Playboy Ever After

CHANCE CARTER

Chapter 1

Emma

I boosted the duffel bag further up on my shoulder and continued my slow progress toward the glass front doors of the apartment building. The suitcase behind me was heavy, laden with more than just my clothes and valuables. It, and the bag threatening to tear off my shoulder, were reminders of one painful fact—that even the best laid plans can wither and die in the time between two heartbeats.

This morning I woke up Emma Valentine, steady girlfriend of Lance Anderson, and the hopeful future Mrs. Anderson. Now, at nearly seven o’clock in the evening, I was plain old Emma Valentine—homeless singleton with a broken heart.

I huffed and puffed up the front steps and buzzed the apartment of my best friend Willow. I had texted her on the way over, providing a quick and sketchy version of what was happening and asking for a place to stay, but I hadn’t yet had the chance to explain more fully. She was fine with the short notice anyway, and understood that I too would have preferred a little more notice.

“Hey hon,” Willow answered. “I’m buzzing you in now.”

I made a mental note to give Willow a refresher course on apartment security, since I could be any random stranger buzzing her door, and she lived in Queens, not on the little farm her parents owned upstate.

Right now, however, I had other priorities.

The door clicked open and I shuffled forward and slipped through.

At least Willow’s building had an elevator. It was a small win, but I would take any win I could get these days. That was the kind of thing you appreciated when everything else in your life was in shambles.

No cardio today, life.

Willow’s door was open when I reached the fourth floor and she was waiting to hug me before I’d even stepped over the threshold. I only got a flash of her blonde hair and sea blue eyes before she was throwing her arms around my middle, and squeezing the living daylights out of me and my poor duffel bag.

“I’m so sorry about what happened, Em,” she said. “You can stay here as long as you need to.”

“Thanks, Will.” I hugged her back, my forehead resting just atop her crown of pale curls. She wasn’t all that much shorter than me at 5’4,” but the four inches sure made a difference when we were hugging.

“Come on,” she said, pulling back and smiling at me. “I’ve got a box of wine and all the kombucha you can drink.”

I grimaced. “Just the wine, I think.”

Willow laughed lightly, slipping around me to grab the suitcase so she could follow me inside. I dropped my duffel bag in the entranceway, my shoulder singing Hallelujah.

Willow’s apartment was one of my favorite places to be in the world. It wasn’t all that spectacular, but she’d worn it in over the years until it was uniquely her own. From the blanket wall hangings depicting various groovy designs, to the gigantic bean bag chair in the corner of her living room, perfect for snuggling up on with a book, the space had an eclectic charm that I’d hoped to one day have in my own place.

With Lance.

I was crying before I even hit the sofa.

Willow was an expert at dealing with other people’s emotions, which was more than I could say for myself. She gave me a little space while she poured our drinks and made a plate of snacks, then set the goods on the recycled driftwood coffee table and curled up against my side.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

The curiosity was killing her. I didn’t blame her. Why, after two years of exclusive dating and six months of living together, would Lance suddenly toss me on the street? It didn’t make any sense. I was under the impression we were building a life together.

“He, uh,” I sniffed. “He said that our relationship had grown stale.”

My voice cracked near the end and I reached for the wine, downing a healthy gulp before I felt able to continue.

“He said he wasn’t happy, that he didn’t love me anymore. And that…”

I didn’t know if I could say the last part.

Willow must have sensed this. She immediately started rubbing my back with fervor, probably a little more than was necessary.

“You don’t have to tell me now if you don’t want to,” she said. “Or ever if you really don’t want to.”

“No, no,” I said, wiping under my eyes. “I think it would be good to talk about it. I don’t think I’ve started processing yet and I need to.”

I gulped in a deep mouthful of air, then exhaled. My voice was small when I spoke.

“Lance said that everything that went wrong in our relationship was m-m-my fault.”

Willow immediately sat back, shocked, her ever-present bangles and earrings jangling with the sudden movement.

“He said what now?”

I stared at her balefully, not wanting to repeat it. She understood and grabbed the plate of snacks, handing me a slice of apple covered in peanut butter. It was good, though it didn’t fill the hole in my chest by a long shot.

“Well, I don’t believe him,” Willow said. “You’ve done everything for him. You worked your ass off every day so you could help him with bills when he was in between jobs. You put up with all his crap.”

She frowned, clearly puzzled.

“I just don’t get it.”

I shrugged.

“Neither do I. But the heart wants what it wants, right? And Lance has made it very clear that his apparently does not want me.”

“But to just kick you out like that! The nerve of him.”

I took another swallow of wine. I couldn’t imagine staying in the same apartment as him anyway, after everything that had happened tonight. He’d been callous and cruel, almost unflinching as I reacted to the news. The rejection hurt too much for me to want to be close enough for him to inflict another attack.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying with you?” I asked.

Willow nodded quickly, eyes wide.

“Of course! You’re my best friend and I’ll do whatever I can to help you. And for what it’s worth, I think this could be a good thing for you. You know how I felt about Lance. Feel, I mean, how I feel about him. Which, at this moment, is that he’s a complete ass, by the way.”

I nodded. Willow had never liked Lance, not from the first time they had met. It wasn’t any single thing she found fault with, just his overall personality. She didn’t like how aggressive and critical he could be, but for me those traits were indication that he was a driven perfectionist. Except, the only thing he’d ever seemed to perfect was his latest excuse for quitting his job, whichever one he had at the time. And, at the end of the day, even I could recognize that the Lance I’d fallen for was not the same one who’d unceremoniously ejected me from our apartment today.

“I know you didn’t like him, but can we keep the Lance-bashing to a minimum?” I asked, “at least for tonight?”

“Absolutely. Besides, that’s not what you need.”

I had no idea what I needed, so the thought that somebody else might was a huge relief.

“What do I need?”

Willow pushed another apple slice into my mouth and then demonstratively chugged back a huge portion of her wine.

I didn’t exactly agree that getting plastered and eating my weight in healthy snacks was what I needed, but I was willing to give it a shot. For science. After swallowing my mouthful of apple, I tipped my head back and showed I was truly in the spirit by drinking the remaining contents of the glass. Willow cheered and rose to refill my glass, and I indulged in another slice of apple.

Three glasses later, I realized what I did need. We were listening to one of Willow’s Billy Joel records, because apparently he had some sort of soul healing ability. It was about halfway through “Piano Man” that I realized what I needed to do.

“I need a life change,” I announced from my bean bag throne.

Willow, lying across the couch with her head over the side, looked at me with an upside-down smile.

“What kind of change? A new haircut?”

I self-consciously ran my hands over my auburn waves, horrified at the thought of something happening to them. I loved my hair. It was silky, shiny, and always seemed to have the perfect texture. There was no way in hell I’d be chopping it off in some sort of ‘new hair, new me’ effort.

“No, I mean like a big change.”

Willow sat up, sensing this was a serious conversation, and turned down the volume on the stereo.

“You know I’m all about change,” she said. “Lay it on me.”

“Uh, well...” I said, frowning. “ I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

Offering up an apologetic smile, I shrugged. “Help me?”

Willow laughed and came down to sit across from me, folding her legs into a perfect lotus.

“If you’re going to make a big change in your life, it needs to come from in here.” She said, pointing to her chest, just above her heart.

I normally hated when she tossed out trite expressions like that, but this time it struck a chord. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was Billy Joel. Maybe it was the bean bag chair. Whatever the case, I dug down deep and tried to figure out what my heart would tell me to do if it could speak. Which it couldn’t, no matter what Willow said.

Even though I was miserable about losing Lance, I did recognize that I wasn’t always happy when we were together. There was something missing from my life with him, something that I’d never really taken the time to explore, because I’d been afraid of pushing him away by doing so.

“I want independence,” I said. “Lance always got to dictate how I lived my life. And before Lance, it was my parents. I’ve been in a rut for God knows how long now and it’s time for me to get out of it.”

Willow pumped her fists in the air.

“Yes! That is exactly what I think you need! That was some great soul-searching, babe.”

I smiled, pleased with the compliment, and took a celebratory drink of wine.

Now I had to figure out how to be more independent. Finding my own place would be part of that, but I would have to make some other changes first.

“So what’s the plan?” Willow asked.

I thought for a moment.

“I think I want a new job.”

My current job, waitressing at a family restaurant, wasn’t cutting it for me. I’d only stayed there as long as I had because it was stable and I got decent tips. I was always too afraid to try something new in case Lance needed to lean on me. Now that I was going it alone, I could rely on the little lump of savings I’d been building to get me through if things went south. After all, I wasn’t going to be using the savings now anyway, since it was supposed to be for our wedding.

“A new job,” Willow said, with a wistful tone. “That’s such a great idea! Very Bridget Jones of you. You should try to find something art related.”

I cringed at this, even as a shiver of excitement ran down my spine.

“No. Not art. I’m willing to try just about anything, but I’ve always wanted to work in an office.”

Cue Willow’s cringe. She couldn’t think of a worse place to work than an office, with its business suits and filing systems. She was an elementary school teacher, and a brilliant one at that. Sometimes I wondered how the two of us ever found each other.

“Okay, a business job. We can work with that.”

She raised her glass for a toast.

“To new beginnings.”

I countered her toast with one of my own.

“To going all Bridget Jones on this bitch.”

Chapter 2

Max

It was, by all accounts, a successful party. The drinks flowed freely, the sound of laughter drifted above the strains of classical music from the orchestra tucked in the corner of the grand ballroom, and not a single one of the tasteful yet elegant decorations was out of place. Everyone was having a good time.

Everyone except the birthday boy, that is.

“I love when your mother throws these things,” said my best friend, Jeremy Braun, grabbing a crab cake from a passing tray and stuffing it into his mouth. “Always a ton of beautiful women. Always a ton of tasty food.”

“And that’s all you need to have a good time?” I asked, in a voice drier than my Moët.

Jeremy quirked a brow, genuinely puzzled. “What else could a man want?”

“Some peace and fucking quiet,” I muttered under my breath.

Jeremy heard me and laughed, snatching a stuffed mushroom and nibbling at it uncertainly. After his first bite, he made a face and dropped it on the next tray to pass by.

“I wish she’d not do so much seafood, though.”

“It’s expensive,” I answered. “Of course she’s going to order it. By the bucket load.”

Jeremy’s olive eyes stared past me and his brow wrinkled. “Speaking of which. Incoming—”

That was all the warning I got before Paulina Westfield bustled into my vision, arms held slightly aloft like a tiny drunken dinosaur. I could tell from the tinge of pink on my mother’s cheeks that she was having a nice time this evening, which I should have expected.

“Maximilian, there you are.”

I cringed at her use of my full name. I hated when she did that.

“Here I am,” I said, offering up a pleasant smile. “Lovely party. Thank you.”

“You deserve it, my dear. My only child, now thirty years old,” she sighed. “So, what does that make me? A lonely old widow? It’s nice to get to spend time with all these young people, even if they do remind me that my glory days are far behind me.”

“Paulina, you look stunning,” Jeremy said, in a honeyed tone he reserved for such occasions. “Nobody would believe you were Max’s mother if they didn’t know.”

It was true that my mother did look much younger than her fifty-three years. She always bought the best skin creams and lotions on the market, and had regular teeth whitening and Botox treatments. She wore her dyed black hair in an elegant chignon most days, though for tonight’s special event she’d opted for a more elaborate up do, with braids, pins and all sorts of other debris. Her clear pale skin had barely any wrinkles, and when she looked at me it was with the same icy blue eyes from all my childhood photos.

“Jeremy, you’re such a charmer.”

Mom laughed and rested a hand on his arm flirtatiously.

“We really must find a girl who can keep up with you, otherwise you’ll leave a string of broken hearts behind you.”

“As long as I never break yours.”

My mother practically preened at that. It took her a full twenty seconds to recover before she turned to me, intent evident in her gaze.

“I’m afraid I must steal you away, darling. I have somebody I’d like you to meet.”

I glanced up at Jeremy, who shrugged and took another sip of his champagne.

“I’ll go do the rounds.”

I nodded to my friend and followed my mother through the crowd, wondering what she had up her sleeve this time. She was always up to something. Paulina Westfield was a meddler, through and through. She had no qualms about eavesdropping or gossiping, so long as it served her purposes. Generally those purposes weren’t harmful, but I had at least one ex-girlfriend who’d learned the hard way not to mess with my mother.

Mom stopped in front of a tall blonde wearing a pretty purple dress. The girl was talking to a group of people, but the moment my mother tapped her on the back she turned and gave me a dazzling smile.

“Maximilian, this is Cynthia Bronstein. Her father owns half the properties in Manhattan, you know.”

“Not quite half,” Cynthia said, laughing shyly.

She had a pretty smile, which matched the rest of her pretty features. Long, dark lashes that framed exotic green eyes, a straight aquiline nose, and lips that parted with lust when she saw me looking her over. She was hot, I’d give her that. The dress was tight on her curves, and I wondered how her ass would feel in the palm of my hand.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” my mother said, and just like that, she was gone.

“Happy birthday,” Cynthia said.

“Thanks.”

The silence lengthened between us.

“Your mother said you like sailing.”

I sighed, “My mother wishes I liked sailing. I like to go out on my father’s yacht from time to time.”

“Your father’s?” she said her eyes filled with confusion. “But I thought...?”

“Yes, he’s dead,” I said, straightforwardly. “But I don’t feel comfortable claiming ownership over something he put so much of himself into.”

My father loved that yacht. He would spend weeks at a time out on the water, which I’d always thought would get lonely. Little did I know at the time that he was never actually alone. When he died five years ago, he left the yacht to me, but it would always be his in my mind.

“I’m sorry,” Cynthia looked down. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Actually, if you’ll excuse me I have a phone call to make,” I said. “My apologies.”

I slipped away from Cynthia, not particularly caring if I hurt her feelings with my abrupt departure. I wasn’t upset, just bored. I’d had that same conversation with countless girls over the years. After a while, they all started to blend into one—just another young, pretty socialite with more money than sense. They weren’t all like that, of course. Some of them were quite intelligent and talented, but that didn’t make me any more interested.

The aspect I enjoyed most about my mother’s parties was the relative anonymity they afforded. Few of the people here could spot me on sight, and those that could were generally distant acquaintances that didn’t have the nerve to come talk to me anyway. And there were lots of them.

I did a couple rounds of the room, accepting well-wishes from the people I did know, then blending back into the crowd. All the while, I kept an eye out for Jeremy.

I soon spotted him near the back corner of the room. He had a napkin of food in one hand and a drink in the other, and he looked bored as hell. He brightened up when he saw me.

“For a lawyer, you’re awfully anti-social,” I mused when I reached him.

Jeremy offered a weak shrug.

“My job is to talk. I’d rather not do it in my spare time too if I can avoid it. Especially to your mother’s lot.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, with amusement. “You say that like they’re not your own lot as well.”

Jeremy had grown up just as privileged as I did, only his father was a lawyer instead of a business tycoon.

“Oh, you know,” he said as he gestured vaguely toward the mass of people in the ballroom. “They’re all so… stodgy. She picks them based on breeding and temperament, much like a person chooses a show dog. Where are all the playful little mutts?”

I knew exactly what he meant. If just one of the girls my mother introduced me to had a spark of fire in her, perhaps I would be more interested. But she wasn’t looking to entertain me—she was looking to marry me off.

“Oh shit.”

Jeremy shoved the food in his mouth and stepped around me before I even had the chance to ask him what he was doing.

I turned and saw why he’d made such a speedy exit.

Paulina was headed straight toward me, her jaw so tight I wouldn’t be surprised if she cracked a tooth. It was her signature ‘pissed off’ expression, one that she’d cultivated and perfected over decades of dealing with my churlishness and my father’s antics.

“Maximilian Augustus Westfield!” she snapped, her voice a little louder than I would have liked. “What in the name of all that is holy do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, I was having a conversation with one of my friends at my birthday party, but it looks as though you’ve scared him off.”

It irritated me when she called me Maximilian, but I got especially annoyed when she resorted to using my full name. Most of the time I tried to pretend my middle name didn’t exist. It was just like her to name her firstborn son after a Roman emperor.

She let out an exasperated sigh. “You know very well what I mean. Cynthia Bronstein is a lovely girl and now you’ve embarrassed her.”

“Embarrassed her?” I asked. “How did I do that, I barely even spoke to her.”

“Exactly! What will everyone think?”

I groaned, not caring how impetuous it made me sound.

“Mother, I don’t care what everyone thinks. Isn’t this supposed to be my birthday party? Aren’t I supposed to be doing what I want?”

“Maximilian, my nerves are running very thin. Do you want to give your poor mother a heart attack?”

Oh boy. She was gaining momentum and was likely to spin up into a full-blown tantrum if I didn’t do something to stop it. I often thought she’d entered the wrong business. Rather than being the stay-at-home wife of a billionaire property investor, she should have taken her penchant for drama to Broadway. Then I wouldn’t have to be the only one dealing with her song and dance.

“I’m not trying to give you a heart attack.” I placed a reassuring palm on her shoulder. “Cynthia was very nice, but I thought it best to save both of us some time by ending our acquaintance before it truly began.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t do it to every girl!” she moaned. “You’re thirty years old now, Maximilian. You need to start thinking about a smart match. You need to start thinking about an heir.”

My eye twitched. “Why would I do that, when you spend so much time doing it already?” I clapped her on the shoulder.

Paulina was not amused.

“When are you going to start taking your role in this family seriously?” she said, downing the rest of her champagne flute, not waiting for me to answer. “I will find you a wife, Maximilian. Mark my words. I refuse to see the fortune your father built get divided amongst the snake den you call your cousins. Hear me?”

“That’s a commandment for the ages, Mrs. Westfield,” said a smooth female voice from my left. “Possibly one of your best yet.”

Rather than glowering at the newcomer, as Mother would usually do, she turned to the petite brunette at my side with a warm smile.

“Haddie! My dear, you’re late! That’s not like you.”

My personal assistant Haddie was my rock. I didn’t know what I’d do without her, especially in situations like this. She had an uncanny ability for defusing my mother, which was worth having her on my payroll all on its own.

The pair air-kissed, and Haddie winked at me as they did.

“I got a little caught up at home,” Haddie said. “Do you mind if I steal your son for a moment?”

“Not at all, darling. Enjoy the party!”

Then Paulina disappeared into the crowd, grabbing another glass of champagne on the way.

I turned to my PA, smiling down into her brown eyes.

“Remind me to give you a bonus for that. She was about to go nuclear.”

Haddie chuckled.

“I’ll remember you said that. Can I have a word outside?”

We went out onto the patio, which was largely unoccupied due to the chilly spring evening. It wasn’t raining, at least. Haddie wrung her hands and pursed her lips, clearly about to say something she found uncomfortable.

“What is it?” I asked.

She smiled, and stuttered, “Uh, well... I’m pregnant.”

My eyebrows dove skyward.

“That’s great news! Congratulations.”

Haddie smiled weakly, but I had a feeling her being pregnant wasn’t the big news she pulled me aside to talk about.

“Yeah, the only thing is that Dave and I are going to move to Virginia to be closer to his family,” she said. “So you’re going to be needing a new personal assistant.”

My smile fell.

Fuck.

Chapter 3

Emma

My knee shook uncontrollably. I had to rest a hand on it to keep from jiggling against the person next to me, who had already proven herself to be far more suited for the job for which we were both about to interview. She knew it, too.

It wasn’t my fault I didn’t have a high-end pant suit to rock on interview day. I’d spent the past couple of years as a waitress, and the only uniform requirement for that had been something that wouldn’t show stains. This was a whole new world. A new and scary world. If I got this job, however, I’d be well on track toward getting over Lance and moving on with my life. What said progress more than a well-paying office job at one of the biggest real estate firms in the world?

Unfortunately, the other people waiting in the reception area had the same hunger in their eyes that I did. They wanted this job bad—but I wanted it more. It would push me way out of my comfort zone, yes, but it was the only interview I’d been invited to so far, at a place where I wouldn’t have to serve or make food. I wanted to start taking steps forward in my life, and this job was my golden ticket. Which of course made me even more anxious as I listened to the ticking of the clock on the wall and waited for my name to be called.

The woman doing the interviews, and the candidate she’d just interviewed, came down the glass paneled hallway across from me and into the room. The woman glanced down at the clipboard in her hand, then looked up, searching.

“Emma Valentine?”

“Present!” I said, shooting up out of my seat.

It didn’t hit me how idiotic it looked until I saw the interviewer’s lips curl into a smile.

“Right this way,” she said.

We passed down the same glass hallway that I’d watched three people before me traverse, then entered into a brightly lit office space. There were cubicles spread across the room, each one tastefully decorated to match the general artistry of the space. People in business suits milled around the room, either chatting with their coworkers, working at their desks, or walking from place to place. It was all a little overwhelming.

Thankfully, the interview was held in an office at the back of the room. It was sparsely decorated, which led me to believe that perhaps it was the office of the person who had left, and thus provided a suitable vacant space.

“Take a seat,” the brunette instructed, stepping around to the other side of the desk and sitting down.

I sat as well, smiling in what I hoped was a pleasant, but not creepy or fake manner.

“I’m Haddie Thompson,” she said, “Mr. Westfield’s current personal assistant, and I’ll be interviewing you today.”

“Lovely to meet you, Haddie.”

I reached over and shook her hand, which seemed to please her.

“Before we get into your qualifications, Emma, let’s talk about why you’re here.”

She shuffled the papers on the desk and nudged them to the side.

“Why do you want this job?”

I gulped.

“I’ve always wanted to work in a professional office environment and I think it would be a good use of my skills.”

Haddie raised a skeptical brow.

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that.”

Though evidently unsatisfied with my answer, Haddie was ready to move on. She pulled the papers back toward her, and I saw it was my resume she was looking over.

Oh no. She already didn’t like me.

What came next was the result of me having a major WWBJD (What Would Bridget Jones Do?) moment.

“Actually, I applied for this job because I’ve been a waitress for the past two years and I’m trying this new thing where I better my life instead of taking steps backward because my crappy ex-boyfriend kicked me out of our apartment and I have nowhere to go but up,” I blurted.

Haddie’s eyes met mine again and the panic rising in my throat slowly settled. It was almost impossible to believe, but she looked impressed.

“That is unfortunate,” she said. “I had one like that. You’re right, the only thing you can do at that point is work on you.”

With the faintest of smiles, she smoothly transitioned to my resume.

The interview went on much longer than the others had seemed to. After we discussed the position and my qualifications, sparse though they were, Haddie and I just chatted for a bit. We both loved the pizza place down the street and she gave me tips on other places in the neighborhood worth checking out. I was feeling very hopeful about the whole thing, so by the time I hit the elevator, I was on another plane.

I texted Willow, even though I knew she was at school and wouldn’t be able to answer for a little while. I told her that the interview had gone well and that hopefully I’d hear soon. She surprised me by texting back immediately, and I walked across the lobby downstairs with my nose shoved practically right against the screen. I was so excited about the potential job that I didn’t care how stupid it was to get so absorbed in my phone.

I was just telling Willow that I would pick up a bottle of wine for us on the way home when the consequences of my carelessness hit me in the face. Well, more like I ran into them. Or him.

The man whose shoulder I’d just clipped was about as solid as a brick wall. In my haste to back away, I tripped over my own feet and went sprawling on the marble.

My knees hit the floor painfully, and I let out a small yelp without meaning to.

“Are you okay?” a deep, male voice asked.

I looked up at the man who I’d run into, and any words I’d been about to say dried up in my mouth.

He was, without a doubt, the most attractive man I’d ever seen. His hair was so dark it was nearly black, and he wore it neatly combed back from his forehead. He had soulful cornflower blue eyes, now sparkling with mirth, and a wicked mouth that curved sensuously as I ogled him. He was leaning down toward me, extending a hand that I hadn’t noticed until now. I swallowed hard and took it, my skin burning where it touched his. From his wide jaw, dusted with a five o’clock shadow, to his long, aristocratic nose, this guy looked like he’d walked out of a fantasy built specifically for me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, and even when I was standing again I was hesitant to drop his hand.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“I noticed.”

He reached down and plucked my phone off the tile, handing it back to me.

How had I not noticed that I’d stood up without my phone? This was going from bad to worse.

“Do you work here?” the man asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

This amused him, and his eyes narrowed on me.

“You don’t know, huh? You can’t be that great of an employee, then.”

“Either the best or the worst.”

He chuckled and extended his hand, this time to shake.

“I’m Max.”

“Emma.”

Losing his touch once was bad enough. This time, I had to do everything in my power not to hang onto his hand after the handshake. Was I going crazy? I certainly felt like it.

“I only ask because I feel like I would have remembered seeing you around before,” Max said.

“Likewise.” I shamelessly let my gaze slide down his towering frame, admiring the tailored fit of his charcoal suit and the white shirt stretched across his chest beneath. His leather shoes were shined perfectly, and everything about this guy screamed money.

“Do you make a habit of bowling over innocent businessmen?” he asked.

I smiled flirtatiously.

“Only the cute ones.”

What? This was a major WWBJD moment!

“Cute?” Max made a face. “I haven’t been called cute in a good many years.”

“What do people normally call you?”

He smiled and said, “Depends on the person. If it’s my mother, ungrateful bastard is right up there.”

The laugh that rippled through me was completely genuine. I loved how easy it was talking to Max. Even though I was still nervous and a little awkward because of how damn attractive he was, I felt generally at ease with the handsome stranger.

“In that case, I only bowl over the ungrateful bastards,” I said, with a little half-smile. “Which today I guess puts you at the top of my list.”

His eyes flashed. “I don’t think I mind being there.”

Electricity zapped between us. I hadn’t gone this mushy over a guy other than Lance in a long time, and even with Lance, the attraction had never been so intense.

Ugh. Lance.

Talk about throwing a bucket of ice water over my mood.

Max looked down at his watch, a flashy Rolex that probably cost more than my dream wedding. “I’ve got a meeting to get to,” he said. “But it was nice to meet you, Emma.”

“Likewise.”

He grinned, “Perhaps I’ll see you around.”

I offered another shrug, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

He stepped around me and walked toward the elevator, though the rich sound of his laugh floated back to me. It took everything in me not to turn and watch him walk away. He probably had a spectacular ass. It was a damn shame that I needed to keep at least a tiny shred of my dignity.

When I got out into the cool air, I found that my cheeks were burning. I wondered if I’d been blushing like that the whole time.

I texted Willow, filling her in on what had happened. She was excited that I’d had a flirtatious conversation with a complete stranger, and that he’d been sex on legs to boot. Maybe excited didn’t cover it. She was thrilled. She wanted me to get over Lance more than I even wanted me to get over Lance. Not to say I didn’t want to get over him, just that I didn’t see the need to rush. Getting over a heartbreak took time, right?

One thing was for certain—even if my encounter with Max had been a little embarrassing, it was a big step for me. And a good one, too. For the first time in a long time I walked down the street with my head held high, feeling like I could take whatever the world wanted to throw at me.

Chapter 4

Max

Jeremy had a bad habit of rearranging everything in my office, from the moment he first stepped in to the millisecond before he left. Right now he was stacking paperclips into some sort of pyramid structure, and I left him to it. Cleaning up a few paperclips would be easier than rearranging the chairs once he was gone.

“Do you think they’ll take the deal?” I asked.

We were in the process of acquiring a couple properties on the outskirts of the city. They were far from exceptional investments, but I was eager to expand my father’s business in any and every way I could. He’d started working at Goodman-Westfield back when it was still Goodman, Inc., and had moved up the ranks until he was Bernard Goodman’s right hand man. The older man had practically treated my father like the son he never had, and my father had paid him back by using his sound business acumen to make strong investments and build the company. Goodman-Westfield was only what it was today because of my father’s hard work. It was a legacy I wanted to honor.

“Of course they will. Their lawyers are a bunch of weak-willed sea sponges. Now, if they had someone like your mother on their legal team...” He made a throat slitting gesture.

I laughed. “That woman has a sixth sense for sniffing out weakness.”

“If only you’d inherited such a talent,” Jeremy mused. “Perhaps then you wouldn’t be so vulnerable to her every whim.”

I sat up in my chair, frowning. “I am not vulnerable to her every whim.”

“Oh, come on, Max.” My friend smiled. “I’m just messing with you. Although, I do think it’s worth mentioning that although you inevitably reject every girl she sends your way, you still let her keep sending them.”

“You say let her as if I have a choice in the matter,” I muttered. “Even after she’s dead, she’ll be sending me potential wives from beyond the grave.”

“Unless you’ve already married one of them by then.”

I exhaled through my teeth. “Not likely.”

Jeremy moved on from his paperclip creation to the stack of post it notes beside my computer. He tore one off and sat back, folding it thoughtfully.

“I heard about her declaration at your birthday,” Jeremy said. “Very ominous.”

“Who told you about that?”

“Haddie.” He grinned. “That girl’s an awful gossip.”

“Only because she knows how annoying you can be when you want to.”

I didn’t mind that Haddie had told Jeremy about what my mother said. As far as I was concerned, Jeremy was privy to any and all secrets I might have, and Haddie knew that. But the new PA, whoever he or she was, wouldn’t know anything about me or how I liked my office run. Or my life.

“When’s the new girl start?” Jeremy asked, sensing my train of thought.

“Haddie said today. Can’t remember if it’s a woman or a man though.”

“Here’s to hoping for a beautiful young woman.” Jeremy placed the tiny, neon pink paper airplane on my desk and then crossed his fingers.

“As long as they can do the job, I don’t care.”

There was a knock on the door, and I glanced up. “Come in.”

Haddie walked in a moment later, smiling brightly at us. “I see you two are hard at work.” She gave a pointed glance to the tower of paperclips and the little paper airplane.

I was too distracted to answer by the sight of the woman who walked in behind her.

No. It couldn’t be.

But, then again it made sense that Emma, the girl who’d run into me in the lobby a week ago, would be my new assistant. That would explain why she was in the building, and her being unable to say whether she worked there or not. Plus, it was the kind of cruel shit that fate would do.

“You know us,” said Jeremy, eyes raking over the slender redhead. I wanted to reach over the desk and smack him. “Always hard... at work.”

I rolled my eyes. So did Haddie. I was going to miss her.

“Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to Emma Valentine.” She pushed the girl in front of her, presenting Emma like she was a show pony. “Emma, this is Max Westfield and Jeremy Braun. Max is, as you know, your boss. Jeremy doesn’t work here, but he’s constantly lingering and we can’t seem to get rid of him.”

“Hey!” Jeremy objected. “I could sue you for that.”

Haddie raised an incredulous brow, then looked at me. “That’s the best your corporate lawyer’s got? Are you sure you’re getting the most for your money?”

Emma looked like she was officially in over her head. While we three laughed and joked with each other, she was staring at me with a wide eyed expression that said it still hadn’t sunk in that the man she’d been flirting with a week ago was now her boss.

I liked her when she was a little off balance like this. She seemed so confident at times, and at others so shy. It was a delicious mix.

“Emma and I have met actually,” I said, standing and offering my new assistant my hand anyway.

“You have?” asked Haddie.

Emma shook my hand, and I wondered if she also felt the current of electricity that passed between our palms.

“We ran into each other in the lobby after my interview,” Emma supplied.

She pulled her hand back and cradled it against her stomach like I’d burned her.

“Quite literally.” I sat back down, and tried to look as least intimidating as possible. More than anything, I wanted this girl to be a good employee. Being afraid of me wouldn’t help that along.

Almost more than that, I wanted to slam her against the wall and ravage her mouth with mine. The way her pencil skirt hugged the tight curve of her hips was enough to drive a man insane, and the cleavage peeking through her blouse wasn’t helping things. She had an angelic face and delicious, plump lips, and I’d been hoping to see her again since our first meeting. But not like this.

“I’ve got lots of stuff I need to show Emma still,” said Haddie. “And it looks like you boys have got, uh, stuff to do as well.” She grinned cheekily. “We’re just outside if you need anything.”

I watched Emma walk out the door, her ass bouncing in the tight skirt, making my cock twitch in response. She closed the door behind her, and when I looked to Jeremy, he wore a knowing smile.

“Now that’s going to be a distraction,” he said.

I ran a hand through my hair and sat up in my chair. “That was the same thing you said when Haddie first started.”

While it was the same thing he’d said when Haddie first started, the situations were entirely incomparable. I hadn’t talked to Haddie before, hadn’t thought about kissing her before I’d even known her name. And even though Haddie was beautiful, she’d never brought out a carnal lust in me like Emma did.

Jeremy wasn’t buying my excuse either. “Oh, please,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You were looking at that girl like you wanted to eat her. I’ve never seen you with so much as a professional hair out of place, but she got a reaction.” He grinned, “That girl is going to be trouble with a capital T.”

“She’s going to be my new assistant,” I corrected impatiently. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

Jeremy raised his eyebrows at my sudden irritation. He didn’t need to say any more to get his point across.

“We should be talking business anyway.” I sat forward, gathering up the pile of paperwork on my desk. “Where were we?”

Jeremy sighed, “I can’t believe that not only do you have a mother determined to set you up with beautiful heiresses at the drop of a hat, but now you have a smoking hot new assistant.”

“Enough.” I made my tone sharp. This time it got the message across. Jeremy slid forward in his seat to look at the papers in front of him, but the expression on his face was almost petulant. Working with my best friend had its advantages and its disadvantages.

Jeremy and I finished the rest of our business without interruption, and he left soon afterward. Even though the air in the room was a little charged, I knew we’d be fine the next time we saw each other. Jeremy had a talent for dancing on a person’s last nerve, something he often used in the courtroom to destabilize his opponent. He could control it about as well as I could control my snappy temper. I knew that once he was gone, we’d both have some time to breathe and things would smooth out between us in a heartbeat.

Things didn’t smooth out for me, unfortunately. I wasn’t angry at Jeremy, but I still felt agitated for some reason. I kept wanting to go out and check on my new assistant, but it was an urge I knew I couldn’t give into if I wanted any chance of keeping things professional for the foreseeable future. I was lusting after Emma in a bad way, and I would be the first to admit it. I’d spent my career maintaining as much professional distance in my relationships as possible, because I didn’t want to inherit my father’s reputation. Plus, it didn’t seem right.

