “It’s off the hook.”

  Max’s eyes widened appreciatively. Her uncle didn’t comment as he looked back at his employer. “And you didn’t answer my page.”

  “I’m not wearing my pager.”

  At Philip’s frown, Sidney stifled a giggle. He was dying to lecture them both, but wouldn’t dream of breaching his own rigid rules of service etiquette. He cleared his throat and looked at Max. “Under the circumstances,” he said quietly, “I thought it best not to let this wait until you, er, returned.”

  Sidney frowned. “Uncle Philip, is something wrong?”

  Philip shook his head. “It’s not serious, I assure you, but I would like to speak with Mr. Loden alone for a moment.”

  Max grunted. “Spit it out, Philip. Whatever you have to tell me, Sidney can hear.”

  “Very well. It’s your sister, sir.”

  Max frowned. “Which one?”

  “Mrs. Blake.”

  “Colleen. What’s wrong?”

  “She’s left Mr. Blake. She’s in town at your penthouse and wants to see you right away.”

  Max uttered a harsh curse, then dragged his hand over his face. “Oh, hell.”

  Sidney released the breath she’d been holding. “I’m sorry, Max.”

  When he looked at her, his expression was haggard. “I have to go.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.”

  He hesitated, visibly torn. “She needs me.”

  “I know, Max. It’s really all right.” When he still didn’t move, Sidney looked at her uncle. He was watching Max with an expression of concern and curiosity. On impulse, Sidney took a step closer to Max. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  The look he gave her was unfathomable. She could have drowned in it. “Would you?”

  “Of course.” She gave his hand a slight squeeze. “That’s what friends do.”

  His fingers closed on hers in a
bruising grip. “Philip, did you drive out here, or did you bring the limo?”

  “I have my own car.”

  Max nodded. “You go ahead, then. We’ll be right behind you.”

  THEY MADE the long trip to Max’s penthouse in relative silence. Without the midday traffic, it took just over an hour. Max’s mind spun through a dozen different lectures he intended to deliver to his sister, but they were overshadowed by self-recriminations. Colleen had been brooding for weeks, and he’d ignored the signs. He’d allowed Greg’s engagement to distract him, and, if he were honest, since last weekend, he’d spared little thought for anything beyond the seduction of Sidney Grant.

  He pulled into his reserved parking space, then looked at Sidney. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  She offered him that slight smile that tied his guts in knots. “I was glad to.”

  “Rain check on dessert?”

  “Of course.”

  “And everything that comes after it?” he asked in a tantalizing whisper.

  Amusement danced in her eyes. “Have you always had this one-track mind?”

  “Lately, anyway.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that too much tacky thinking can permanently damage your brain cells?”

  With a nod, he leaned across the console to press her into her leather bucket seat. “If the general state of mush my brain has been in the past few days is any indication, I don’t doubt it,” he whispered, and covered her lips with his.

  The kiss lingered for countless seconds. He wanted to disappear in it, drown in it. If he could lose himself in the wondrous feel of kissing Sidney, he might forget the confrontation that awaited him upstairs. When she softly moaned, he wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “Soon,” he whispered. “It’s got to be soon.”

  Sidney’s hand wended around his neck. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair. “Yes, Max.”

  The capitulation had a potent effect on him. He felt the heaviness in his body, the roaring intensity in his blood. With a conscious effort of will, he ripped his mouth from hers. His soft curse filled the air between them.

  Sidney smoothed her index finger over his lips. “We should go upstairs,” she whispered.

  His breathing remained harsh, but he managed a slight smile. “This wasn’t what I had in mind when I imagined you saying those words to me.”

  “I know. Me either.” Her hand caressed the line of his jaw. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

  He nodded, then pushed open his door. They rode up in the elevator together. Max held Sidney’s hand in a firm grasp. Philip had arrived moments before them and swung open the door to the spacious penthouse suite. “Mrs. Blake is in the den,” he said quietly.

  Max nodded and started across the plush navy carpet, still holding Sidney’s hand. When they entered the book-lined room he used as an office, Colleen Blake, elegantly clad in an ivory silk suit, paced before the marble fireplace. When the door swung open, she turned to face them, her expression full of malice. “Max. God, I’m sorry Philip disturbed you. I told him not to.”

  Max led Sidney into the room, then shut the door with a decisive click. “What’s going on, Colleen.”

  Her gaze flicked to Sidney. “It’s a family matter,” she hedged.

  Max nodded. “Philip told us you’ve left Warren.”

  His sister’s scowl deepened, marring her normally attractive features. Sidney had always felt that Colleen lacked the inner beauty of her sister, Natalie. “I have.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” he challenged. “What in hell are you thinking?”

  Colleen’s hands fisted at her sides. “I see you’ve decided that it’s my fault. Don’t you even want to hear the facts first?”

  “Where is Warren?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Max scowled. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “I haven’t seen him since this morning.”

  “So have you left him or not?”

  She dropped into a leather armchair with a theatrical sigh. “I have. I can’t take it anymore, Max. I just can’t.”

  “Can’t take what?” Max strode to the beverage cart where he poured himself a glass of what Sidney now knew was filtered water. He glanced at her, raising the glass in silent query. She nodded, and he filled a second tumbler. “Colleen, do you want something to drink?”

  She sniffed. “Do you have anything stronger than lemonade?”

  “You know the answer to that.”

  “Thanks, I’ll pass.” She studied the tips of her manicured nails.

