by Judy Angelo
He smiled, and it was a seductive smile, and he patted the seat beside him. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked. “I’m getting ready to seduce you.”
And that was how she knew that the sudden departure of Duke and Reed had nothing to do with her. It was Max who had set it all up.
She lowered her brows. “You told them to leave, didn’t you? You planned this.”
He shrugged. “Not exactly. When Suave decided to make it an early night I just took advantage of the situation.”
“And asked your brothers to leave, too.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yeah. I had enough of them for one night. I’d much rather spend the rest of the evening with you. Alone.”
The way he said the last word, almost on a whisper, made a thrill run up Silken’s spine. Her mouth went dry.
But she had to fight it, this desire for Maximillian Davidoff. This was all a fantasy that was going nowhere. It would end badly and she was the one who would get hurt.
“And what if I don’t want to spend the evening with you,” she parried, “alone?”
Max smiled at that and it was a confident smile.
Silken hated that. Was it so obvious to him that she wanted him?
“Stop being stubborn,” he said, his voice both amused and slightly stern at the same time. “Come over and sit beside me.”
Silken stood right where she was and instead of going over to him she folded her arms across her chest and glared down at him. Oh, so he was playing the manly man, was he, expecting her to jump at his bidding because he wanted her? Not happening.
“Don’t make me come and get you,” he said and although he was smiling the set of his jaw told her he was just as determined as she was.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Come and get me,” she said, “if you dare.”
Now it was his turn to lift his eyebrows. “Another dare. You like to issue those out, don’t you?”
She gave him a crooked smile but said nothing. He could come all he wanted, come as close as he dared, but if he so much as touched her she had the perfect trick up her sleeve. She’d learned a special karate hold that she’d used to immobilize more than one man who thought he could take her on her dare. And she wasn’t afraid to use it on Max.
She wouldn’t hurt him, of course, just teach him a lesson, one that he would never forget – never underestimate a woman, any woman, and especially not Silken McCullen.
With a sigh that sounded like exasperation, Max rested his palms on the couch and pushed himself up then casually walked across the room toward her. “You just want me to come to you, don’t you?” he asked, shaking his head and giving her an indulgent smile. “Why do you always have to be so contrary?”
Then he was right in front of her, smiling down at her, his dark eyes glinting in the subdued light of the lamp. “Are you going to come sit with me? I’m asking nicely.”
Too nicely. Silken almost frowned. He’d issued a pseudo-threat so why didn’t he act on it? She didn’t want nice, she wanted daring so she could teach him a lesson. But she couldn’t touch him unless he touched her first.
“Would you like me to walk you over?” He lifted his hand, palm upward, waiting for her to put her hand in his.
Dang. That wouldn’t do at all. If he’d only just put a hand on her, somewhere, rest it on her shoulder, maybe, then she could grab his wrist, twist him around and have him in a chokehold that would have him passing out in seconds.
Okay, so maybe she was a show-off just dying for the chance to show him what she could do. He could at least oblige, dang it.
But he didn’t. Somehow, in some way unknown to her, he must have known what she was planning, sensed it, because his hands stayed there, so close, but never touching, waiting for her to yield.
And how could she slam a man who was being polite? She had underestimated Maximillian Davidoff. This man was like none she had ever met.
Her shoulders sagged then she let out a sigh of defeat…and she lifted her hand to rest her palm on his. When she lifted her eyes to his she saw the flash of triumph and the amused twist of his lips.
“There’s more than one way,” he whispered, “to win a battle.”
And then, before she could reply, he’d wrapped his fingers around hers and was walking her back to the sofa.
After settling her in the chair, Max popped the cork and poured a glass of champagne, only one, then held it to her lips. “Sip,” he ordered, and with the glass practically touching her mouth she had no choice. She sipped.
The bubbles burst in her mouth, startling her although she’d expected it, and she blinked. “What…” she said on a gasp, “what are we celebrating?”
Max smiled then he took a sip himself, from her glass…their glass. “Possibilities,” he said, never taking his eyes off hers. Then, still holding her mesmerized with his dark-eyed gaze, he reached his hand behind him to rest the bubbling glass on the table.
His hand now free, he lifted it to put a finger under her chin, ensuring that she could not look away. “Do you know the possibilities of which I speak?” he asked in an uber-formal voice with an amusing attempt at a European accent.
Still staring back at him, she shook her head, but only slightly. She couldn’t move much, not with his finger holding her chin captive. “No,” she whispered then licked her lips, a nervous response to his nearness.
As if he sensed her fear he moved even closer, his lips mere inches from hers. “Us,” he said softly then moved his lips closer still. “Kiss me.”
Silken’s eyes widened and she drew in a surprised breath. She was expecting his kiss, she wanted it, but why didn’t he kiss her? She didn’t want to be the one to make the move.
But he was waiting. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t done this before. So she closed her eyes, pursed her lips and pressed them to his.
It looked like that was all he’d needed, just an indication that she wanted this. As soon as their lips touched, his arms came up to draw her close and then he was kissing her with such passion that she knew he’d been wanting to do this all evening.