Wanting her felt wrong and agonizing, but that didn’t mean I could stop it. The only thing to do was grin, bear it, and hope that in time I’d find some fault with Emma, something that would dump a bucket of ice water over me so I could see her with a clear head.

And if nothing came up? Well, I was officially screwed.

Chapter 5

Emma

It was a miracle I made it back to my desk without collapsing into a wiggling pile of goo on the office floor. The moment Haddie turned me back over to the computer, I practically fell into the office chair and had to take a moment to regain my composure without her seeing what had gotten me so frazzled.

“So, these are the email folders I have set up,” Haddie was saying, giving me a tour of her inbox. “Obviously you’ll have to set up your own with your email, but a lot of the things we do are pretty regular, so it’s good to have an organizational system in place.”

I nodded, trying to soak up what she was saying, even though my mind kept straying to the dark-haired god seated only a couple dozen feet away from me.

I couldn’t believe that the hot guy I ran into last week was now my boss. Talk about a cruel twist of fate. The worst part? He was even hotter to me now that I knew he was my boss. Suddenly he’d been labeled ‘forbidden fruit,’ yet he was within arm’s reach at all times. It wasn’t fair.

“Should we move on to daily tasks?” Haddie asked.

Crap. I’d completely zoned out.

“Yeah, sounds good.” I smiled weakly, though she seemed pretty focused on the screen in front of her and didn’t seem to notice.

I was good at picking things up, and had no doubt in my mind that I’d be fine at this job once I got the hang of it. So far it was pretty straightforward, though Haddie said the duties would layer as I got more accustomed to them. That was fine. I was just happy to be out of my old job and the old rut I used to call my life. I was out on my own—sorta—and taking the business world by storm—a little anyway.

Remembering my purpose for taking this job, I felt stupid for letting my mind wander about the hot boss. I refocused, and by the end of the day Haddie thought I was ready to be left alone for a bit. I wasn’t so sure.

“It’s just half an hour,” she said, grabbing her coat from the chair. “Nothing ever happens in the last half hour of the shift anyway, unless Max needs something, and he’s not going to give you anything too stressful to do on your first day.”

“Thanks, Haddie.” I didn’t want her to see how much I was freaking out inside. I could handle this. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes you will!” she said. “Have a good night.”

With that, Haddie was gone. I watched her swagger through the rows of cubicles toward the elevator, then turned to my computer. For the first time all day I was alone at my desk. It was a strange sensation. I’d never had a desk at work before.

I started clicking through emails, which Haddie said would help familiarize me with the way things worked around here. I was barely finished reading the second one when my intercom buzzed.

Crap. Crap! What was I supposed to say again?

My hands started to sweat. I reached out and pressed the button, cringing as I spoke. “Hello?”

There was a deep chuckle from the other end of the line. “Hi.”

I blanched. Why had I answered the damn thing like a telephone? I already knew who was calling.

“Uh, hey Mr. Westfield. I haven’t quite figured everything here out yet,” I replied. “Are you looking for Haddie? She left already.”

My heart was racing and I felt completely ridiculous. It was just a conversation. Just a normal conversation with my boss. My hot boss. My incredibly hot boss.

No big deal.

“I was looking for you, actually,” he replied smoothly. “Would you mind coming into my office?”

“Not at all,” I gulped. “I’ll be right in.”

“Great.”

I sucked down a mouthful of air as I pulled my hand from the button, wondering if I was in trouble already. What could I have possibly done wrong on my first day?

Straightening my skirt, I rose onto wobbly feet and did my best, most confident walk to his office door. Luckily, it was a short walk.

I knocked, listening for his reply.

“Come in.”

Max grinned at me when I entered. “We just talked, you know. You don’t have to knock as well.”

I closed the door behind me, smiling nervously. “Noted. What can I do for you?”

Maybe he just wanted me to fetch him a coffee or something. It was a bit late in the day for one, but at least that was something I could do pretty easily.

Max gestured for the seat in front of his desk. “Please. Take a seat.”

I didn’t like the way this was going. I hated suspense. I once tried to get into reading thrillers, but I’d always get too antsy and read ahead to see what happened. Apparently I was just one of those people who preferred things at face value. Books and people.

I sat and waited to hear what he’d called me in for.

Max’s office was gorgeous. It had all the elegant fixings and finishes you’d expect for a man in his position—a polished oak desk, grand bookcases stuffed with hard-backed tomes, a chrome-finished wall clock perfectly centered on the wall. There were few personal touches, though I saw a picture of him and his father hanging on the wall by the bookcases. Haddie had told me earlier that Max’s father died a few years ago of heart failure. Apparently Max had taken it pretty hard, and since then he’d been intent on continuing his father’s legacy.

“I just called you in because I think we should get to know each other a little better,” Max said. “We’re going to be working closely, so it doesn’t make sense for us to be strangers. You can call me Max, by the way. You only need to do the whole Mr. Westfield thing around clients, or in more formal settings. You’ll soon see and will be able to adjust without a thought.”

“Thanks,” I said. I recalled Haddie’s interaction with Max and his friend earlier, and wondered if I could expect to get that close to him. I’d been shocked by the way she spoke to the two men, but also a little jealous. “What do you want to know?”

His lip curled a little at the corner, giving the impression that he was amused. “Well, to start with, maybe tell me a bit about yourself. Where did you grow up?”

“Springfield, Illinois,” I answered. “I moved to New York after high school.”

“Seems a little young to be traipsing off to the big city,” he observed.

“It’s all relative,” I replied, with maybe a little hint of irritation creeping into my voice. I didn’t like thinking about the town I’d grown up in, nor did I like it when people questioned my decision to leave when I did.

“Fair enough, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.” He raised his hands in a show of backing off, and I immediately felt a wave of regret.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Max smiled, “No, you definitely should have. I need somebody with backbone in your position, especially when it comes to me. I’ve had weak assistants before and it’s always turned out poorly.”

“Why is that?”

He shrugged. “I can be quite demanding, but I try to always be respectful. If I overstep, I need to know. Otherwise I’ll keep doing it without meaning to.”

“Good to know.”

“Indeed. Have you had a good first day so far?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Lots of learning. Everything’s still very new to me though, so if it takes me a little longer than usual to get the hang of things, I apologize.”

“That’s quite alright,” he said. “I’d rather you take the time to get things right than rush through and make mistakes.”

Max leaned forward in his chair suddenly, so that he was over the top of the desk and seemed practically in my face, though he really wasn’t. I inhaled sharply and hoped he didn’t notice. I was trying hard to play it cool and act like being close to him didn’t frazzle every nerve I had, but inside I felt like the physical equivalent of television static. I didn’t know how successful I was being from an outsider’s perspective, but my heart felt like it was in my throat.

“I find it very interesting that Haddie hired someone with such a lack of experience.”

“She must have thought I was qualified enough. I might not have experience in business, but I’ve got tons of experience with people.”

“I’m sensing that about you. What did you do before this?”

Had he even bothered to read my resume at all, or did he just give Haddie carte blanche to hire whomever she wanted? Was that smart? What if I wasn’t qualified at all and she’d made the wrong call?

No. I was meant to be here. This was part of my self-improvement strategy and I deserved to be here. I could do this. I could handle all aspects of this job, including my enigmatic and slightly confusing boss.

“I was a waitress,” I answered, keeping my head high.

“A waitress?” A smile curved lazily on his lips. “Maybe Haddie thinks that’s what I need.”

“What do you think you need?”

The question was out before I had time to think about how it would sound. It was a mistake, especially since the way I said it made it sexually charged somehow, and the glint in Max’s eye told me he’d gotten that impression too. I gulped, throat dry, and decided to stick it out and wait for his response.

“What don’t I think I need?” he replied, leaning back and casually folding his arms behind his head. His shirt was rolled to the elbows after a long day of work, and his tie was a little looser than it had been earlier, giving him the overall impression of being finished work for the day. This conversation felt more casual than it should have been. And definitely more sexual.

Maybe it was just me. Maybe Max thought we were having a completely normal employer/employee chat and wasn’t thinking twice about it. But something about the energy of the room, the way his words tumbled smoothly over seductive lips, made it more than a casual conversation for me. It was tense, but in a different way than I’d ever get reading a thriller. I didn’t want to flip to the end to see how this ended because I was caught up in the rush of the moment. I didn’t want to read ahead only to find out that this delicious tension had been in my head the whole time.

“I can’t say I know you well enough to speculate,” I replied, even though I wasn’t sure if his question was rhetorical or not.

“And that brings us back to square one. Getting to know each other.” Max took a breath, studying me. “Why New York?”

I shrugged. “I liked the idea of becoming submerged in a sea of people.”

That piqued his interest. He grinned slyly. “You hiding from someone?”

“Just one or two members of the mob,” I deadpanned. I didn’t want to admit how close he’d gotten to the mark. “But isn’t everybody hiding from someone?”

Max let his arms drop, sitting up straighter in his chair. His expression had grown sharper. More interested. “I’m not hiding from anybody. What do you say to that?”

“I say you’re either lucky or lying.”

I watched his eyes fall from my eyes to my mouth, and was suddenly so desperate to know what he was thinking about that I would have traded my entire savings account to find out.

“I must be lucky,” he said. “Looks like I’ve got a whip smart new assistant.”

“That’s not luck. You’ve got your old whip smart assistant to thank for that.”

He was clearly amused by this answer, which was a relief. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing in this new world, but so far muddling my way through was working wonders. If only there were an easy solution for dealing my unfortunate attraction to my new boss.

“We’re done for the day. Why don’t you go home a little early, Emma.” The way he said my name sent tingles down my spine. “I’ve enjoyed our little chat.”

“Me too.” I smiled and rose from my chair, feeling oddly like I should be bowing or something. The concept of corporate hierarchies was going to take a lot more getting used to. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it.”

I felt his eyes searing into my back as I walked to the door, and it wasn’t until I was outside that I could breathe again.

I hoped I looked like I had it together on the outside, at least partially, because it felt like I was falling apart. Had he felt that too? The thrumming sexual energy in the air? Was I ridiculous for thinking it had to be more than me and my overactive imagination?

I just hoped that being around Max would get easier, and it wouldn’t always feel like this.

Chapter 6

Emma

“Good morning, Emma,” Max said, strolling past my desk with a smile.

“Good morning,” I chirped back. As soon as he disappeared into his office, I let out a gust of air.

It was now my third day working as Max Westfield’s assistant, and the endless lusting was still an ever-present feature in our working relationship. From my side, at least. I couldn’t help it. What was I supposed to do when he came in looking like he’d walked straight out of an Armani ad each morning? The man was sex on a stick and he knew it. He propelled himself with confidence and swagger, and I was always left bobbing and keeling in his wake.

I continued going through my emails, though there wasn’t much to look at. It was my first day working alone, although Haddie would be in and out for the rest of the week. Then it would just be me and Max. Well, and everyone else in the office, not that I ever remembered any of them existed.

The phone rang, and my hand snatched it up before it could ring again. “Mr. Westfield’s office, Emma speaking.”

“Oh, so you’re the new assistant?”

It was a woman’s voice. An older woman, by the sound of it.

“Yep, that’s me. How can I help you?”

“This is Paulina Westfield,” she replied. “I need to speak to my son.”

“Of course,” I said, nodding profusely even though she couldn’t see me. “Just give me one moment, Mrs. Westfield.”

Haddie had warned me that in the same way Max could be demanding, his mother could be a little overwhelming. Haddie hadn’t said more than that, even though she clearly wanted to.

I buzzed Max on the intercom. “I’ve got your mother on line one,” I told him.

I figured that would be that, and was preparing to dive back into emails. Then he buzzed back.

“Make up an excuse or something, and tell her I’ll call her back.”

I stared at the intercom with a furrowed brow, like Max would be able to tell how I was feeling through the contraption. Make up an excuse for his mother? That was rude. Especially since I now had to cover his ass. What if she didn’t believe my excuse?

I picked up the phone and adopted a strained smile. “Hi, Mrs. Westfield. It looks like I spoke too soon. Max is on a call, but I’ll have him call you back.”

“Of course he is,” Paulina sighed. “He’s a busy boy, that one. Too busy for his poor old mother, anyway. I’ve been interested to see who would take Haddie’s place as his gatekeeper. Tell me more about yourself, dear.”

I had not expected this to turn into a social call and had no idea what to say. Was I supposed to be trying to impress her? Would Max care if his mom didn’t like me? It seemed like a weird thing to be thinking about, considering I was his assistant and not his girlfriend, but I panicked all the same.

“I just started on Monday,” I replied slowly, giving myself more time to think of things to say. “I think your son is very nice.”

Oh God. What a dumb thing to say.

Thankfully, Paulina didn’t seem to think it was a weird at all. “He’s just wonderful, isn’t he? A shame about his manners though. He took those from his father’s side, you see. Anyway, it was lovely catching up with you Emma, but I must be off. I’m sure we’ll meet soon. Ta-ta!”

She hung up before I’d even had a chance to say goodbye. The woman could sure talk fast. I turned my head and stared back at Max’s door. His mom seemed so nice. Why would he blatantly put her off like that?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was good that he had a flaw. This was something I could work with. Sure, he was ridiculously sexy, charming, and my stomach was in knots every time our eyes met, but he was also a bit of a jerk to his mom. She was right about bad manners!

I went back to my work feeling a little better. Max had a flaw. Hooray! I never thought somebody being flawed would give me so much relief. But at least now I had a way to redirect my thoughts about him.

A couple hours later I knocked on Max’s door carrying a few documents that needed his signature. I thought I’d be better able to handle his allure now that he’d been knocked down a peg in my book, but my pulse jumped when I heard his baritone voice telling me to come in.

“I have some things for you to sign,” I said, walking toward him with my hand outstretched. I placed it all on his desk without stepping any closer than necessary.

Max wasn’t dressed down today. His suit jacket was on, tie knotted tight, and he looked ready for business. He bent his head over the papers and signed, passing them back to me a moment later. I turned to leave, but his hand caught my wrist and held me there. His touch seared through my flesh.

“Wait a sec.”

I turned and gave him a questioning look. As he dropped my hand I wondered if he’d felt the burn too.

With a sigh, Max rose to his feet and walked around the desk, leaning against it with his arms folded over his chest. “I’m not an asshole,” he said. “Though I suspect you think I am.”

What kind of statement was that? If I didn’t deny it, then I’d be calling my boss an asshole. I opened my mouth to protest, but he put up a hand to stop me.

“The thing with my mother....” He ran a hand through his hair, smiling coldly. “She’s been relentlessly trying to marry me off lately,” he explained. “Every time I talk to her it’s because she’s arranging a date with this girl or that girl. Sometimes I can deal with her, sometimes I don’t have the time or patience. Does that help a little?”

“I never said you were an asshole,” I replied.

Max pushed off from the desk, rising to his full height. He towered above me, and I had to tilt my chin to look up at him. He was close. So close. And he was single. That was interesting. Not that I was going to date him or anything. Hell, I wasn’t going to date anybody anytime soon as far as I was concerned. Lance had done a number on me and jumping into another relationship would only set me back.

But that didn’t help me suppress the wild thoughts that my proximity to Max had sent swimming through my head. My skin felt like it was on fire, and I couldn’t tell whether a touch from him would bring me relief or make me burn even hotter.

“All the same, I hope that clears things up a bit for you.” Pausing, his gaze flitted over my face again in that way it sometimes did, causing my heart to jump. Then he turned and strode back around the desk.

“Anyway, I figured I should let you know since she’ll probably call fairly often. I’m actually surprised this is the first time she’s called while you’ve been here.”

“Right,” I nodded. “Thanks for letting me know.”

I scurried out of Max’s office and closed the door behind me, trying to think about what this new piece of information meant. On the one hand, it looked like his one flaw wasn’t quite as big as I’d hoped. On the other, Max was single.

‘There’s my working girl!” Willow called out as I walked through the front door.

I grimaced. “I wouldn’t say it exactly like that.”

She was sitting on the couch, her head tilted backward over it as she watched me take off my shoes and toss my keys in the bowl. “How was your day? Slay any corporate dragons?”

I snorted. “I’m the assistant to the CEO, Willow, not the new head of leasing. The only dragon I slayed today was an interfering mother.”

“Ooh, that sounds interesting. Tell me more.”

I sat down on the sofa next to Willow and briefly relayed Paulina’s mission. Willow was making some sort of craft involving feathers and popsicle sticks, and I picked a few feathers off the sofa while I talked.

“So, he’s single?” she said, with a sly look in her eyes.

I laughed, “That was my first thought. But before you say anything—no, I will not be getting involved with my boss. Single or otherwise. I need this job.”

“Yes, of course.” Willow brandished the glue gun in my direction, pointing the silver nozzle at me. “But you can’t blame me for getting a little caught up in it. Your work life is much more scandalous than mine.”

“It’s not even scandalous!” I defended.

Willow winked,“Not yet.”

I groaned and rose from the sofa, stomach gurgling. Willow must have heard it because she called after me, “I was going to make lentils for dinner. Do you want any?”

I made a face, even though she couldn’t see it. Hell, especially because she couldn’t see it. “I’ll pass.”

I was rooting through the fridge, wondering what I could cook that would be the fastest, when my phone rang. I pulled it out, expecting a telemarketer or something along those lines. Instead, Lance’s face filled my screen. The photo was the most handsome one he’d ever taken, and I remembered how I used to get excited every time he called. Now I didn’t know what to feel.

The ringing continued. From the living room, Willow yelled, “Aren’t you going to get that?”

I blinked, realizing I’d been just staring at the phone this whole time. “Yeah. I’m getting it.”

I made a snap second decision not to just let it go to voicemail, although that was probably what I should have done. But seeing Lance calling me disturbed layers of emotions that had been resting somewhat peacefully, if uneasily, until that moment. Now I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. So I just acted.

“Hello?” I answered.

The first thing that hit me was the noise. Wherever Lance was, it was loud. I could hear people shouting in the background over the sound of classic rock and roll. He was at the bar, I realized.

“Babe, hey,” Lance slurred. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Who is it?” Willow called. I ignored her.

“I’m just out with some friends,” he said. “Thought I’d give you a call. I miss talking to you.”

The words hit me like a bullet to the chest, ripping through bone and skin, then lodging right in the back of my spine. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. Hell, I needed to tell him to go fuck himself. Yet I didn’t. I missed him too, even if he had hurt me. Maybe this was just what we needed, a little time apart to see what was important. Maybe—

Willow snatched the phone from my hand and looked at the screen. She had already tapped end before I even knew what was happening.

“Hey!” I protested.

“Don’t hey me,” she said, handing the phone back. “Why did you pick up in the first place? What if you had said something you would regret?”

“Maybe I was about to tell him to stick it where the sun don’t shine.” I raised my chin defiantly.

My best friend fixed me with a flat look. “I find that highly unlikely, given that you looked like your jaw had come unhinged. You were blindsided and you know it.”

I considered arguing with her, but there was no point. “You’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” Willow brightened up. “But hey, think of it this way. Now you are leaving him to stew in what he did. And he’s obviously stewing. He knows he made a mistake, and you get the satisfaction of being the bigger person and moving on before him. Right?”

She clapped me on the shoulder and headed back to the couch.

Just because Willow was right, it didn’t make me feel any better about what just happened. What if he had realized he’d made a mistake? Did that mean there was a chance we’d be getting back together? I couldn’t even decide if that was what I wanted. Yes, he’d been a tremendous jerk to me, but we’d had some really good times together, too. Why did he have to call and stir me up like this?

“Come over here and help me with this,” Willow called. “It’s fun, I promise. Even if one or two of mine did come out a little phallic.”

Chapter 7

Max

Two weeks.

Emma had been working with me for two weeks, and I hadn’t screwed her. Well, not outside of my head, anyway. In my fantasies, we’d done everything there was to do, and then we’d done it again, just because we could. She was quite the little spitfire.

I could hardly congratulate myself for not having sex with my assistant when I’d been having such sordid fantasies about her instead, but I had to give myself points somewhere. Especially since I hadn’t screwed anyone in the past two weeks, which was making my quest for professionalism even harder. I was restless.

Jeremy had a knack for sensing when I needed to blow off a little steam, so I wasn’t surprised when he called on Friday evening and announced that he was on his way over.

“Why would you do something like that?” I asked.

“We’re going out,” he said. “It’s been a long week. I don’t know about you, but I could stand to let off some steam.”

I hadn’t been ‘out’ since my birthday party, if that even counted. I didn’t think it did since I hadn’t been able to relax the entire time. Jeremy was right. I needed to let off some steam.

“Fuck it. Fine.”

“There’s that Westfield enthusiasm I know and love.”

Ten minutes later, I hopped into Jeremy’s cab. He gave the driver directions to a trendy nightspot called Leaf that had just opened a couple weeks ago. I didn’t question his choice. As far as nights out were concerned, Jeremy was the expert. He knew all the hot clubs and bars in the city, and not just the overpriced dives that touted themselves as the best but failed to measure up.

We got in right away, but then again, we always did. There wasn’t a bouncer in New York City that would make Max Westfield or Jeremy Braun wait.

Inside, flashing lights from the ceiling gave the room a pulsing, colored glow. A recessed dance floor was full of sweaty, grinding bodies, and around the perimeter were three floors of balconies, with each floor having its own mini dance floor and seating area. My eyes slipped from body to body, trying to single out the woman who would siphon away some of this restless energy.

“Let’s get a table,” said Jeremy, shouting to be heard over the music. He pointed toward the bottom of the roped off VIP area.

I shook my head, “I don’t want to sit in VIP.”

He gave me an incredulous look, but smiled all the same. “What? You’d like to mingle with the plebeians tonight?” He shrugged, chuckling. “So be it.”

We cut around the outside of the floor until we found an unoccupied table. As soon as we sat down, a waitress bustled over to us, all cleavage and smiles. She’d probably zeroed in on us the moment we walked in. I didn’t blame her, we looked like money, no doubt about that.

Jeremy ordered us each a shot and a beer, then we were alone again.

“You’re looking around the room like it is a menu and you’re nearly ready to order,” Jeremy said. “See anything you like?”

I shook my head and returned my gaze to him. “Nothing yet, but the night is young.”

“Aye, that it is.” He sat back in the chair and turned his eye to the crowd as well. “Your mom set you up with anyone interesting recently?”

“Of course not,” I replied. “None of them are interesting.”

“You won’t even give one a chance?”

It wasn’t like Jeremy to take her side. I crooked an eyebrow, and when he looked back over at me to see why I hadn’t responded, Jeremy broke out into a grin.

“What?”

“My mother’s been at you, hasn’t she?” I asked.

The look on Jeremy’s face said it all. I groaned and scrubbed a hand over my face, wondering if her nightmare of a mission would ever lose steam, or if it was destined only to get worse.

“All she asked was for me to get you to open up to the idea a little more,” he reasoned.

“The idea of marrying some girl my mother chooses for me?” I scowled. “Have a backbone, Jeremy. Christ. She’s like five foot tall, can’t you just tell her no?”

“What’s your excuse?”

I ground my teeth, my stare locked on his. At that moment, our waitress returned with our drinks and slid them onto the table in front of us. I took the shot without waiting for Jeremy.

“I’m all she has,” I growled, after I slammed the empty glass back onto the table. “I have to give her something every once and awhile. She’s lonely. I think part of this is because she thinks I’ll marry a girl who wants to go to her society events and book clubs and whatever the fuck else she does these days. It’s a delicate subject.”

Jeremy’s face softened a little. “Fine. I’ll tell her I’m staying out of it if she asks me again.”

“Good.”

Jeremy did his shot, grimacing throughout. When he opened his eyes again, they snapped open and he smiled. “Hey, remember your sexy secretary?”

“She’s my assistant. And yes, of course I remember her.”

In order to forget her, I would have had to stop thinking about her. That clearly wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“Well it looks like fate has brought you two together on this fine evening.” He nodded his head in the opposite direction, and I turned to follow his gaze.

I saw her right away. It was like she was a beacon amongst a sea of shadows, her red hair catching in the light and flashing like blood. She was wearing a tight-fitting dress that stopped mid-thigh, and her legs were long and lean beyond it. I swiped my tongue across my dry lips and turned back to Jeremy.

“I’ll be right back.” I put my beer down and went to get up, but Jeremy shot out a hand to stop me.

“What are you doing?”

I shook off his hand. “I’m going to invite her over for a drink.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

I ground my teeth. I didn’t like having my ideas questioned.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I would have gone drinking with Haddie. This is no different.”

I wasn’t being fair to Jeremy. I knew this was different, that she was different. Emma wasn’t Haddie. She was like a song I couldn’t get out of my head. They say that the way to get a song out of your head is to listen to it in its entirety. Maybe all I needed to do was remove the novelty factor of my beautiful assistant. Maybe if we spent time together outside of work, she would seem less tempting.

Or maybe it would get worse.

I strode through the crowd, following Emma as she trailed behind a blonde in a flowy, multicolored skirt. The girl she was with definitely didn’t belong here, but it didn’t seem to bother her at all. I caught up with Emma just as her friend was pointing at an empty table near the back. She jumped when I laid a hand on her arm. When she turned, however, she went perfectly still.

“Max.” She blinked, like she thought I was a mirage that would disappear soon. “What are you doing here?”

I smiled, “I came here to relax. Same as you, I imagine.”

Emma glanced back at her friend, who was standing there watching the exchange with interest. The look on her face reminded me a little too much of Jeremy for comfort.

“Why don’t you two come join us at our table?” I asked. “I’d love to buy you a drink.”

“Sure!” the other girl said, sailing up next to me. “We would love a drink.”

I laughed. Emma shot her friend a glare.

“Come on,” I said, gesturing toward Jeremy and the table.

Jeremy forgot all about his worrying the second he set eyes on Emma’s friend. Though a bit of an odd dresser, she was undoubtedly beautiful. Her hair was long and wavy. Tied back in a ponytail, it still skimmed her back, like a golden rope. She clearly noticed Jeremy too, and sat down next to him without any further prompting.

I pulled out a chair for Emma and she sat shyly, looking up at me through dark lashes so sweetly that I pictured claiming her mouth right there. I shook away that thought and sat, and the waitress was on us again the moment I did.

We all ordered more drinks, and I was about to introduce myself to Emma’s friend but stopped when I saw how engaged she and Jeremy were. They were talking in low voices, leaning in close to each other like they were exchanging secrets.

“That’s Willow,” Emma filled in. “She’s my roommate and best friend.”

“Ah.” I relaxed in my seat, draining the rest of my beer. “You’ve already met Jeremy, dog that he is.”

Emma laughed, a pretty tinkling sound. “He’s not so bad.”

“You clearly haven’t spent enough time with him.”

“That’s true. I’m sure I’ll get to know you both pretty well. Haddie seemed to.”

I noticed she was slurring her words the tiniest bit, and it was kind of cute. It was like she had a little bit of a lisp.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll get there.”

The waitress came back with our drinks, and Emma all but snatched hers, downing a mouthful like she was dying of thirst. I quickly realized it was a maneuver meant to stop me from noticing the blush on her cheeks. I liked that I could make her blush. It made the animal inside of me stir, pacing inside my ribs until the day I let it loose. Which would be never, of course. I couldn’t.

But fuck if I didn’t want to.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Emma cocked her head to the side, the lights giving her hair an auburn tint as it spilled over her shoulder.

“Shoot.”

“Why’s your mom trying to marry you off so hard? Are you like secretly a prince or something? Do you have a dynasty to protect?”

I sensed this was the kind of question she would never ask me sober, but I didn’t mind it. In fact, I liked that she was curious about me. I was curious about her too.

“You’re close, actually,” I said, chuckling. “She doesn’t want our family’s assets to go to my cousins when I die, but unless I have an heir, I don’t have anyone else to give it to. Mostly though, I just think she thinks that’s what I’m supposed to do at my age. She can’t fathom the thought that I might have other priorities.”

“And what would those be?” I had her full, rapt attention at this point. I didn’t care if she was getting a little personal.

I scoffed. “Not getting married, for one thing.”

Her expression changed. She sat back and stared at me in disbelief, her nose wrinkling just a little. “You don’t want to get married? Like... ever?”

“Like ever,” I confirmed.

“Why not?” I’d never seen Emma look quite so distressed. Then again, I’d never seen her drunk. “What have you got against marriage?”

“I don’t have anything against it, per se.” I shrugged. “I just don’t believe in it.”

I leaned in closer to her, so that our shoulders nearly brushed. Our bodies were angled toward each other, and she had to tilt her chin to look up at me. She had a light dusting of freckles across her nose and I had the strangest urge to lean in and kiss each one.

“I think you’re jaded,” she said. “Marriage is great.”

“You ever been married?” I cocked a brow.

Emma scowled, “Well, no actually. But I’ve got a Pinterest board with all the ingredients for my dream wedding.”

“Ah, so it’s a wedding you want, not a marriage,” I said wryly. “I would reconsider if I were you. A wedding lasts a day—a marriage lasts a lifetime. Is having a dream wedding worth enduring a terrible marriage?”

Emma’s mouth pinched. “I want a wedding, yes, but that’s because it’s something I can plan without actually having to have a groom. I can’t start dreaming about my marriage until I’ve found the right guy, but when I’m sad I can sit and eat pretzels and plan my dream wedding on Pinterest.”

“What exactly is it about marriage that entices you?”

Emma thought carefully about the question, and I could see her rolling it around in her mind. “It’s about the commitment. I don’t think there’s anything more romantic than committing yourself to another person for the rest of your life. It’s a big deal.” She took a sip of her drink, smiling. “So what exactly is it about marriage that disgusts you so much?”

I supposed two could play at that game.

“It’s not necessarily the idea of marriage itself,” I said. “I don’t believe in the kind of love you’re talking about.”

“First you don’t believe in marriage, and now you don’t believe in love?” Emma sighed dramatically. “What next? Please don’t tell me you think the spirit of the holidays is a sham too. I couldn’t take it.”

My lips curved into a smile, “I won’t tell you then.”

Emma surprised me by reaching across and batting me on the arm. “You’re just a cynic. But even cynics can fall in love.”

We locked eyes for just a little too long. Long enough for me to see the flecks of gold in her irises. Long enough for me to start leaning in toward her without even meaning to.

Then Emma jerked back, her hand reaching into her shirt and pulling out her cellphone. I was about to make a comment about her unusual hiding place, but the drawn look on her face told me it wouldn’t be a good idea.

She frowned and shoved the phone back in her bra, then looked across the table toward Willow. I glanced back, happy to see that Willow and Jeremy were now closer to each other than ever. They were practically rubbing noses at this point.

I didn’t realize until a second later that Emma hadn’t just been checking on her friend. The look she’d tossed them was mournful. I didn’t know what she’d just seen on her phone, but I knew it wasn’t good. Whatever it was, it had changed Emma, and the mood, entirely.

Chapter 8

Emma

From the second Max first came over and grabbed me, I’d been on cloud nine. At first I was a little nervous, sure, but the alcohol soon took care of that. I knew I was saying things I’d probably regret in the morning, but I didn’t care a lick. All I wanted to do was keep talking to him, flirting with him. I loved that women around us were captivated by his dark good looks, but I was the only one capturing his attention. It made me feel special. Even if I only had his attention out of some sort of supervisory courtesy.

And then Lance had to go and ruin everything.

It was one text message, one stupid measly text message. It probably meant nothing to him, but to me it was like a bomb going off.

I miss u.

My heart thumped pathetically, and part of me wanted to run out of this bar right now and go find him. The logical part of me forbade it, and knew it wasn’t right. That side of me knew Lance had callously broken my heart and that he didn’t deserve even a moment of my time. But the other side of me still yearned for him, especially given that the only other guy I had any inkling of a crush on was my completely unattainable boss.

I looked at the text for a couple seconds more than I probably should have, then shoved my phone back into my bra. Max was looking at me, likely wondering what was going on. Across the table, Jeremy and Willow started making out.

My night went from 100 to 0 in the blink of an eye. Now I just wanted to go home.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Max asked.

I looked at Willow again, wondering if I should say something to her about the text. Would she be okay with me dragging her away from Jeremy to do so? Would I be okay with dragging her away from Jeremy? She hadn’t been with a guy in a while, and Jeremy was a pretty prime choice as far as I was concerned. He was smart, handsome, successful, and probably not all that bad a guy if he was close to Max. I was jealous, but I wouldn’t stop her just because I’d received a text message from my jerk of an ex-boyfriend.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“You don’t seem fine.”

I wasn’t. My happy drunk had taken a nose dive into sad drunk, which was only a step away from angry drunk.

“It’s just an ex-boyfriend thing.” I waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Max clearly didn’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me either. I knew that getting into my ex-boyfriend drama with my boss, who I had a crush on, was a bad idea. Willow certainly wouldn’t allow it, but she was a little too preoccupied to notice at the moment. When Max ran a comforting hand down my arm, I broke. I blabbed the whole thing.

“Until about a month ago I was dating this guy Lance. We lived together. One day he kicked me out, said he didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore and that I was no longer welcome in our apartment. Since then I’ve been living with Willow. I haven’t talked to Lance since, except when he drunk dialed me a couple weeks ago and now this…” I pulled my phone out of my bra and showed Max the text.

His mouth drew down into a frown. “The guy sounds like a dick.”

“Tell me about it.” I put the phone back and took a sip of my drink, trying not to stare too mournfully at Jeremy and Willow. It was getting creepy. “We spent two years of our lives together and he just dropped me like a sack of potatoes the first chance he got.”

I watched Max’s jaw tighten and wondered if he was upset on my behalf. The thought that he might be sent a current of pleasure down my spine.

Finally, Max’s jaw relaxed and he smiled. “Fuck that guy.”

“Thanks.” I dropped my chin to look down at my drink, but Max reached out and tipped my head back up. Our eyes locked, and I felt as though I couldn’t breathe.

“No, Emma, really. Fuck that guy. He’s missing out.” Max dropped my chin, but snatched up my hand instead. I was confused for a second, until he stood up and inclined his head to communicate that I should do the same.

“Are you... asking me to dance?” I inquired.

He tugged on my hand. “Come on.”

