On Friday, Mia was driven to work by Keith, as always, but when she opened the car door, his hand snapped out and grabbed her wrist before she could climb out. She stilled, praying she didn’t give anything away as she settled back into her seat. He caressed her cheek with his fingers before pinching her chin and turned her sharply to face him.

“Tonight, we have something very important to discuss when you get home,” he informed her. He moved closer and sniffed her hair, sighing in her ear as his other hand slipped to her thigh, squeezing hard as he moved higher.

“Keith, I can’t be late to open,” she tried to say happily, though she cringed on the inside, screaming for him to stop. “Please.”

His hand inched higher but stopped just short of palming her completely under her skirt. “You can’t expect me to keep my hands to myself if you wear skirts.”

“I thought you liked me in skirts,” she purred, feeling sleazy.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and she winced. “I’d like you if you let me rip it off you and bend you over like a normal woman. But you… you have to make things difficult, make me suffer. You enjoy it, don’t you? Watching me walk around, craving you and unable to have you.”

“That’s not it. I told you, I want to wait until we’re married.” Just let me get out of the car… please, let me get out of the car.

“I know, but I’m wondering if your purity is even worth it. What’s the difference? You’re going to be with me anyway.” His gaze raked over her body from her lips to her breasts, then to his hand lifting her skirt to expose her black panties. His jaw tensed and the muscles strained in his neck. “You’re missing out on so much, Mia.”

“I said I want to wait,” she snapped and immediately shrank back from the rage on his face.

“Are you smart-mouthing me?”

“No, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

His hand squeezed her thigh painfully before he let go and yanked her skirt back down. “Get out of my car,” he growled and removed his hand from her hair. “Tonight, we’re going to talk about that mouth of yours and how every time you use it like that, you’re going to be using it for something more worthwhile later. Got it?”

Her eyes widened and her hands shook in her lap. “I’m not comfortable with that yet.”

“Did I say I was giving you an option? Don’t I do enough for you? And all you do is take from me,” he grunted. “All you do is use me without me getting anything in return.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Speak up, woman.”

“I said I’m sorry you feel that way,” she emphasized. “I’ll… I’ll do better.”

His gaze penetrated her, and she held her breath, waiting for him to say he knew exactly what she was up to. “Good, that’s what I like to hear. Now, get inside before you’re late. Can’t have you being so irresponsible.”

She nodded stiffly and fumbled with the door handle. He laughed darkly behind her, and she fought back the tears of hate in her eyes, stepped out, and dug her keys out her purse. He sped away from the curb, and she sagged with relief against the glass doors, catching her breath. Standing there, she could still feel his hand on her leg and the threat in his eyes. He was going to take what he wanted, no matter what she said, unless she got out.

“Just a few hours,” she whispered to herself as she unlocked the main library doors and flipped on the lights. “You just have to last a few hours more.”

She immediately threw herself into her work. There was no luggage for her to take with her on the run, nothing except the clothes on her back. Gina promised to have a small duffel of essentials to get her through, but everything else she owned—the few photos of her parents, her books, her sketchbook and journals—they were at the house. It saddened her to leave them behind, but objects were not worth the risk of being caught. Her eyes darted to the clock when it hit ten and she ticked off another hour in her mind.

* * *

“You can’t hide in your office forever,” Jeremy announced as he stepped into the room. “And when did you turn into a vampire, man? Open the damn blinds before you get any paler than you already are.”

The blinds shot up, letting in the bright sunlight not seen too often this time of year in Seattle. Fall had settled in and it was cold, cold enough that Max almost didn’t leave the house. Except the phone wouldn’t stop ringing, and by the tenth voicemail from his mother, he was ready to toss the machine out the window. His calls were filtered by his assistant, the man currently trying to ruin what had started to turn into a better morning.

“You’re fired,” he grumbled from the couch, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“You know you fire me about once a month, right?” Jeremy asked rhetorically and yanked up the last set of blinds, flooding the couch in sunlight. “Huh, that’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“I could’ve sworn you were going to catch fire. My mistake.”

Max lifted his arm long enough to squint through the light and glare at him before settling back against the couch. “Go away.”

“Hungover, are we? Did you sleep here last night?” he asked as he stomped around the room and let out a high-pitched whistle. “And you brought a date here.”

“I wasn’t here last night,” he argued and sat up, grimacing at the throbbing in his temples.

“This thong says you were here sometime last night… unless there’s something you want to talk to me about.”

Max grunted as a vague memory of a face surrounded by bleached blonde hair filled his mind, and he rubbed his tired face. “We started here… I think, or at the bar. Wound up here and then… shit.”

Jeremy shot the thong at him as he laughed. “That’s rich. Did you leave an unconscious woman alone at your house again?” He opened his mouth to deny it, but shut it again and frowned. “Would you like me to go check to save yourself the embarrassment?”

“One of these days, I’m going to owe you for covering my ass all these times.” Max stood, his six-and-a-half-foot frame with broad chest and shoulders to match casting a shadow over his office. He stretched his arms over his head and let out a loud growl of a yawn before mussing his hair and stalking towards his desk. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Not much. Your casinos are well-oiled machines,” Jeremy informed him.

Max tapped a key and logged into his desktop. He checked the numbers from the day before, satisfied to see them still on the rise as the cold settled in. His dad had opened two casinos nearly thirty years earlier in Washington, and they had taken off. When he retired, Max took over and expanded the business southward through Oregon and California. He’d tripled his family’s wealth in a little over five years and now, all he wanted to do was sit back and enjoy it.

“Your parents will be back in town by the end of the month.”