  Max handed Sidney her glass. “All right, Colleen, tell me what this is about.”

  His sister turned her angry gaze on him. “If you ever paid attention to what was going on under your nose, Max, you’d know what this was about. Warren is driving me crazy, and I can’t live with him anymore.”

  “Is he cheating on you?”

  “Who are you kidding?” she challenged. “You’d probably know that before I would. You’re the one who follows our every move.”

  Max’s jaw tightened. “Quit acting melodramatic. Is he, or isn’t he?”

  “I don’t know. I doubt it.”

  “Are you cheating on him?” Max asked.

  Colleen’s laugh was unpleasant. “And risk your wrath? Not likely. Though I’ll admit, I’ve thought about it. At times, I think I’d do just about anything to put an end to the interminable hell I’m in.”

  Max took a long drink of his water. “You could try charity work.”

  “Like sweet little Natalie, you mean? Sorry, soup kitchens aren’t my forte.”

  Max’s frown deepened. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want to divorce Warren, and I want you to promise you won’t cut me off.”

  “Divorce? On what grounds?”

  “Irreconcilable differences.”

  “I wasn’t aware that boredom was considered legal grounds for dissolving a marriage.”

  Colleen shrugged. “You can’t imagine what it’s like, Max. You’ve never had to live like this.”

  Max set his glass on the beverage cart with measured calm. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you. And I never intended for you to be unhappy. But I’d like to talk to Warren before I—”

  “I’m sure you would.” Colleen’s frown deepened. “That’s just like you. You’d take his word over mine as long as it suited you.”

  “Damn it, Colleen. If you’d think about this for a minute—”

  “I’ve been thinking about it for three years.”

  “I can’t believe—” A soft knock on the door interrupted him. “Enter,” Max barked.

  Philip Grant gently opened the door. “Mr. Blake is on his way up.” He glanced at Sidney. She couldn’t interpret the look he gave her.

  “I don’t want to see him,” Colleen said.

  Max swore. “Will you be reasonable for once in your life?”

  She glared at him. “By reasonable, you mean, give you your way?”

  “I mean stop acting like a spoiled brat.”

  Colleen’s face flushed. “You don’t have to be such a bastard, Max. I’m fully aware that if I make you angry enough, you’ll retaliate by shutting the family purse. You don’t have to resort to name-calling.”

  Sidney sucked in a pained breath. She had no doubt that the barb had hit its mark, but Max’s expression didn’t flicker. On impulse, she crossed the room to stand next to him and slip her hand into his. The only sign he gave that his sister’s remark had affected him was the way he clenched her fingers. The tense silence thickened until the door burst open and Warren Blake, looking harried and frustrated raced into the room. He didn’t spare Max and Sidney a second glance.

  Focused on his wife, he hurried toward her. “Colleen! My God, I’ve been so worried. Why didn’t you tell Estelle where you were?” His trench coat hung loosely at his sides. His uncombed hair and day’s worth of beard stubble contributed to his dishevelment.

  When Colleen wouldn’t
look at him, Warren glanced at Max. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, Warren. Maybe you can tell us.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I got home from work around seven, and Estelle—our housekeeper—told me she hadn’t seen Colleen since eight o’clock this morning.” He thrust a hand into his coat pocket and produced a note. “I found this in our bedroom.” Warren looked at Colleen. “Honey—”

  She finally faced him. “Oh, stop it, Warren. No one is impressed by this dramatic show of concern. Except maybe my brother, who has a habit of seeing only what he wants to.”

  Sidney shifted her hand to lace her fingers through Max’s. The subtle change in his breathing belied his calm facade. He said firmly, “I’d like to hear what Warren has to say.”

  “I’m sure you would,” she snapped. “And whatever it is, you’ll believe him.”

  Warren frowned. “Max doesn’t deserve that.”

  Sidney had to bite her lip to keep from agreeing. Max released her hand and strode into the center of the room. “Warren, sit down.” He indicated the chair next to Colleen. “I want to hear your side of the story first.”

  Warren dropped into the chair with a dull thud. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “This couldn’t have taken you by surprise,” Max said quietly. “Colleen’s been unhappy for months.”

  Sidney saw the startled look Max’s sister sent his way. Max, however, kept his eyes trained on his brother-in-law. “What’s going on?”

  Warren squirmed in his chair. “We’ve had some disagreements, like all married couples, but nothing I didn’t think we could work out.”

  “Disagreements?” Max’s voice had dropped to a low rumble.

  Warren studied the tassels on his loafers with avid fascination. “It’s personal, Max.”

  “It’s obviously not so personal that the two of you aren’t sitting in my library telling me about it.”

  Colleen made a delicate sound of disgust. “As if you’d give us a choice.”

  Warren sent her a quelling look. “Colleen—”

  “You don’t have to be afraid of him,” she bit out. “He’s not God, you know. No matter what he thinks.”

  Sidney clenched her teeth against a growing need to liberally distribute her opinion. From discussions with her uncle, and the few chances she’d had to observe Max’s family together, she had a fairly clear picture of Colleen’s animosity toward her brother, her family and her husband. Even though Philip rarely shared intimate details of Max’s life with her, Sidney had read between the lines often enough to develop a strong impression of Colleen’s bitterness. Unhappy even before her marriage to Warren Blake, the oldest of Max’s siblings resented everyone and everything around her—especially her oldest brother, who she seemed to blame for her discontent.