I stood up and Max practically dragged me out into the mass of swaying, shaking bodies. I had no idea what was going on, but I was willing to put aside my awkwardness and let myself enjoy the moment. How many opportunities would I have to dance with my hot boss? Maybe he was just doing it because he pitied me, sure, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t have fun with it anyway, right?

Max pulled me close and, quite unexpectedly, put a hand on my waist. His other held mine aloft. I looked at him quizzically.

“You do realize this isn’t how people dance in a club like this, right?” I asked.

Max spun me, and I nearly slammed into a girl wearing all leather. When I was back in his arms, his eyes glinted mischievously.

“I realize that,” he replied, dipping low to speak into my ear. “But this is how we’re going to dance. Problem?”

I shook my head, mouth suddenly dry. If he wanted, I’d do the cha-cha up and down this dance floor. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be close to him.

Max rocked me back and forth, side to side, spun me around and round. People seemed to keep clear of us, which was probably for the best. By the second song we were both laughing and being ridiculous. I was having so much fun that I forgot all about Lance, my broken heart, and the laundry list of things I would need to do to feel some control of self once more. I was wrapped in a comforting blanket of Max’s scent, my alcohol buzz, and the possibility of what if. In those precious few moments on the dance floor, everything was right in the world and it seemed like it always would be. The kind of peace I found in Max’s embrace was just as addicting as it was sweet—and it was very sweet.

The song changed again, this time to something with a noticeably darker vibe. The bass came heavy and slow, and people around us swayed with their hands toward the ceiling like barren trees waving in the wind. Max pulled me closer, dropping my hand and placing his on my waist instead. I slung mine around his neck, or at least as close to around his neck as I could get with the height difference.

He didn’t speak, but the fire in his eyes roared at me. My mouth was dry. The room was hot, sweaty. I could feel my shirt sticking to my skin, my hair sticking to the nape of my neck. My body sticking to Max’s.

We were close.

So close.

I swallowed hard and looked away, afraid of the sudden intensity between us. The rest of the crowd fell away, and I looked back to him because I was already missing the heat of his gaze.

His shoulders were hard and muscular, and from this distance I could tell that the rest of him was just as sculpted. My hands longed to slide down his chest, to take his measure right here on the dance floor. It felt like I could, like he wouldn’t even stop me.

I wanted this. I wanted him. I wanted him with every fiber of my being, every cell of my composition. And was I crazy to think that the look in his eyes meant he wanted me too?

A hand on my arm dragged me out of the moment. Literally. I looked to see who’d grabbed me and locked gazes with Willow.

“I’m ready to go home. Do you mind if we leave?”

I wasn’t ready to go. Not even close. My knee jerk reaction was to tell her to go sit down and I’d come find her when I was good and ready, but I knew that wasn’t fair. That was just the lust speaking.

“Sure.” I turned back to Max, who was glaring at Willow. “We’re gonna leave. Thank you so much for the drink.”

“Anytime.”

He still hadn’t dropped my waist, and didn’t until I took a step back. How badly I just wanted to stay there! Why did Willow have to come interrupt us like this?

Willow was already holding our stuff, so we headed for the exit. I waited to question her until we were outside, knowing it was pointless with all the noise.

The night air was as refreshing as a cold glass of water on a hot and sweaty day. If I’d had a glass of water to go with it, I would’ve been set. As it was, I’d have to wait until we got home. We started trekking in the direction of the subway, skirting around the crowd of people waiting to get inside.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

Willow handed me my jacket, but I didn’t put it on. I was too warm to need it. After my encounter with Max, I thought I’d never be cold again.

“You were about to kiss Max,” Willow said. “I figured I should step in.”

A bolt of white hot indignation cut through me and I dropped my mouth open. “What? I was not about to kiss him.”

“Or he was about to kiss you. I don’t know.” She shrugged, tugging on her jacket. “I just know things looked pretty intense.”

My face was impossibly hot. “You think so?”

Willow rounded on me, looking very serious. “Dude! You’re drunk. I know he’s Mr. Hottiepants but he’s also your boss. Remember that. Think about how awful you’d feel in the morning if you made out with your boss tonight.”

She was right. I sighed.

Willow slung her arm over my shoulders and pulled me in tight against her side. “Did you have fun though?”

I nodded. “Lots.”

Probably too much, now that I was thinking about it. Max was probably just trying to be nice, and here was I reading way too much into it and thinking we were having some kind of moment.

As if.

I appreciated him trying to make me feel better, and it had worked, but next time I shouldn’t allow myself to get so sucked into him like that. If we’d appeared to outsiders like we might’ve been about to kiss, that was probably my fault for staring at him all doe-eyed.

Anyway, it was over. Max and I would probably never have another moment like that again, and while the thought made me sad, it was also a bit of a relief. I didn’t think I could be that close to him again and come out intact.

Chapter 9

Max

One second I was lost to the world, hidden behind a wall of bodies while I held the most beautiful girl in the club in my arms. The next second she was gone.

I should have been less annoyed that Emma’s friend had come to steal her away from me. We hadn’t been acting professionally. All I’d wanted was to make her feel better, to wipe the sadness from her face. I couldn’t bear to see her so choked up about some loser who didn’t deserve her. Making her smile was the most intoxicating feeling. I was drunk on her, on the music, on the moment. And then she was gone.

I stood on the dance floor a couple minutes longer than I should have after she left. I needed some time to collect my thoughts. Even though I knew it was wrong, and that I’d probably end up regretting it, I realized something under the flashing neon lights that I knew would haunt me if I didn’t act on it.

I wanted her. I wanted to make her mine.

“Hey!” someone shouted into my ear.

I looked over, annoyed to see Jeremy standing next to me.

“I struck out with that hippie chick,” he said.

“I noticed.” Shoving my hands in my pockets, I began weaving my way back across the floor toward our table. I grabbed my jacket and tossed Jeremy his, draining the rest of my beer as I did.

“We’re leaving?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes.” I left no room for discussion. It was non-negotiable.

Outside, Jeremy kicked a beer can and it went scuttling into the street. “She was smokin’ hot and seemed pretty into me. I thought for sure she was going to come home with me. Remind me to ask Emma what her friend’s deal is.”

“You’re not going to inundate my assistant with your stupid personal questions.”

I hailed a cab, and Jeremy slid in behind me.

“What’s your problem?” he asked. “You’re being a dick.”

I probably was being a dick but I didn’t care. I was irritated. I could have had Emma tonight. It probably wouldn’t have been wise, but wise didn’t factor into it anymore. There was something about her, something so magnetic and beautiful in her innocence. In many ways she seemed experienced, ready to conquer the world, but she was also so soft and vulnerable. I wanted to protect her from the pieces of scum out there like her ex-boyfriend. I wanted to keep her for myself. And at this point, it looked like the only thing stopping me from doing so was my own professional morals. If there was one thing I’d learned about myself over the years, it was that nothing stopped me from getting something I wanted—even myself.

I dropped Jeremy off at his place before heading home. We didn’t speak much on the ride, but that had more to do with the restless energy that had doubled in intensity just below my skin since earlier this afternoon. Being so close to Emma and not having her had only made it worse.

I remembered the way her eyes had filled with such deep sadness when she read that text in the club, and wondered if she could handle my desire. She was already so heartbroken, and I knew I could never give her what she wanted. I could give her what she needed, which was a hard fuck against the wall and my teeth in her neck, but I couldn’t be the groom on her wedding cake. Did it matter? It wouldn’t stop me. Nothing could stop me now.

I started stripping off as soon as I entered my penthouse, dropping clothes down the hall as I went. It was too hot to be wearing clothes, and they itched at my skin something fierce. I imagined how soft her skin would feel, how her body would slide over mine and make me shudder with pleasure. I was naked when I reached my room, and my cock was swollen and throbbing with need. I pictured her as I lay across my bed and started to stroke my erection, imagined it was her mouth swallowing my cock instead of my own hand.

She would look up at me innocently, in that way she always did, but I bet she was an expert cocksucker. If not, I could teach her. She was always so eager to please. My meat was heavy and hot in my hand. I increased the pressure and moved a little faster, and my hips naturally rolled up on the bed as my fantasy Emma sucked me down to the root and held me there, cheeks swollen with my girth. Fuck, she was hot.

My hand went faster, and I pictured her rising up to kiss my chest and straddle me. Her hot pussy sinking down on my cock, gripping so tightly. I moaned, sweat prickling at my forehead. Her breasts would be perfect, round with puffy pink nipples that bobbed above me as she rode me into oblivion. I could almost feel her muscles squeezing me, milking me.

Fuck. Yes.

I was going to cum. Emma was going to make me cum.

My balls tightened, and waves of pleasure buffeted me as I came all over my hand. I kept stroking myself, eking out every last bit of my pleasure. I was shaking, my chest heaving with the force of my breathing.

It wasn’t the real thing, or even close to the real thing, but I would jack off to the thought of Emma any day. I just hoped I wouldn’t be jacking off to the thought of her forever. Sometime soon I would need to taste her, feel her.

Someday very soon.

Chapter 10

Emma

By the time Monday morning came around, I was happy that I hadn’t given in to my desire on Friday. I couldn’t imagine how awkward it would be to come in to work and see my boss, while the same time remembering the way his kiss had tasted. Coming in to work and remembering the way his body had felt under my wandering hands was embarrassing enough.

I didn’t have much time to stew in this embarrassment, however, because as soon as I got to my desk I noticed a big bag of gourmet pretzels sitting on top of my keyboard. I frowned at them, wondering if somebody had misplaced part of their lunch. Then I saw the note.

The little piece of paper was tucked under the corner of the bag, and I lifted it out to read it.

Just in case.

I knew right away that the pretzels were from Max, and was touched that he’d remembered my weird love of pretzels and Pinterest. It was an unexpectedly kind gesture, not because I thought he didn’t have it in him, but because I’d never expected him to take the time to remember something so trivial about me. He was surprising me with stuff like that a lot, lately. I would have never pegged him as a guy who pulled his new, awkward assistant up for a dance to make her feel better about a lousy ex, either. Maybe I needed to re-evaluate how I thought of him.

I turned on my computer and put down my things, moving the pretzels to the side of my desk. I thought about opening them up right then and there, just because I could, but it was the morning and I wanted to save them for their true purpose. I knew that this time when I was sad and eating pretzels while Pinterest-ing, it would take less time than ever to feel better.

I took a few minutes to settle in before I went to thank Max. I was still all fluttery from the dance on Friday, and now that he’d given me such a sweet gift I needed to gather myself a bit before I saw him. I could almost feel his presence behind the heavy oak door of his office. A couple days ago there’d been nothing between us but a few inches of empty air, and now it was like I was extra tuned into him. I wondered if he could sense me too. Was that crazy?

Once I’d set everything up at my desk for the day, I couldn’t put it off any longer. Nervous or not, I needed to go thank Max for the gift. I wanted to go thank Max for the gift. I wasn’t entirely certain what I was going to say to him, but I’d figure it out. I just wanted to see him.

I rose and started walking for the door. My hand was just resting on the handle when I heard a disturbance behind me. I turned out of curiosity and saw an elegant middle-aged woman with dark hair strutting down the rows of cubicles toward me, her heels clicking loudly. She walked with her head held high and her shoulders back, like a true aristocrat, and barely even glanced at the people she passed. The disturbance I’d heard was her kicking a trash can out of her way, evidenced by the little black bin rolling in a semi-circle by the elevator.

She was headed right for me. Or for Max, more likely than not. Was I supposed to stop her? Who was this woman?

I walked back over to my desk, but stayed standing, greeting the woman with a friendly smile. She looked familiar somehow, but I couldn’t place her stormy blue eyes.

“Hello, can I help you?” I asked.

The woman narrowed her eyes and gave me a once over. “You must be Emma.”

I recognized that voice. Instantly, it all clicked in. Who else could this woman be besides Paulina Westfield? I should have known from the way she walked—like she owned the place—and the cloud of expensive perfume now tickling my nostrils.

“Mrs. Westfield, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” I extended a hand for her to shake, which she did with a claw-like grip.

“Likewise, darling. I’ve been looking forward to seeing Haddie’s successor in person. However are you? And please, you know you can call me Paulina. I insist upon it.”

Paulina and I had built quite the rapport over the phone these past two weeks. She’d been calling every couple of days, and loved to chat if her son wasn’t available—which he often was not.

“I’m great, thanks. Did you have a nice weekend?”

Paulina smirked. “You wouldn’t believe the weekend I had if I told you. Let’s just say I’m a little peaky this morning, and that’s the good news. It was a blast though, simply a blast.” She winked. “I’ve come to see my son, though, I’m afraid. Since he rarely takes my calls, I must take matters into my own hands.”

“I’ll go check if he’s available.” I turned and walked to Max’s door, but I realized a moment too late that Paulina was following me.

She cackled. “Oh, no need for that. If he’s not available, I’ll make him available. I brought him into this world. He didn’t get his dreadful manners from me, mind you.”

With that, Paulina cut in front of me and busted into Max’s office. I stumbled in after her, blanching when I saw the look of irritation that crossed Max’s face.

“There is the prodigal son,” Paulina crooned. “Working hard, I see. Do you have anything to drink?”

She made a beeline for his liquor cabinet as I mouthed to him that I was sorry. He merely smiled and shook his head in a bemused fashion. I supposed there was no stopping Paulina Westfield.

I took my leave then, silently pulling the door behind me. I would thank Max after Paulina had left.

Paulina had already started loudly proclaiming the purpose of her visit, before I even closed the door. “I’m setting you up with a lovely girl named Constance Klein for the charity dinner on Friday, and I absolutely will not take no for an answer. She’s beautiful and of course comes from a very good family. You need a date you know and you could...”

Now that the door was closed, the rest of what she was saying became muffled. Not that I wanted to hear any of it, anyway.

What could be more of a reality check than this visit from Paulina? Max would never go for a girl like me. The dancing, the pretzels, it was just him being nice to me. But when it came down to it, Constance Klein was the kind of girl he’d be taking out on a date, not me. I was his employee. Nothing more.

I slumped down into my chair and started working, half-tempted to rip into the bag of pretzels. If only they hadn’t been marred now by my foolish hope. Thank God Paulina had showed up. I had been about to go in there and thank him, and maybe we’d talk about Friday and even flirt a little. And where would that get me?

Heartbroken. Again.

This crush was no good. I needed to put my foot down and stop giving in to the little fancies I had that told me there was something between us. Even if it had felt like there was on the dance floor.

Even if I wanted it more than anything else in the world.

Paulina left about twenty minutes later, in triumph. She chatted with me on her way out, proclaiming that her job there was done, but that she’d see me again soon.

I figured it was best to catch Max just after she’d left, since then he wouldn’t have a chance to get back into whatever he’d been working on. I knocked lightly on his door, and a second later he called for me to come in.

“Hey,” Max greeted, running a hand through his hair. He stood up when I entered and gestured for me to come sit down.

I shook my head politely. “I actually just wanted to thank you for the pretzels.”

All traces of stress eased from his face, and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. My heart thumped. After two weeks of working here, I still hadn’t gotten used to seeing him. I still reacted every time.

“I’m glad you like them. It seemed like the least I could do.” He thrust his hands in his pockets, and nodded in the direction his mother had gone. “She’s something, isn’t she?”

I hadn’t intended to come in for a chat. It was supposed to be an in and out kind of job, wherein I’d thank him for the pretzels and get back to my desk—before I got another woeful reminder that he was so far out of my league we weren’t even playing the same sport. But bringing up his mom had the opposite effect.

I nodded. “Yep, she’s one hell of a lady.”

Max hid his laugh with a cough.

“Well, I better be getting back to work.” I turned on my heel, not waiting to see his reaction.

Starting today, I needed to put more of a professional wall up when it came to Max. It had been so easy to slip into in the kind of casual environment that existed before I got here, to blend in like an extension of Haddie. But I wasn’t Haddie. She didn’t have a crush on Max, and I doubt she’d ever been as close to kissing him as I had been on Friday night. Fool that I was. He wasn’t interested in kissing me, even if sometimes it felt like he was. He was just being a nice guy. The only way I could get that message through to my body, however, was to put him at a distance.

So that was what I was going to do.

Even if it killed me.

Which it might.

Chapter 11

Max

“Yes, Mother. I know which roses to get for a date. I’m not an idiot.”

“Don’t be like that, Maximilian. You know very well I worry about these things. Constance would be a very smart match, and I don’t want you screwing things up by bringing her yellow roses like a cretin.”

I rolled my eyes and crumpled another piece of scrap paper on my desk, tossing it across the room to the waiting recycling bin. It bounced off the side and went tumbling across the floor. Damnit.

“I have to go, Mother. I’m very busy.” I started crumpling another piece of paper.

She sighed, “Yes, I suppose you are. I’ll see you at the dinner tomorrow. Remember to look sharp!”

I mumbled reassurances to her and hung up the phone, throwing the paper toward the basket. This time, it was a perfect shot.

Emma must have noticed that I was off the phone now, as she knocked on my door a second later. I perked up and called for her to enter.

She looked particularly pretty today. Her long brown hair was tied back from her face, but with a couple strands left down to frame her apple cheeks. She was wearing a plain black dress, but the fit of it more than made up for the lack of embellishments. I admired how it tucked in at her waist and curved with the swell of her hips, cinching back in to hug her toned thighs.

Emma didn’t notice me checking her out. She was already walking across the room, her face focused on the paperwork in her hands. She was talking too, but I’d zoned out the moment I saw her.

“Sorry?” I said. “Could you repeat that?”

Emma looked up when she reached the desk and passed me the papers. “Accounting sent these over. They need your approval so they can submit the financials for the quarter.”

“Ah, right.” I smiled. “Thank you.”

Emma nodded and turned. Before she could reach the door, she bent and picked up the paper ball from the ground and tossed it toward the bin. It went straight in, and I saw a victorious smirk on her lips before she turned and continued out the way she came.

A week ago, there would have been a little more back and forth between us. She’d barely talked to me since Monday, and I couldn’t help but wonder if getting her those pretzels had been a mistake. She said she liked them, though, right? Why would she be mad that I bought her pretzels?

It wasn’t the pretzels though. It couldn’t have been. So that left only one other option—she was upset at me for Friday night. That didn’t make sense either. We were having fun, a great time, and even though things had gotten a bit sexual for a while, neither of us actually did anything worth being upset over. We were having fun. Or at least I thought we were having fun.

This was vexing me far more than I would have expected. On top of that, I was pissed off that Paulina had backed me into a corner with the charity dinner. I was expected to go, and since I was already going, there was no reason I couldn’t bring a woman of my mother’s choosing as a date. It wasn’t like I had anyone else to go with.

I leaned back in my chair and sighed, wishing I could take Emma instead. Though sober reflection the morning after our nightclub encounter reminded me that aggressively coming on to my employee could wind up earning me a lawsuit. Although, I still hadn’t given up on the idea of pursuing her.

No, it was more her cold attitude over the past week that had put the brakes on that plan. I’d begun to think that I’d been misinterpreting something from her. It was driving me mad. She was all I could think about, which made the prospect of taking another woman to the stupid thing tomorrow even more unappealing.

Fuck it.

Fuck. It.

I sat forward and jammed my finger down on the intercom. “Emma, can you come in for a second?”

“Of course,” she said back.

I stood up and straightened my tie, walking around the desk to lean on the other side of it. I was going to sort this out once and for all. And I was going to ask her to come to the dinner with me. I didn’t want to go with Constance. I wanted to go with Emma. And I was too old and too fucking successful to not do what I wanted to do.

Emma looked surprised when she entered my office a moment later. I watched her eyes dip to my forearms, where my shirt was rolled to my elbows and my biceps strained against the cotton. A faint blush stained her cheeks. She could pretend to be as cold as she wanted, but her body would always betray her.

“Close the door,” I instructed.

Emma did, but walked only a couple steps further into the room. “What can I help you with?”

Her big golden eyes widened when I pushed off the desk and started walking toward her. She held her ground, even when I got close enough to smell the sweetness of her perfume.

“Do you have plans tomorrow, Emma?”

She swallowed. “Nope. Why? Do you need me to work?”

“I want you to come to the charity dinner with me.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t respond right away. When the eyebrows came back down, they furrowed in a way that made it clear she’d misunderstood my invitation.

“Did Constance cancel on you?” she asked. “I could always call Paulina and arrange another date. Whatever you need.”

“This isn’t about what I need.” I smirked. “This is about what I want, Emma, and what I want is for you to be my date to dinner tomorrow.”

She ran her tongue over her lips and I watched, cock twitching. Her mouth was so plump, so perfect. I wanted to lean down and suck her lower lip between my teeth.

She caught me looking, and the flash of desire in her eyes ignited something in me. Whatever had been her issue this week, she wanted me, probably just as much as I wanted her. And I would make it clear to her that if she came to this party with me, she could have everything she wanted. And more.

“What happened to Constance?” Emma asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing happened to Constance. She’s a nice girl, I’m sure, but she doesn’t suit my needs.”

“Your needs?” Emma scoffed. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

The fact that she was back to being more casual was encouraging. And enticing.

“Maybe ‘needs’ isn’t the right word.” I thrust my hands in my pockets, which naturally curved my body around hers. “I think the word I’m looking for is desires.”

Emma’s breath caught in her throat. “Desires?” she repeated hoarsely.

The air between us was electric. I felt such an intense desire that I thought about scrapping the whole seduction plan and just tossing her onto my desk right now. I wouldn’t care if the whole office heard her moans. I just wanted to bury my cock in her and show her what she did to me every fucking day.

“I desire somebody who I enjoy talking to,” I said, stressing the word desire. “Someone who interests me.” I reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, more because it was killing me that I wasn’t touching her than anything else. She shivered.

Emma cleared her throat. “I think that I...” She paused, seeming to bolster her strength. “I think that I could fulfill those desires for you.”

Oh, could she ever.

My cock strained against the zipper of my pants, and I knew if she looked down she’d notice. I half wanted her to.

“That’s good to hear.” I quirked the corners of my mouth, staring down at her. “You’ve been an excellent employee so far, but I can’t wait to put your other skills to the test.”

“My other skills?”

I paused, letting the innuendo sink in before I answered. “Your social intercourse skills.”

“Right.” She licked her lips again, and I nearly groaned with the effort not to lick them myself next. “I won’t disappoint you.”

“I doubt you could if you wanted to.”

Emma sucked in a breath, and it occurred to me that she’d forgotten to breath. The fact that I’d affected her so heavily only made my arousal stronger.

“I should get back to work,” she said.

“Of course,” I grinned. “I hope I’m not working you too hard.”

She smiled brightly. “Not at all.”

“Good,” I said. “Because I’m going to be working you very hard tomorrow.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open. She slammed it closed a second later, then turned on her heel and headed for the door with a face as red as a raspberry. I watched her go, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

She stopped in the doorway, hand grazing the wooden frame like she needed something to hang onto. “I look forward to it.”

It was only after Emma closed the door behind her that I realized my cock was so hard it hurt. I couldn’t risk getting off here, so I’d have to wait until later to act on my arousal. It occurred to me that today was the last day I’d have of imagining Emma naked, without actually knowing what she looked like naked.

Tomorrow she would be mine. And once she was, I’d make certain that I knew every nook and cranny of her body so that I’d have it burned into my memory forever.

Chapter 12

Emma

“This is so exciting!” Willow said, giggling. “Once a waitress going nowhere, now an executive assistant going to a fancy charity dinner!”

“Hey, I wasn’t going nowhere!”

She waved me off. “You know what I mean. Show me what you’re going to wear!”

I’d gone shopping yesterday after work, still so high on the dark promise of the sexual-tension-laden conversation with Max, that I hadn’t been paying much attention to price tags. I was now the proud owner of a beautiful emerald gown that hung tight to my body to the knee, then flared into a gentle mermaid bottom. I figured I deserved it for all the hard work I’d been doing to get my act together, but I also just wanted to look good for Max.

“Hang on a sec,” I said. “I’m nearly done with my hair and then I’ll change into it.”

“Ooh, the grand makeover reveal!” She sighed dreamily. “I love it. I wish I had your life.”

I laughed and listened to her steps fall away from the bathroom door. I was trying to make the best bombshell curls I could with the limited tools on hand, which included a curling iron from the nineties and an array of all natural hair products.

“Do you want a glass of wine to help with the nerves?” Willow called.

“No thanks!” I called back.

“Okay, well if you change your mind, I’m going to have one.”

I rolled my eyes in the mirror and kept on curling. I still couldn’t believe that tonight was actually happening. Not just the dinner, but the whole enchilada. There was no way that I’d misinterpreted our conversation in his office yesterday. He wanted me, and we had established that I wanted him too. Whether it was proper or not, something was happening tonight. I’d signed myself up for something and I was betting it was going to be one hell of a ride.

We hadn’t had any more sexy chats like that since. In fact, Max had been frustratingly polite, but every once and awhile he’d smile like he was undressing me with his eyes, and I felt just as exposed as if he had been. It was our new game, but the newest one would be the one we played tonight.

Was I ready for that, though?

My phone buzzed on the counter, and I looked down at the screen. A wave of nausea rolled over me and I had to set the curling iron back down on the counter.

Lance had texted me. Dare I read what he had to say? What was it going to be this time—just that he missed me, or something more?

I scowled at my mostly-curled head in the mirror and deliberated whether I should read the text at all. Then I gave in and picked up the phone, unlocking it and holding my breath.

Hey. Can we meet up tonight?

The nerve of him! I hadn’t responded to his text, and I hadn’t called him back after Willow hung up on him the time before. Now he wanted to meet up? I slammed my phone on the counter and went back to my hair.

By the time I finished my last curl a realization struck me. Today was the first time ever that I wasn’t tempted by Lance. I didn’t want to go meet up with him, even though part of me still ached from our break up. It was like he’d been a thorn in my side, and now that the thorn was missing the skin was slowly knitting back together. It felt good.

I smiled confidently, turning from side to side to admire my hair and the smoky eye shadow I’d applied to my lids. I looked good. I would even go so far as to say that I looked good enough to go out with Max Westfield, which was ideal considering he’d be picking me up in less than an hour.

“Are you done yet?” Willow whined distantly. “I’m already a little bit buzzed.”

I laughed and grabbed my phone from the counter, stepping into the hall. Willow had set up camp on the far end of the sofa, which afforded her a view of the length of the hallway.

“I’ll go put the dress on now,” I assured her.

She raised the glass of white wine to her lips and took a sip. “While I’m still young, please.”

The dress was still hung up in the hall closet, next to our winter jackets. I unzipped the cloth cover and pulled it free, then carried it off to the bathroom to change.

Willow was right. This was surreal. Somewhere out there right now, Max Westfield was putting on a tux and adjusting his cufflinks, and he probably had a whole walk in closet to do it in. I had a tiny bathroom and a half-drunk roommate as my audience.

I slithered into the dress and admired the fit in the mirror. Although the lighting in the room wasn’t that great, the beauty of the dress still managed to strike me. It went beautifully with my hair, making the red seem more vibrant somehow. Even if I never wore this dress again, I would still never regret buying it. It was like I was making my debut into a whole new life.

Willow nearly dropped her wine glass when I came out of the bathroom. “Girl, you look hot!” She jumped to her feet, placed her glass carefully on the coffee table, and skipped toward me. “Do a spin!”

I did, adding a little flair just for her.

Willow clapped. “That dress looks incredible. You look incredible. I’m so freaking jealous it’s crazy. I should have thought more about the possibilities for swanky events when I was picking a college major. A fancy dinner beats wrangling five year olds any day.”

I hadn’t quite told Willow what I expected to happen tonight, because I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t sure whether she would approve or not.

Who was I kidding? She definitely wouldn’t approve. She’d all but dragged me off of him that night at the club.

I wanted to share my nervousness and excitement with her, but didn’t know how to approach the topic. I decided to start on a high note.

“I got a text from Lance while I was in the bathroom,” I said.

Willow’s expression immediately softened. “Aw, hon, I’m sorry. Don’t let it ruin your special night.”

“No, it’s fine.” I smiled. “I’m fine, actually. He’s a jerk and I realize that now. I’m not going to let him ruin the night because I’m not going to think about him anymore. I’m ignoring the text message. He is no longer a welcome part of my life.”

Willow pumped her fist in the air and strode back over to her wine, raising it in a toast to me. “I’m so proud of you! I know how hard this has been.”

“Thanks, Willow.”

She tipped the glass back and finished its contents, wiping her mouth afterward with a mischievous grin.

A loud buzzing sound drew both of our attention to the bathroom, where I’d left my phone.

“You don’t have to get that,” said Willow, clearly thinking it was Lance calling.

“I don’t think he’d call that soon after texting me,” I said. “He was always nearly impossible to get a hold of when we were together.” I started walking down the hall.

“Guys act crazy when they feel rejected though,” she called after me.

I didn’t recognize the name on the caller ID, so unless it was Lance and he was using somebody else’s phone, I figured it was safe to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Emma Valentine?”

“This is her.”

I didn’t recognize the man’s voice, which always made me nervous.

“Hi Emma, this is Fred Jefferson from Grantham Property Management, how are you doing today?”

Grantham Property Management. Where had I heard that name before?

Willow had migrated over to the bathroom to listen in on my call, and I saw her trying to figure it out too. Suddenly, it hit me.

“Fred! Hi,” I said enthusiastically. “It’s great to hear from you. What can I do for you?”

Grantham Property Management managed a building whose waiting list I’d applied to when I first moved in with Willow. I’d been looking for a place sporadically, but it was expensive in the city and nearly impossible to find an open place. Hearing back from Grantham could mean the search was over.

“I’m just calling to let you know that we’ve had a unit open up in our Herrick’s Cross building. You’re next on the waiting list, so I wanted to know if you were still interested.”

My mouth split into a wide grin. “Yes! Absolutely! That would be amazing!”

Fred and I made arrangements for me to come view the unit over the weekend, but that was merely a formality. I told him I’d take whatever they had that came available, and I was thrilled to realize that by the beginning of next month I’d have my own place. No more sleeping on the couch, no more inconveniencing my best friend.

Willow crushed me in a hug the second I hung up the phone. “That’s so exciting!” she said. “I’m going to miss you so much though. Are you sure you don’t want to wait another month?”

I laughed, patting her on the back. “Not if it would mean missing out on an opportunity to rent in Herrick’s Cross. It is by far the best building in my budget.”

She sighed, “I know. I’ve gotten so used to you being here though, you know?”

“I know.” I squeezed her, making her giggle. “You know what? I think I’d like that glass of wine now.”

“On it.” Willow backed out of the hug and was halfway to the kitchen before my arms even fell to my side. I followed her, clutching my phone in my hand in case anybody else wanted to call and give me amazing news.

Willow handed me a glass of wine in the kitchen and refilled her own. I thanked her, and once her glass was full we clinked them together.

“To fresh starts,” I said.

“To fresh starts.”

We drank, and only then did it hit me how nervous I was for the evening ahead. Hearing this news about the apartment had made me crazy happy, but I was also crazy nervous about tonight.

“So there’s one thing I didn’t tell you about when Max asked me to be his date tonight,” I said.

Willow noticeably perked up. “Go on.”

“There was kinda the implication that I’m not going as his assistant.”

“Then what would you be going as?”

I gulped. “You know. His date. His actual date, who may or may not end up in his actual bed… uh… later on.”

Willow narrowed her eyes, lips pursing together to create a truly terrifying stare.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

She chugged back a gulp of wine. “God. Is that a good idea?”

I was glad she hadn’t already gone into a tirade about how it was a terrible idea. Maybe that meant she would come around to the notion.

“We’re two consenting adults,” I said. “Just because we work together shouldn’t mean that we can’t engage in the kinds of activities that two consenting adults might engage in together.”

She eyed me warily. “As long as you know what you’re doing, babe. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I didn’t want to see me get hurt either. I rode so high when I was with Max that I knew I was only a stumble away from a long and unpleasant drop. That was a fact that I had come to terms with somewhat. I still worried, of course, but something inside me said that if I didn’t do this, I’d regret it forever.

The buzzer rang and I jumped, wine sloshing out the side of my glass. I hastily tucked the glass onto the counter and ran to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Max.”

“I’ll be down in just a minute,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as stressed as I felt.

I took one last look in the mirror before I left, making sure everything was perfectly in place. I looked great, and was just hoping Max thought so too.

“Knock ‘em dead, tiger,” Willow said, already drinking my wine.

I gave her a thumbs up and left, taking the elevator down and then walking out the front door of the building. A limo was idling at the curb, and Max was standing beside the open back door. His eyes snapped to me as soon as I walked through the door, and I watched him drag his gaze hungrily up the length of me.

“You look incredible,” he said, in a smooth and sexy voice.

I checked him out as I approached, admiring the fit of his tux and the way he managed to still look somewhat roguish, even in black tie.

“You too,” I replied.

Max offered his hand to help me into the limo, and I took it shyly.

Good or bad, things would never be the same after tonight.

Chapter 13

Max

I nearly told the limo driver to go park somewhere secluded for twenty minutes so I could sample Emma before the dinner, but it would be rude for us to show up late. I couldn’t even remember the name of the organization hosting the event, or what my money was going toward, but I almost never did these days. Paulina was always signing me up for this or that, and I always went, even if I didn’t always enjoy it. Tonight, however, I had a hunch I would enjoy it very much.

Emma looked positively stunning. The green in her dress clashed violently with the red of her hair, somehow making her seem all the more vibrant. Her hair curled over the tops of her breasts, just brushing the neckline of her dress, and it looked all silky and smooth. She had managed to surprise me, yet again. Emma was full of surprises.

“Thank you again for inviting me,” she said, as I climbed in the limo after her and closed the door. It was exactly the kind of cute, innocent thing she would say. I couldn’t wait to see how deep her innocence went.

I settled onto the seat next to her and leaned forward to grab the champagne from the ice bucket, pouring us each a glass.

“No, thank you,” I said as I held my glass up to hers, capturing her gaze. “This will be the first of these events I’ve attended in a long while that won’t have me bored to death.”

She chuckled. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh yes, Emma girl,” I said huskily. “Yes, I most certainly do. I know it very well.”

