MAX WAITED FOR Grace’s ex to leave before climbing into his car and taking off. He let out a series of curses before calling Connall. He hated to do it. Hated that he was admitting defeat, but... desperate times and all that.

“Hey, Max. How did it go with Grace?” Connall asked when he answered.

“It was shite.”

“Uh-oh, what happened?”

Max filled him in on the altercation with Trey, and Grace’s reaction to Max’s defense.

“Wow,” Connall said. “You’re not kidding.”

“The fucker put his hands on her. I don’t know what the hell she expects from me.”

“I think this might be a job for Pepper,” Connall said. “She’s standing here with her hand out for some reason. Why don’t I hand you off to her?”

“Fine.”

“What happened to patience?” Pepper asked. Her ability to read her mate’s thoughts meant she didn’t need to be filled in on Max’s failure. “And before you answer that, I get that you weren’t happy about this guy touching her, but honestly, she’s not going to appreciate you going all Neanderthal on her. Cauld Ane men need to calm the hell down and let us mere women fight our own fights.”

Max frowned. “It’s not like I planned it, Pepper.”

“I know, but I’d venture a guess that what you did do, scared the living shit out of her. If you would have controlled your anger, you’d be having coffee with her right now, not trying to figure out how to fix the mess you made.”

Max hated that she was right. “All right, Mummy, I’ve been adequately scolded. Now, what the hell do I do going forward?”

“Get her siblings and/or the best friend involved,” Pepper said.

“What do mean?”

“You get her brother and sister behind you, and she’ll be more inclined to listen. They’re the real fans of the band, anyway, right?”

“Aye,” Max admitted, irritated again that Grace didn’t fall at his feet.

“Okay, then. Talk to her sister. Sisters know the best way to irritate or impress each other, so I’d start there. Unless you know her best friend. Does she have one? If she has a “Samantha” in her life, she’d be the one to talk to.”

“She did seem to be clinging to a woman’s arm when I saw her at the church, but I didn’t get the chance to meet her...or learn her name.”

“Well, then you’re stuck with her sister,” Pepper said. “But you have to do this, Max. No making Niall be your messenger.”

He bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what that means,” Pepper pointed out.

“Damn it,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, I’ve figured you out a little more than you think, mister. You may believe Niall is the nicer one, but you’re Grace’s mate. Only you will know what to say in the moment to make it right.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“Oh, I’m never wrong, and I should probably verbally slap you for even thinking that.” Pepper laughed. “But I won’t, because I still love you.”

He couldn’t stop a smile, even if she’d nailed his plan to use Niall as a buffer. “Fine. I’ll figure it out.”

“I know you will. ’Cause if you don’t...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. She’ll run.” Max shuddered. The thought of Grace not being in his life was not something he could face.

“Okay, our time is done. I’ll bill you for the session,” Pepper joked.

“Thanks, lass. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Do you want to talk to Con again?”

“No,” Max said. “He’s useless.”

Pepper giggled. “Not at everything.”

Max rolled his eyes. “I’m hanging up now.”

“‘’Bye.”

Max hung up and called his brother. He might not be able to use Niall as his own personal Cyrano, but there couldn’t be anything wrong with him helping.

* * *

The next afternoon, Grace arrived home from her interview to find the driveway packed. Great. Everyone was home. She’d hoped to escape the barrage of questions, but it would appear that wasn’t going to happen. She guided her car to the closest spot on the street and parked.

Grabbing her purse and jacket, she made her way to the door. Maybe if she sneaked inside, no one would realize she was home. The rain was falling in sheets again and the temperature had dropped at least another hundred degrees, if the goose bumps all over her body were any indication. Even though she loved the rain, all she wanted to do right now was pour a big glass of wine and take a really hot bath. Her interview had sucked. She knew she’d bombed it, and she didn’t feel like having her family fawn over her right now.

Grace also couldn’t seem to get Max off her mind. She and Charlotte had sat up talking until well past midnight, and then she hadn’t slept well, which was probably why she’d blown her interview. She was irritable and in an all-around “the world is out to get me” mood. She wanted to throw herself a pity party, table for one. She made a mad dash for the front door and pushed it open.