Max’s elbow slipped off the desk and he nearly smoked his head on the glass. “What?”

“Their six-month trip is nearly over. They’ve seen the world and they’re coming back. I hope you have the wife you promised to show off…” Jeremy trailed off as he shuffled through stacks of outgoing papers from Max’s desk.

Max didn’t want to believe it, but he pulled his calendar up and several expletives followed that made even his friend of ten years blush. “Why the hell did I tell her I found a wife?”

“You were drunk that night,” Jeremy smirked. “Drunk and pissed because she wouldn’t leave you alone, so you came up with the idea that you found the love of your life, married her, bedded her, and have been happily married for the last two months.”

He hung his head. “And you didn’t stop me from doing that because?”

“You don’t pay me enough.”

Max glared at him. “Jackass.”

“Most days, but when I work for the biggest s.o.b. in Seattle, it’s to be expected.”

“Want to dress in drag for a week and be my wife?” Max offered, giving Jeremy his best smile.

“Oh, honey, you couldn’t afford me for a week,” Jeremy replied, batting his eyes and sticking out his nonexistent chest. “I’m sure you can pick up any woman who would agree to play Mrs. Maxwell Ward for a week—or longer. You do know they live in this state, right?”

Max held his head, wishing the throbbing would go away, but it only grew worse. “Yeah, I remember. Thanks for that.”

“Just being helpful. Besides, you have a handsome mug. Go out later and find someone.”

“Handsome, right,” he grumbled. Max’s gaze shifted to his reflection in the glass top of his desk and traced the deep scar running from below his eye to the corner of his jaw. He’d been in a car accident when he was younger and hated the scar. Before, he had been handsome, a charmer, but he saw the way people stared at it, how women noticed it before anything else about him. And he was far from stupid. Most women slept with him because of his wealth, hoping he would spoil them for a time.

Too bad none of them realized he wasn’t in the market for anything permanent. He’d had that once, a long time ago, but she had turned out to be a shallow and rotten liar. He was going to enjoy his life of romping around without being tied down.

“You really think I could what, hire someone?” he asked Jeremy as he headed for the door.

“You could always get a mail order bride.”

Max shook his head vehemently. “I think I’ll avoid that mess, thanks.”

“Then go out tonight, pick up a woman from the bar, and come to some sort of long-term arrangement. You could always get a divorce down the road.”

“And have the whole problem start all over again?” He clasped his hands over his middle as he leaned back in his chair. “Mom’s expecting grandchildren, you know.”

Jeremy cringed. “Can’t help you there, sorry, buddy.”

“Will you go with me tonight?”

“To hunt down a woman crazy enough to go through with this plan?” Jeremy’s grin stretched across his face as he giggled like a kid. “Oh, goodie. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Max seethed in his chair and told Jeremy to be ready for seven. “And for the love you hold so dear for me, do not be a damn embarrassment.”

“Hey, I’m not the one shopping for a wife.” Jeremy stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Shopping for a wife. Max glared at the ceiling, wondering what mess he’d just gotten himself into. No woman was going to agree to act like his doting wife for an indefinite period of time. He’d go broke before he ever produced a kid. He picked up his cell and scrolled through the list of women he knew, but the idea of spending more than one night with any of them twisted his gut. He needed someone whom he could trust not to make his life miserable. Who wouldn’t expect him to be faithful or love her. Max didn’t do love. The word was not anywhere in his vocabulary and never would be. He was not going to be tied down to one woman for the rest of his life either, no way in hell.

Max glanced at the clock and tilted his neck to crack it. A few more hours and he would go out with Jeremy and pick up some hottie from the local pub. If he couldn’t convince her to marry him, he could at least get a night of pleasure out of this nightmare.

His phone rang again and he cursed at the number. “Max, might want to answer it,” Jeremy said through the speaker. “She’s called four times already.”

“Yeah, which line?”

“One, and tell her I said hi!”

Max mimicked him before he picked up the phone and pressed the button for line one. “Hey, Mom, how’s the trip going?’

“Do you know how worried I’ve been?” She sighed and muttered under her breath. “What did I do to deserve a daughter who runs off to Australia and a son who refuses to answer the phone when I call? What did I do?”

“You don’t have to be so dramatic,” he replied, rubbing his forehead as the pounding in his head grew even worse. “I had a rough morning.”

“Well, I’m so sorry to hear that, but we’ll be returning on Monday and I want to make sure we have dinner planned for the grand introduction.”

Max choked. “Monday? I thought you wouldn’t be back for another few weeks?”

“We thought we would head home early. I can’t wait to meet her!”

“Yeah… yeah, you’re going to love her,” he said and considered bashing his head against the desk.

“You haven’t even told us her name.”

Max fiddled with the mousepad on his desk. “Well, I want you to wait until you meet her face to face. I think it’d be better that way—more of a surprise.”

“If you say so, but your father and I would like to talk to you about having a more elaborate wedding once we’re settled. Something for the society pages to swoon over. I’m sure your wife would enjoy that as well instead of this eloping nonsense,” she sputtered.

“Sure, Mom, whatever you think is best. I have to go—meetings. We’ll make plans for Monday.”

“Fine, go do your work. Just send me back through to Jeremy. He likes talking to your mother more than you do.”

Max had to agree with her and put her on hold before hanging up the line. “She’s all yours,” he said, holding down the page button on the phone. “And do not mention any name whatsoever for the wife I do not have. Got it?’

“Whatever you say, Maxie,” Jeremy sang, and Max let his head fall to the desk this time.

Maybe he would just get drunk tonight and find a wife on Saturday. Yeah, that sounded like a great plan.