And she’d wanted it too, so badly. As they kissed she slid her hands up but this time she did not cling to him helplessly. This time she steadied herself with one hand then boldly slid the other inside the V of his shirt, her hand gliding over the smooth skin of his broad chest.
And then she found it, the flat nipple, which she began to stroke until it grew into a hard nub beneath her fingers.
Max groaned but she did not let up. As his kiss deepened she stepped up her assault on his senses, pinching the nipple, her gentle torture making him gasp against her lips.
But she knew it was a torture so sweet that he would only want more. Pulling her lips away from his, she lowered her head to his chest, loosening button after button as she did so until he was beautifully bare to her gaze.
Then her lips found that suffering nipple. She covered it with the softness of her lips then stroked it with the tip of her tongue, flicking and teasing until Max groaned and lay back against the arm of the sofa, giving her full access to his body.
She accepted his invitation. Tilting with him, she never let go of that nipple, but when he writhed and moaned she gave him some ease and moved her lips over to the other nipple where she administered similar treatment.
“God, Silken, you know how to drive a man crazy.” His voice, soft and hoarse, was music to her ears.
He’d thought he was the one in charge, getting her to sit with him on the sofa, ordering her to kiss him, but now he knew who really carried the big stick.
She released him then moved up his body where she calmly and boldly covered his lips with hers. He took hers like a hungry man, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth then reaching up to capture her head in his hands. Then he was tasting her, devouring her, kissing her till she was the one gasping and clinging to him.
Before she knew what was happening Max wrapped his arms around her and rolled over in the sofa, pinning her beneath him.
For a quick second she almost panicked, feeling so utterly helpless, unable to move her arms or legs. But then he lowered his head to kiss her in that sensitive spot by her collarbone and all thoughts of fighting to regain control dissolved in a pool of breathtaking sensation.
He slid his lips lower still and then he was skimming the tops of her breasts, feathering her with kisses that made her tremble all over. When his hand slipped down to rest at the top button of her blouse she sighed. And when he paused there she arched toward him, eager for his touch.
He must have been waiting for it, this indication that she wanted him, because he began to undo the buttons – one then two then three – until her lace-covered breasts lay exposed to his hungry gaze.
Sliding his hands up her torso, he reached out to cup both breasts in his big hands. Ooh, delicious. And then, as if that weren’t enough, with both thumbs he began to stroke her nipples through her bra, turning the tips into hard nubs that ached for his lips.
He must have read her mind because no sooner had she thought it than he slid the cup from her right breast and dipped his head to capture her nipple between his teeth.
A bolt of liquid fire shot through Silken’s body and she moaned. “Yes,” she whispered, "please…don’t stop.”
Max groaned in response. Sliding his hands behind her back he released the catch on her bra, freeing her breasts and then he lowered his head again, this time to slurp her left nipple deep into his mouth.
And the feel of his mouth on her, his lips clamped on her sensitive bud, his tongue sliding and stroking, was so sensual that her juices began to flow.
Feeling the dampness between her legs she gasped, wanting him so bad her mouth went dry. Oh God, what was he doing to her?
And even as he was driving her crazy with his caress the question reverberated in her mind. What was he doing to her but even more frightening, what in heaven’s name was he doing with her?
The thought sent a sliver of fear sliding up into her heart. Was this all a game to Max? Was she just someone to amuse himself with until he found a newer, more exciting toy? Because who was she fooling? The man was a goddamn billionaire and she was nothing more than a mechanic. A damn good one, and the owner of her own business, but still…way below Maximillian Davidoff’s league.
And the last thing she wanted was for this man to use her and then discard her like a worthless piece of rag. Because if he did, she would just have to kill him.
So before it got to that she’d better put a stop to this…this seduction he’d orchestrated. Because she was nobody’s patsy.
“Max, stop. I want to get up.”
At her words he froze then slowly he lifted his head to look up at her. “Now?” he asked, his eyes filled with desire and confusion.
“Yes, now.” Silken’s voice was firm and even before he moved away she was drawing her blouse together and feeling for the buttons.
Max’s brows fell in a frown but he pushed himself up and away from her then got up off the couch, his shirt still flapping loose around his bare torso. He looked like he wanted to say something but then he tightened his lips and remained silent.
She stayed silent, too, her head down as she swung her legs off the couch then deftly buttoned up her shirt and tucked the ends back into her slacks. She stood up and when she did, Max backed away as if he wanted – no, needed – to put some distance between them.
Silken lifted her face and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m going to head home now,” she said, her voice firm. “Thanks for dinner.”
CHAPTER NINE
Of all the women in the world for him to run into and begin to like, it had to be one who was certifiably insane.
At the thought of Silken Max could only shake his head. It had been almost three weeks since he’d invited her over to his house – and her sister, as she’d demanded – and then when he’d try to show her that he had feelings for her she’d shot him down cold and walked away. Just like that. Even though, from her body’s reaction to him, he knew she wanted him. Her shivers, her gasps, the dilation of her pupils – that was something you just couldn’t fake.
So what the hell happened? One second she was begging him for more and the next she was pushing him away. Chameleon through and through.