“Grace? Is that you?” Maggie called.

“No!” Grace called back.

Maggie giggled and came into view from the kitchen. “How was the interview?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Bummer.” Maggie shrugged. “But, you have to change. You’re going out.”

Grace hung her coat in the closet. “Um, no.”

“Um, yes.”

“Mags, please. I’ve had the crappiest day ever and I just want to take a bath and veg in front of the boob tube.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No. You. Don’t.” Maggie grasped her arms. “Trust me. You want to change into something ridiculously hot and come out with me.”

Grace frowned. “Why?”

“Because it will cheer you up.”

“I thought you were sick.”

“I’m better,” Maggie countered. “Will you just go get into that blue dress that you spent entirely too much money on and get your butt down here?”

“It’s way too cold to wear that dress!”

“Trust me. You’ll be plenty warm,” Maggie assured her.

“Why? What did you do?”

Maggie shrugged again. “You’ll see.”

Grace dropped her purse on the floor and advanced on her sister. “Please don’t tell me Trey’s convinced you to trick me into getting into a ridiculously expensive dress so we can bowl or something as inane as that.”

“No. Trey has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Then who does?”

“Grace!” she snapped. “Will you just go change?”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Maggie crossed her arms. “Why do you always have to ruin everything? Can’t I just want to do something nice for my sister without the third degree?”

Grace felt like a jerk. “Maggie, I’m not really in the mood for anything fun. Can we do it another night?”

“No. It’s all planned.”

Grace let out a frustrated squeak. “What’s all planned?”

Maggie pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head.

“Seriously?” Grace said with a sigh. “Nothing?”

Maggie shook her head again.

“Max.” Grace wagged her finger at her sister. “Max is up to something, isn’t he?”

Maggie shrugged.

“Fine. But if I hate it and I want to come home, we come home. Capish? I’ll drive.”

Maggie grinned and Grace headed upstairs to change. She refreshed her makeup, pulled her hair away from her face with a clip, and pulled on the dress that had cost her almost a week’s wages. Dark blue, it matched her eyes and complemented her fair skin. The sleeveless dress crisscrossed into a pleated V-neck, but wasn’t so deep that Grace’s ample breasts showed too much cleavage. The back of the dress was longer, falling to her calves, while the front stopped just above her knee.

She’d bought it originally for Kristen’s wedding. Kristen’s only requirement for her bridesmaids’ dresses was the color, so Grace had chosen the one that made her feel the best, and had so many compliments, she’d felt like the prettiest girl in the room next to the bride. She hadn’t had another chance to wear it, and she had to admit, she felt beautiful as she put on her matching twenty-dollar shoes.

She made her way downstairs where Maggie still stood by the front door. “You look hot, sissy.”

“Thanks,” Grace said, a little impatiently. “Now what?”

Maggie opened the door. “Now you’re gonna go with this nice man and you’re gonna be super polite.”

Grace leaned forward to see who Maggie was looking at. A large, smiling man with a chauffer’s cap and an umbrella waited on the porch. “Ma’am.”

Grace narrowed her eyes at her sister. “I thought you and I were going out.”

Maggie grinned. “I’m sick, remember?”

“Margaret Marie—” Grace cocked her head. “What is Max planning?”

Maggie “locked” her lips and dumped the key.

“For the love.” Grace rolled her eyes and shrugged into her coat. “This better not be a waste of time, or you are so gonna owe me.”

Maggie giggled again and waved her hand toward the open door. Grace stepped outside and the driver held the umbrella over her and ushered her to the Towncar. He opened the car door and waited for Grace to slide inside. She buckled her seatbelt as he made his way to the driver’s seat.

“I’m your driver for tonight, ma’am,” he said in a thick Scottish accent. “Me name’s Bruce and should you need me, you just have to ask.”

She met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “What if I want to come home?”

He turned to face her. “I’ll bring you home.”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “Even if it’s five minutes after we arrive at wherever you’re taking me?”

“Aye. I’m at your beck and call, lass. No one else’s.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Thank you.”