Her pupils widened, and that simple evidence of her desire sent a zap of pleasure straight to my balls. God, did I have to wait until later? I should have come early. I would have, if I’d only known how irresistible she would prove to be, or that I’d have a raging hard on the second I laid eyes on her.

We clinked glasses and drank. I soon became distracted by the long line of her throat, so pale and creamy. It was going to be a long night, but for a different reason than it ever had been before.

This was something I would enjoy.

“That’s exactly what I thought,” said Emma, smiling at the woman while balancing hors d’oeuvres in one hand and her wine glass in the other. “It was a great read though, despite all the problematic elements.”

The woman Emma was talking to, a powerful oil baroness on the East Coast, nodded along approvingly. “I dare say it was. I’m glad I had someone to talk this out with. I thought I was going crazy.”

I had no idea what the women were talking about. Some book that they’d both read, apparently. I’d gotten distracted at the start of the conversation by Emma’s face transforming with excitement, and hadn’t checked back in until they were already discussing the characters.

I was quite happy to stand there and mingle without having to speak. I always spent these entire events talking, and only now did I realize that it was because my dates never had a word to contribute. Emma wasn’t like that. She had found common ground with every person to whom I’d introduced her, especially Greta Holbrook, her new best friend.

“Did you hear he’s writing another?” Greta said.

“I thought he told everyone the story was finished?”

The older woman winked. “I know someone who knows someone in his inner circle. It’s going to be a big surprise, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t wait!”

I let the hand resting on Emma’s curved back slide just a little bit lower, watching in amusement as the hairs on her arms stood up and took notice. I was having trouble keeping my hands off of her, and teasing her this way allowed me to get my own way—while not getting it at all.

Emma had impressed me tonight, both as an employee and as a date. She fit in well, even though I could tell she was out of her depth comfort-wise. She was putting in a real effort to do a good job, and it showed. And as she loosened up a little after the first glass or so of champagne, I could tell she was having a great time. We both were.

“I must get back to my table, I’m afraid,” said Greta, placing a regretful hand on Emma’s forearm. “I do hope we get another chance to chat before the end of the evening.”

“Me too!” Emma beamed. “It was great to meet you.”

“And you as well, darling.”

Emma turned to me as Greta walked away, batting at my hand playfully. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“There’s no law against wandering hands.”

Her cheeks, already a little flushed from the wine, went just a shade more crimson. “Should we get to our table too? I think they’re about to serve.”

“Truth be told, I’m not much interested in dinner,” I replied, leaning in low to whisper in her ear. “I’m more interested in dessert.”

Emma was now beet red, and I laughed as I put my hand on her waist and guided her to our table. This sexual tension between us was delicious, especially since I knew we’d break it tonight. In only a few hours I’d finally have her. Claim her. Maybe afterward I’d be able to go two hours without thinking about her.

“I didn’t know you were such a little charmer,” I said. I pulled Emma’s chair out, and she bowed her head and sat.

“I bet there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

I grinned and took my seat. The hotel’s conference room had been decorated minimally, since it was already a grand room on its own. Each table was covered with a white linen tablecloth and a unique custom glass centerpiece was displayed on each one. They would be auctioned off at the end of the dinner. Maybe I’d buy one as a souvenir of tonight.

“Tell me more, then,” I said, nudging her shoulder with mine. “I want to know all about you, Emma Valentine. You’re a mystery to me.”

She snorted. “Me? A mystery? The only thing mysterious about me is how I got hired at your company.”

“That is not a mystery at all. Haddie liked you and thought you’d be a good fit. She was right.”

Emma’s eyes filled with warmth. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so.” I took a long drink of my wine, holding her gaze. When I lowered my glass, she licked her lip absentmindedly, like her mind had gone somewhere sordid.

“Tell me more about you,” I repeated. “Tell me what makes you tick.”

“You’re quite demanding, you know that?”

I chuckled. “Baby, you have no idea.”

We hadn’t even kissed yet and already I couldn’t keep myself from teasing her. Tempting her. She reacted exactly how I knew she would, by breaking our stare and reaching for her wine glass.

“I grew up in Illinois,” she said a moment later. “My dad worked in a factory and my mom stayed at home.” She shrugged to top it off.

“Any siblings?”

Emma swallowed, then nodded slowly. “I had a brother. Older by a few years. He died when I was little though, so I never really got to know him.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, covering the hand sitting next to her plate with mine. “That must have been hard.”

“It didn’t have to be,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. She seemed to shake herself, then her smile returned. “What about you? You’re an only child, right?”

I nodded. If she didn’t want to talk about her family right now, I understood, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious.

“I’m sure my mother wanted a long line of sons and daughters to marry off into various business alliances, but she was unfortunate and only ever had the one.”

“That must be why she dotes on you so much,” Emma teased.

“Dotes on me? You and I must have a very different understanding of the word doting.”

Emma laughed. “I get being frustrated by how much she tries to interfere in your life, but I truly believe she’s doing it because she loves you. That’s just how she shows it. I would’ve loved for my mom to take such a positive interest in my dating life.”

She blanched a little, and I got the impression she didn’t mean to talk about her mom. I didn’t want to push her, as I could tell the topic made her uncomfortable. Another time, I decided.

“Enough of my mother’s talents for meddling,” I said lightheartedly. “I want to know if you have any hidden talents.”

The lick of innuendo in my tone swung the mood back into happier territory, and Emma grinned.

“What you see is what you get with me, I’m afraid.”

“So your talents are scanning documents with surgical precision and licking envelopes?” I asked.

Emma rolled her eyes. On stage, someone approached the microphone, and for a moment we were forced to listen as the MC announced to the room that the food was on its way out.

Once the servers started circulating with the first course, Emma revealed a little more.

“I used to really like drawing,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to get back into it.”

“What’s stopping you?”

She took another drink of her wine, and I admired how elegant her hand looked clutching the glass. “I haven’t had the time, you know? And I used to have all these expensive pencils and paper and everything, which I know of course that I don’t need to draw, but I miss using them. I guess it’s a little daunting for me to get started again from nothing, so I just haven’t.”

A server came by and slid a salad down in front of each of us. Emma picked up her fork and started stabbing at it, but I was still too engrossed in this new detail.

“Why did you stop?”

Emma stabbed a little harder at her salad, spearing several pieces of cucumber and tomato in one go. “My ex used to tell me I didn’t have enough talent. It got to the point where every time I picked up a pencil I’d hear him in my head and get all embarrassed. It was stupid of me to stop.” She shoved the forkful in her mouth and started crunching through it with a vengeance. “It was stupid of me to stay with him so long, now that I think about it. Lance throwing me out was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

My blood boiled. I couldn’t believe somebody would treat Emma like that. It wouldn’t matter if she was the worst artist in the world, Lance had no right to discourage her like that.

“That guy is a dick,” I told her. “I’m sorry you had to put up with that, but I’m glad you’re done with him now.”

She smiled, “Me too.” A second later, she added, “And hey, I’m moving into my own place at the end of the month. It’s just a little shoebox, but it’s all mine. I’m moving forward, and that’s all that matters to me now.”

She munched away happily from then on, talking about everything from the curiosities she’d found in Willow’s fridge over the past few weeks, to how much she adored the latest season of Game of Thrones. It was so easy to talk to her, especially now that she wasn’t too nervous to speak freely. Hadn’t I said that once she opened up a little, she’d be great? I was right.

There were speeches after dinner. Lots of them. I was just about to start messing with Emma under the table to amuse myself when the last speaker finished to a round of relieved applause. The MC came back to announce that the dance floor would be opening soon, and I grinned wolfishly at Emma.

She laughed. “Oh no, I don’t think we can do the same kind of dancing that we did last weekend.”

“Who says?”

“I say.” She put her nose in the air. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

I chuckled and grabbed Emma’s hand anyway, pulling her upright. “We’re going to the dance floor. If you won’t dance with me the fun way, I suppose I’ll just have to take you the old-fashioned way.”

I let the innuendo settle as I led her out to where couples had begun milling at the front of the room. The band introduced themselves then started into an old rock classic. The middle-aged couples surrounding the floor went wild. I went to dive in, but something caught my attention at the other side of the room. Not something.

Someone.

“Shit,” I winced.

“What is it?” Emma asked, eyes wide with concern.

“Constance Klein is over there,” I told her, angling our bodies away so she wouldn’t see us. “From what I understand, she didn’t take me ditching her with as much grace as I would have hoped.

Emma’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “Oh no! What do we do?” Then, a flash of mischief in her eyes. She grabbed my hand. “Come with me.”

I was surprised by her sudden handling of the situation and wanted to see what she had in mind. She zigzagged through the room, stopping at a pair of French doors at the far end and testing the handle. It wasn’t locked.

“Awesome,” she said triumphantly, opening the door just wide enough for us to slip through.

The door led to a balcony that overlooked a wide boulevard and the glass skyscrapers across from us. It was still a little chilly this early in the season, and I shrugged out of my jacket and placed it around Emma’s shoulders.

“Thanks,” she murmured, tugging it close around her shoulders.

I was surprised more people weren’t out on the balcony, but happy about it all the same. I’d been wanting to get Emma alone all night.

Emma turned and walked to the railing, resting her hands on the smooth stone. I walked behind her, staggering my palms on either side of hers so that my chest was pressed tight against her back. She fell into me almost instinctively, and I leaned down to press my nose against her hair. She smelled fresh and earthy, like a forest after a cleansing rainfall, but sweeter. I trailed lower, moving aside her hair to give me access to her throat. Emma let out a tiny gasp as my lips brushed over her skin, raising gooseflesh in their wake.

“Max...” she whispered.

“Yes?”

She took a breath. “Is this a bad idea?”

My deep laugh rumbled through both of us. “If it was, would you ask me to stop?” I circled her waist, splaying my palms against her stomach and tugging her back hard.

She shivered, and I kissed the curve of her neck, nibbling on her sweet skin.

Emma sucked in a ragged breath. “No.”

“Hmm?”

“No, I wouldn’t ask you to stop,” she said. “I don’t think I could.”

“Good,” I whispered. “I don’t think I could either.”

I couldn’t wait any longer. I turned Emma in my arms and pressed her back against the railing, as if I needed to hold her in place so she wouldn’t escape. Her hands gripped the front of my shirt, pulling me closer still.

I leaned in, and finally got my first taste of those decadent lips. She tasted like wine and sweetness, the delicate mingling of her innocent personality and her womanly desires. I parted her lips and probed with my tongue, seeking entrance. She opened up for me like a flower, and from that moment I knew she was mine.

Our lips and tongues dance fervently, passionately. I sucked on her bottom lip and made her moan, which was the sexiest damn thing I’d ever heard in my life. She was putty in my hands and I couldn’t wait to mold her. I couldn’t wait to bring her such earth-shattering pleasure that she’d never forget tonight or me, or the way I held her like she was everything.

She nipped at my bottom lip, and it surprised me so much that a deep growl vibrated through my chest. My cock was stiff and ready in my pants. I could fuck her out here, right in the open. I bet nobody would know, and it would be hot as hell. Too bad I wanted to take my time with her for the first time. She was uncharted wilderness that I was eager to explore, and this balcony wasn’t the right venue to do so. It was, however, perfect for this kiss, this release of our desires. She wasn’t holding back anymore and neither was I, and I wanted her to know that.

I wanted her to taste my hunger, a hunger only she could taste.

It was a good thing I hadn’t decided to give in to my urges, however, because at that moment the French door creaked open and we were no longer alone.

Chapter 14

Emma

My head was spinning. Never before had a kiss made me so dizzy, or sapped so much of my mental ability. I clung onto Max not just because I wanted to, but because I thought I might fall into oblivion, my own personal rabbit hole of sexual need, if I didn’t.

I barely registered that other people had emerged onto the balcony, but it suddenly explained why Max had stopped kissing me. He was looking behind him at who’d interrupted us, but he turned to me a second later with a devious smile.

“Want to get out of here?” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.

I nodded weakly, still lacking the capacity for words.

Max backed away, offering his hand. I took it gratefully and let him lead me back inside and to our table, where I’d left my clutch. Willow had texted me about a million times so far, but I hadn’t answered any of them and I got the impression I wasn’t going to get the chance anytime soon.

I still couldn’t believe Max had kissed me. Well, I could since he’d been less than furtive about his intentions all evening, but still. Max kissed me.

Max Westfield, billionaire CEO and charming playboy, kissed me, Emma Valentine, recent singleton, but at least no longer homeless.

And God, was it ever good! He kissed like he’d been born to, like it was his God-given mission to kiss the living daylights out of every girl he met until their lips were numb. It was so surreal that I spent the entire walk to the front exit processing it. When I found myself standing in front of our limo once again, the reality of the situation hit me hard.

I didn’t so much slide into the limo as I did float into it, followed closely by Max, who snuggled right up to me on the seat and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I was still wearing his jacket, and I hoped I never had to take it off. It was warm, it smelled like him, and I felt special wearing it. I wasn’t his assistant anymore. I mean, I still was, but in this moment in particular I was his date. Full stop. Not his date who also happened to be his assistant—just his date.

And damn, did it feel good.

The car began to move, and Max looked down at me with a sexy smile. “You’re an unexpectedly good kisser,” he said.

“Unexpectedly?” I asked, my voice laden with indignation.

He laughed. “I just mean that you seem so innocent. Then you kiss like you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I do, thank you very much,” I said, sticking my nose in the air. I was secretly delighted by his compliment, but there was no way in hell I was going to show it.

“I hope there’s still room for me to teach you a few things.” Max’s breath tickled my ear. He leaned in even further, nibbling on my earlobe. I let out a quiet moan.

“I’m sure we can perform an exchange of knowledge,” I said. “That sounds... good.” I moaned again as he blew cool air onto the spot he’d kissed. “So good.”

Max angled my face toward him and kissed me, hard and deep. Once again I was swept along by the moment, by the feel of his lips roughly dominating my own. His stubble scraped my cheek, tickling me, adding to the flurry of sensations I was experiencing.

His hand found the hem of my skirt and hiked it up, exposing my legs to the tops of my thighs. My breath caught when his fingers trailed along the exposed skin, taunting me. Teasing me.

“I don’t think I can wait until we’re back at my place,” he said. “I’ve waited long enough.”

I nodded feverishly. “Yes. Please.”

I didn’t know what I was begging for but I knew that I needed it. Max dove into my neck, kissing along the crook of my throat as his hand slid under my dress, inching toward my throbbing sex. I already knew that my panties were soaked, and when he brushed the pads of his fingers across them and made that discovery for himself, he growled.

“Fuck Emma, you’re so sexy.”

I bit my lip to keep from moaning and arched my hips up reflexively, urging him to take his exploration deeper.

Those talented fingers dipped under the top of my panties, sliding along my wet seam before plunging between my folds. I cried out at the unexpected wave of pleasure that hit me, rolling my hips again, this time easing his fingers further inside of me. His thumb stroked my clit, and his mouth trailed hot kisses along my jaw that left me gasping for air.

“Your pussy feels so good on my fingers.” He captured my bottom lip and bit down hard enough to send a jolt of delicious pain through me. “I can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.”

Lance had never talked dirty to me in bed before. I hadn’t thought I liked it, but somehow when it came from Max it was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced. I didn’t know what to say back, but I couldn’t speak anyway. All I could do was moan.

“Does that feel good baby?” Max asked, even though he knew it felt amazing.

“Yes,” I sighed. “God yes.”

Max rewarded me by sinking another digit into my heat, stretching me further. I couldn’t help myself from moving against his hand. I was lost in a spiral of pleasure, and the only way out was up. And hell, I was on my way up.

Max’s mouth covered mine again. He kissed me slowly, like he was sucking nectar from my lips. I opened up to him and buried my hands in his hair, holding him tight to my face and refusing to let go.

I was overcome with sensations. The world around me narrowed down to Max’s mouth on mine, his fingers stroking me, his other arm anchoring me against him like I might try to go and he might try to stop me. It was so hot, so unlike anything I’d ever experienced, that I could already tell I was going to climax just from his fingers.

I had to break the kiss just to breathe, as the current of feeling swelled and I went under. I screwed my eyes shut, mouth falling open in a silent scream as the first wave of pure pleasure hit me like a semi. I curled forward around Max, resting my head against his shoulder as the waves kept coming, hard and fast. It was so good that I wanted to cry.

Max slowly retracted his hand while I recovered, pulling my dress back down and hoisting my legs up and onto his lap. I looked up to question what he was doing, but he was already pulling me over to cradle me in his arms. I fell back against his shoulder, overwhelmed by both pleasure and the sweetness of his gesture. He kissed me lightly on the lips, and I could feel his smile.

“I hope you’re not too worn out for more,” he murmured.

I laughed. “Not even close.”

“Good, because I’m not even slightly finished with you.”

“I can tell,” I said, wiggling my butt against his rock hard bulge. Christ, he felt huge. Was there anything Max Westfield didn’t have going for him?

He groaned, a deep husky sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Careful, baby. I don’t want the first time I fuck you to be in the back of a limo, but you’re testing my restraint.”

I liked that I was testing his restraint. I liked that I had that kind of power over him. He was the most powerful man I knew, and yet I was reducing him to his baser nature using just my body. I’d never felt so powerful and alive. And I’d never been so turned on.

“How much further is it to your place?” I asked.

“Good question.” He leaned over to the window and looked out, squinting against the tinted glass. Then he swore. “I forgot to tell the driver we weren’t going back to yours first.”

“That’s okay. I wouldn’t mind changing out of this dress.”

“Absolutely not.” He gave me a hard look. “I will personally be taking that dress off of you or it won’t be coming off at all.”

My heart picked up and I couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping my lips. “Yes, sir.”

“If you’d like to grab anything else though, I will permit it.”

“How kind of you.”

“I aim to please.”

I sighed happily. “You certainly do.”

When we rolled up in front of Willow’s apartment building a couple minutes later, though, my good mood quickly evaporated.

“No,” I said. “No, no, no!”

“What?” Max followed my gaze to the window.

I couldn’t see for sure who it was standing just outside the apartment complex, but I would recognize that tall lanky frame from anywhere.

“It’s my ex-boyfriend.” I disentangled myself from Max’s lap. “The famous Lance.”

Chapter 15

Max

Emma practically leapt out of the car, not even waiting for the driver to come open the door. I cursed and followed her, wishing I’d just remembered to tell him to go straight back to my place. I was an idiot. Now look what had happened.

I followed after Emma, stopping just outside the limo and giving the guy she was storming toward an incredulous look. That was Lance?

He was tall, probably nearly as tall as me, but barely half as wide. Either he’d never filled out after high school or was living proof that they still used the rack as a torture device. I found myself wishing for a strong breeze to take him out of the equation so I could get back to the way things were before his sudden and decidedly unwelcome arrival.

I could see what he might have to offer besides being able to serve as a decent scarecrow stand in, as he wasn’t a bad looking guy. His dark hair was cut stylishly, framing his male-model cheekbones and well-defined jaw. I still thought Emma was way out of his league, but I’d been picturing him as a literal troll this whole time, so it was a step up from that.

“What the fuck is this?” Lance yelled at the approaching redhead. He pointed to me, to the limo, then to the dress she wore. “Have you started escorting now, huh?”

Then again, maybe he was a literal troll.

“Hey!” I yelled, already striding toward him. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that.”

Emma spun on her heel and put a palm up to stop me. “I’ve got this Max. Please.” She turned back to Lance, who she now stood a few feet across from, and leveled an accusatory finger at him. “As for you, how dare you talk to me like that!”

“I call it like I see it, toots,” he sneered. “It’s not my fault I came over here to talk, only to have you show up in a limo like some sort of kept prostitute.”

“I said don’t talk to me like that!” Emma snapped. “You broke up with me, remember? Did you think I was going to sit around and wait for you to change your mind?”

I liked Emma standing up for herself. Lance, on the other hand, did not. I could tell by his expression that he’d expected her to take whatever punishment he meted out. It was clearly how their relationship had worked before. I couldn’t imagine him being any less of a dick than he was being now, and wondered why Emma hadn’t been the one to make the break. Either way, I was happy that she was finished with him.

“I expected you not to get down like a wanton hussy the moment my back was turned,” Lance hissed.

I rolled my eyes. “Toots? Hussy? Where the hell did you find this guy, Emma? The 1920s?”

Both Emma and Lance glared at me. Emma’s glare was colored by a hint of amusement. Lance’s was absolutely riddled with hatred.

“Why are you still here? Go home,” Lance said, trying his best to intimidate me.

“He’s here because I want him to be,” Emma replied. “And as far as you’re concerned, well... you’re not. This has nothing to do with you and I think you need to leave.”

Lance’s face took on an even darker cherry shade. He gritted his teeth, looking back and forth between Emma and me while he mulled this over. Clearly, the guy had come here with some sort of intent and I was messing up his plans. Good. He was messing up mine, too.

Lance turned his body away from mine, like he could ignore my very presence if his back was to me. Even though he spoke a little quieter, I could still hear his pleas.

“Em, please. Just talk to me a little, okay? I’m sorry about what I said. I just wanna talk.”

Emma’s gaze flashed over to me and I made a show of looking elsewhere. She could handle this. I wanted more than anything to grab Lance by the collar and toss him out onto the street, but that wouldn’t endear Emma to me. I wasn’t going to leave her either, though. Not with this guy. He was wound up like a spring and I didn’t trust him not to do something rash.

“This is not a good time,” she said. “And after the way you’re acting, I don’t think any time is a good time. The things you’ve said tonight are a good reminder of how you treated me while we were together.”

“I treated you like a princess!”

Emma snorted. I chuckled a little too, because she looked like an actual princess right now and that was all my doing. I highly doubted Lance ever treated her half as well as I did, and I was only just getting started.

“Rather than trying to work on our relationship, you opted to toss me out like a bunch of expired produce,” she said, levelling an accusing finger at him. “You always criticized my weight, how I dressed, and the fact that I never went to college. And now that you’ve noticed I can get along just fine without you, you’ve come over out of the blue to try to make sure I don’t get too comfortable and to reassure yourself that I need you. Well guess what, Lance.” Emma crossed her arms, and the expression on her face was truly daunting. “I don’t need you. In fact, you’re just the opposite of what I need.”

“You’ve always needed me,” he sneered.

She laughed. “Wanting and needing are two different things. And yeah, I wanted you, but I don’t anymore. You make me sick.”

Her words hung in the air, and I felt like breaking out into applause. If I hadn’t wanted Emma before, seeing this would have put me over the edge. She was fearsome and fearless, and her beauty suited such savagery. She was a funny, quirky girl who liked to eat pretzels and look at wedding dresses for fun, but she could also stand up to a bully like a world class fighter. I was more desperate than ever to get her back in the limo and naked as soon as possible.

Lance exploded. “You filthy trollop! Of course you don’t want me anymore. You probably get way more money from sucking that guy’s dick than you ever did waiting tables. I’m surprised he even wants you. You’re a disgu—”

Lance didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. He might have, if my fist hadn’t collided with his nose so hard that I heard it crack. Warm blood spurted over my fist, and I shook my hand in disgust.

Emma ran up to me, eyes wide with horror. “What the fuck, Max?”

“Not quite the thank you I was expecting,” I said dryly.

“Not quite the... are you fucking kidding me?”

Apparently she hadn’t turned off her Amazon death glare yet, as I now felt the full brunt of it.

“God damnit!” Lance yelled, still staggering with his hand over his nose a few feet away. Blood oozed through his fingers, dripping all over the sidewalk. It was a sight worth smiling over.

Emma walked toward Lance, but didn’t get close. “Is it broken?” she asked.

“I don’t fucking know! I’ve never had a broken nose before.” His voice came out nasally and thick, like he had a bad cold. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You should go to the hospital,” she said. “I’ll give you some money for a cab.”

“Are you going to give me money for a new nose, too?”

I rolled my eyes, “That’s dramatic.”

Emma jabbed a finger in my direction. “That’s enough out of you, mister! Capiche?”

I liked her when she was a little bossy. I didn’t think I could hold back much longer. I needed her, and I needed her soon.

I clenched my fist, feeling the ache of my knuckles from where I’d connected with Lance’s face. If he didn’t leave soon, I was going to punch him again.

“Lance, get out of here,” Emma said. “We’re done. This is frankly a little sad.”

Lance wiped the back of his hand over his face, smearing blood across it. “Emma—”

“Go!” She waved him off like a disobedient dog. “You’ve done enough damage for today. Just leave.”

He looked like he was going to fight her on it for a sec, but then he turned on his heel and huffed away. I watched him go, a victorious smirk widening my mouth. Now it was just Emma and I. No distractions, no interruptions...

“You need to go too, Max.”

Emma’s face was slightly downcast as she said this. She’d lost some of the fire she’d had fighting with Lance, though I could still see it coiling in the air around her.

“Why do I need to go?” I walked toward her, stopping close enough to smell her delicious scent. With my hands in my pockets, hiding her douche of an ex’s blood, I looked down at her with concern.

Emma tilted her face up to meet my eyes, and her expression was so sad that it nearly sent me staggering back.

“This wasn’t a good idea,” she said. “This hasn’t been a good idea from the start.”

I was shocked. What about this little run-in with her ex had made her change her mind? We’d been on the same page until now, so ready to tear each other’s clothes off and explore the forbidden fruit.

“Because I hit him?” I prospected. “I won’t apologize for that. He completely deserved it.”

She shook her head. “No, not that. Although I’m not impressed with that either.”

“Then what, Emma? Because I don’t think it’s worth missing out on this if you’re just getting cold feet because of an unfortunate chance encounter.”

“It wasn’t chance,” she said. “And it’s not like I’m only a tad anxious about it all. I was already a little anxious before I even got in your limo tonight. This is about me seeing something clearly for the first time.”

“Tell me.” My murmured command sent her lips curling back, and I wondered how she would react if I just leaned down to kiss her right now. Would she still send me away?

“I wanted my independence,” she said. “After Lance kicked me out, I realized that I’ve spent my whole life going from one steward to the next. I’ve never actually just dug my heels in and did things on my own. I can’t go straight from Lance to a new guy, especially not my boss.”

My jaw clenched. I had a feeling my thoughts about Lance and the nature of their relationship had been spot on. I couldn’t promise her that I wouldn’t break her heart. I couldn’t promise her anything. That left me without words to tell her why I didn’t want her to make me leave.

A pained look passed over Emma’s face. “Have we gone too far? I don’t want to have to quit my job, but I’d like to keep things professional from now on.”

Those words cut a bloody hole in my side. I didn’t want to keep things professional. I wanted to keep things very unprofessional. I wanted to fuck her over my desk, push her up against my office wall, and generally make filthy an otherwise immaculate office. But I couldn’t force her to continue things, nor would I ever do something that low. So if she wanted to keep things professional... well, I didn’t agree with it, but it was her choice.

“We haven’t gone too far,” I said. “I daresay we could go a bit farther before turning back.”

The lightest of smiles touched her face, but even my humor couldn’t sway her now.

“Thanks, Max. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Emma turned and began striding up the walk toward the building, and I watched until she’d passed through the door and was out of my view entirely. Then, with a dejected sigh, I slid back into the limo and told the driver to take me home. Alone.

Chapter 16

Emma

It was a perfect day for moving. Spring was now wholly upon us, and the entire block was filled with the sweet scent of blooming cherry blossoms from the trees lining the avenue. I took it as a good sign, a welcome omen of things to come. Moving into my new apartment was a huge step for me. I couldn’t wait to have the entire space to myself.

“Can we go furniture shopping after this?” Willow asked, dropping the third and only box of my belongings onto the living room floor. “It’s looking a little bare in here.”

I’d started collecting housewares in the last couple of weeks before moving out of Willow’s, since I didn’t own any plates or cutlery or really anything of my own. Apart from these small bits and pieces, I had absolutely nothing to fill the little apartment.

“That might not be a bad idea,” I replied, leaning against the wall and surveying the space. “I think a bed is a bigger priority though. I wouldn’t mind not sleeping on the floor tonight.”

Willow laughed, “Maybe we should make a list. You’re probably going to need some food at some point too.”

My stomach gave a woeful grumble, and I checked the time on my phone. It was just after four pm, which meant it was close enough to dinner time.

“Should we order something in for tonight?” I asked. “My treat.”

Willow nodded enthusiastically. “We should start investigating which is the best Thai place in the area.”

Since I didn’t particularly like Thai, I figured this was because Willow intended to come over lots. I was glad, since I knew I’d start to get lonely pretty quickly when she left.

Willow pulled out her phone and started Googling madly, while I started pulling things out of the boxes and assigning them homes. Since I didn’t have any furniture, the only place I could really put things was either the cabinets in the kitchen and bathroom or the closet, but I was determined to make it work. It was only Saturday, so I had all the rest of tonight and tomorrow to run out and grab some furniture to make this place more of a home. I was already pretty happy here, and couldn’t wait to see what it would look like once I’d given it a more personal touch.

“I found a place!” Willow announced, coming into the kitchen a couple minutes later. I’d been hanging a dish towel over the oven handle, and turned when she entered. There wasn’t much space in the kitchen with Willow and I in there at once. Good to know for hosting dinner parties.

“How did you find it so quickly?” I asked. Willow could be very picky when it came to her take out.

“I have a friend in the area who recommended it.” Lowering her voice, as if that friend might be listening, she added, “Though I’m reserving my judgement. It could be crap.”

“Whatever,” I said, laughing. “I just want some food. Order me some pad Thai and let’s get this show on the road.”

Willow saluted me and walked out of the kitchen. I went back to my towel, straightening it until it hung perfectly, with no corner out of place. Things wouldn’t always be so pristine here, but for now they were perfect.

Willow finished ordering and came back into the kitchen a moment later to give me the ETA. Then she and I went to continue unpacking in the living room.

“You should have scheduled some furniture deliveries for today,” she said. “We could’ve had this place filled up in no time.”

“I thought about it,” I said. “I just haven’t had the time to look. Things have been busy at work.”

Willow stopped what she was doing and looked over at me out of the corner of her eye. “Oh yeah?”

I knew she’d been resisting the urge to ask me about Max every day since I’d ended things with him. I’d given her the bare facts of the evening, but held back on some of the more sordid details. She didn’t need to know that I’d come all over his fingers in the back of the limo on the way home. I wanted to keep that to myself. Especially since I still masturbated to the thought of it sometimes, even though I knew it was a bad idea.

“It’s just a busy time of year for us I guess,” I replied.

I’d known that Willow had been at her breaking point for a while now, but I’d been putting off the inevitable. I could put it off no longer.

“Emma, you’re killing me!” she said, tossing the tea towel onto the floor. “What is going on with you and Max? Or what isn’t going on? Isn’t it hard working alongside someone whose tongue was down your throat only a couple of weeks ago?”

For someone who spent most of her days around small children, Willow certainly didn’t act like it. I didn’t mind this confrontation as much now as I would have back when I first ended things. I’d been more cut up about it than I let on, and maybe part of me wished that Max would make more of a fuss. It was stupid, I know, but losing him before I’d even gotten him properly in the first place had hurt like hell. It might have helped if he’d have fought me on it a little more.

“Max is a perfect gentleman,” I said. “We don’t talk about what happened. We’re both adults about it.”

“Adults?” Willow scoffed. “Pretending like it never happened isn’t being adult about it.”

“What would you suggest? Ignoring him for the rest of my life? You know it’s complicated. Pretending it never happened is the only way we can continue our professional working relationship.”

“I guess I just don’t understand the point of ending things in the first place.” She picked up the tea towel and refolded it, setting it gently on top of the other few in the box. “I thought you liked him. Doesn’t it hurt?”

“It was bound to sting a little,” I replied.

It hurts like hell, is what I wanted to say. Being so close to him and yet not being able to have him is one of the most frustrating and disheartening experiences I’ve ever had.

Willow rolled her eyes, clearly not believing my assertion that it only stung a little. She could read me like a large-print newspaper, so that didn’t surprise me. I was more surprised that she had such an opinion on the matter in the first place.

“I thought you’d be happy about this,” I said. “Everything’s gone back to being professional. We tried it, it didn’t work. The timing just wasn’t right. End of story.”

Willow thrust her hands in the air. “So what if the timing’s not right?”

I opened my mouth to list off the other reasons, but Willow waved it back closed.

“No, listen up for a sec, okay?” She grabbed me by the shoulders, staring deep into my eyes. One thing I wouldn’t miss from living on my own was how touchy she could be.

“Max isn’t Lance. They’re not even slightly comparable. One of them is a good guy with a good job who has been nothing but nice to you, and the other is a literal pile of shit with a face.”

Again, how did she work with kids all day?

“It doesn’t matter if they’re not the same person,” I sighed. “And anyway, I’ve missed my chance. Even if I changed my mind—which I haven’t—what’s the point of rocking the boat? Things have been good at work and I would only make things weird by changing my mind.”

I hadn’t changed my mind about the Max issue, but I also hadn’t fully accepted it yet. I just wished there was another way things could work between us. He was everything that I wanted—smart, funny, successful, attractive. And I knew him to be a good guy, too. Being around him every day only made me want him more, but I couldn’t let myself go there. There was too much keeping us apart. He was my boss, I was just getting out of a relationship, and did I mention that he was my boss?

“I still think you’re crazy,” Willow said. “But hey, I can’t stop you from living your life the way you want. But let me tell you, that’s the kind of man I’d eat some meat for, if you catch my drift.”

I made a disgusted face and shook my head. “You’re one of a kind, Willow Nelson.”

“You know it.”

The buzzer for the front door rang, and Willow jumped up. “You go get the food,” she said. “I’ll uncork the wine I brought.”

“You brought wine?” I asked.

She shrugged, smirking. “Don’t I always? You better drink it or I’ll force some kombucha down your throat next time you’re over.”

“Say no more.” I rose to my feet and went to the buzzer. “Hello?”

“FedEx here. I’ve got a package for a Miss Valentine?”

I frowned. It wasn’t the food at all. My curiosity was piqued though, so I buzzed him in. He arrived at the door a minute later, holding a wide, squat box. He thrust his machine out for my signature and then handed me the package. He turned to leave, and I looked at the sender to see where the parcel was coming from. All it said was that it had come from an online art store, one that I was familiar with from my time of sketching. Willow was still in the kitchen, and I wanted to know what was in here before she found out it wasn’t food and asked.