He’d thought of contacting Suave, seeing if she could explain Silken’s strange behavior, but then what would he say? I tried seducing your sister and things started out pretty good but then she went cold on me?
He gave up on that idea real fast. And he gave up on the idea of ever seeing Silken again. At least, that was what he’d told himself three weeks ago. But now…
Dammit, he was beginning to miss the little witch and he didn’t know who to be more pissed with – Silken, for setting up permanent residence in his brain or himself for being a damn fool who couldn't get a wacky woman out of his mind.
So now the question was, what was he going to do about it?
Max got up from behind his desk and walked over to the window to stare out at the grounds of the new offices of his racing division. Deep in thought, he shoved his hands into his pockets. He’d had a bellyful of Duke asking after the twins and even Reed, long after he’d arrived back in England, kept asking him to tell them hi. Each time he’d mumbled something noncommittal but the truth was, he hadn’t spoken to either one of them since their departure from his home weeks before.
Not Suave and not Silken....Silken, with her too-often knitted brows, her flashing brown eyes and permanently pouty lips…lips he was dying to taste again.
At the memory of her lips, her soft full breasts, her nipples so puckered and pink, his mouth went dry. Dang! He hadn’t seen the woman in three weeks and she still had such a hold on him that he was having a hell of a time shaking it off. If he ever did...
And he had a feeling he wouldn’t, so he might as well do that thing he’d been avoiding all this time. He'd been telling himself he was a fool to even pursue it.
As much as it went against his nature, he would swallow his pride and go and find Miss Silken McCullen.
***
“Are you nervous? I’m nervous. So darned nervous.” Suave was wringing her hands as they stood on the front steps of Doctor Pintero’s stone English Tudor home in Shorewood Hills, a prestigious neighborhood not far from the University of Wisconsin.
“Just calm down. It’s going to be all right.” Silken gave her sister's hand a little squeeze. She knew exactly what Suave was feeling right now. She was nervous, too, but she wasn’t about to let on. She needed to be strong for both of them.
By some miracle they’d finally found the contact details for the doctor who’d delivered them over two decades earlier, a doctor who was now well into his eighties and no longer practicing medicine. They’d tried calling him but only succeeded in getting his housekeeper who advised them that the doctor was very sick and was not taking calls. She’d been very abrupt and would have hung up on them but it took Suave’s tearful appeal before she would listen.
After their explanation and pleading request – they weren’t too proud to beg – the woman finally agreed to speak to the doctor on their behalf. She took their names and number and promised to call back. After two days of waiting they’d heard nothing. Silken, anxious to get things resolved, decided to call again but Suave convinced her to wait a day or two longer. On the third day they got the call. The doctor would see them but only for a short while and they should do nothing, absolutely nothing to cause him undue stress.
They promised and now here they were, on the doctor’s doorstep, waiting to find out everything he knew about their mother. He was their only hope of ever finding her.
Suave pressed the button and they heard the bell chime throughout the house and then they waited, Silken holding her breath and Suave smoothing her skirt with trembling hands.
The door opened and a tall, severe-looking woman with ash-blonde hair stood staring back at them. Silken paused, surprised. She’d expected a little woman, prob
ably one with gray hair but this woman was an Amazon, tall and strong and obviously in charge. “Mrs. Detlef?” she asked, wanting to make sure she had the right person.
At the woman’s nod, she continued. “I’m Silken McCullen and this is my sister, Suave. We called last week about speaking with the doctor.”
The woman’s jaw tightened. “I was expecting you an hour ago.”
“Please excuse us,” Suave said, the knuckles gripping her bag strap turning white. “Our flight was delayed. We just got to Wisconsin this morning.”
The woman seemed to accept that as a reasonable explanation because she nodded and opened the door wider. She stepped aside then jerked her chin toward them. “You may come in and have a seat while I speak to the doctor. He got up early today and he may be tired. I will check if he can see you.”
Even when they were seated in the dimly-lit sitting room, Suave didn’t look any more relaxed. She kept wringing the strap of her bag till the poor thing looked like it would snap from the abuse. “What if he’s asleep?” she asked in a breathless whisper. “What if they say we have to come back tomorrow? We’re already booked on the first flight out tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Silken said, trying to reassure her sister. “If we have to come back we’ll just get another ticket and head out day after tomorrow.”
“But our tickets are non-refundable. Our budget…”
“Shh. I told you, don’t worry about it. The doctor will see us. I’m sure of it.” That was what she said, but Silken wasn’t half as sure as she sounded. But she’d just leave Suave in the dark on that one.
Two minutes later Mrs. Detlef was back in the sitting room beckoning to them to follow her. “You must speak very quietly,” she said, “and don’t say anything that could upset him. He must avoid any kind of stress."
Suave nodded but then she turned worried eyes on Silken, her question obvious. How would he handle their request?
When they got to the room Mrs. Detlef opened the door quietly, waving them in, then closed it gently behind them. They were in a cozy room with colorful rugs on the floor and although the evening was warm a space heater was on, placed close to the bed which stood in the center of the room. And in the bed lay a figure, so still and white, it looked like he was dead.
