“I don’t have a girlfriend, and there are times when I want sex. Rather than pick up a woman in a bar and risk disappointing someone who is looking for more, paying someone is more honorable. I’m not forced to pretend emotions I don’t have. Both parties get what they want and there are no misunderstandings.”
“And is it worth the money?”
“Usually it is.”
“How much does it cost?”
“One thousand dollars was the most I had ever paid, until six months ago, when I paid five thousand dollars for one night with a girl.”
“And was it worth the money?” she asked in a low murmur.
“Every single penny,” Max replied.
He didn’t dare to look at her. The sensations that rattled inside him were like pebbles caught in the rim of a car tire, annoying but impossible to get rid of. Each time he saw Elena, she gained a little more power over him. He didn’t want her to know that she mattered to him, that she possessed the means to pierce his gruff armor, but he couldn’t help giving her a hint of her importance by measuring his interest in her in terms of cold, hard cash.
“Thank you,” Elena said in a soft whisper. “I take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one,” Max said. He didn’t know how to expand on his comment, so he chose to keep silent. When they reached the hotel, he pulled into the parking lot. Before he had a chance to get out of the car, Elena had flung the passenger door open and bolted out.
“Thanks for the ride,” she called out, with a fleeting glance back at him as she rushed up to the canopied entrance.
Max watched her go. His instincts told him that her prickly mood earlier had contained at least a tiny shred of jealousy. He didn’t know how to go about getting her attention, breaking through her resistance, so he followed another one of his tired and trusted methods: If something works, do more of the same. Make her jealous.
Chapter Five
Swept along. That’s how Elena felt. As if she were a careless swimmer, and Max Glaser a riptide that had caught hold of her and was inexorably pulling her toward the deep waters where she would flounder. If—when—she lost the battle of wills between them and gave in to the attraction, she would end up bashed against the rocks of rejection and loneliness.
Elena sat in her small, cluttered office, trying to work, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything. When the telephone call from Joe Vanstone setting up the next trip came, relief eased her raw nerves. Worrying about something seemed to take a greater emotional toll than actually facing the situation, living through it and facing the consequences.
She flew out to a small town west of Denver. In different circumstances, she would have enjoyed the ride in the rental car through the mountain scenery with trees aflame in fall colors, but now she just wanted the minutes to pass until Max would arrive.
While she negotiated a lease for the premises Joe had located, the constant tension that seethed within her took a toll on her behavior. Like a coil wound too tight, her reactions became quick and volatile. Any small obstacle made her bristle with frustration.
Joe noticed her agitation but didn’t probe about the cause.
Perhaps he knew.
When they drove to the airport on Wednesday evening to pick up Max, anticipation soared inside Elena. She’d never felt so alive, so full of excitement. In her conscious mind, she hadn’t yet accepted the decision throw herself into an affair with Max, but in her subconscious mind she knew that she no longer had the willpower to resist him.
Her heart gave a single hard thump when she spotted Max approaching along the airport concourse. All other men seemed insignificant compared to him. Not just his strength and size, but the steely determination etched across his stern features.
But then her lungs ceased to function and a chilled numbness settled over her. For he didn’t arrive alone. “This is Vanessa,” he said, indicating the ravishing brunette who came to a halt beside him. Dressed in an immaculate beige linen trouser suit, she looked like a woman who never carried her own suitcase.
Elena flinched, as if a fist had slammed into her gut. She managed to mutter a polite greeting. The girl observed her with an amused expression in her warm brown eyes. Smooth and cool, her slender fingers curled around Elena’s hand.
“Pleased to meet you,” Vanessa said. “Max has told me about you.”
Hot flags of embarrassment flooded to Elena’s cheeks as she fought for control. Told her what about her? She was a fool. An instant ago, she’d coasted on a thrill of surrender, imagining herself in Max Glaser’s arms. Deep down, she’d accepted that she had stopped fighting to resist him and would open her heart to him, even at the risk of getting hurt.
Well, no need to wait, she told herself, the wry tone of irony ringing inside her head. Skip the torrid affair. Go straight to the rejection and hurt.
In the rental car, Joe was driving, and from the front passenger seat Elena couldn’t crane her neck far enough to use the rearview mirror to observe Max and Vanessa at the back. When they joined the freeway, the engine noise dulled, and she could hear Max talking to the girl. The warm and caring tone in his voice made her whole body tighten with jealousy.
So what, she told herself. Max Glaser was a harsh, overbearing, blunt and bad tempered oaf. She ought to thank Vanessa for saving her from her own foolishness. What a mistake it would have been to enter into an affair with Max. It was a lucky escape.
But he is also intelligent, fair, and hardworking, a small voice argued in her head. There are hidden reservoirs of tenderness and passion inside him and a vulnerable streak that hints at some tragic secret in his past.
Elena gave an angry shake of her head to silence those inner voices. Max Glazer had snuck past her defenses, but he saw her as nothing other than an expensive hooker or a cut-price lawyer. She would find a way to clear him out of her head. After she finished working for Max, she would never think of him again.