I ripped the box open and sorted through its contents. A sketch pad, some drawing pencils, some charcoal, a gum eraser. All of it was super high quality, and had clearly cost a ton. There was nothing about the person who’d sent it, except a little note on top.

Happy Housewarming.

I scowled. I knew exactly who it was from.

“That’s not food,” Willow observed from the kitchen doorway. She was holding two glasses of wine and her mouth narrowed into a pinched frown. My stomach grumbled, so I knew how she felt.

“It’s some art supplies I ordered online,” I lied.

“On a Saturday?” She crossed the room to look in the box. I made sure to shove the note off to the side where she wouldn’t see it.

“Uh, yeah. I paid extra for Saturday delivery because I thought it might be nice to do some sketching on my first weekend in the new place.”

I felt bad being dishonest to Willow, but this was something I’d like to figure out myself first. I didn’t know what to think about the unexpected present and if she knew who it came from I’d never hear the end of it.

“Cool.” Willow was still holding both glasses, and without furniture to put them down on, she couldn’t properly root through the package. “Maybe we could use the box as a table?”

I laughed, “Clearly you spend too much time with kindergarteners.”

The buzzer screamed again. I put the box down on the floor and walked over to answer it. This time it was the food.

“Food’s on the way up,” I said, turning back to Willow. She handed me a glass of wine.

“I’m proud of you, babe,” she said. “You may not be making all the same choices I would in your situation, but you’re doing a damn fine job. I can’t believe your drawing again. That’s so exciting.”

“Thanks,” I said. “It’s exciting for me too.”

Albeit unexpected.

Chapter 17

Max

The afternoon sun slanted through my living room window, bathing the whole room in golden light. My mother always chastised me for not closing my blinds during the day. She was just as concerned about her own aging as she was of the furniture and rugs in her luxurious Manhattan apartment, and having direct sunlight blasting through the windows was considered a cardinal sin. I, on the other hand, liked the way the sunlight seemed to change the room, giving it an ethereal, dreamy quality.

My living room was the perfect place to unwind after a long day, which was exactly what I was doing. I sat on the leather sofa and stared out the window across from me, eyes tracking along the lines of the adjacent skyscrapers. Dust motes waltzed through the air in front of me, twirling and drifting without ever worrying about touching the ground.

In my left hand, a tumbler of gin. In my right, my phone, on which I’d just finished my third business call of the day. It would be my last too. If I had to have breakfast with my mother tomorrow, I was at least going to give myself the night off. Who knew what she had in store for me?

I was just thinking about turning on the TV when my home phone rang. Since I wasn’t expecting visitors, and the only time it rang was when someone was downstairs to see me, this caught my curiosity.

I downed another mouthful of the gin before setting it on the coffee table and grabbing the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Westfield, I have a Miss Emma Valentine here to see you.”

My heart lurched in my chest. She must have received my present. Had she come all this way to thank me? I’d debated sending the present in the first place, since it hardly seemed to fit in with her desire for professionalism, but I couldn’t resist.

“Thank you, Hal. Send her on up.”

I hung up the phone and took another drink of the gin. My pulse was just a little too fast for my liking. I should have been able to handle this. I saw her every day, didn’t I? But this was different. Something would change with this visit.

She knocked on my door a couple minutes later, and I tried to compose myself as much as possible before I opened it. I fixed a warm smile on my face as I swung the door open, a greeting poised on my lips.

Emma was all red hair and fury. She barged passed me, stomping over to the kitchen island and slamming down a box on top of it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Returning your present,” she said, spinning on her heel to face me. “What did I say about being professional?”

I closed the door, raising one eyebrow. This wasn’t going exactly how I’d hoped, but I could work with this. At least she was here.

“I don’t see anything unprofessional about sending my treasured employee a housewarming gift.” I crossed my arms and strolled over to her, watching with delight as she backed up against the granite countertop to keep as much distance between us as possible. “I’d say the more unprofessional act is you storming in here unannounced to ungratefully return the gift.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open. A bolt of desire shot through me, and it took everything I had not to crush her against the counter.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “How is sending a sweet present professional? You can’t do that. If you wanted to send a housewarming gift, a set of dish towels or something stupid like that is the norm.”

“I didn’t want to send dish towels,” I replied. “I wanted to send something personal, something you might actually like, and use.”

“Well...” she trailed off, staring at me angrily. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Too late. I did.”

Emma set her jaw and stepped away from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at the unwanted package.

“You can take them back. I’m not accepting it. And next time you think about sending something, don’t.”

She stormed past me again, heading for the door. I turned and caught her arm before she got just out of reach, knowing that if she made it to that door she’d be gone.

“Emma, wait,” I said.

Emma stopped but didn’t pull her arm away. She fixed me with a glare that could have melted meat from bone. It was chilling, to say the least. And impressive. I didn’t know what about her had changed so much in the past couple of months, or what had brought about said change, but it looked good on her. She was finally coming into her own. I wished I could say I was a part of that.

“What?” she growled. “Don’t tell me there’s more on the way.”

“You’re being pretty aggressive considering you’re talking to your boss.”

It was a lighthearted joke, or at least it was meant to be, but Emma didn’t take it that way. She yanked her arm out of my grip and scowled.

“Don’t you dare try to use that on me right now.”

This woman was perplexing. I was a Westfield, and that meant I always got what I wanted. So why couldn’t I have her? Why did everything I said and did seemed to make things worse? It was infuriating and intoxicating all at the same time.

“Fine, sorry.” I put my hands up in surrender.

“I’ll see you on Monday.” She turned to leave again.

This time, I figured I should try fighting fire with fire.

“You’re not mad about the present,” I said. “You’re mad because of how it made you feel. You’re mad because I got under your skin.”

Emma stopped and stayed so still it looked like somebody had pressed pause on her. Then she slowly turned to face me, and I noticed the little bit of pink on her cheeks.

“You’re not under my skin,” she replied, voice just a little too steady.

I stalked toward her, touching her chin and forcing her to look up at me. The air between us was smouldering and charged with all the sexual tension we’d spent the last few weeks suppressing. Emma could try all she wanted not to want me, but it was clear as day how much she did. I could practically smell it on her, and I wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d made her admit it. I could only be the sweet, gentle lover for so long.

“If I’m not under your skin, then what are you doing here, baby?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Answer my question.”

She took a step back, my hand falling away to my side. I noticed her breaths were coming heavier now.

“I came here to yell at you because I can’t do that at work,” she replied.

“Bullshit. You came here because you’re mad, yes, but you’re not mad at me. You’re mad at yourself for liking the gift, and for appreciating it. So you came to return it, to punish yourself, but also because you can’t stay away from me any more than I can stay away from you. Admit it.”

Her hazel eyes widened ever so slightly, lips parting as if of their own accord. If I touched her wrist I knew I’d feel her pulse racing under her skin like a thumping drum line. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted her right now.

“You’re wrong.”

“No, baby. I’m so right it hurts. And the sooner you admit that, the sooner I can make you forget all about that hurt and introduce you to a world of pleasure instead.” I reached for her again, this time holding her face in both hands and staring deep into her eyes. “Let me.”

It was as much of a command as it was a plea and I knew that if she left my home today, I would be a wreck.

I’d already let her walk away from me once before, and I couldn’t do it again.

Emma’s pupils ate up her irises until they were practically black. Her skin was soft and warm under my palms, and I wondered how it would taste. Probably sweet, just like the rest of her. Though, she certainly had a rough streak. She’d proved that much to me today.

“It’s not a good idea, Max,” she said weakly, trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince me. There was no convincing me. She was in my sights and I was pulling the trigger, there was no doubt in my mind. But would she let me?

“The only thing that’s not a good idea is the fact that you’re still wearing those clothes.”

She gulped, bringing my attention to the long line of her neck. I leaned in to press my lips there, unable to hold back any longer.

Emma wrenched herself from my grasp and teetered back a few steps. “And what happens when you get tired of me, huh? I’ll be out on the street looking for a new job, and you’ll be my only applicable reference.”

There was fury in her eyes now, like it was my fault for putting us in this situation in the first place. Like I had insulted her by wanting her. It made fire scream through my veins to see her look at me like that, with such distrust and fear in her eyes.

“Listen to me closely, Emma,” I said, tone dark and low. “There are a great number of things I’m going to do to you, and that’s not one of them. I’m going to make you cum so hard you see stars.” I took a step closer. “I’m going to stretch you wide with my cock until you scream for more. And I’m going to make my mark on you, under your skin where you’ll always be able to feel me.” We were face to face again, and this time she didn’t scurry away. I bore my gaze down at her, daring her to move even an inch. “But I will never betray your trust, nor will I do something as stupid as sullying my company’s good name by using it as a means to get myself some disposable action on the side. Do you understand?”

Emma glared, those delicious lips pressed into a thin line. I grabbed her chin and yanked her closer, until our faces were a hair’s breadth apart.

“Do you understand, baby?”

She opened her mouth, but hesitated before speaking. When the words came, it was the most powerful rush I’d ever felt.

“I understand... sir.”

My cock throbbed with the need to take her. I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Good.” I slammed my mouth down on hers, wrapping my arms around her to grab her ass and pull her tight against my chest.

Emma moaned, opening up to me like she had that night on the patio. She fell against me without resistance, without complaint. My heart thudded with triumph as I held her. I never wanted to let her go, never wanted to touch anything other than her soft, fragrant skin or the silky trail of her hair. I wrapped her up so tight it was like I was completely enveloping her, keeping her close to me and me alone.

The kiss started off at a scorching tempo. There was enough pent up passion between us to power the whole block, and it showed. Within moments I jammed her back against the wall, her hands tightening in the front of my shirt. I burned for her, ached for her. Each kiss only relieved a small amount of my longing while adding to my addiction even more. I grabbed her hands and held them above her head in one hand, running the other over her breasts, down her ribs, and across her hip. She groaned and nipped at my lip. I bit back, harder, showing her just how much I wanted her by grinding my hard length against her abdomen. I’d waited a long time for this. For her. Once wouldn’t be enough, but I had all night.

Like fucking hell she’d be leaving this place before morning. And I’d make sure she’d have trouble walking straight when she did, and hopefully I’d be one giant limp dick myself.

Chapter 18

Emma

Sure, I didn’t like admitting that Max was right. When is admitting that to someone ever a good time? But when I did admit it, when I did give into it, he rewarded me so generously that I think it was worth holding back. It was worth the tension.

Max kissed with fervor, with purpose. His desire burned hotter than the sun, and I was on fire. Every brush of his lips against my neck, my shoulder, the tops of my breasts, made my heart beat faster and my core clench. The wall was solid against my back, and Max was pressing me so hard into it I thought the wall would break in two. His body felt amazing pressed up against me, a veritable smorgasbord of sexy man. I could feel each ab and the swell of his pecs, even if he was holding my hands in place above my head. It was a huge turn on, one that made my pussy quiver with anticipation. If he was this much of an animal when making out, what was he like in bed?

Well, I knew a little, since he’d finger-fucked me to heaven and back on our last little rendezvous. The memory of that backseat encounter made my face flame with heat, and a little moan escaped my lips.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Max growled. He stepped back, but only far enough to dip down and toss me over his shoulder.

I’d never been carried off to bed caveman style before, and despite my initial surprise it was actually one hell of a rush.

I squealed with pleasure and he gave me a hefty pat on the behind, laughing. We were both laughing now, which felt good after having such a tense confrontation. We needed this release. And I needed him.

Max’s bedroom was, as I expected, amazing. He had a huge king size bed with creamy sheets, and it felt like he was dropping me onto a cloud. A window on the opposite wall had a sprawling view of the city, where the lights were just beginning to come on in the adjacent buildings.

Max stripped off his t-shirt as I lay there, getting my bearings, and my attention immediately darted back to him. He was glorious. His torso was taut with muscles, a faint dusting of hair heading down from his navel beneath the waistband of his jeans. I’d seen him in jeans a couple times, but had never seen him shirtless. The combination was breathtaking.

“My eyes are up here,” he joked.

I dragged my eyes up from his chest to his face. He was wearing a smirk that sent my heart flopping over in my chest.

“Shut up.”

Max grinned. “I like when you boss me around,” he said, lowering himself over me. “But don’t forget for one second who’s the boss.”

He bit my lip and continued down, pulling up the hem of my shirt and dragging it over my head. His light kisses left a trail of goosebumps down my stomach, and he blew on the wet spots and made them tingle even more. I squirmed, which earned me a chuckle from my tormentor.

“Have a little patience, baby.” Max undid my jeans and slowly pulled them down, kissing each inch of leg as it was exposed. I’d never had a guy pay so much attention to my body before, and we hadn’t even gotten to the good stuff yet. With Lance it was usually a little making out, maybe foreplay if he was in a good mood, and then straight to the sex. Had he ever kissed my shin? Probably not.

“You are so sexy,” Max whispered, staring down at me as he dropped his own pants to the floor. His massive erection stretched the fabric of his boxers, creating a tent big enough to shelter a grizzly bear. My mouth went dry.

“You too,” I said, swallowing.

“I’ve been wanting this since the moment I first set eyes on you,” he said, climbing back over me. “Every day at the office with you is torture.”

He rubbed himself against my sensitive mound and I moaned, biting my lip. His mouth fluttered over my neck, up my cheek, then over to my mouth where he took me again in another soul-consuming kiss. I was drunk on him, unsteady even lying down.

Max slid a hand between our bodies, slipping under the waistband of my panties and dipping between my folds to test my slickness. He hissed against my mouth with pleasure, sliding in further and rubbing my clit with his thumb, just like he’d done in the limo. This time I was treated to the feeling of his body heat burning my skin, the knowledge that soon we would both finally get what we’d been craving.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet,” he murmured. “Do you even know how sexy you are?”

Max plunged another finger into me and I curled up toward his hand, my moan more of a cry than anything else.

“Please, Max,” I said.

“Please what?”

“Don’t keep teasing me. I need you.”

His whole demeanor changed. He rolled to the side and pulled me on top of him, unclasping my bra faster than it took for me to straddle him in the first place. My breasts swung free, nipples peaked and aching. He leaned forward and captured one in his mouth, sucking and licking it until I thought I might burst. He switched to the other one, making a delicious growl in his throat that I felt deep in my core.

Max leaned further forward still, until he had somehow rolled me back onto my back and was kneeling above me. His smile as he relieved me of my panties could only be considered mischievous, and hell did it look good on him. I felt like Christmas had come early, and this year’s present was wrapped in a tight-fitting pair of boxer shorts that left little to the imagination. He pulled them down as I watched, reaching forward to rub one hand on the top of my mound as he pulled himself free of the boxers. If it were a cartoon—a very R-rated cartoon—my eyes would have popped out of my head. I could barely keep them contained when I saw the size of his meat. It was thick, with a veiny ridge down the bottom and a swollen mushroom head.

Merry Christmas to me.

Max backed away momentarily, feeling behind him for the drawer of his nightstand. I was amazed how much he could accomplish while keeping his eyes on me the whole time. He got a condom, put it on, and was back on top of me before I’d even had a chance to realize that this was really happening. He was really on top of me, his cock was really poised at my entrance, and I was really about to fuck my boss.

And god, did it feel good.

“Ready, baby?” Max asked.

“Go slow.” I laughed. “You’re, uh, a little bigger than I’m used to.”

Max rested his hands on either side of my head and began to slowly push inside, filling me to the point I thought he’d never get it in. Then, mercifully, my body relaxed to accommodate his girth. And from there it was clear sailing.

I felt every inch of him as he sank inside, and the look of pure bliss on his face told me he was feeling me too.

My core sizzled, and I could feel energy growing there. Each stroke brought me closer to that high, and I had no doubts about getting there. With another lover, maybe, but with Max? Not a chance. If there was one thing I knew I could rely on, it was that his lovemaking would leave me beyond satisfied.

His thrusts brought our hips flush against each other, his chest squeezing against mine. There was no space between us, and we exchanged air and the slick of our sweat. I dragged my nails down his back to pull him closer, loving the way his body overwhelmed mine. He was so much bigger than me, and a million times stronger than me, but I felt safer than I’d ever felt before in his arms.

His lips brushed my earlobe. “You feel so good. You’re so fucking tight.”

His dirty talk thrilled me, even if I didn’t feel confident enough to try out any of my own. I wished I could, though, because I knew it would drive him wild. And I’d do anything to drive Max wild.

The pressure in my core grew, coiled. I buried my face in his neck and kissed him with a fierce intensity as I started to climb a slope of pleasure, one that I knew was going to end in fireworks. My body shook as I held onto him with all my might.

“I’m close,” I whispered into his ear.

It was hardly expert dirty talk, but it achieved the effect I thought it would. Max groaned and his thrusts went deeper, harder. He sat back on his heels and lifted my legs over his shoulders, holding me by the hips as he slammed his hips into mine ruthlessly.

The sudden change was enough to send me hurtling over the edge. I cried out, and it felt like I was doing so with every cell in my body. We were all crying for him. We all needed him. He muttered something unintelligible and crashed forward again, again, again. Each thrust sent more waves of pleasure undulating through me. My hair stood on end. My body crashed against the waves. I shook.

Max stilled above me, holding his hips tight against mine and screwing his eyes shut with ecstasy. He groaned and fell over top of me a second later, chest heaving and skin sticky with sweat. He kissed my shoulder where his head rested against it, which was an unexpectedly tender gesture, but also one that was completely welcome.

I pushed at his shoulder. “I’m thirsty.”

“I should expect so,” he chuckled, biting my shoulder. “I’ll get up and get you some water.”

I frowned. “I can get my own water.”

“Sure you can,” he said, inching his mouth up my neck. “But you’re not allowed to leave this bed. Not yet.”

I’d been dreaming about Max’s scent for weeks. That warm, spicy musk that always drew me in and made me want to get as close as possible was as familiar to me as the smell of a campfire in the summer, or the earthy scent of the forest after the rain. It was a smell that I’d logged away in my memory with all the other delightful smells I experienced, and it crept out from time to time in the form of dreams.

Today, however, when I woke up with Max’s scent in my nostrils, it wasn’t a dream. It was real life.

Really real life.

His arm was heavy on my waist, holding me in place even though I never wanted to move again. We both lay on our sides, with my face tucked in to his warm chest and his resting somewhere above mine on the pillow. It was an incredibly intimate way of sleeping, as far as my experience went, and it was my new favorite thing.

The only problem was that my throat was as dry as the Sahara and there was no refreshment within reach. I knew that battling my thirst would only end up with me on the losing end, so I decided not to even try it.

It was the weekend. I could get back into bed after I was properly hydrated, and snuggle up against my boss at my leisure. And then maybe we could do something a little less innocent.

I rolled over, but as soon as I did Max’s arm tightened and he pulled me back. “Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured in a ragged, sleep-stained voice.

I giggled, “To get some water. I’m parched.”

“Why are you always so damn thirsty?”

“I don’t know, because I’m a human being? Plus. I have to pee.” I elbowed him lightly in the chest, much as I hated having to eject myself from the hold. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

Max was still half asleep, that much I could tell. If he weren’t, he probably wouldn’t have let me go so easily. He was a bit of a control freak, always had been, and now that we were intimate I was experiencing a whole new side to him.

His arm retracted, and he sighed heavily and turned on his back. I got up and grabbed his discarded shirt from the floor, buttoning it up while I looked down at him with a smile.

His hair was ruffled, and he had more stubble than I was used to seeing. I’d never seen lazy morning Max before. I hoped I would get to see much more of him.

I padded out to the kitchen with bare feet, smiling to myself as I grabbed a glass and held it under the water dispenser in the fridge door. Apart from grabbing some furniture, there was nothing I had to do today and nowhere I had to be. I was feeling particularly inspired, and since Max and I had made up I decided that I would accept his gift after all. That meant today I could do a little drawing if I felt so inclined, which I did. It was a happy thought.

There was a metallic jangling from the front door, and I froze. Was Max expecting someone?

Before I could think to run back to his bedroom, the door swung open. In walked my literal nightmare.

Paulina shrieked, like she’d walked in on a crime scene rather than her son’s assistant wearing his shirt. The woman beside her, a pretty brunette wearing an adorable polka-dotted dress, looked between us in alarm but said nothing. I expected she had no idea what was going on, which was good since neither did I.

“Mrs. Westfield...” I started to say, unsure of how to best remedy the situation.

It wasn’t my fault she’d barged in here unannounced. It also wasn’t my fault that she was now doing her best impression of a wide mouth bass.

Heavy thumps preceded Max’s arrival into the kitchen. He wore only his pants, which meant that between the two of us there was a full outfit.

“Mother! You can’t just barge in like that!” he yelled, moving to stand between us, like I needed shielding from her gaze.

Paulina glowered at him. “I can when you’re late for breakfast! I thought something had happened to you. And then I come over to find that you were too busy to come see your poor mother for breakfast because you were...” Her expression deepened into disgust. “Fornicating with your staff!”

My face grew hot enough to roast marshmallows on. Suddenly I was happy that Max was standing between us. I didn’t think I could handle Paulina’s wrath without him.

“Yes, I forgot about breakfast,” he hissed. “But I didn’t forget that it was supposed to be just the two of us. Who the hell is this?” He gestured toward the girl, who was similarly embarrassed.

Out of everyone in the room, I didn’t expect to relate most to the girl Max’s mother had clearly been hoping to set him up with.

“Maximilian Augustus Westfield!” Paulina wailed. “How dare you talk to me like that! And how dare you embarrass this poor girl, who only came to breakfast as a favor to me. Her father is one of the biggest bankers on Wall Street, you know. She’s not the sort you want to be shunning!”

From behind, I had a great view of Max’s back muscles as they tensed with rage. He was gorgeous. I hoped I never made him this angry, but damn he looked good this way.

“I’m not dealing with this right now,” he said. “You’ve gone too far this time, Mother. I’ll call you later, but for now you should leave.”

“You can’t kick me out, because Christine and I are leaving!” she sniffed. “I am just so embarrassed, I cannot believe you. You’re more like your father than I gave you credit for.”

With those cutting words hanging in the air, Paulina turned primly on her heel and stormed out of the apartment, Christine tagging along hurriedly behind her.

I remembered what Max had told me about his father, about how the only black marks on the man’s record in his mind were his infidelities, and my heart hurt. How could she say something like that to him?

Max stared at the door for a few seconds before turning to face me. His eyes were dark, troubled, and his hands were still clenched into fists at his sides.

“I’m sorry about that.” His voice was low and cold. He may have been apologizing to me, but his mind was somewhere else.

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay,” I said. “I should go though.”

“Emma...”

“No,” I said quickly. “I really have to go. I’ve got lots of stuff to do today and I’m already a bit late getting started.” I turned and disappeared down the hall to his bedroom, swiping my clothes from the floor and putting them on as quickly as possible. Max followed me into the bedroom.

“Don’t let her freak you out,” he said. “She’s always a drama queen.”

“No, it’s fine.” I finished pulling on my shirt and tugged my hair up into a high pony with the hair tie from my jeans pocket. “I just have stuff to do, Max. I can’t stay.”

I hoped that if I kept repeating that, I wouldn’t have to tell him the real reason I was leaving. The real reason I was freaking out.

He came over and stopped me, hands holding my shoulders. His eyes bore into mine and he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. The look he gave me when he pulled back was questioning, like I hadn’t reacted properly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.

“Sure.”

I walked out, right past the drawing supplies and the glass of water that had sealed my fate.

Last night was amazing. Hell, it was beyond amazing. But what kind of future could I have with a guy whose mother liked me as a person, but would never be okay with me as a romantic interest for her son? Paulina was going to continue trying to set him up on dates. She wouldn’t rest until she saw him paired up with some heiress who had everything going for her.

Her interruption today was just a reminder of the inevitable. Max seemed to like me, but did he like me enough to defy his mom and indulge in behavior that put him a step closer to being the version of his father he disliked? I didn’t want to find out.

If it came down to it and Max had to choose, I would be heartbroken if he didn’t choose me. So it was time to take me out of the equation.

Chapter 19

Emma

The worst part about sleeping with your boss and then having an awkward and embarrassing run in with his overbearing mother is that you can’t escape what happened. I spent all of Sunday ignoring Max’s calls, but it was a fool’s errand.

I could ignore him all I wanted, but come Monday morning I was sitting at my desk just a few feet from his office door. I thought about calling in sick, but that seemed highly unethical, and he would know exactly what was going on, of course.

This was exactly why I didn’t want to do this in the first place! We’d gone too far, only to have things go sour—and leaving me with no place to hide. The only option was to show up or quit, and I couldn’t afford to bail. I also couldn’t imagine myself ever doing something so cowardly, but the temptation was certainly there.

I was a nervous wreck as I walked to my desk Monday morning. I nodded at the people I passed, who smiled back and wished me a good morning like always, completely unaware of the shit storm I’d weathered over the weekend. Max’s door was closed, so I couldn’t even tell whether he was in or not. Maybe he would take the day off and I’d be given a reprieve from this whole situation for the day.

My intercom buzzed the moment I sat down. “Emma, please come see me in my office.”

Or… maybe not.

My heart kicked into overdrive and I ran a hand through my hair as I stood on shaky legs and walked the few steps to his door. Inside, Max was leaning against the front of his desk. I noticed he preferred that position when he wanted to have one of our more personal chats.

“Close the door,” he said, his tone cold. His eyes were also cold. Hell, there was even a frosty breeze blowing through this office, and it wasn’t from the warm spring day outside.

I gulped and closed the door behind me. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, for starters you can tell me why the fuck you haven’t been returning my calls.”

“I was busy yesterday,” I lied.

Max saw right through it. His pinched frown indicated that he was very displeased with the lie.

“Tell me the truth, Emma,” he commanded. “Why were you ignoring me?”

I found it almost impossible to deny this man something he wanted.

“Max,” I sighed, sagging with my back against the door. “Things could never work between us. What are we doing?”

Max pushed off from the desk and walked toward me, stopping halfway across the room. At least he wasn’t crowding me today, which was a good thing for my willpower. I wasn’t sure I could stay strong if he got too close to me, and I think he knew that too.

“I wasn’t aware you were a psychic,” he said, with no trace of humor. “What other predictions can you make? Are the Yankees going to win the World Series this year?”

I frowned. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“So tell me what you mean then,” he retorted. “I’d love to know how you could possibly predict something like that based only on a single unfortunate interaction with my harpy mother.”

It’s not just that,” I replied, shaking my head. “You’ve got to know it’s not just that.”

“Then what else is it?”

I sighed. Getting into this at work seemed wrong, but he was the one paying me, so if he wanted to pay me to argue with him, I guess that was his business.

“We’re two different people, Max. We’re in different worlds.” I stood straight, folding my arms over my chest. “For starters, you don’t ever want to get married. Getting married is something that’s important to me. Then there’s the fact that I simply don’t fit into your life. Nothing indicates that more than what happened with Paulina yesterday, but I’m sure we could find a million other obstacles between us.”

“That’s it? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Max shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped toward me again, closing the distance between us until he towered overhead. I did everything I could not to lean in and wrap my arms around him.

“I don’t give a fuck about any of that,” he said. “I want you. That’s all that matters.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not the way the world works, Max,” I snapped. “If it were, we wouldn’t need to be having this conversation. I’m not going to be your secret office romance just because you’re not ready to quit me just yet. That’s not fair to me and goes against everything I’ve been working toward.”

Willow would be really proud of me for standing up for myself. I couldn’t wait to tell her about this conversation when I got home, mostly because I couldn’t wait to get home. I could hide in my new bed, if only until tomorrow.

“I don’t want you to be my secret office romance,” he said. “My mother can’t keep setting me up with girls if I’m off the market, so I’m taking myself off the market.”

I furrowed my brow and stared up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

The edges of Max’s mouth quirked and he leaned down toward me just enough to make my heart jump.

“I mean you’re my girlfriend now. Officially.”

I had conflicting feelings about this statement. On the one hand, being Max Westfield’s girlfriend sounded like an actual dream. Even though I was actively trying to end things with him, I still obviously burned for him with every cell of my being. The idea of having him to myself was so tempting that I nearly forgot all about my resolve and jumped into his arms right then and there.

Unfortunately, his statement didn’t give me amnesia. I still remembered that I’d been trying to end things for what I considered to be the best thing for both of us, and he’d just flat out rejected my rejection. That was exactly the kind of uncooperative shit that Max would pull, and I wasn’t having any of it.

“No.”

“No?” Max’s smile fell. “What do you mean?”

“I mean no. As in, no I would not like fries with that or, no I will not be your girlfriend.”

Max ground his teeth as he stared down at me, but I refused to budge. He could stare and stand as close to me as he wanted. I wasn’t going to give in just because he’d made a decision and he was the boss.

“I think what you meant to say is that yes, you will be my girlfriend,” he replied, narrowing his eyes.

“Except I won’t. I told you Max, we wouldn’t work as a couple for any length of time. And I’m not willing to be your decoy girlfriend so your mom stops setting you up on dates.”

“My decoy girlfriend? Are you kidding me?” Max unfolded his arms to rake a hand through his hair, then stepped back and walked over to his desk, leaning against the edge of it again. “Come here.”

I cautiously approached, staying a few feet back. His eyes flashed with irritation, but instead of commanding me again, he reached for my waist and moved me himself, setting me on top of his desk like a paperweight. Then he stood in front of me, so close that my knees grazed the tops of his thighs. He leaned in, placing a hand on either side of me to hold me in place. The whole time I was as limp as a rag doll and hated myself for it.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my heart racing at the intimate position.

“I’m clarifying some points and making another.”

His face hovered inches above mine, and my lips ached for his kiss. Being this close to him was scrambling my brain.

“My decision to make you my girlfriend is not based on my desire to keep my mother off my back. It’s a side benefit, sure, but the fact is that I just want you, Emma. I want you all to myself, and the thought of any other man laying a finger on you makes me feel sick. Is that understood?”

I stared up at him. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean I agree.”

“That’s the thing,” he said. “You do agree. You want me too, and I’m willing to bet that the thought of me with another woman isn’t your perfect fantasy either.”

I couldn’t deny that he had a point there. If any of the dates his mom arranged ended up being successful, it would break me.

Max moved closer, nudging my thighs apart to stand between them. I gasped. His desk was tall and we were now almost perfectly face to face. This gave me a prime view of the lust as it blossomed in his eyes. I was trapped, but I wasn’t afraid. I could never actually feel scared around Max. Though that might have been preferable to how turned on I was.

“You don’t know what I want, Max. If you did, you wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Prove it.” His breath tickled my cheek, and I had to forcibly remind myself to take a breath of my own.

“Is me telling you not enough?” I asked.

His smile slayed me. I nearly fainted back against the top of the desk right then and there.

“No, it’s not. I’m a man of action.”

“Then how can I prove it to you?”

His lip curled, “Kiss me.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked. “How is that going to prove that we’re not a good fit?”

“It won’t,” he said. “Which is exactly my point. But if you kiss me and afterward you can still tell me that you don’t want this, I’ll drop it. It shouldn’t be so hard if you’re that determined.”

I gulped. It was going to be very hard. I wasn’t even sure it was possible. How could I kiss this gorgeous, amazing man without turning into a puddle at his feet? Still, I had to try.

“Fine,” I snapped. “Come get it.”

Max swooped down, his lips mashing against mine with such intensity that I moaned without meaning to. He kept his hands on the desk, and I got the feeling it was less to do with caging me in and more to do with resisting the temptation to touch me, because as soon as I started kissing him back with my own brand of fire, he leaned around me to sweep the papers off his desk and then guided me down onto my back.

I kept meaning to stop him. I kept meaning to stand up for my decision. The only problem was that my decision didn’t make sense to me anymore. The only thing that made sense was his hot mouth on mine, his body pressed over the top of me, his hardening length grinding against my sensitive mound. This was the wildest thing I’d ever done, and I couldn’t believe I was doing it. His tongue speared into my mouth, dominating me. I moaned again. I lifted my hands to push him away, but ended up pulling him closer instead, my fists bunching in the front of his shirt.

Waves of arousal washed over me, dragging me further and further under his spell. It was pure magic. Pure ecstasy.

And then it was over.

Max lifted himself off me and stepped back, sucking in a breath like it was taking all his will power to do so. I lay panting on the desk, and it took me a second before I could sit up.

“So?” his voice was gravelly and thick. It stroked me like a feather.

I licked my lips, longing to get another taste of him. “So, I suppose you’ve made your point.”

“And?”

I coughed. “And... oh Christ, Max, are you going to make me say it?”

He folded his arms. “I want to hear you say you want me and that we should be together,” he said, smugly. “I won’t be satisfied until I hear the words tumble from that pretty little mouth of yours. And you will not leave this office until I’m satisfied.” He grinned sardonically. “Unless you want to stay with your earlier demand, that is. In which case, you’re free to go.”

I clenched my thighs together when I thought about the ways he might try to stop me from leaving. Could we get away with screwing in here? Was that acceptable office etiquette when it came to the CEO and his girlfriend?

“Fine,” I snapped. “I want you. I want to be with you. For now, nothing else matters.”

I meant what I said, but that didn’t mean I was happy to have to admit it like that.

“Good girl.” Max strode toward me, pushing me back down on the desk with a roughness that both surprised and delighted me. “And you know what good girls get, baby?”

I could barely breathe enough to whisper, “What?”

His eyes burned. “Everything.”

Chapter 20

Max

My mother’s side of the family was notorious for their ability to hold a grudge. One slight and you’d be blacklisted for the rest of eternity, probably even from beyond the grave. So when I told Paulina about my relationship with Emma, and a full week had passed without me hearing from her, I knew I was in the dog house and that it was going to take a damn miracle to get me out.