Bruce started the car and they headed off toward Portland. Grace couldn’t imagine what Max might have in store for her, but her heart beat just a little faster. Once they crossed over the Morrison Bridge and headed north up Fourth, she had an inkling where they were headed. Sure enough, Bruce took a left on Pine and drove straight into the underground parking.

Grace’s absolute favorite restaurant in the world was located atop this high-rise building, but it was one reserved for special occasions due to the price. She wished she’d worn a looser-fitting dress now, knowing her tendency to overeat when she was here.

The car came to a stop and another man opened her door. Bruce turned and handed her a card. “Remember. I’m yours for the night. If you want to leave, just call me.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Grace took the card and dropped it in her purse.

The man standing by the door held his hand out to her, so she took it, slid from the car, and followed him to the elevator bay. As they rode the elevator to the thirtieth floor, Grace tried to calm her stomach. Before she had much time to dwell on her nervousness, the doors opened and the anonymous man led her to the entrance of the restaurant. A woman took her coat and handed her a ticket and then, instead of turning left to head into the restaurant, Grace was guided to the right, to one of the private rooms.

Max stood outside a large door and his face lit up when he saw her. “You look stunning, lass.”

“Thank you. You look nice, too.” That was an understatement. He wore black pants that enhanced his long legs, and a white shirt, open at the throat, with a fitted black jacket. His dark hair was swept away from his face and he’d shaved. She was so used to seeing him with some form of beard or stubble, the sight of his smooth face made her want to run her fingers along his jaw. She flexed her hand to keep from doing just that.

“Thank you for coming.” He leaned down to gently kiss her cheek and she couldn’t help but close her eyes and draw in his scent. Masculine and clean, the man was irresistible.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I have no idea.”

Max chuckled and pulled open the door, resting his hand on her lower back and gently pushing her through the portal. Grace gasped in disbelief.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Um. I’m a little stunned, actually. It’s amazing.”

The room had been transformed into something she’d imagine might be seen in Paris, including a backdrop of the Eiffel Tower and a night sky, complete with twinkling stars.

She let out a hum of appreciation. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“You did? From who?” She held up her hand. “No, don’t answer that. Maggie.”

He grinned and nodded.

“How did you do this?” she asked as she spun in a circle, taking in the room. “Especially on such short notice. It’s beautiful.”

“I can’t give away all my secrets.” He waved to a table in the middle of the room. “Come. Sit.”

“Do we have the room to ourselves?” she asked as she took her seat.

“Aye.” Max sat across from her and raised the wine bottle in question.

“Oh, yes, please,” she said.

He poured the expensive merlot into her glass and then did the same for himself. “How was your interview?”

He’d remembered.

“Honestly?” Grace frowned. “Awful.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Yes. Really.”

“I’m sorry, lass,” he said. “What are you looking for?”

“Well, I was an executive assistant. Unfortunately, the administrative staff is always the first to go when there are lay-offs, and I was one of six who lost their jobs. I’d like to find something in accounting, because I love numbers.” She sipped her wine. “But...now, I’m one of hundreds applying for the same four jobs.”

“I hear it’s difficult here.”

Grace shrugged. “It is what it is. Anyway, can we please not talk about my utter and complete failure to find gainful employment? I’d rather pretend I’m in Paris.”

Max chuckled. “Fair enough.”

She laid her napkin across her lap. “I never thanked you for showing Spencer and Maggie such a good time the other night. It was very sweet of you to treat them so well.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Max smiled and Grace felt heat crawl up her neck. He was gorgeous and charming and gorgeous. She sighed silently. He was too much. Just too much of...everything. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like for the band on concert nights. The stage, the show, the pomp.”

Max shrugged. “I’d guess it’s a bit like when you sang at the church.”

“I highly doubt that,” Grace said. “We don’t have our own roadies.”

“I suppose you have a point.” He sipped his wine. “You have a lovely voice, Grace. I enjoyed hearing you sing.”

“Thank you. I love to sing, but I’m not sure I could do it in front of so many people. And all that attention on you. How do you know who’s sincere?” Grace shuddered. “Not to mention the media. I couldn’t imagine my privacy constantly being invaded.”

“Yes, all of it’s overwhelming at times.” Max chuckled. “But you get used to it and find places to escape to. Like my home. It’s a refuge for me.”