At the hotel, a big, sprawling timber lodge that evoked memories of pioneer times. Max upgraded his reservation to a two-bedroom suite and informed Elena and Joe that they would meet for dinner at eight instead of seven. Afterward, they would go to a nightclub and needed to dress accordingly.
Elena hurried to her room and stared in dismay at the few items of clothing she had with her. She hadn’t brought eveningwear, only jeans for inspecting the stores, smart casual for dinner, and a business suit for meetings. There was no time to go shopping, and even if there had been, she was too broke to waste money on clothes she didn’t really need.
Vanessa will be perfectly dressed, the voice in her head taunted.
Instinct told Elena that Max wouldn’t allow her to stay behind, so she settled on her smart casual outfit, with an improvised a top. The trousers were black, low-slung with flared legs, and the matching jacket hung straight and simple past her hips. She took out the beige camisole top that she usually wore under her white silk blouse, and cut off the hem. Using the little sewing kit she found in the desk drawer, she turned the edge by hand and made a flimsy cropped top.
Standing in front of the mirror, Elena inspected the results. She felt exposed without a bra, and she twisted and turned her shoulders to make sure the lace-trimmed bodice of the camisole covered her breasts while she moved.
Provided she kept her back straight and remembered not to bend forward, she’d be fine. To be on the safe side, she planned to keep her jacket on in the restaurant and only take it off at the nightclub, where the lights would be too low to see much anyway.
Downstairs, others stood waiting when she got to the lobby.
“You forgot to dress up,” Max said, and pointed at Vanessa, exquisite in a little black dress that must have cost more than Elena made in a month—a good month.
“Sorry,” Elena replied with a terse smile. “I’m traveling light. This is the best I could manage.” She flicked the front of her jacket open to display her makeshift top.
“Looks good to me,” Joe said gallantly.
/> Max offered no comment. Vanessa smiled a polite smile.
They all crammed into a taxi. Elena sat next to Vanessa at the back, with Max on Vanessa’s other side. Joe took the seat beside the driver. Depression enveloped Elena like a cloud, mingling with the expensive scent of Vanessa’s perfume. She felt like Cinderella being forced to attend the ball when she would have rather stayed at home scrubbing floors.
Upon arrival at Maison de Folie, described by the hotel concierge as the best restaurant in town, Elena watched Max hold Vanessa’s hand as they walked through the entrance. Misery throbbed in every beat of her heart. Where in my job description does it state that I need to watch my boss taking out his girlfriend? Tears stung in her eyes, and she blinked hard to keep them at bay.
As soon as they had ordered pre-dinner drinks, Joe got a telephone call. He went outside and asked that Max to join him. Not wanting to appear petty or rude, Elena made a valiant effort to engage in small talk with Vanessa.
“How long have you known Max?” she asked, leaning over the table.
“Twenty years,” Vanessa replied.
“Heavens, I didn’t realize. Did you grow up together?”
“You’re flattering me,” Vanessa said. “Max worked for my father, who had a habit of bringing his work home. I must have been fifteen and Max was around twenty when we first met.”
Elena felt another twinge of jealousy. Not just over Max, but for all girls who grew up with doting fathers in affluent homes.
The arrival of the waiter distracted them, creating a moment of silence. After he’d finished uncorking the bottle of red wine and filled their glasses, Vanessa turned to Elena. “I hear you’re a lawyer, and that you’ve recently set up your own practice. How is it going?”
“Slow and uncertain,” Elena replied with a wry grimace. “The job with Max has helped a lot. He is my biggest client.” She took a sip from her wine glass, letting the smooth flavor roll over her tongue before she returned her attention to Vanessa. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m an orthopedic surgeon. I’m a partner in a practice in Miami. I moved down after I completed my residency in New York.”
“A doctor,” Elena stammered. “I thought you were a model, or an actress.”
“Now you are flattering me.” Vanessa slanted an amused glance across the table. “No, I’m a doctor. It was the only way I could avoid the family construction business. My father insisted that I either work for him or find some more worthwhile occupation. Medicine was just about the only field that qualified.”
Max and Joe returned, interrupting the conversation. Max planted a quick kiss on Vanessa’s cheek, resting his hand on her bare shoulder as he leaned down. “Sorry,” he said. “I promise that’s it for business tonight. I hope Elena kept you entertained.”
“We entertained each other,” Vanessa replied with an enigmatic smile.
Like always, alcohol had an instant effect on Elena. By the time the waiter appeared with a third bottle, anger and jealousy and the trace of envy inside her had coalesced into a belligerent mood. Over dinner, Max was more animated than she had even seen him before, and Vanessa radiated a polite, cultured charm. Elena provided the only sour note, with Joe occasionally attempting to cover up her prickly remarks.
When they set off from the restaurant to the nightclub, Joe escorted Elena to the taxi, holding her back from the others. “Is something wrong?” he asked her in a low voice. “Take it easy on the booze, will you. This isn’t the time to get plastered. And there’s no need to keep tearing into Max like that. If you have a problem with the boss, deal with it in the office, not when he’s entertaining guests.”
“Guests,” Elena muttered. “If you mean Vanessa, he doesn’t need our help to entertain her. You and I have been ordered to provide an audience. God only knows why. Perhaps it will turn out to be as awful as last time.”