I caved in on Monday evening, as I was sitting in my apartment alone reflecting on the amazing weekend I’d just spent with Emma. At first I worried that acknowledging our desires and fully giving into them would make what we were doing boring, but as it turned out, the opposite was true. I couldn’t get enough of her. Even now, when I’d only just seen her an hour ago, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Unfortunately, this thing with my mother wasn’t going fix itself. She wouldn’t be the one to come forward to make amends. Rather than calling up Emma and inviting her over, which was what I wanted to do, I decided I’d bite the bullet and go straighten things out with my mother. I rationalized that I could see Emma afterward. She would be my reward for doing the right thing.

I didn’t call first. Paulina wouldn’t take my call anyway, and since she seemed fine with dropping in to my place unannounced, it seemed only fair that I should be able to do the same to her. Her apartment was nearby, which thankfully didn’t give my resolve much time to wither on the way over.

I walked up to the front desk of her building wearing the friendliest smile I owned. Her doorman had long ago taken a dislike to me, and I expected it was because my mother used him as her own personal sounding board for whatever was distressing her at the time. Usually, I was the one distressing her.

He called to let her know I was there, but the look on his face told me immediately that she was not okay with my visit.

“I’m going up,” I told him, and then left before he had a chance to argue with me. As much as it was his job not to let unwelcome visitors into the building, even my mother’s doorman knew not to tell me what to do.

I banged on Paulina’s door a couple minutes later. She did not answer. I groaned in frustration, wishing she could be just a touch less dramatic for once in her life. Would it kill her?

“Mother,” I called through the door. “Let me in. We need to talk.”

Silence.

“How would you feel if I just refused to talk to you?” I asked.

Still silence.

“If you don’t answer this door right now, I’ll call your book club and tell them what you get like after a few too many gins.”

There was a shuffling from the other side of the door and then it opened to reveal my mother’s pinched, angry face. I pushed my way inside, careful not to do so too forcefully and risk inadvertently hurting her.

“You never want to talk to me when I want to talk to you,” Paulina sniffed. “But as soon as you want something, look where you come running! It’s outrageous.”

“What’s outrageous is the fact that you’ve been ignoring me for the past week because I told you I have a girlfriend.”

She closed the door and walked purposefully over to the kitchen to pour herself a gin and tonic. She didn’t offer me one, but then again that would have been the polite thing for her to do. Mother was only ever polite when it suited her. She never saw the irony in placing such a high premium on the manners of others.

“It’s not that you have a girlfriend, Maximillian. You mustn’t be so dramatic,” she chastised.

Now I was the one being dramatic? The woman was unbelievable.

“Then what is it?” I asked. “Is it that she’s my assistant?”

She finished measuring out the gin and practically slammed the bottle back down on the counter. “She’s your secretary,” she snapped. “And beyond that, she’s completely unsuited to you and you know that. You should be with an educated young woman of your own station. I wish you’d grow up and stop chasing the shortest skirt and start looking for someone to settle down with.”

“How is it any of your business which skirt I’m chasing?”

I clenched my fists and stormed over to the counter, trying to keep a lid on the rage bubbling in my chest. This confrontation had been a long time coming. All it had taken to push me over the edge was my desire for Emma.

“And for the record, Emma is not just some little skirt. You know her. Hell, you like her, which is saying something for you.”

She set her nose in the air as she took the first sip of her drink. “I like lots of people.”

“You like lots of people with money,” I corrected. “The list of people you like that don’t have money is actually quite small. In fact, I’m fairly certain it consists only of Emma and Haddie.”

“Used to consist of Emma and Haddie,” she snipped. “Now it’s only Haddie.”

My rage grew.

“So now you suddenly dislike Emma just because she wants to be with me? Are you insane?”

“I dislike Emma because she’s clearly trying to get something out of you,” she countered. “You may think it snobbish of me to take an instant dislike to the women in your life who come from average means, but it’s just common sense. People always want what they don’t have, and if they don’t have money, it makes sense for them to do everything they can to try to get it. Including tricking my son into a completely inappropriate and ludicrous relationship.”

Ah, so that’s what this was about. I should have guessed. Mother always tried to pretend that my father’s numerous affairs didn’t bother her, but they did. They always had. She considered herself to be above the women he took to bed, which made it hurt all the more when her husband chose them over her.

In most cases, Father’s lovers cared more about what he could give them than who he was as a man. I knew Paulina considered him a fool to give in to such immoral motivations. She’d built herself an ivory tower a long time ago from which to look down upon the peasantry with disdain. I hadn’t realized until now how problematic it was going to be if I let her stay there.

“She’s not tricking me, Mother,” I said gently, reaching out to rest my hand over hers. “She had similar concerns and I ended up having to convince her that this was a good idea. I’ve thought this through, I promise you.”

“I just wanted you to have a good wife and a secure legacy,” she said miserably. “Is it so bad for a mother to want the best for her son?”

“I understand that, but none of the women you tried to set me up with would have been the best for me,” I replied. “They bored me, Mother. Do you want me to end up bored for the rest of my life?

She sighed. It was a long, dramatic sigh. “No, I don’t.” After a small pause, during which she downed the rest of her gin, she continued. “And I suppose Emma will make a suitable wife. Perhaps even a good one.”

My triumph at having gotten my way was cut short by her last comment. I shook my head.

“I’m not marrying her.”

Paulina’s eyes snapped to mine. It always amazed me how a woman who was half drunk a good share of the time could always produce such icy stares. “What?”

“I’m not marrying anyone,” I said. “I still have no plans to marry. This isn’t news to you.”

I had told her a few times now that I had no plans to ever marry. It wasn’t my fault she never listened.

Her face grew stern, then cold. When she spoke, it was with the angry rasp she used to use on my father, which had always reminded me of a growling cat. “You’re a selfish little twit, aren’t you?”

She knew she couldn’t force me to get married, which meant the only viable response was emotional blackmail. Not happening.

“What I choose to do with my life has nothing to do with you,” I said, trying to stay calm. “The sooner you get that through your head, the sooner we’ll start having conversations that don’t end in shouting.”

“I’ve never shouted at you a day in my life!” she shouted. “You’re just like your father, except at least he had the decency to continue the Westfield bloodline to protect the company.”

“Protect the company? Are you fucking serious?”

“Don’t you swear at me!”

“I’ll fucking swear if I want! You’re being ridiculous.”

Paulina took a step back and tilted her head so that, despite me being much taller than she was, she could still glare sourly down her nose at me. “Get out.”

I didn’t need her to tell me a second time. For a moment, it had looked like we were going to resolve our issues, but now we were just fighting about something else. I’d had enough.

I slammed the door on the way out and cursed all the way to my car. Anger rolled off me in waves, making my skin hot and my thoughts churn. I was so tired of dancing around my mother’s moods and whims.

I needed to let off some steam. I needed to let off some steam or else I was going to explode.

 

Emma flung open the door with a wide smile, a smile that immediately slid off when she saw the look on my face.

“What’s wrong, Max? Everything—”

I cut her off, pushing my way into the apartment and slamming my mouth down on hers. I kicked the door closed with my heel and pushed her further inside, practically tearing the clothes from her body.

“Max...” she moaned against my lips. “What...”

“No talking,” I commanded. “Not until after I’ve fucked you senseless.”

She groaned and allowed me to continue guiding her to the bedroom. There still wasn’t much furniture in her apartment, so even though my cock was threatening to punch out of my pants, I would at least have to wait until we made it to her bed. The only furniture she had was a small desk holding her laptop and an open bag of pretzels.

Once in the bedroom I pressed her against the wall and ripped down her shorts, taking the panties with them.

I wasn’t wasting any time.

On my knees in front of her, I anchored my hands on her delicious ass and pulled her pussy against my face. She moaned, and I started lapping up her sweet nectar, watching her tits rise and fall with each ragged breath. She grabbed the wall for support as I upped my assault, sucking on her clit and getting her nice and wet for me.

I didn’t have time to give her the attention she deserved today. I needed a rough, brutal fuck and I needed it now.

She whimpered when I pulled away a couple minutes later, clearly disoriented. I didn’t blame her. I tossed her naked body onto the bed, face down, yanking her hips up before dropping my pants and boxers to the floor. My rod stood straight and proud, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip. I’d been thinking about her the whole ride over and it showed. Thank God she was on birth control and we’d both gotten tested already. The time it would take to put on a condom right now might have killed me.

I pulled my shirt off and then covered her body with mine, kissing and biting along her neck and shoulder as I tested her slick folds with my fingers. She was dripping wet, just like I knew she would be. I groaned.

Her body felt so good, so hot and tight, and perfect. I lined my cock up with her entrance and thrust in to the hilt, eliciting a shocked cry from my quarry. I didn’t give her time to adjust, pulling out and sinking in again before she even had a chance to catch her breath.

Emma’s moans filled the room as I rammed into her over and over again. My fingers sank into the flesh of her hips, a visual that I’d remember until my dying day. I squeezed as hard as I could and fucked as hard as I could. Her moans mixed with the slapping sound of skin against skin, creating a symphony of sex that was music to my ears. My balls tightened, and the pleasure became so powerful that I knew I was only moments from erupting. But Emma hadn’t cum yet. I’d have to do something about that.

I slowed down and wrapped my arms around her torso, kneading her plump breasts in my hands. I pinched and flicked her tight buds, making her moan even louder. My teeth dug into her back just the way I knew she liked. In that moment, I was more beast than man. Something dark and wild surged through me, and Emma responded to it. Her pussy clenched around me like a vice and I roared as I sank into her again, finally reaching my climax as the last spasms of her pussy began to subside.

She collapsed onto the bed. I lay down beside her, spent.

“What was that about?” she murmured a moment later.

I opened one eye to see her staring at me, a questioning look on her pretty, blushing face.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said.

She groaned, “You know I’m going to.”

I rolled her underneath me and held her, willing the questions out of her mind with my lips against her forehead. I couldn’t tell her about my fight with Paulina today. She was already so spooked about what kind of future we had together, and telling her about the content of our argument would only spook her more.

For now, I held her and all my frustrations flushed away with my breaths. A small thought kicked in at the back of my head, one I’d never expected to have.

Would it be so bad if this was for the rest of my life?

Chapter 21

Emma

The lines twisted on the page, forming something abstract that I hadn’t quite figured out yet. The best drawings, in my opinion, didn’t take shape until they were already halfway done. I liked sketching still life as much as the next artist, but for me it was all about how the lines blended, strayed, and worked together on the page to eventually form a picture.

I was enjoying Max’s gift, which he had brought back to my place earlier this week. I hadn’t been able to enjoy drawing for a long time, and somehow his support and encouragement had gotten me out of that funk. Max Westfield was my muse. I chuckled to myself as I wondered what he would think if he knew that.

Unfortunately, there were things about my relationship with Max that I wasn’t enjoying. Namely, the uncertainty. He seemed all about me now, but how long would his attention last? Surely he’d grow tired of me eventually.

With that in mind, I’d been trying to hold back emotionally. That was easier said than done when he kissed like the devil, but treated me like an angel. I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough to end it if I needed to, if it started to become obvious how much more involved and committed I was than he was. It was a sad thought, one I felt guilty for having. Still.

My pity party for one was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was surprising, though not too much so. Willow had a key to the building, though it was unlike her to drop by unannounced. I laid my drawing down on the desk and walked over to the door, already wondering if I had enough wine in the fridge for the two of us.

The familiar face that greeted me was not nearly as welcome as Willow’s would have been. I glared at Lance and tensed, ready to slam the door in his face. As if reading my intent, he shot out a hand to stop me.

“Wait,” he said. “Can you just listen to me for a sec?”

I pushed against the door but it wouldn’t budge. He was much stronger than I was. I didn’t dignify his question with a response and instead tried body slamming the door. Nothing.

Lance barged right through me, like I was nothing more than a bag of twigs. For a guy as skinny as he was, he knew how to throw his weight around when he wanted to.

“Lance, I don’t want you here.” I held the door open as he started circling the small living room, looking at my sparse furnishings with more than a hint of disdain on his face.

“Tough.” He stopped in the middle of the living room and faced me, hands folded over his chest. “I’m not leaving here until you talk to me.”

He had the same determination in his eyes that he did when he was playing a particularly tricky level on his X-Box. I knew then that he wasn’t going to leave, so I closed the door and gestured for him to start talking.

Lance cleared his throat. “I love you, Emma. I’ve always loved you, but I needed some time apart to see that.”

I scoffed. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have said the things you said.”

“Which things?”

“Any of them!” I threw my hands in the air. “The insults, the breakup, the manipulation! You’ve been horrible to me for longer than we’ve been broken up, but you’ve been extra horrible to me since then and I’m tired of it. I don’t know how much clearer I could be about not wanting you in my life!”

It felt good. Damn good. It was the first time since we broke up that I knew I was completely, one hundred percent over him. There was no ache anymore, no hollowness. I’d stripped away all traces of need for Lance, leaving only anger.

Righteous, bloody anger.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “You’re confused. I hurt you, I know that. But I can make things better, baby.”

He stepped toward me and I took a pointed step back.

“No.” I put up my hand to stop him. “Don’t come any closer to me. I don’t want you. I don’t love you. I just want you out of my sight.”

Visible irritation crept into Lance’s features, pinching his mouth and creasing his brow. For someone who couldn’t hold down a job for more than a couple months, he took failure very hard. Maybe it was because this scene was altogether too similar to how he’d dumped me in the first place. Served him right.

“You’re making a big fucking mistake,” he spat. “You’re just a cheap slut from the wrong side of the tracks. You’d be nothing without me. You’d be back in Illinois if it weren’t for me, probably with a few kids hanging off you. You should be grateful for everything I’ve done for you.”

While it was true that at the beginning of our relationship, Lance had helped me transition into city life, and he had gotten me through a couple rough spots, but I never would have gone back. There was nothing there for me. There never had been.

“I’m making a mistake?” I scoffed. “That’s rich. You’re the one who made the mistake and you know it. You’re just pissed because you’re alone and I’ve moved on.”

“Moved on? Is that what you’re calling your little tryst with that pompous douchebag?”

This was getting ridiculous. I didn’t know whether it was his allergy to success or just a side effect of getting older, but the bitterness that had steadily crept into Lance over the past year was reaching its peak. At least I hoped it was. I couldn’t imagine him being any worse than this, and if I tried to imagine it, all that came up was something quite scary.

“It’s not a little tryst,” I took a step toward him, showing him I wouldn’t be bullied. Not in my own home. Not ever. “We’re a couple, and he treats me better than you ever did.”

“Of course he does,” Lance sneered. “He’s some spoiled brat with a silver spoon in his mouth. I bet all he has to do to get you wet is open up his wallet.”

“He’s a good man, which is more than I can say for you.”

“And he’s rich.”

“What’s your point?” I asked. “I don’t care about that stuff. I never have. You’re the one who’s always been so obsessed with money, but you can’t keep any around long enough to pay the bills. You probably only want me back so you don’t have to get a fucking job. I stood by you and supported you without a single complaint, even though I had plenty to complain about, and you tossed me out on the street. If you think for one second that there is anything you can do or say to hurt me or gather my favor, you’re even more out of it than I thought.” I pointed to the door. “Get out.”

“I wouldn’t want to be here with you any longer anyway,” he snarled. “You stink of whore.”

I laughed, “Good one.”

Lance tossed me one last seething look before wrenching open the door and slamming it closed behind him. I let out a gust of breath as soon as he was out of sight, amazed that I’d managed to keep it together. My eyes stung with tears, but I couldn’t tell whether they were tears of anger, sadness, or relief. Perhaps a mix of all three.

I headed back to my desk and sank back down onto the chair, picking up my pencil with a shaky hand and channeling this odd combination of feelings into swooping arcs and scribbles on the page. It would never be a masterpiece, but this scrambled mass of black and gray had captured the emotions of the day so perfectly that I knew I’d never be able to get rid of it.

It was hard, what I’d just done. It felt good, but the emotional aftermath took some slogging to get through. I was shaken from the encounter, and it took some time and a bit of wine before I calmed down again.

Still, at the end of the day, at least it was over. No more Lance. That conversation had an air of finality about it, one that I was happy to sink into.

No more Lance.

From here on out, the only man in my life was Max. And I’d keep him as long as I could.

Chapter 22

Max

One thing I didn’t consider before having copious amounts of filthy sex with my personal assistant, was how tempting it would be to call her into my office in the middle of the day to make more tawdry memories. It was like I could feel her presence, not twenty feet from where I sat. Just knowing that made my cock stiffen, and I shifted in my chair as I went through my emails and tried to ignore it.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to cross that line yet, the line between having a relationship outside of the office and taking advantage of that relationship while we were both at work. It wasn’t appropriate, but I wasn’t sure how much longer that was going to put me off.

Emma was wearing a tight blouse today that showed off more cleavage than normal, and the thought of lowering my face to suck on those swollen globes made me too horny to stand. It wouldn’t have to take long. I could call her in here right now, open her blouse and have my way with her. Within ten minutes I could have her fucked and sent back on her way. Nobody would be the wiser. And if someone did suspect? Who fucking cared. I was the boss, and if I wanted to fuck my assistant in my office then I was going to.

My hand hovered over the intercom button. Was thinking with my dick a good idea in this situation?

Just as I was about to press the button and call Emma in, she buzzed me.

“Max, Jeremy is here to see you.”

I was nearly about to ask her to send him in, resettling in my chair to hide my erection, when he burst through the door. Emma trailed behind him, her pretty face marred by a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I tried to stop him.” She glared sourly at Jeremy. “He would not be stopped.”

“Not a very good gatekeeper, are you?” Jeremy joked, ruffling her hair.

Since Emma and I had officially become a couple, Jeremy had started treating her less like a member of my staff and more like a little sister. I could tell it vexed Emma to no end. Jeremy was a dick of a brother.

“You know the drill. I shouldn’t have to physically stop you from coming in,” she complained.

Jeremy winked slyly at her. “Hey, how’s Willow doing?”

Emma groaned and turned on her heel, closing the door behind her with just a bit more force than necessary. I laughed at the exchange.

“One of these days she’s going to punch you.”

“And one of these days I’m going to be very surprised and impressed,” he replied tartly, folding himself onto the chair in front of my desk.

Excitement shone like sunbeams from his face. Whatever had brought him barging in here must have been big, because he’d been sitting for a few seconds now and so far hadn’t touched a single thing on my desk.

“So, go on.” I waved a hand in his direction. “You have my undivided attention.”

Jeremy wiggled his eyebrows. “You know the Bertrand Group?”

“Can’t say I’m familiar.”

“Well you should be.” Jeremy picked up a pencil and started rolling it between his fingers. “They’re one of the largest luxury hotel chains in the Caribbean. Or at least they were.”

I cocked a brow. “What happened?”

“Life happened.” He snapped the pencil in two, evidently to add to the drama of the charade. “They’re downsizing and selling off some of their properties. It’s a huge opportunity for Goodman-Westfield.”

I didn’t need Jeremy to tell me that. I’d been looking at branching out our assets into hotels and resorts for some time now. It was the next logical step in my desire to expand the company rather than simply maintaining my father’s empire. Expanding profits was one thing, but I wanted to grow capital. This could be big.

“Much as I wish you would leave my office supplies unscathed when you come visit,” I said, sending a pointed look at the broken pencil pieces he was now fiddling with. “I do appreciate the news. How soon are they looking to sell?”

Jeremy grinned. “As soon as possible.”

“Then I’d better get moving. Can you forward me the details and I’ll get Emma to start making travel arrangements?”

Jeremy nodded, but made no move to leave. Seeing that he clearly wasn’t finished, I leaned back in my chair and waited.

“You’re going to have to charm the current owner, Baldric Hammond,” he told me.

“That’s why I’m going myself and not sending you to do it for me.” The hint of irritation in my voice was more than enough to let him know I didn’t appreciate being told how to run my business.

He chuckled. “Just trying to help. The competition for the properties is going to be fierce. I know of at least two large firms considering them right now, though nobody has actually met with Hammond yet to talk details.”

“Then I’ll be the first to do so.” I waved him off. “Go send me the details. If I’m dropping everything to head to the Caribbean, I’m going to need all the time I have to prepare.”

Jeremy was evidently dissatisfied with this. All he wanted to do when he was in a good mood was hang out, which was fun after we’d won a case in court, but frustrating when I still had other things I needed to do. He set the broken pencil pieces down on my desk and stood, adjusting his tie.

“Well, you know where I am if you need me.”

“Indeed I do.” I grabbed the pencil pieces and tossed them in the trash.

Just as Jeremy reached the door I called out to him, and he paused before he opened it, looking at me expectantly.

“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate you keeping an eye out for stuff like this.”

Jeremy gave a solemn nod. He knew how much it meant to me, and he also knew how hard I worked to pursue my goals. It was just one of the many things I liked about him, though sometimes the list of things I didn’t like seemed much longer. Case in point, him stealing a glass paperweight from my bookcase on his way out the door. I would get it back eventually. Probably.

“Emma,” I called through the intercom. “Could you come into my office, please.”

Emma arrived in the doorway a moment later, smiling pleasantly. “Jeremy sure seemed excited. What’s up?”

“An opportunity,” I said, standing.

She closed the door and walked toward the desk. “What kind of opportunity?”

“The opportunistic kind.”

I grinned and walked around the desk to pull her into my arms before she could protest. She tried to wiggle free, but I was stronger, and soon she gave into the hug and leaned her head against my chest.

Emma was always so funny about how we acted at work, even though it was common knowledge we were together. She thought it was unwise to be so open about our relationship, but I knew better. Half the people in this building weren’t people at all, but vipers poised to strike as soon as they got the next juicy bit of gossip. It was better to be up front with it, even if it was awkward at times.

I pulled back from Emma and pecked her on the lips. She smiled.

“We’re going on a business trip,” I said. “Do you have a bikini?”

Emma flushed. “As my boss, I don’t think you’re allowed to ask that.”

I chuckled. “I’m not asking as your boss.” I nuzzled my face back in her hair, kissing her crown. “I’m asking as the man who’s taking you out tonight and fucking you within an inch of your life when we get home.”

She gasped and automatically looked behind her, as if someone could walk in at any moment. I was sure this anxiety would wear off eventually, but it was good to know that any sordid encounters in the office would take some building up to.

When she turned back, Emma’s eyes were dark and her lips were parted just a little, like she was waiting for my kiss. There was way too much to accomplish today for me to take them right now, though Lord knows I wanted to.

“So, baby, do you have a bikini?”

She shook her head.

I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and grabbed a few bills, pressing them into her palm. Her eyes widened and she tried to give the money back, but I put my hands up and stepped away.

“It’s just a bathing suit,” I told her.

She frowned. “There’s like three hundred dollars here. That’s way too much to buy a swimsuit.”

I sank back down behind my desk and clicked into my email. Jeremy’s message with the details of the company had already arrived, and I opened it with a small smile. The resort we needed to visit in order to meet with Baldric Hammond was in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. Nice.

“Then buy some new clothes, too,” I said.

She put a defiant hand on her hip. “I don’t need any new clothes.”

I caught her gaze, all traces of humor gone from my face. “You will after I rip yours off you tonight for being so bad at taking direction.”

Emma’s face flashed bright red and she swallowed hard. I could see how aroused she was just from the way her fist tightened around the wad of cash, and how her thighs reflexively clenched. My cock was instantly hard again, but this time I really did need to work.

“If you need anything else, you know where to find me,” Emma said, spinning on her heel and making a hasty retreat.

This was a good day. If my mother and I weren’t fighting, she’d be happy with this too. Soon enough, the Goodman-Westfield brand would be bigger than ever, and the only thing standing in my way was a spot of competition and a couple thousand miles of ocean.

I could do that. I could win this. In many ways, I was not my father’s son, but in this way, I always would be.

Chapter 23

Emma

The warm, humid breeze tickled the hairs on the back of my neck, sending a shiver through my body. Still, I didn’t move an inch. I was completely in the zone, laser focused on the little boat bobbing a couple hundred yards away from shore on waves like rolling sapphires.

I couldn’t see anybody on it, and I liked to imagine that it was abandoned. It seemed more beautiful that way, even though I knew nobody would just leave a perfectly good boat out on the water like that for no reason.

That was what I liked about drawing, though. That boat had a story, one that I might never know, but my drawing would always have a story I was intimately familiar with. Nobody but me decided how the picture would come out, and I could do whatever I wanted with it. In my drawing, the boat was full of mystery and intrigue. It was waiting.

It was probably strange to add such a somber mood to my drawing when I was working in such an idyllic place. The heat blasted me from all sides, sending trickles of sweat down the back of my neck and under my loose, flowy top. It was one of the new ones I’d bought with the money Max gave me for a swim suit—money that I’d considered sneaking under his pillow the next time I was over at his place.

I spent it, in the end, because the idea of having some new clothes and a nice new bikini delivered temptation in excess of my pride. I still intended to distance myself from his money as much as possible, but it was okay to splurge a little sometimes, right?

I guess the reason I felt so guilty about it was because of what Lance had said. Because of what he’d compared me to. I didn’t like taking money from anyone, especially these days, because I enjoyed my independence. I didn’t like taking money from Max, because I didn’t want to feel like a prostitute.

I wondered how the man in question was doing right now. He was in business meetings all afternoon and had been stressed to the nines since he first found out about the properties for sale. He wanted them so badly I worried about what would happen if he didn’t manage to obtain them. Apparently Baldric Hammond was known for playing hard ball, and today’s big meeting with him was by far the most important event on their calendar while they were here.

Maybe I should try to get Max to come out here afterward to relax and decompress. There was no way anybody could be stressed out when they were in an environment like this. The sand was so soft it was almost like powder, shining bright white against the mid afternoon sun. Running all along the sandy bank behind me were palm trees of varying sizes. Their shade was keeping me sane in the impossible heat. Outside of the shade it was boiling hot, but here, with a light breeze whispering over my skin, and the sound of the surf tumbling up the beach, I was perfectly content.

My drawing was turning out to be decent, too. I thought about showing it to Max, but decided against it. I hadn’t shown my drawings to anybody in a long time. I knew it wasn’t Max’s fault that Lance was such an asshole, but I needed a little more time before I started peeling off all the layers of harm Lance had done to me. Max was helping that process along, and for the first time ever I felt like I could even tackle problems in my life that pre-dated Lance.

God, I missed Max. It was rare that we went a full day without seeing each other, since we were always either at work together or around each other on the weekends. The fact that he’d slipped out of bed at seven in the morning and wouldn’t finish for at least another half an hour was giving me withdrawals.

I couldn’t wait for his meetings to finish up so we could start enjoying this business trip properly. I hadn’t had a vacation in a long time and I was excited to use this trip as one, even if we were only here for a few days and fun was not necessarily on the agenda.

Since Max should be finished for the day soon, I decided to head over and meet him.

I stopped at our room first to drop off my stuff, and changed into a flirty floral dress while I was there. I twirled in front of the mirror like an idiot, then fluffed up my hair a bit and rubbed off the makeup that had migrated down my face, pooling under my eyes.

Being with Max had created a change in me. I was happier. I twirled in front of mirrors and took delight in wearing fun dresses, just because I could. It was a nice way to feel, almost like being a child again.

After leaving the room, I headed to the bar and ordered two pina coladas. I couldn’t honestly say I’d ever seen Max drink anything other than champagne, wine, or gin, and I was excited to see how he would react to the sugary treat. I was also excited to taste it on his lips.

Max’s final meeting was in a private conference room just off the lobby, so I waited in the lobby for him to finish. It was an open-air space, with a circular skylight fifty feet above me and open galleries for several floors above, from which spilled tons of beautiful greenery. Vines and leaves and a few delicate white flowers curled languidly toward the floor, waving with each breath of wind.

I couldn’t believe that if all went well, Max would soon own this building. Well, his company would, but still. Lance hadn’t even owned a house or a car, and now I was going out with a guy who commanded enough power to own an entire luxury hotel in the Caribbean.

Correction—several entire luxury hotels in the Caribbean.

It was surreal. And here I was, wearing a floral dress, waiting for him to finish a business meeting with two pina coladas in hand.

I was about a third of the way into my drink when I spotted a familiar head of dark hair emerge from a door near the reception desk. Max. I shot to my feet, a grin on my face from ear to ear.

He was still talking to the man he was with and hadn’t seen me yet. I assumed the guy was Baldric, but it could have just been his assistant. He didn’t look particularly imposing or important. He had a squat, round build and dusty gray hair that poked out at odd angles on his head. He ran his hand through it, which I imagined was the root of the problem, and I noticed his fingers were laden with gold rings.

Max spotted me finally, and I smiled, raising the two glasses in my hand in greeting. He started toward me with loping strides, still talking to his host, who toddled along beside him.

“Emma Valentine, this is Baldric Hammond,” Max said, sweeping a hand between us.

So, this was the hotel’s current owner. Crap. I was embarrassed that he’d seen me waiting for Max out here like this, and I didn’t particularly want to involve him in our already complicated work and life relationship.

“I’m Max’s personal assistant,” I said. “Pleased to meet you. I would shake your hand...”

Max nimbly plucked the fuller glass out of my hand and stared at it like he’d never seen anything more outrageous.

Now my hand was free, and I extended it toward Baldric. His irises were gray and incredibly pale. It was like staring into a snowstorm at night. He squeezed my hand firmly and smiled, exposing two rows of disconcertingly straight white teeth.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Valentine.” He shook my hand, holding it for a little longer than necessary. “I hope I get to see you more during your stay.”

Baldric spoke in a clear English accent that sounded as if it came right from the gutters of London. It was how I would imagine Jack the Ripper to sound.

“Yeah, totally,” I said.

Baldric’s gaze raked over me from tip to tail, and I swallowed hard to manage my discomfort. Maybe I should have introduced myself as Max’s girlfriend. If I had, then maybe he wouldn’t be looking at me like that. I cursed myself inwardly for my awkwardness.

Max cleared his throat. “We should be going,” he said. “Emma and I have some things to discuss.”

“Yes, of course.” Baldric tore his gaze away from me, though it seemed to take some effort on his part. “I’ll have my decision for you in a few days. Until that time, please take advantage of all the amenities. Just don’t start taking down measurements yet, eh?”

He laughed uproariously, like he’d just made the single funniest joke in the history of jokes. Neither Max or I laughed, though I noticed Max cracked a polite smile. With a hand on my waist, he led me over to the elevator.

“We’re going back to the room?” I asked.

Max nodded, tipping his head forward to sniff the drink.

The elevator doors slid open and I followed him inside, chuckling. “It’s just a pina colada,” I said. “It’s not going to kill you.”

“No, of course not.”

The doors closed and Max released a long breath, then took a sip of the drink. I watched his face relax a little, and when he turned back to me there was something bitter in his gaze.

“I didn’t mean to turn my nose up at your thoughtful gift,” he said. “It made my day to see you standing there waiting for me. It’s just...” He raked a hand through his hair, scowling. “The way Baldric looked at you, it drove me fucking crazy to see him look at you like that.”

My heart gave a wet thump in my chest. Max grabbed me around the waist with his free hand and tugged me against his chest. He pressed his lips against my crown, and swayed me back and forth. It was a kind, gentle gesture, one I appreciated more than Max could possibly know. It was moments like these that made me wonder if maybe we did have a future together.

“He’s gone now,” I said. “Did the meeting go well?”

“It’s hard to say,” he murmured into my hair. “I’ll just have to wait for his decision.”

The doors opened and we stepped out, heading down the hall toward our room.

“You seem stressed,” I observed.

Max chuckled and took a sip of the drink. “I’m not.”

“There’s nothing wrong if you are,” I said. “It’s a big deal, and I know how much you want this.”

Max grabbed my arm and stopped me, wheeling me around to face him. There was fire in his eyes.

“I’m not stressed,” he said. “I’m angry because Baldric Hammond just undressed you with his eyes and I didn’t do anything to stop it. I wanted to clock the guy.”

I frowned. “You couldn’t do that. He’s not going to let you buy his properties if you punch him.”

Max lowered his face to mine. The scent of pineapple wafted from his lips.

“You’re right. Which is why I didn’t do it. But it fucking killed me to see that. Which is why we’re heading back to our room instead of to the bar to have a drink and enjoy the afternoon.”

I gave him an incredulous look. “You want to go hide in the room and pout?”

His lip curled, but it was more of a snarl than a smile. It sent waves of heat to my core and I shivered unexpectedly. The things this man could do to me with just a look.

“We’re going to the room because I want fuck you so hard that neither of us even remember who Baldric Hammond is. Understand?”

My mouth went dry, and I nodded dumbly.

Max smirked and continued walking down the hall, one hand clasped tightly around mine. I had to hustle to keep up with his pace, but I would’ve been happy to sprint there if he wanted. My body was already responding to the promise of his words.

We reached the door and he coolly unlocked it and opened it up, gesturing for me to enter. I did, and turned to face him as he let the door close behind him. I reached for his pina colada, but he pulled it out of my reach.

“We’re not done with this yet.”

“We’re not?”

He grinned, “Get naked and lie on the bed.”

I didn’t hesitate a second. I put down my drink on the bedside table and began to strip, watching him through my lashes and seeing the telltale bulge grow in his pants. He was still wearing his normal dress shirt and slacks, though at least he hadn’t worn the suit jacket on top of it. He began to slowly unbutton his shirt as I pulled down my panties and undid my bra. Finally, all my clothes lay in a pile at my feet.

“The bed,” he murmured.

I climbed up unto the large bed and lay on top of it, holding myself up on my elbows to watch him. He came up beside me, shirt unbuttoned, trousers tented, and used his free hand to push me flat on my back.

My heart was running wildly in my chest. Max leaned over me, one hand on the bed for support, and began to pour some of the creamy drink in the dip of my navel.

I flinched. “It’s cold!”

“Don’t move or it’ll get all over the bed,” he warned, lips quirked. “You don’t want to sleep in sticky sheets, do you?”

I zipped my lips and tried to stay as still as possible, even when he retreated from the bed. I turned my head to watch as he put the drink down and finished stripping off his shirt, removing his pants afterward. Slowly. Too slowly.

I was afraid to speak and risk spilling the beverage. I knew we’d only just end up calling for new sheets, but I wanted to please him. I wanted to follow his commands to the letter, even if he was taking far too long to get naked, and I was too wet to speak.