“Where is your home?”

“Inverness. I have two hundred acres, a hundred of which is forest.”

“I bet it’s beautiful.”

“Aye,” he said. “It’s lovely.”

“How often do you tour?” she asked. “You must hate to leave your home.”

“We tour internationally three to four months every three years or so. We’ll generally play one show a year in Scotland and lay low for the rest of the time.”

“Is it true you haven’t done anything here for ten years?”

“Aye.”

“Why did you cancel the Seattle show?” she asked.

“You.”

Grace choked on her wine. “What?”

Max handed her his napkin and squeezed her hand. “I needed time to find you.”

“You did not.”

“I did, lass. After meeting you in Scotland, I knew I had to find you.”

Grace shook her head. “Why doesn’t that alarm me?”

“Because you feel what I feel, love. Perhaps on a smaller scale than I do, but you still recognize the connection.”

“Okay, okay, Max. I’ll concede you’re charming...no need to go overboard.”

“I’m serious.” He smiled. “And I have to admit, I was disappointed you weren’t at the concert. I would have rather spent time with you than anyone else.”

Grace couldn’t stop a snort. “Oh, I’ll bet.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“A thousand gorgeous women throwing themselves at you must be a nightmare,” she droned, sarcastically.

He raised an eyebrow. “I’d much rather you were the one throwing yourself at me, love.”

“Keep dreaming, buddy,” she retorted.

Max grinned. “I most definitely will.”

Grace felt her cheeks heat up again as she tried to think of something witty to say. She was saved by two servers wheeling in carts filled with food.

“I thought we might taste the entire menu,” Max said. “I always like to try a little of everything when I’m visiting a new place.” He smiled again and then added, “Is that all right with you?”

“It’s perfect,” she said. And wickedly expensive.

“What would you like to start with?” one of the servers asked.

Grace stared at the plates. “Everything looks amazing. What do you suggest?”

The server smiled at her. “I’d start with the crab cakes.”

“Oh, yes,” Grace agreed. “I love those.”

“Very good.” The man set the crab cakes in front of them and waited.

Max stared at the server, as though he couldn’t understand why he was still standing there. Finally, he said, “We can take it from here.”

Grace was mortified by Max’s rude dismissal.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Grace rushed to say.

The server smiled. “My pleasure. My name’s John, should you require anything further. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

“Thanks, John,” Grace said.

The man left and Grace frowned at Max, miffed by his dismissal of the man. Max seemed unaware that he’d done anything wrong, and lifted the plate containing the crab cakes. “How many would you like?”

“One, please,” she said, her tone clipped.

“Is something wrong?”

“Seriously?” she snapped.

His face fell. “What?”

“Max, you dismissed that man as though he were a nuisance. He’s not a servant.”

“Is he not here to serve us?”

“There’s a difference between his job as our server and you treating him as though he’s your personal servant. He was trying to help and you acted as though he was an irritation.”

Max set the plate aside and cocked his head.

“You don’t see it, do you?” she observed.

He sighed. “No.”

Grace didn’t know what to say. He appeared genuinely confused by what she’d said and she wasn’t sure how to make him understand.

“I’m sorry, Max,” she said with a sigh. “I’m tired and a little out of sorts, and I’m sounding like a shrew. I really don’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s all right, lass. You’re probably right.” He smiled. “I will try to...ah...not seem irritated.”

She couldn’t help but smile. His expression was one of an errant child who wanted to behave, but didn’t really know what he’d done wrong. “Try the crab cakes,” she said.

He grinned and took a bite. “They’re quite remarkable.”

“They’re one of my favorites.”

Conversation halted as they tasted a little off every appetizer plate. By the time John and his partner returned, Grace wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat anything else.

“Would you like me to box any of this up?” John asked.

“Yes, please,” Grace said.

“No,” Max said at the same time. He smiled. “Sorry. Yes, please, if it’s no trouble.”

John nodded. “No trouble.”

While the servers cleared away the dishes, John poured more wine and then left when Max ordered another bottle of wine.

“How was that?” Max asked.

“How was what?”