“What are you talking about?” Joe said with a frown. “What do you mean, last time?”
Even in her inebriated state, Elena realized not to launch into a story about Max and the noisy hooker. She waved Joe’s question away with an unsteady hand and inhaled a deep breath of the crisp night air before getting into the taxi.
By the time they sat down in a horseshoe-shaped booth in the dimly lit nightclub, her head felt clearer. She switched to club soda, not sure if the others noticed her change of pace. Loud music pounded from the speakers, and the scantily clad waitress had to bend close to take her order.
Max was sitting opposite Elena, his arm casually draped on the back of the leather banquette seat behind Vanessa. Every now and then, he leaned over to speak to Vanessa, his lips almost grazing her ear. Elena turned to Joe and tried to maintain a conversation over the cacophony of sounds. If she didn’t find a way of distracting herself, she’d just sit there, staring at the pair of them, and eventually she might burst into tears.
To her relief, Max and Vanessa got up and squeezed into the wall of couples on the cramped dance floor. For a few merciful minutes, she wouldn’t have to sit facing them. Joe turned to her and pointed toward the floor. Elena nodded with relief and got up to join him
Joe turned out to be a surprisingly good dancer. He held her at a respectful distance, occasionally bending down to shout some observation into her ear. When they returned to the table, a tall man with thinning blond hair walked over from the bar and asked her to dance.
The trouble started almost as soon as they entered the floor. At first Elena thought the man was simply too drunk to hold his head up. It wasn’t until she felt a warm drop of saliva falling on her skin that she realized he was ogling her breasts inside the skimpy top. Then he began to take awkward turns. He pulled and twisted her shoulders, so that the top served for no other purpose but to create a tantalizing peep show.
“I’m tired. Please, I’d like to sit down,” she yelled over the music.
The man replied with a knowing leer and refused to release her. Elena tried to pull away, but he caught her in a tight grip, hauling her against him. She either had to tolerate his behavior or make a scene. Just when she was about to start struggling to break loose, Max appeared by her side. Elena craned to look over his shoulder and saw Vanessa slipping away between the dancing couples.
Max curled his fingers over the arm of her tormentor. “Do you mind if I cut in?”
The man looked at Max, took in his size and strength. “Sure, buddy,” he said placidly and released Elena and stepped out of the way. “Good show, sweetheart.” He gave her a sleazy wink as he walked past.
Before Elena had a chance to gather her thoughts, Max had taken the man’s place in front of her. Without any conscious thought, her hands settled on his broad shoulders. He pulled her close, so close that their bodies connected their entire length. She lowered her head into the crook of his neck. He stroked the exposed skin at the small of her back with his fingertips, sending shockwaves through her nerves.
The music soared in her ears and filled the room. Her feet moved on the floor, but how, she couldn’t be sure. They certainly didn’t seem to be connected to the rest of her. She felt she was floating, kept from rising up to the ceiling by the magnetic current that locked her against Max. He started to hum softly to the music. He had a good voice, but what fascinated Elena the most was the way she could feel the resonance of the sound in his chest where their bodies pressed together.
He interrupted his humming to speak. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Thank you for coming to my rescue. It was awful. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Can’t really blame the poor man,” Max said with a nonchalant shrug. ‘You were dangling an open invitation in front of him. It wouldn’t have happened if you had covered yourself up a bit more.”
“My outfit didn’t seem to bother you earlier.”
“Why would it bother me?” Max said with a taunting edge to his tone. “I have not only seen it all before, I’ve had my hands and mouth all over it. Hard to regard it as some kind of a forbidden
fruit.”
Without pausing to think, Elena pulled her arm back and snapped it forward, until the flat of her palm met Max’s cheek with a resounding crack. The blow was hard enough to knock his head sideways, but the rest of him didn’t even flinch. He reached down to grab her wrists. Pinning her arms behind her back, he held her tight, still dancing, almost lifting her feet off the floor as he crushed her body against his.
“Let me go,” Elena cried and tried to wriggle loose.
“I’ll let you go when the music stops and not a second before. You need to learn some manners. I rescue you from that lecher, and you pay me back with a slap.”
They danced on, welded to each other, until the last chord faded. Max released her and stepped back. He gave her a mocking bow. Elena turned and ran, past their table and up the stairs, colliding into people along the way.
Outside, she gulped in the chilled air, like a drowning man breaking through the surface. Fury burned in her gut. She wasn’t even sure what was pushing her so close to the edge. That creep making a spectacle of her, Max poking fun at her, Vanessa just being there and being everything she was, or Joe merely standing by and allowing it all to unravel.
Or herself.
She hated the way her pulse had spiked out of control when Max clasped her tight against him on the dance floor. Just like in that crazy dream she’d had after she’d been to the gym, her safe boat of isolation was rocking, and she was perilously close to being thrown into the water where she would be on the mercy of the shark. The predator only had to wait patiently, the rest of it she was doing herself, and the thought of being just another conquest to Max Glazer wrought of sob of anger and distress from her.
Reckless Encounter Page 8