Max returned to the bed, leaning over to kiss my mouth. It was a slow, sensual kiss, one filled with longing. He’d been missing me too. He slowly began to move down my body, kissing my neck, then my breasts, then my ribs. By the time he reached my stomach, I was quivering with need.

Max covered the spot of pina colada on my belly with his mouth and began to lap at it, making me moan and shake with my desire to arch up. His tongue swirled and dipped, soft, wet and so hot. And it was just as he said—I forgot all about Baldric, or even where we were. My existence had narrowed down to a few square feet of space and Max’s mouth on my skin.

He finished licking up the drink and moved to straddle me, his hard cock heavy against my stomach as he leaned over to kiss me. His mouth was cold and sweet, and when he stuck his tongue in my mouth I sucked on it with relish. He groaned with pleasure, and I felt his cock twitch.

I reached for him, taking him in my hand and stroking down his shaft as best as I could, given the angle. It amazed me how one feather-light touch from a girl as small as me could make this hulking beast of a man tremble. He was putty in my hands and I loved knowing that. Feeling that.

Alright.

Here it was.

Time for a little dirty talk, something I’d recently been building myself up to.

“I want your cock in my mouth,” I said huskily.

Max stilled. “Fuck. You’re so hot.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

In one quick movement Max flipped us over so that I was now nestled between his legs, my face hovering over his.

This was my way of making him forget. It wasn’t hard for me to forget because, despite being creeped out by Baldric, his appraisal hadn’t really bothered me that much. Sure, it was creepy, but I was used to dudes checking me out. It was just part of being a girl.

But I could tell that it really bothered Max, and that made my heart soar. I didn’t want him to be irritated, of course, but it didn’t hurt to see him protective over me like that. This was my chance to reward him and calm him down.

And I was going to enjoy every second of it.

I slowly trailed kisses down his chest, feeling the muscles flex under my lips as I went. I barely rubbed against his cock the whole way down, making him moan and twitch.

He had such a beautiful dick. I’d really grown to appreciate it over the past few weeks. It was thick and long, and curved just a little bit upward, which made it perfect for hitting my g-spot. I loved going down on him, even if it was a bit much to put in my mouth all at once. Still, a girl could try.

I gripped his meat in my hand and licked the tip. It was a little salty with pre-cum, a uniquely male taste that was all him. His chest rumbled with a primal growl. I wrapped my lips around the tip and added a little suction, drawing him in further until I was halfway down the shaft. I went back to the tip and repeated this motion while I squeezed at the base, adding just the amount of pressure I knew he liked. My other hand fondled his balls, loving how cool and velvety they felt in my hands.

“Fuck, baby. That feels so good.”

I moaned over his shaft, and the vibration made him groan. I tried to take more of him, relaxing my throat muscles and pushing myself down as far as I could. He filled my throat, stretching it, just like he stretched my pussy.

I began to work him in earnest at a moderate pace, bobbing up and down his shaft and sucking as hard as I could. He moaned and thrust up toward my mouth. I responded by going down further, taking him in almost to the root. My eyes watered with the effort, but my body was on fire. Pleasing him like this was so erotic, so transcendent, that I wondered if I could cum just from having him in my mouth alone. I moved a hand between my legs to try to alleviate some of the raw need, and the next time Max looked down to meet my eyes he swore.

“I’m not going to last much longer baby,” he groaned. “Your mouth is too fucking good.”

I chuckled and redoubled my efforts, both on him and myself. I was ready to explode, and so was he. His hips continued thrusting up toward my mouth, hands tangling in my hair as he sought his climax.

Max grunted and exploded in my mouth. I sucked down the salty liquid until there was nothing left, then licked his shaft clean and kissed his thighs as he came back down to earth. The satisfied smile on his face was the most wonderful thing I’d ever seen. This man would be the end of me. Nobody could make me feel as good as he did, which surely meant that nobody could hurt me as much as he did.

“Baby.” He grabbed my shoulders and hauled me up against his chest, pressing a sweet kiss to my lips. “That was incredible.”

I grinned. “You are incredible.”

He kissed me again, harder, sucking my lower lip between his teeth and clamping down just enough to send a sting of pleasure to my thighs. I was still throbbing with desire.

“What am I going to do with you?” Max rolled me onto my back, wedging a knee between my thighs and making me moan at the sudden but pleasurable friction. “To start, I think I’m going to give you exactly what every good girl deserves.”

“And what’s that?”

He grinned, already sliding down my body. “Everything.”

Chapter 24

Max

Emma smiled at me, swirling her wine around her glass. It was a look that told me there were a thousand words she wanted to say, but didn’t have the time, so she condensed them down into one, truly beautiful smile. I liked it… a lot.

I also liked the way the setting sun cast golden light over her features, drawing out strands of burnt copper in her hair. It was unfortunate that Baldric was taking so long to make his decision, but the past couple days had been a welcome respite from the stresses of our New York lives.

Emma was more at ease here, with both our relationship and her feelings in general. The things that had bothered her at home no longer mattered. I only hoped that when we left this place she could take this joy with her.

“You’re staring at me.”

I grinned, “You’re worth staring at.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Emma fluttered her eyelashes, and that simple gesture was enough to make my pants feel suddenly a little too constrictive.

“I was just wondering what I did get such an amazing assistant,” I teased.

Emma chuckled. “You set the bar low and held interviews.”

“Low? Nonsense. You don’t even know your own value. I only hope that one day I can help you realize it.”

Emma smiled down at her glass, shaking her head slightly. “Are you telling me that as my boss or my boyfriend?”

“A little bit of both,” I said.

“Do you like being my boss?” Emma asked.

There was a measure of innocence in the question, like she was handing me a note asking if I liked her and my response would be a checkmark in one of two boxes. I always found her so alluring when she was like this—unaware of what she did to me, of the fires she stoked deep in my chest, and how they burned for her day and night.

“Of course I like being your boss,” I said, taking a sip of my own drink. “Besides the fact that you’re great at what you do, I like ordering you around.”

Something flashed in her eyes. She liked me ordering her around too, not that she’d admit it. It was something I’d noticed from the first time I kissed her. Her body was naturally responsive to my commands. It was sexy as hell, especially when she seemed so damn innocent most of the time.

“Some people would say that makes you a bit of a control freak.” A wry smile ticked at the edges of her lips. It was irresistible. I leaned across the table and deposited a firm kiss over her smile, licking out at her lower lip with my tongue.

“Baby,” I murmured, not yet pulling away. Her heady scent filled my nostrils and sent my heart racing. “I am most definitely a control freak.”

I released her face from my hand and settled back down on my seat. Emma’s cheeks flushed pink and she took another drink of her wine.

I turned to look out at the setting sun, basking in the warm glow on my face. It was a beautiful place, and I would be more than happy to call it my own. I could imagine bringing Emma here, or to the other properties Baldric and I had discussed, after I took them over. I wouldn’t have to make too many changes to put the Goodman-Westfield touch on them, but those little changes are what would make the place seem wholly my own.

I’d glitz up the main bar a little, add more refinement to the restaurants, and I’d make sure every space was bursting with fragrant flowers. The flowers weren’t a Goodman-Westfield thing. I could just imagine Emma loving them. I would dedicate this entire resort to her if it made her happy, though I suspected the smallest of gestures would go much further if it meant more.

My phone buzzed on the table. Normally I wouldn’t have it out like this, but since I was here on business and waiting for a business call, it was necessary. I saw that it was Baldric and answered, smiling at Emma. She crossed her fingers.

“Max, my apologies for the delay. I’ve had a lot of thinking to do these past few days,” Baldric said. “Could you meet me at the bar for a drink?”

“Which bar?”

“The little snug one in the lobby. I can talk over my decision with you there. I think you’ll be very interested in what I have to say.”

My adrenaline skyrocketed. I loved the feeling of closing a deal, especially one I wanted as much as this. I was close to achieving some of the objectives I’d set for myself in my first few years of controlling my father’s business, and the thought was so seductive I wanted to laugh out loud.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I said.

“I’ll see you then.” He hung up.

I stuffed my phone in my pocket and looked up apologetically at Emma. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve got to go do this.”

She chuckled and waved a hand at me. “Don’t worry about it. We’re not here to eat romantic dinners anyway. I’m excited to hear what he has to say.”

I was already standing at the table, and I walked around to kiss her. “It sounds good,” I said between kisses, “but I don’t want to get my hopes up too high.”

Emma grabbed me by the collar and held me at eye level, golden eyes blazing. “Knock ‘em dead.”

I laughed, kissed her again, and with a wink was on my way.

The beachside restaurant wasn’t too far from the lobby, but I made my strides count anyway. I knew I wouldn’t lose Baldric’s interest just from taking too long to get to him, but I wanted this to be over as fast as possible so I could get back to my woman and celebrate the best way I knew how.

I caught sight of the resort’s owner right away, seated by himself at a little corner table with a full pitcher of beer. He flashed me that bright white grin of his as I approached, which should have put me at ease. There was something off about it though.

There was something off about him.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but as I sat down I reminded myself to be cautious with what I said. Business was a difficult beast, especially if one spoke with a careless tongue.

“Glad to see you,” Baldric said, pouring out a glass of beer for me. “You look like you’ve gotten a little sun since our last chat.”

“I’ve been enjoying the resort’s pleasures.” I smiled and took the glass from him, raising it in toast. “To our success.”

Baldric laughed. “Is that why you’re so successful, my boy? Always making toasts to success?”

“Better to toast for success, than to drink for failure.”

Baldric liked that. His laugh added fuel to my hopeful fire, though the suspense was starting to get to me. He must’ve noticed the tension in my features, because Baldric went straight to business.

“You’re a good guy, Max. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you a little, and out of all the interested parties in my properties, you’re the first to actually get off your ass and come down here to talk to me in person. It’s refreshing to see someone so single-minded in pursuit of their goals.”

I didn’t let my feathers fluff up too much. It was dangerous to let your ego get stroked in any business negotiation.

“I’ve enjoyed my visit,” I told him. “It hasn’t been all business. I’m surprised this place isn’t flooded with potential buyers.”

Baldric sighed and shrugged, refilling his glass with beer. “You know how it is,” he said, bushy eyebrows askew. “Everyone is so busy these days. Busy, busy, busy. I’m glad you’ve been having a fun time.” His eyes landed on me sharply. “I suppose it would be hard not to have a fun time when you’re in such pleasant company.”

At first I thought he was referring to himself, which I found odd, but then I realized he was talking about Emma. A chill ran down my spine, even as the balmy air caused sweat to prickle the back of my neck.

“Most experiences in life depend on the quality of the company one keeps and experiences them with,” I said, then attempted to change the subject. “I hate to be demanding, but I’d love to hear your decision regarding my offer.”

I’d made Baldric a very generous offer on his properties, though I doubted it was the best one he’d received. As a man with a great fortune already, Baldric was less interested in the money he could expect to gain and more likely to be swayed by personality. He wanted the resorts to go to someone he liked and trusted, especially since I expected he’d be back in the game in a few years after this downturn had abated.

Baldric’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, of course. My apologies. You know how old men do like to pontificate.”

He refilled the beer glass I’d barely touched and set the pitcher back down on the table, fixing me with a more sober expression.

“I’m sure you know that there’s been a great deal of interest in my resorts.”

I nodded.

“Even though I haven’t met with any other potential buyers yet in person, I have had several corporate lawyers blow steam up my ass, and I’ve had a lot of numbers thrown at me. What I’m really looking for is a proposition that goes above and beyond. I want a cherry on top. So far nobody has come forth with that cherry, but I think you’ve got exactly what I’m looking for.”

I didn’t like the way his glassy eyes narrowed into slits, ruddy, sunbaked cheeks shiny with perspiration.

“I’ll try to accommodate whatever you request,” I said. “As long as it’s within my means.”

He chuckled. “My only request, in addition to the offer you’ve made, is a little unorthodox. Nevertheless, I believe it is within your means.”

I gestured for him to continue, taking a sip of my cool beer to help calm the raging inferno in my belly. Baldric was building up to something and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like it.

“I found your personal assistant to be very, how shall I put this...” He trailed off, tapping a finger against his lips, completely oblivious to the horror rising in my throat. “Alluring. Yes. She’s very alluring. I would find myself compelled to accept your offer if I could go on a date with her.”

Did he even remember her name? The thought of Baldric getting within three feet of Emma sickened me. Like hell I’d offer her up to him like this.

“A date,” I repeated dully.

“Well, you know what I mean.” He winked. “A little wining and dining, a lot more afterwards.”

My stomach turned. I wanted to lean over the table, grab him by his collar, and make it clear to him in no uncertain terms that he would never so much as lay one greasy finger on her so help me. I also didn’t want to lose the sale.

I took another swallow of beer to calm myself down a little before speaking.

“I’m afraid that’s one request I cannot accommodate,” I said, as evenly as possible. “Emma isn’t just my assistant. We’re a couple.”

Baldric’s eyebrows rose in surprise and he leaned back a little, a sly grin working its way up his face. “Good on you, my boy. She’s quite the catch.”

“She is.” I tried to intone that I wanted no further talk of this, but Baldric persisted.

“It wouldn’t be my intent to steal her away from you, I assure you. It’s just a matter of both of us being in possession of something the other wants. I could be flexible with a couple of my conditions, if maybe you could be flexible with a couple of yours.”

Baldric nearly blinded me with the flash of his smile. His teeth had to be fake. I wondered if they would break like real teeth.

“Think of it as nothing more than, how shall I say this...” The idea hit him, and his lip curled. “A property exchange.” He chuckled. “So my boy, do we have a deal?”

Chapter 25

Emma

Sleep kept trying to drag me down, and I kept resisting. I wondered how long I could hold off, and glanced at the clock to see how long I’d managed to hold off already. The little alarm clock blazed that it was midnight.

Where was he?

I figured he was probably out celebrating with Baldric or something along those lines, which would have been fine if he’d just told me what I should expect. I didn’t like not knowing what was going on. I felt vulnerable and worried. And just a tad irritated. Okay, maybe more than a tad.

I was lying on top of the covers, saved from overheating only by the gentle ocean breeze that wafted through the open patio door. It was a hot, heavy night. As much as I hated waiting for Max like this, it was kind of nice just to lie and listen to the ocean. I hadn’t been out of New York much since I moved there. Hadn’t had the money. Now that I was with Max and making a decent income for the first time in my life, it was exciting to think that this could be just the start of a long line of adventures.

That dreamy thought was eventually what started to pull me under, dragging me deep into sleep’s warm embrace.

The door banged open. I bolted upright in bed, heart racing, wondering if I was about to be robbed. The violence with which someone had just entered the room was disconcerting to say the least. Except when the light flared in the room and I caught sight of the intruder, it wasn’t an intruder at all.

“Max?” I said. “What’s wrong?”

He was wrestling the suitcases out of the closet, and let the first one slam on the floor while he pulled out the next.

“We’re leaving,” he said shortly. “Start packing.”

I watched him for a moment, too bewildered to move. He seemed to be in his own head, muttering and cursing to himself as he started tossing things haphazardly into his suitcase.

I eased myself out of bed and started gathering things around me, feeling a bit like I was in a dream.

“Why are we going? Is everything okay?”

Max didn’t look at me. He stormed to the bathroom and I heard him slamming the cupboard doors as he retrieved his toiletries.

“We’re being kicked out.”

He said it with such finality that I didn’t want to press him any further. He was clearly stressed out, and if we were being kicked out, then I’d have the long plane ride home to question him on the details.

I started numbly gathering my things, piling them into my suitcase with only a little more finesse than Max. It was the middle of the night, and packing was already a pain in the ass. Repacking in a hurry was even worse, so I didn’t bother to fold anything.

Also, based on his choppy, rushed movements, I wasn’t sure I had time. He was acting like someone might bang on the door any moment and eject us from the room by force. It was scary, but I swallowed down my trepidation and hurried onto the deck to gather everything we’d left out there.

It felt like only a minute later that the two suitcases were standing, packed, in the middle of the room. The last thing I had to do was change out of my pajamas and into something a little more travel appropriate, so I put on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I was already sweating. The night air felt like you could cut through it with a knife, and I didn’t look forward to going outside.

“Are we going to another hotel?” I asked hopefully, even though I already knew the answer.

Max shook his head. “Got everything?”

“Yes.”

He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and stormed out the door. I grabbed mine and hurried after him.

There was already a car waiting for us at the front of the hotel when we got downstairs. I didn’t know if he’d called it or if it had been called for him. What could have possibly gone wrong? Why were we being kicked out? It didn’t make any sense. Things had seemed so positive only a few hours before, and I’d been sure that Baldric was about to reveal his intent to sell to Max.

Max pulled out his phone as soon as we were in the cab and started making phone calls, arranging for his private plane to be readied, and snapping at the person on the other line that he knew it was last minute. Normally I would be the one making these kinds of arrangements, but Max seemed like he needed something to do. Not to mention the fact that only his personal brand of authority was going to get the crew up and jumping at this hour.

We were almost at the airport when Max finally finished his calls. He also phoned Jeremy, and told him that Baldric’s lawyers would probably be in touch with him soon, but not to say anything until Max was home and they could talk properly. This piqued my interest even further.

Max still hadn’t said a word to me about why this was happening. In fact, he had barely even looked at me. He was so involved in whatever was going on in his own mind that I began to wonder if he’d notice if I didn’t end up on the plane with him. It was frustrating, and more than mildly hurtful. He had to know how confusing this was for me, right? It was cruel to not at least try to explain why I was being rushed off on an international flight in the middle of the night.

I waited until we were buckled in for take-off before I posed the question. He was seated opposite me in the luxurious leather recliner seats, staring out at the tarmac with a jaw so tight it looked like it had been wired shut.

“Max,” I said.

He grunted to acknowledge he’d heard me, but said nothing else.

That infuriated me even more.

“Max. Look at me.”

He shifted his eyes to meet mine. The intensity of those baby blues, rage swirling around the irises, startled me. I’d never seen him so angry.

“What happened?”

Max chewed the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I gritted my teeth. “Tough shit.”

His eyes flashed. For a second I thought he was going to stand up and storm over to the other side of the aircraft.

Why was he acting like such a dick? This wasn’t like him. Max was many things, but cruel wasn’t one of them. He had his asshole moments, sure, but I’d never seen him so cold. It was driving me insane, filling me with worries and doubts that normally wouldn’t even faze me. Now I was self-conscious, and I didn’t like feeling that way where he was concerned. It was hard enough that I had such strong feelings for him in the first place, feelings I worried he didn’t reciprocate.

When Max didn’t speak as quickly as I wanted, I continued. “You just dragged me out of bed and made me pack so fast I thought that an anvil was about to drop on us. You’ve told me nothing except that we got kicked out, but I think at this point I deserve a little more than that. Don’t you?

“Baldric is a dick. That’s why we got kicked out.” He turned to look out the window.

I kicked his shin. “Elaborate.”

He turned his gaze back to me, licking his lower lip. My stomach quivered at the glass-cut rage on his face. He looked fearsome, like a vengeful god on the attack. I wasn’t afraid of him by any means, but I wouldn’t want to double cross Max either. It was poignant how much different he looked now versus his normal, easy smile and mischievous eyes. I wanted to comfort him but I also wanted to smack him. I figured I was better off staying in my seat, just in case.

“Baldric was ready to accept my offer,” he explained. “But he wanted something from me that I wasn’t willing to give.”

“And what was that?”

“You.” He spoke in almost a whisper, the rage and pain evident in his face.

The word hung in the air between us as the plane began rolling down the tarmac. I was suddenly very happy we were leaving, and couldn’t wait for this plane to take us as far away from that lecherous pig as possible. Who throws a woman into a business deal? It was sick.

“So he kicked you out because you wouldn’t let him sleep with me?” I asked.

Not that even Max’s permission would have gotten me naked in front of that perv. Did he not realize that I had a choice in the matter too? I’d never felt so much like livestock in my life.

Max turned to look out the window again. “No.” His voice was quiet, stronger though, but still laden with stress. “He kicked us out because I broke his nose.”

My gaze instantly slid down to Max’s hands, gripping the edge of the armrests. The knuckles on his right hand were pink and puffy.

“You’ve got a real penchant for breaking noses, eh?” I said, trying to lighten the mood a little. “Maybe you could try aiming for the jaw next time. A swift uppercut perhaps.”

Max’s mouth remained in a firm line and he still wouldn’t look at me.

An announcement from the pilot informed us to prepare for lift off. I looked out the window too, since apparently my conversation with Max was dead in the water.

Was he mad at me? I understood how much he’d wanted this deal, but it hardly seemed fair for him to be upset with me just because Baldric was a piece of garbage.

Maybe he was upset that I was there in the first place. Maybe none of this would have happened if I hadn’t gone out to meet him that day in the lobby with those drinks. If I’d just kept to myself and not put myself in Baldric’s path, he could have been the owner of a set of paradisiacal hotels by now.

The plane lifted into the air and my stomach flopped. I badly wanted to talk to Max, but I didn’t know what to say. I certainly wasn’t going to apologize. Even if he thought it was my fault that the deal had gone awry, it wasn’t. I refused to feel guilty for existing. I wanted him to tell me he wasn’t upset with me, but couldn’t gather the nerve to ask. I was too afraid of what he’d say. I couldn’t stand hearing from his lips how he blamed me for losing him this deal, especially not with how emotionally charged the air in the cabin was.

I decided to wait. It was due to be a long, quiet flight. A stressful flight. I hoped that Max would say something to me before we landed at JFK.

Somehow I doubted he would.

Chapter 26

Max

Even after several hours of sitting, my blood still felt thick and hot in my veins. My fists ached, too—not because of the damage they’d already done, but because of the damage they still longed to inflict.

I knew I was being a dick, but I needed to cool off before I tried to speak to Emma. She deserved better than me giving her the silent treatment, especially when she’d done nothing wrong, but she also deserved better than to have me go off on a rage fit because I didn’t take the time to sort out this anger.

I’d had a lot of anger problems as a kid. My dad always joked that I’d inherited my mother’s fiery temper, which was something I was so adamant to overcome that I spent the better part of my teenage years struggling to balance my hormones and frustrations until I reached a state where I could be cool and collected even in high stress situations. Now my calm demeanor was one of my best attributes when it came to business, and it was something I prided myself on.

This was the second time in the past year that I’d let my anger get the better of me. It was also the second time that I felt no remorse for doing so. The commonality between these occurrences was Emma, and where she was concerned I didn’t care if I came off as a hothead. The thought of anybody touching her made me spitting mad. Furious.

This was a scary thought, considering we were never supposed to be that serious. I knew what I was getting into when I suggested we take our relationship to another level, but I’d had girlfriends before without wanting to rip out the throat of every man who so much as looked at her the wrong way.

I knew she was upset with me, but decided I would approach the topic once we were back in New York. I’d take her home with me, apologize for being an asshole, and then make love to her until she forgot all about it. This thought and this thought alone helped calm me down on the long flight. By the time we landed, I was ready to put my plan into action.

Too bad I made the mistake of turning my phone on once we landed.

I swore under my breath at the sheer volume of missed calls and voicemails I had from my mother. It didn’t matter that it was five in the morning, Paulina made it clear that she needed to speak with me the moment I was back stateside.

I called her as we disembarked, holding the phone away from my ear in anticipation of her shrill tone.

“Maximilian Augustus Westfield! What the fucking hell do you think you’re doing?” she answered. Not giving me a chance to answer, Paulina continued. “Come over to my apartment immediately.”

“I just got home,” I replied. “I’m not coming over right now.”

“So help me God, Maximilian, if you don’t come over right now I’m going to have a heart attack. I’ll carve into the floor with my last dying breath that you were the one who killed me, then spend the rest of my miserable existence haunting the ever loving shit out of you. Do you understand?”

I gritted my teeth. “Fine. I’ll see you soon.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue with my mother, and she wasn’t in the mood to be argued with. Besides, it might be nice to have a little screaming match with her. It would certainly help unload some of the anger still rushing through my veins.

I instructed the driver to take us to Emma’s first. She stared out the window, not even trying to initiate a conversation.

“Emma,” I said softly.

She refused to look at me. “Just take me home, Max.”

What was I expecting after not talking to her for the entire plane ride and being a jerk when I did speak? I wanted to sort things out with Emma before I even tried to fix anything else, but I knew that wouldn’t work. There wasn’t enough time in this car ride to fix what I’d damaged on the plane, and I owed it to my mother to go over there like I promised. Her threat had only been a threat, but sometimes I did worry about the stress she put on her heart with all the silly ways she got overexcited.

We stopped in front of Emma’s apartment building and I leaned across the backseat toward her. She promptly got out and slammed the door in my face.

 

My mother was approximately three gins deep by the time I made it to her door.

I could tell because her eyes weren’t yet glazed over, but they couldn’t focus on one spot too well either. Another tumbler, presumably her fourth, was gripped tightly in her free hand.

“I’m surprised you actually came.”

I walked past her into the apartment, slipping out of my suit jacket and hanging it over the back of one of the stools at her breakfast bar. I didn’t know how long I was going to be here, but I expected it was better to get comfortable.

“Even a demon wouldn’t dare ignore your summons, Mother.”

She closed the door with a slam and sneered at me. “Always such a smart ass. Just like your father. Of course, he wielded his wit like a weapon in the board room, whereas your main objective in life appears to be vexing me.”

I bristled at that. Paulina seemed incapable of measuring my devotion to the company, and preferred to use her presumption as law. If it didn’t appear to her that I was playing my part, she automatically assumed it must be true. I didn’t know if she’d always been this way, or if it had simply evolved out of not trusting my father enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Paulina stalked over to the living room and practically fell onto the sofa. It wheezed with the sudden weight. I joined her, sitting on the opposite divan and settling in for what was sure to be an unpleasant chat.

“My main objective in life is to run Goodman-Westfield to the best of my abilities,” I told her. “Since you have few shares and even less participation in the business, I suggest you remember that before you start making assumptions.”

She guffawed, tipping more of the clear liquid down her throat. “If yesterday’s incident was you running the company to the best of your ability, I don’t want to see you on an off day.”

I tensed, even though I’d been expecting this. “That was a unique situation.”

“Unique in what way?” She flung her hands into the air in exasperation. “You assaulted an influential player in an industry we’re trying to get into.”

“He deserved it.”

“Excuse me?” Paulina inched forward, leaning toward me so that I could almost smell the spirits on her breath. “What excuse could you possibly have for punching Baldric Hammond? Every time I answer my phone it’s someone asking me about it, so I’d love to have something to tell them.”

We both knew she wouldn’t be telling anyone anything. I doubted the incident would attract much attention outside of the business world, especially since I found it unlikely that Baldric would want others to know about it. We had lawyers and publicists to deal with these kinds of things. It was nice to know that it would all being taken care of while I continued to work on things that mattered. Maybe I should hit people more often. It felt good.

“He insulted me.”

Paulina raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “He insulted you.”

“Yes.”

She laughed bitterly. “What are you? A child? A man insults you and your first reaction is to attack him and thus tarnish our company’s reputation?”

Technically I had only tarnished my own reputation, and I doubted it would stick for long. The wealthy had done far worse. Punching one idiot who undoubtedly deserved it was hardly going to end with me being ostracized for life. I was sure I’d fulfilled a lot of other people’s fantasies by taking a shot at the guy, and we might even form positive relationships with Baldric’s rivals in the aftermath.

That being said, it was unfortunate that obtaining those hotels was out of the question. Paulina was right to be upset about that missed opportunity.

“He was being a creep. He wanted me to give him Emma for the night,” I explained. “I only did what any man would do in my situation.”

“You’re not any man!” Paulina wailed suddenly.

I flinched.

“You are the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation! You command a work force of thousands, and all of those people look to you for guidance and support.” She took a breath, so on a roll that she didn’t even notice the liquid slashing out of her glass with every exultation. “You need to be better than any man. I just don’t understand, Maximilian. You’ve never been reckless like this before. What has changed?”

I leaned back into the cushions, contemplating how much I was willing to reveal to defuse my mother, and how much of what I had to reveal would only ramp her up more.

I had completely fallen for Emma. I couldn’t deny it anymore after the sickness that engulfed me following Baldric’s request. I felt things for Emma that I’d never felt for anyone. I just wasn’t sure if I was willing to admit this to anyone yet.

Paulina waited for my response expectantly, fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm on the side of the glass. She wasn’t a patient lady, and as time continued to drag on, she started beating it out faster.

“Baldric wasn’t worth my time or energy,” I said finally. “Hitting him felt good. I won’t apologize for that.”

“Is that what you’re going to say to the investors?” she asked snidely.

I exhaled through my teeth. “That’s what I’m telling you. As my mother.”

This seemed to catch her off guard. Though it was never in question that she was my mother, it wasn’t often that it felt like that was the role we shared. Most of the time I was just happy to keep her off my back and well hydrated.

“I’m disappointed in you.”

The words cut deeper than I thought they would. I’d heard enough. Rising to my feet, I stood over my mother and stared down at her with a sad smile.

“Some things are more important than business,” I said.

Paulina looked like she was about to faint. Her pale cheeks turned ashen, eyes widening in their sockets.

I ignored her expression of horror and strolled to the door, opening it halfway and turning to toss a final phrase at her.

“If you don’t like it, you can get in line.”

Leaving my mother’s apartment had never felt so satisfying.

Chapter 27

Emma

I hadn’t lived on my own in a long time. I had moved straight from my parent’s house to a little cube with a sink and a toilet in the Bronx almost right out of high school. It was a hellish little flat but it was better than being locked away behind layers of intolerance and religious greed with my parents in Illinois. Hell, a cardboard box would have been preferable to that.

Growing up, they had controlled every single thing I did. They picked out my subjects, which sports I played, and who my friends were. They didn’t allow me to date, nor did they allow me to do anything else they thought might be fun or dangerous in any way. Teachers loved them because they rarely saw parents so involved in their child’s education, but those teachers also never saw how mean my Mom and Dad could be behind closed doors.

I knew why they did it. Losing Teddy had been a major blow to them, a wound they held closed by sheer force of will. The best way to honor their dead son, it seemed, was to protect their living daughter. Too bad their protection went too far, often resulting in me being punished for something as innocent as going to the mall after school instead of coming straight home and studying.

It wasn’t all because of Teddy’s death, of course. I think they were always a little unhinged, but losing their firstborn was a blow from which they never fully recovered. Many parents end up splitting up after a tragedy like that, but not mine. They banded together and became stronger. They encouraged each other’s madness. They became a wall that I needed to scale if I was ever going to have a normal life.

I remembered the feeling of freedom I had experienced the first day I moved into my new apartment. At that point, my parents were still convinced I was going to fail and come crawling back—refusing to talk to me until I admitted they were right. That meant that my first week of living in New York, I didn’t talk to anybody other than the guy who delivered my pizza.

I had no friends, no family, and no clue. Coming of age movies had taught me that things would start to fall into place by themselves and, once they did, I’d be well on my way to happily ever after. Maybe that was why I threw myself so wholeheartedly into the first relationship that landed on my door step.

I met Lance when I was trying to navigate the subway. I couldn’t figure out which direction I was supposed to be going, and the loopy lines all over the map didn’t help. He stopped to assist me, and from that point on I was smitten. My first real boyfriend, first apartment, and first step on the long but exciting road of adulthood.

I was alone again in a new place. Still no parents, but I had friends and technically even a boyfriend. So why did this feel like starting over? Something had shifted in my life and I still wasn’t sure what. There was change on the horizon, and the only thing I knew was that it involved Max. I just didn’t know how.

Rather than sitting by myself and stewing for the whole evening, I opted to give Willow a call and suggest we go out for drinks. It was one of the few times my despondency didn’t push me toward Pinterest and pretzels. I’d been dying to try the pub down the street, and I hadn’t seen my best friend in almost a week. Granted, I’d been in the Dominican Republic for most of that time, but I still missed her like crazy.

We agreed to meet in half an hour, which felt like a long time now that I was painfully aware of how lonely I was living by myself. Maybe I was just one of those people who preferred not to be alone. It would make sense why I’d jumped on Lance’s offer to move in together without the hesitation such an offer deserved.

After waiting a bit so I didn’t arrive too early, I tied up my hair and headed down the street to the pub. It was a cute little basement pub called The Bandstand, and from the sound of it they’d already started their live music for the evening. I walked through the frosted glass panelled front door, inhaling the warm, aged smelling atmosphere.

The bar was split in half, with half of it devoted to a recessed eating and drinking space, and the other focused more on the live music. Right now, there was a bearded man with an acoustic guitar crooning into the microphone about lost love. I decided to sit on the other side of the bar.

Willow joined me soon after, pulling me up into a fierce hug before she sat down.

“I missed you,” she said.

“Missed you too.”

“So?” she asked. “Where’s my pukka?”

I laughed, remembering how I’d promised to get her a pukka shell necklace while I was away. I hadn’t realized at the time that I would end up leaving Punta Cana in a hurry like we did.

“Circumstances disallowed it,” I answered evasively. I wasn’t ready to talk about what happened with Max yet. I was still processing.

“Very mysterious indeed.” Willow flashed a grin. “Were these circumstances by chance you having too much sex to leave the room? If so, I wish I could be mad.”

I laughed. “If only.”

The server came around and took our drink orders, and once he was gone I made sure to change the topic as quickly and seamlessly as possible. We started talking about how things had been going at school for Willow.

After that she told me about her dad’s upcoming knee surgery, and how while I was away she had gone on a date with some weirdo who ate all his meals with chopsticks. It was nice to connect with my best friend again. It was nice to laugh. It was nice to not think about relationships or work, especially since those were one and the same where I was concerned.

Halfway through our second drink, however, Willow picked up the scent again and charged forward.

“Tell me about these circumstances in Punta Cana,” she said, giving me a steely stare that warned I wouldn’t be able to weasel my way out of this one.

I wanted to tell her anyway. She might not totally understand, being an outsider and all, but she was the only one who understood me.

I spilled the whole story, starting with Baldric’s lobby once-over, to my snappy conversation with Max on the way home. When I was finished, I chugged down half my beer, like telling the story had been akin to running a marathon.

“That’s insane!” she declared. “What has he said since you got home?”

I shrugged, “Nothing actually. I haven’t called him, he hasn’t called me.”