“I said ‘sorry’ and ‘please’ in one sentence.” He grimaced. “Was that acceptable?”

Grace laughed. “You look like you just swallowed vinegar.”

“Do I?” Max gave her the most adorable sideways smile.

“Are ‘sorry’ and ‘please’ both so alien to you?”

“I wouldn’t say alien, no. But, admittedly, you’re not the only one who’s said I need to work on my bedside manner.”

Grace smiled. “And do you listen to those others?”

“Not as much as I probably should,” he said.

John and his co-server returned with more trolleys filled with a ridiculous amount of food. John filled their water glasses, which gave Grace time to take stock of what was on the trolleys.

She smiled. “We can’t eat all of this, Max.”

“We can try.”

“Shall I pour?” John asked once Max had approved the new bottle of wine.

Max gave a curt nod. Grace raised an eyebrow and he widened his eyes and then smiled. “Yes. Please pour. Thank you.”

John poured them each a glass of wine and left them alone again.

Max reached over and took Grace’s hand. “What’s troubling you, lass? I feel your stress. And don’t tell me it’s about the job...something else is going on.”

She sighed. “It’s you, Max.”

“I guessed that,” he said with a gentle smile. “Tell me.”

“You frighten me.”

“Why?”

Grace stared at his hand covering hers. His touch made her feel safe. Bold. “Because I’m drawn to you and I don’t know why. We have nothing in common and I can’t figure out if I’m reacting to your persona or something deeper.”

“It’s deeper.”

She met his eyes. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s not something I can explain just yet. I think we need to get to know each other better first.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.” She tried to move her hand, but he held firm.

“If I stop touching you, you’ll clam up,” he explained.

“That’s kind of what I was hoping for.”

He chuckled. “Let’s talk, Grace. Really talk. I know you’re frightened, but I won’t hurt you.”

“Why do I know that?”

“Because what we’re feeling is deeper than either of us could fathom.” Max stood, still holding her hand, and pulled her up next to him. “Give us a little time, love. All will become clear.”

He wrapped his arm around her and she expected him to kiss her, but instead he pulled her into an intimate dance. Classical music was quietly playing in the background. How had she not noticed that before?

“Þú verður mín að eilífu,” he whispered.

A shiver stole up Grace’s spine and she slid her fingers into his hair. “What does that mean?”

“It’s an old Icelandic promise. I’ll tell you what it means soon enough.”

“You speak Icelandic?”

“A little,” he said evasively.

Grace closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept up in his embrace. She couldn’t understand why it felt so right to be in his arms. It didn’t make sense.

“Stop thinking, love,” he whispered. “Just feel.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Funny, my daddy always said to do the opposite when it came to boys.”

“Probably smart advice.” He chuckled, low and quiet in his chest. “It’s a good thing I haven’t been a boy for a very, very long time.”

Grace settled her cheek against his shoulder, allowing the comfort of his touch to sink in. She felt like she was home. How she felt at ease with a man she’d just met didn’t make sense.

“Shhh, love,” he whispered. “Stop thinking so much.”

How does he know?

He chuckled again. “Your body stiffens when you try to reason this out.”

She leaned back with a frown. “Are you reading my mind, or are you just that intuitive?”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m most definitely reading your mind.”

Grace couldn’t stop a giggle. “Okay, Carnac the Magnificent.”

Max pulled her close again, running his fingers through her hair. “You have the most beautiful hair.”

“I do?” she whispered.

“Aye.” He smiled. “I’m so glad shaving it was ruled out.”

She giggled again. “Yes, the toe fungus magically dried up as well.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He stroked her back, pulling her closer.

Grace squeezed her eyes shut briefly before forcing herself to think rather than feel. With a determination that defied her heart, she put distance between them and laid her hand over her chest in an effort to calm her breathing. “Max, I can’t. This is too much.”

“I’m sorry, love.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’m rushing you.”

“Yes. A bit.”

He scowled, but Grace realized it wasn’t directed at her when he answered his phone. “What, Fergus? Damn it! Aye.” He glanced at Grace. “Yes, now. No, I’ll ride with her.” He hung up and sighed. “We have a small problem and we need to leave.”