“That seems a bit strange. I mean, I completely believe you and all, but isn’t Max normally a little more...”

She trailed off, and I took the opportunity to fill in the blanks for her.

“Thoughtful? Kind? Pleasant?”

Willow laughed. “Yup. All of those things.”

“He is, usually,” I said with a sigh, slumping forward in my seat. The beer was doing its trick. My stomach felt bubbly and light, even if my heart still weighed heavily in my chest.

“I’m still trying to figure him out, to be honest,” I admitted. “I know how he likes his coffee, where he buys his pants, even which side of the bed he prefers to sleep on. I’ve met his mother, seen childhood photos of him, and now we’ve been on vacation together. Sometimes it seems like we’re close, like a couple should be.”

Willow’s blue eyes filled with worry. “But other times?”

I winced, as if the answer caused me physical pain. “Other times it’s like I’m just his personal assistant, who he also gets to bang. It feels one-sided, you know? I feel like I’m playing the part of girlfriend and assistant, which makes it confusing when I need to interpret his feedback as either boss or boyfriend.”

Willow nodded understandingly, reaching across to lay a hand over the top mine. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” I said, delicately extracting my hand from under hers. “Cause the thing is...”

Could I say it? Could I finally say it out loud and just be out with it?

“I’m... I’m in love with him, Willow.”

She didn’t look even mildly surprised. “Figured as much.”

“Can you at least pretend to think this is kind of a big deal?” I asked, bitterly.

Willow’s eyebrows shot up and she practically leapt over the table to console me, bracelets jangling. “No! No! That’s not what I mean. Of course, this is a big deal.”

I had to push her away, guiding her back to her side of the table.

“This is a huge deal,” she continued. “I genuinely empathize with you. It’s just that I’ve known about your feelings for Max for a while—since before you and Max were even a thing, and then as soon as you guys slept together it was like a light turned on behind your eyes. I’ve basically been waiting for you to realize it yourself for a long time.”

I sent her a wry smile. “Any insight on how he feels about me?”

Willow’s angelic face took on a somber expression, one that did little to inspire hope in me.

“I don’t know him like I know you,” she said. “Besides, I haven’t spent much time with him. Only he will be able to tell you that. Unless he talks to that dumbass Jeremy as much as you talk to me.”

I laughed, picturing Jeremy and Max having girl talk over espresso in Max’s office. In my mind, Jeremy was an expert listener, patiently nodding as Max spilled bucket loads of feelings onto him.

Not a chance.

“Jury’s out, I suppose,” I said. “But it seems a bit pointless. I obviously would love for him to love me, but we’re too different. There’s too much standing in the way. Max has got a very particular idea in his head of how his life is going to go, and a wife and kids isn’t part of it. He’ll break up with me eventually. I can feel it. So, what am I even doing with him?”

Willow leaned back and crossed her arms, clearly thinking. I took another sip of my beer while I waited, feeling ten times lighter. It wasn’t just the effects of the alcohol, either. I’d been holding this in for a long time. Max was the only person I saw regularly, and it wasn’t like I could talk this over with him.

Hey, babe, are you going to dump me in two years citing your inability to commit? Cheers.

No thank you.

Willow released a sigh, and took a drink of beer before fixing me with an apologetic smile. “I think you should make a clean break.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “You’ve got enough experience now that you could probably find another, similar job. Your feelings for him are wonderful, but like you said—even if he reciprocated to the fullest, you’re going different places in life. It might just be easier to end it now. That being said, this has got to be your decision.”

“I know,” I said, nodding. “I appreciate the input though. I’ve been going mad from the beginning with this set of anxieties. I feel like there’s an axe hanging over our heads.”

“Let’s not think about that anymore,” she suggested, raising her glass. “At least not for tonight. Tonight, we’ll have a couple more drinks, giggle like school girls, and do anything but think about being adults.”

I laughed. “Cheers to that.”

My one last, parting adult thought as we descended into a night of revelry, was this—leaving Max would be torture. No doubt about it. But wouldn’t it be worse in the long run if I stayed around trying to pull water from a stone?

Chapter 28

Max

It was my first day back at the office, and it was just as I’d dreaded it would be. Phone calls and emails had been trickling all day. Most were disgruntled investors, and it took some time to calm each of them down. Nevertheless, calm them I did. In fact, I made an art out of it.

Surprisingly, there were a few calls from other high ranking members of the business community who’d heard about what happened and wanted to congratulate me. The first time I answered one of those calls was a shock. Apparently, Baldric Hammond had a reputation among certain groups for being a complete sleaze, and a few women in particular wanted to pay their respects to the man who’d jumped at the opportunity to put Hammond down. Not that I was taking credit as some sort of vigilante for women’s rights, or anything.

It did make me even more glad that I’d hit him, though I’d never once regretted it. If my mother was upset, she could blame her own goddamn flair for the dramatic. And her hot head.

As for the rest? I was dealing with it one step at a time.

The news of the prospective sale hadn’t reached investors until after the scandalous events of Punta Cana, so the stock didn’t take much of a beating. I felt like my desk had been turned into a complaint hotline more than anything else, except everybody wanted to comment or complain about me personally and not Goodman-Westfield as a company.

All the same, I deserved it. I took full responsibility for my actions, and would spend the entire week mopping up this mess if I had to. It wasn’t my fault that the guy was a complete dick, which made it all seem a little unfair, but at least I got to remember the sweet look of horror on Baldric’s face the moment his nose cracked.

I’d be remembering that with glee for a long time.

I was too busy throughout the day to talk to Emma, and I didn’t know what to say to her in the first place. An apology was in order—that much I knew. But then what? I had all these feelings swirling under my skin, so close to the surface, yet too far away for me to identify.

The intensity of emotions I’d felt on that trip were beyond anything I’d grown to expect in these kinds of relationships. Or any relationship. The fury, the fear, the worry. And something a helluva lot warmer than any of those.

I almost wished I could talk it through with someone, to map it all out visually like I normally did with big ideas and questions in business, but the person I normally did that with was sitting outside my office quietly hating my guts. She was the only one I wanted to talk to about this, or about anything, really. She’d become my rock and now that I’d screwed that up, I didn’t know what to do.

Around midday there was a lull as people went off to lunch meetings and the like. Normally, this would be around the time Emma ordered us lunch, but I was still surprised when she buzzed to tell me she was on her way in.

I sat up straighter in my chair and adjusted my tie just as she walked through the door. She was carrying a folded piece of paper, and at first I thought it was a new take out menu to add to our collection. The paper wasn’t glossy though, like one would expect, and as she handed it to me she looked away.

“What’s this?” I took it and unfolded it. After reading the first two lines, I dropped it onto my desk. “You’re quitting?”

Emma pulled her lower lip between her teeth and her brow creased.

“Yeah,” she said. “Technically resigning. I’ve already started drafting a job posting for the website and I’ve contacted a couple recruiters.”

“Emma...” I rose, walking around to her side of the desk.

She backed away, which stopped me in my place. Each step she took backward felt like something being ripped from my chest.

“I’ve made my decision, Max.” She lifted her gaze to mine and held it unwaveringly.

“Let’s talk—”

The door banged open and Jeremy stormed in. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

It didn’t end, did it?

“Jeremy, if you woul—”

“Yes, I would like to come in and sit down and talk about this, thank you very much, Max.”

I stared past him at Emma, who was quietly slipping out of the room. She shut the door behind her, leaving me alone with a headache on legs.

“You’re getting upset over nothing,” I said. “I’ve been handling it all morning. It’s not as big a deal as it seems.”

“Not as big a deal as it seems?” Jeremy hissed. “The only reason I didn’t come down here earlier to tan your hide is because I’ve been on the phone with Hammond’s lawyers all day, convincing them not to press charges.”

“It’s not my fault he can’t take a punch.”

I knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as I said it, but seriously—what kind of coward presses charges for a punch he rightfully deserved?

“What has gotten into you?” Jeremy asked. He plunked down into the chair across from my desk as I sighed and took my own.

“You sound like my mother.”

“She and I do get along rather well. I wouldn’t be so surprised.”

He picked a pencil out of my holder and snapped it in half, staring me dead in the eye. He then dropped the pieces to the floor. Now he was just being belligerent.

“Tell me what the hell could possibly have influenced you to punch and—as his lawyers are saying—nearly kill a man who only hours before you’d been close to sealing a highly profitable business deal with.”

“Nearly killed?” I asked incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Even Lance took a punch better than this guy.”

“Yes, nearly killed. Apparently if you hit a man the right way you can jam parts of his nose up into his brain. They sent over a diagram. It was disgusting.” Jeremy rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you telling me that punching people is a habit you’ve gotten into lately? Are you trying to start some sort of rich boy fight club?” He dropped his lawyerly act for a minute and grinned. “If so, why haven’t I been invited?”

“Because there is no rich boy fight club,” I groaned. “And even if there were, I doubt they’d invite you.”

“They’d be missing out then.” Jeremy began twirling a paperclip in circles against my desk, and his eyes grew more serious. “Come on now, Max, why don’t you tell me what’s really got your panties in a twist here? Why can’t you stop punching people?”

“You make it sound like I’ve got a chronic problem. I’ve only hit two people.”

“While that may be true, the condensed nature of the assaults indicates that there’s a deeper problem. So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on.”

His gaze was nothing short of piercing. Jeremy rarely found himself in a court room, but I didn’t have to see him at work to know his interrogation skills were second to none. I’d admitted more to him over the course of my life than anyone else. As well as being an excellent lawyer, he also knew how I ticked.

“You seem like you already have an idea,” I muttered. “Why don’t you just tell me your theory and I can correct you if you’re wrong.”

Jeremy stopped the spinning paperclip and leaned forward in his seat. “If I tell you what I’m thinking, do you promise not to knock my lights out?”

“I promise.”

He sat back. “You, my friend, are in love.”

That wasn’t the answer I’d been expecting. I thought he might say something about my mother, or how overworked I’d been recently. I didn’t think he would suggest that it was love at play, because I hadn’t quite figured that out for myself yet.

When I stayed silent another moment, Jeremy’s lips twitched into a triumphant smirk. “I knew it! So, who was the first guy, huh? Baldric wanted something rude, I know that much, but what got you throwing jabs in the first place?”

His enthusiasm was mildly irritating. At this point I would have preferred him chastising me like everybody had. I wasn’t sure I was ready to discuss something as personal and raw as love, especially since I hadn’t even settled into the realization myself. As far as I knew, I had feelings for Emma, but I’d never bothered to classify them further than that. Did I love her? Was it possible?

My heart warmed.

I did love her and it was possible.

It was a big problem on top of an already complicated situation, but that didn’t mean I could just ignore my feelings.

“The first one was her ex-boyfriend,” I said. “You could say he was also being rude.”

“Ha! Love it.” Jeremy bent over and retrieved the broken pieces of pencil from the floor, letting them tumble back onto my desk. “Of course, that doesn’t help the whole Baldric situation, but I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“How did you guess?” I asked.

If Jeremy had correctly guessed, did that mean Emma knew as well? My mother, maybe? Hell, did the whole office know and I was the last one to find out because I was useless?

“You’ve never put anything ahead of your business before,” Jeremy said simply. “And quite frankly, you’re not normally so rash. I work very hard to get a reaction out of you sometimes so I was a bit peeved to hear you’ve been reacting like a motherfucker all over the place.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore,” I said somberly. “Emma quit not a quarter of an hour ago.”

“She didn’t!”

I nodded. “She did. I’ve got her resignation letter right here.” I tapped at the paper, and Jeremy reached over the desk to snatch it away. His eyes tracked along the lines as he read, then he passed the paper back.

“It’s quite a cold resignation letter. Did you do something to upset her?”

“Yes,” I said without thinking. I didn’t really want to get into my relationship troubles with Jeremy, but since there was nobody else I could talk to and he was a willing and enthusiastic listener, I began to explain the events of the past twenty-four hours and what I’d done to earn Emma’s disdain.

Afterward, Jeremy shoved out his bottom lip and nodded slowly, indicating that he’d absorbed everything I tossed at him.

“Well, you obviously can’t let her quit,” Jeremy said. “She means a lot to you and if she’s quitting just because of that fight, I think she can easily be brought around.”

“I don’t know if she’s quitting just because of the fight.”

He cocked his head. “Oh no? Why not?”

“Because you barged in here just as I was about to find out.”

“Right, of course,” he replied, laughing. “You’ll have to forgive my insistence on doing my job to the best of my abilities. It makes me a real menace sometimes.”

Sure, that was what we’d call it.

“What are you going to do?” Jeremy asked. “I don’t think she’ll leave if you ask her not to. She’s crazy about you. Between you and me, I’ve even seen her on Pinterest looking at a bunch of wedding shit.”

I laughed and thought about how mortified Emma would be if she knew that Jeremy had seen her.

“That’s not for me specifically,” I told him. “She just really wants to get married and have the perfect wedding.”

“One of those, eh?” Jeremy lit up with a wry smile. “So, what are you going to do about that? Aren’t you in some sort of anti-marriage crusaders club?”

“Very funny,” I replied. “As for your actual question, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve never wanted to get married before, but I’ve also never cared for a woman like I care for Emma. She’s special to me.”

“Special enough to marry?”

I shrugged my shoulders, unsure of how to answer. At one point, I might’ve said that there was no woman in the world who could convince me that marriage was a good idea. When Emma came along many things had changed. She was something special, yet I still balked for whatever reason. I didn’t like marriage, and marriage didn’t like me.

I sighed. “I need to talk to her. Is there anything else you need from me to sort all this shit out?”

Jeremy’s face cracked into a blinding smile. “I didn’t need anything from you in the first place. I just wanted to see what your problem was.” He rose nimbly, buttoning his suit jacket as he headed to the door. “Good luck, my friend.”

I gave him a short salute and followed his progress to the door. Once he was gone, I poised my finger over the intercom button and buzzed.

Chapter 29

Emma

Jeremy flashed me a grin as he walked past, which I found more troubling than anything else. He’d been in such a mood when he originally stalked into Max’s office. What had gone on in there that had made him so smiley?

I didn’t have long to wonder, however, since the moment Jeremy was on his way to the elevator, Max buzzed me in again.

I didn’t buzz back to ask him what he needed. I knew he wanted me to come into his office to finish our conversation, and I’d been preparing for it while he and Jeremy talked. Handing in my notice was one of the hardest things I’d ever done and my heart ached. I had spent the past ten minutes trying not to cry at my desk, so I didn’t know how well this conversation was going to go. I didn’t know whether it would be better for him to beg me not to go or just accept my resignation with the cold attitude he displayed on the flight.

Rearranging my skirt, I rose and walked over to his office door. I took a final bracing breath before I entered.

Max was waiting inside, his intelligent crystal-blue eyes watching my every movement as I stepped into the room. He looked stressed, his hair a tousled mess and his suit jacket and tie hung on the coat hook by the door. I immediately wanted to comfort him, to wrap my arms around his thick torso and squeeze until he forgot everything that was plaguing him. Unfortunately, one of the things this time was me.

“Why don’t you sit down,” he suggested, gesturing to the chair Jeremy had only just vacated. I would’ve known Jeremy had been right there even if I hadn’t just seen him, there were paper clips and other detritus strewn all around the otherwise immaculate desk space.

I nodded and sat down, folding my hands in my lap and looking at Max expectantly.

“I’m at a bit of a loss for words, Emma,” Max began. “I guess I should start by saying I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back, looking casual and very handsome. “I was a complete asshole to you on the way home from Punta Cana and I would take it all back if I could. I figured I’d get a chance to explain myself to you, though. I didn’t realize it was so bad you’d end up quitting.”

“That’s not why I’m quitting,” I replied, shaking my head.

Genuine confusion twisted his features. “It’s not? Then why?”

As much as I appreciated his apology, I had to remember that I’d made a decision on this. I couldn’t change my mind just because he was saying a few things that I wanted to hear.

“I got this job because I was seeking independence,” I said. “Sleeping with the boss completely negates that fact. I want to go out on my own and succeed on my own merits. I need to go out on my own and succeed on my own merits.”

Max looked almost hurt. His eyes grew wide, his brow creasing in the middle. His hands twitched on the desk as if he was suppressing the urge to reach out for me. I was suppressing the urge to reach out for him too.

“Emma,” he said softly. “You will always succeed on your own merits here. You’re great at what you do. Brilliant at it, really. If you’re not happy with an aspect of your position, I’m more than willing to negotiate.”

If only it were just a problem with my job. This relationship was much too deeply embedded in my position though, so any problem with either was going to slip into the other.

“It’s like I said, Max, it’s an independence thing. I’ve loved working here and I hope I can count on you for a good reference, but I need to be somewhere else.”

Somewhere far away from you...

I wondered if there would come a day when it wouldn’t hurt to think of Max anymore. I reminded myself that I was doing this for my future happiness, and my future happiness depended on me leaving this job and Max. I needed a clean break.

“You want to go out on your own,” he said, slowly nodding. “That’s something I can understand, certainly. I’m happy to support you in this transition. My only question is if this means you’re quitting me too?”

My heart thudded painfully. This was what I’d been dreading, the very thing I’d hoped to avoid as long as possible, even though I knew it needed to be ripped away quickly and cleanly like a band aid.

“Yes.” My voice was so soft that I was worried he hadn’t heard it. He was staring at me blankly, completely still save for the rise and fall of his breathing.

“I can’t let you do that.”

A spark of irritation flared to life inside of me. “You can’t let me do that?”

He shook his head, gazing down at his folded hands. “I think you’re going through something right now, and I can understand you wanting to quit the job, but I can’t understand you wanting to end things when I know how you feel about me.”

I shot to my feet. Did he have to make everything sound so much like a business transaction? Not that it would have swayed me, but it wouldn’t have hurt for him to use this as an opportunity to tell me exactly what he felt about me. Instead, he said we couldn’t break up because of how I felt about him? That was exactly the kind of arrogant shit Max would pull.

“Gee, with an impassioned declaration like that, there’s no way I want to break up.”

Max stood and walked around the side of the desk. I watched his approach with my fists clenched at my sides, staying perfectly still. His eyes were warm… and filled with kindness. I didn’t resist when he pulled me against his chest, because it felt too good to have him hold me. He swayed me back and forth, lips pressed against the crown of my head. I loved it when he held me like this and tried to commit the feeling to memory, since this was the last time I could allow it to happen.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m a bit new to all of this. I don’t always know the right thing to say.”

“No shit,” I said, my voice muffled against his shirt.

His deep laugh rumbled through me. “You mean a lot to me, Emma. I don’t want to lose you. Tell me what I can do.”

It was amazing to hear him say those words. Sometimes he had his sweet moments where I felt like the most important girl in the world, but there were other times when I wondered if he cared about me any more than any of his other business contracts.

“There’s nothing you can do,” I sniffed, tears threatening. “I already had a relationship where I waited the whole time for our interests to line up, and I can’t do that again. I care about you and it’s hurting me to have to leave, but I can’t keep waiting for something that’s never going to happen.”

Max stiffened, no longer swaying me. He pushed my shoulders back until our eyes met. His eyes narrowed on mine, sky to earth.

“I want you, Emma.” His voice was thick with emotion and frustration. “I want you so bad that I would rather peel the skin from my bones than see you walk out that door. Isn’t that enough?”

I didn’t answer, too blindsided by the depth of the feeling in his words. That and I didn’t think I could even speak without immediately bursting into tears.

Max let out a frustrated growl, my only warning before he swept down and pressed his lips to mine. I curled up against him out of instinct, just like I always did. Chest to chest, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. There was a little nook in his body that I fit perfectly into, and settling back in after a couple days of barely talking was like coming home.

Max kissed me feverishly, pulling me tight to him with one hand on the back of my head and the other on my waist. My own hands clutched pathetically at the front of his shirt when they should have been pushing him away. I couldn’t help it. Kissing him was my personal addiction, something I was going to have to quit cold turkey if I wanted to fix this. Right now, I didn’t want to fix it. I would stay under his thrall forever if it meant I got to feel like this. Cared for. Cherished.

His mouth trailed eagerly down my jaw, gliding along my throat and making me gasp. He tightened his fist in my hair and pulled my head back, exposing more of my neck for him to hungrily devour. I was weak with lust. My knees trembled, struggling to hold me upright. If I didn’t have Max’s arm supporting me, I probably would have slumped into a pile of nothing on the floor.

Max’s teeth scraped along the delicate flesh where my shoulder met my neck. This time, my gasp was more of a moan. His hardness ground against my stomach and my mouth watered as I thought about how sexy it would be to have one last office tryst. We could do it over his desk. We could do it under his desk. Fuck, I didn’t care where we did it, as long as I got his cock in me. I wouldn’t feel right until I was full of him, surrounded by him.

Him. Him. Him.

“Stop!” I jammed my hands against his chest and sent him teetering backward.

He was panting. We both were.

“That’s exactly the problem, Max,” I said to the unspoken question in his eyes. “I get so wrapped up in you that I forget about me, about what I want. But I know what I don’t want, and that is letting you lead me around behind you for the rest of my life because I’m too weak to go out there and seek what I want on my own. I’m sorry.”

The hurt in his eyes nearly killed me. I could tell he was searching for the right words, but if he hadn’t found them by now, I doubted he was ever going to. And that was just something I’d have to live with.

I loved Max Westfield. Max Westfield didn’t love me. He felt all sorts of things for me, sure, but love wasn’t one of them.

A muffled ringing cut through the tense silence of the office. It was my desk phone.

Max anticipated my action. “Leave it,” he said. “Please… leave it.”

The word ‘please’ coming from his lips sounded almost as sinful as when he whispered naughty things to me while we made love. But no amount of ‘pleases’ in the world could have stopped me from taking the opportunity to get out of that explosive situation.

I gave a tiny shake of my head, rearranged my clothes and hair, and strode out of Max’s office.

Chapter 30

Max

It was sometimes nice to work late, because the office became peacefully quiet after everyone left. There were always a few stragglers, burning the midnight oil to make whatever deadline they had on their plates, but for the most part I had the place to myself. Emma had gone home at the proper time, and every time I walked past her empty desk I was reminded of what it was going to be like in a couple of weeks when she was gone for good.

Well, not quite like this. Her desk was empty, and in two weeks it likely wouldn’t be. There would be another person waiting outside my office in case I needed anything, but that person might as well be a mannequin compared to Emma.

I came back from the kitchen with a steaming mug of black coffee and passed Emma’s desk again, frowning the whole while. I was feeling sick and unhappy about things, but I didn’t know what to do about it.

Why couldn’t I just tell her that I loved her? I’d tried to, but the words came out all wrong. I’d never told anyone I loved them before. I was hardly accustomed to the idea that I was in love with someone in the first place, and telling her how I felt seemed like a step further than I was prepared to go.

Maybe we just needed some time. Maybe she just needed some time. Maybe this would all work out in the end.

I sat back down at my desk and continued working. Or trying to, at least. Our kiss from earlier kept flashing through my brain, scattering my thoughts each time it popped up. It was a great kiss, but a goodbye kiss. I didn’t want a goodbye kiss.

We hadn’t talked for the rest of the day, and she didn’t even come to say goodbye when she left. Was this what the next two weeks were going to be like? I wish that I could regret getting myself in this situation in the first place, but I couldn’t. I was hurting now, but every iota of torture was worth it for the time we had spent together.

And I wasn’t finished fighting for her yet. I didn’t know what my next move was, but I wasn’t finished. Emma wanted to move on, and I wanted to respect that decision because I respected her. The only problem was that I didn’t want her to move on, so at some point our interests were going to collide.

I heard the sound of my phone vibrating on my desk with a text. It was my mother, asking me why I wasn’t at home. She apparently hadn’t learned her lesson and still favored popping by unannounced.

I told her I was working late tonight, but that I’d come by and see her afterward if she wanted. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do anyway.

Twenty minutes later, I was surprised to hear the sound of high heels clacking down the hallway, growing nearer and approaching my door. For a moment, I thought perhaps it was Emma, come back to change her mind. Wishful thinking, it turned out.

“You mustn’t work yourself so hard, you know,” Mother said, bustling through the door. “You’ll get wrinkles on that handsome face of yours. You’ve got my skin, you know. You do wear sunscreen, don’t you?”

She was carrying two plastic grocery bags, which she dropped on my desk atop a stack of paperwork. The bags were hot and smelled of peanuts and garlic. My mouth watered.

I ignored her question about the sunscreen and leaned back in my chair, gesturing toward the bags. “What’s this?”

“What do you think it is? It’s obviously food, dear.”

“Yes, but why are you bringing me dinner? That’s not like you.”

Paulina’s mouth flattened. “Can’t a mother bring her son something to eat?”

“By all means,” I said, spreading my hands. “I suppose as long as it’s not home cooked I don’t have to worry that you’ve been taken by body snatchers just yet.”

She scowled, but began unpacking the bags, placing a variety of take-out containers on my desk.

I couldn’t remember the last time my mother had done something quite so... motherly. It was out of character, but in the end, quite appreciated. My stomach rumbled at the sight of the steaming entrees she arranged in front of me.

“I couldn’t remember what you liked, so I got a little bit of everything,” she said. “You do like Thai, right?”

I nodded, already digging into a noodle box of phat khing. “I like everything.”

It struck me funny that Emma wouldn’t have had to ask. She knew, almost instinctively, all of my likes and dislikes. Nobody liked everything and I was no different, but Paulina would forget by the next time, and I didn’t want to upset her by turning my nose up at her thoughtful present. It was easier just to pretend.

Paulina settled into the chair across from me, tucking a paper napkin into the collar of her shirt and arranging more onto her lap. When she caught me looking, she winked.

“It’s a thousand-dollar dress, darling.”

I chuckled, happily chewing a mouthful of spicy noodles and tofu. “So, what brings you all the way over here?” I asked. “If you’ve come to give me more shit for the Baldric thing, you should know that my capacity for taking shit today is grossly overwhelmed.”

“That sarcasm,” she mused. “Your father was all about the sarcasm. Sometimes I swear I can hear him when you speak. It is equal parts wonderful and disturbing.”

Her eyes took on a far-off look and I wasn’t sure whether she expected a response or not. I was hesitant when anyone drew any comparison between my father and I, especially my mother. But this time it seemed she was being nice.

“To answer your question,” she said, coming back to herself. “I just wanted to come and see how you’ve been doing. We haven’t really talked much recently, except to exchange sharp words. I thought maybe we could put our weapons away and enjoy a nice meal together.”

“I’d like that,” I said, trying to hide my surprise by dipping my face to slurp up more noodles.

“Tell me then, how are things in your life, Maximilian? How’s Emma?”

The noodles stuck in my throat, and I had to swallow hard to dislodge them and send them on their way. The last thing I wanted to deal with was my mother’s gloating, but I couldn’t avoid the question without her calling me out for it.

Ah well. May as well bite the bullet.

“Emma quit and dumped me,” I said, stabbing my chopsticks into the container.

“What?”

The horror in Paulina’s voice caused me to look up at her. Yup, sure enough, there was horror on her face as well. I did not understand this woman. I would’ve thought she’d be celebrating by now, calling up all the women on her Bachelorette shortlist and telling them they had another chance to win a rose.

“She wants more independence,” I replied. “And we have different ideas about what our future should look like.”

“Let me guess, you want to be a bachelor forever.” She put down her container on the edge of the desk and grabbed one of the bottled waters, cracking open the lid and shaking her head.

“It’s not that I want freedom to play the field at will or anything cheap like that,” I defended. “I don’t believe in marriage. Look at you and Dad, for Christ’s sake. You two started out happy and look what happened.”

Paulina closed her eyes in irritation, like she used to when I was a child and got too annoying. “Maximilian Augustus Westfield, you are a fucking fool.”

My jaw dropped open. I’d never heard her sound so serious before, and she rarely swore, choosing more dramatic forms of speech. I tried to recall the last time I heard her say a swear word any more brash than shit. This was strange, especially considering she was sober.

“I think you’re over—” I tried to say, but she held up a hand to silence me.

“Listen to me, darling. I’ve had my hang ups about your relationship with Emma, and I’ll be the first to admit that perhaps I judged her a bit too soon. That being said, I can see how happy you are with her. You’ve suffered from a few of your father’s faults in your lifetime, but one in particular has been your coldness.”

“That’s not true,” I said. “I’m not cold. I’m always very friendly.”

“Ah, but that doesn’t mean you’re warm,” she said. “You’re friendly and polite, sure, but you don’t make connections with people, Maximilian. You’ve got one true friend, and I suspect the only reason you two are friends in the first place is because you grew up around each other and Jeremy annoyed you until you finally gave into him. You’ve never opened yourself up to another person so easily as you did with Emma. Perhaps part of the reason I’ve been so adamantly trying to set you up is because I feared you wouldn’t come across a partner naturally. I won’t always be around, dear, and the thought of you living out the rest of your days as a lonely old man was positively taxing. I was hoping that you’d form the same connection with one of my girls that you eventually went on to form with Emma. And, yes, perhaps I was a teensy bit offended when none of the girls I’d chosen were good enough, but your new assistant was.”

I stared, trying to think of a response. She was being so open with me that I didn’t quite know how to handle it. I felt like I could ask my mother anything right now and she’d reply honestly and without hesitation. Normally digging deeper than the surface led to a few hasty redirects and a reminder that it wasn’t polite to pry.

“I didn’t expect that out of you,” I replied. “I appreciate it, though.”

“Good.” She picked up her food and started eating again. “Now are you going to do something about it, or are you going to continue moping until I start parading women through your office again?”

I laughed. “Much as I’d love to do something about it, Emma has said her piece. I can’t expect her to change her mind any more than she expects me to change mine.”

“Just because she doesn’t expect you to change your mind doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.” She pointed her chopsticks at me demonstratively. “You’ve forged this ridiculous anti-marriage attitude based on the farce that was the only marriage you’ve really ever been exposed to. I’ve never bothered to sit down with you and help you understand the way things went with your father and I. I should have, and that is my fault.”

“He’s dead, Mother. You don’t need to make excuses for him anymore.”

“I’m not making excuses! Sit back and eat your food.”

I did as she said, enjoying this more lucid side of my mother very much.

“I know that you think poorly of your father based on his many affairs. I don’t blame you. My opinion of him, which had always been nearly immaculate, took a nose dive the first time I found a pair of panties that weren’t mine under our bed. Our bed, Maximilian. Christ, it tore me to pieces. I agree with you that to vow to be with someone for the rest of your life and then to go off and do something like that is a grievous crime.

But I also know that you’re not the same man your father was. You share many of the same characteristics, and sometimes yes, it is like looking back on an old photo of him, but there are far more differences than there are similarities. For one thing, your father treated me like a queen. He doted on me hand and foot, buying me little presents and always remembering my birthday and our anniversary. He told me he loved me every day, even long after I had stopped listening.”

“And you’re saying I’m not like that?” I scowled. “I’m not sure how this is supposed to be inspiring. So far you’ve told me that I give off the impression of a cold fish.”

She sighed, “Listen, darling, listen. Yes, your father was sweet on me like honey. He was also just as sweet to Ruth, Merida, Brenda, Tiffany...” She trailed off, her lips quirked into an amused smile. “Am I making my point?”

I nodded, and she continued.

“And you know, I wouldn’t have had things any other way, as far as your father was concerned. Our marriage was fraught with difficulty, but the one thing I’ll never regret, so long as I live, is having you. Loving someone as wholly as I love you is worth all the complications in the world. It’s worth everything. My only hope is that you get to experience that kind of love in your life, but without all the negativity that came with mine.”

This was not how I expected this impromptu dinner with my mother to go.

“Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“No thanks necessary,” she replied, waving me off with her chopsticks. “It has been my pleasure raising you, even if you are at times an abhorrently rude boy.”

She smiled mischievously and continued digging into her food.

For the first time in such a long while, I felt like my mother and I were on the same team. It felt good.

Mother left just after we’d finished eating. I cleaned up, carrying the garbage over to the kitchen and putting the food we hadn’t touched in the fridge as a free lunch for someone tomorrow.

Afterward, I finished up my work for the day and left my office. The sun had long since slid below the horizon, and it looked more like the middle of the night than late evening.

I grabbed some papers I needed Emma to scan on the way out, sliding them atop her desk. I noticed her computer was still on, which was unusual for her. She was normally all about saving energy where she could. She must’ve been stressed out from and forgotten.

Out of curiosity, and because I knew I’d probably never get the opportunity again, I leaned over the back of her chair and clicked to pull the computer out of sleep mode. Then, feeling like a complete creep, I pulled up Pinterest. She was still logged in. Her wedding planning board, her raison d’etre, was mine to browse at my leisure.

Chapter 31

Emma

“This one sounds interesting,” Willow called from the other side of the couch. “Creative individuals wanted for temporary, cash work.” She frowned, mumbling the next part. “Must be comfortable with nudity.”

“Someone else’s or my own?” I replied.

She shrugged, “Doesn’t say. Shall I send you the link?”

I laughed and tossed a pillow at her. Looking at jobs was stressful, but at least with Willow around it wasn’t as bad as it could be. I should have started scouring for any and every job I was qualified for the moment I decided to hand in my notice at Goodman-Westfield, but I’d been dragging my feet. Now I was officially unemployed. Just me, a dwindling lump of savings, and selection of listings to weed through to find ones that didn’t involve nudity. Mine or otherwise.

“Are you sure you want to leave the business world so soon?” Willow asked. “I’m finding tons of jobs for office admin and that kind of thing.”

“I’ll go to it as a backup, but I’d rather find something where I can flex my creative muscles a bit. I’ve got some money while I figure things out.”

Not much, though.

“As a kindergarten teacher, I completely agree that you should find a job that suits you spiritually as well as financially,” she said, her tone diplomatic. “But I do think you need to take into account the fact that creative jobs usually require some sort of post-secondary degree. Being a self-taught artist isn’t enough.”

I sighed, “I know, Will. Like I said, if I don’t find anything I can fall back on my office experience. I just really want to try something new. Something fresh.”

Something that wouldn’t remind me of Max.

“Maybe you don’t even need to be looking at jobs right now.”

I tossed a quizzical stare at my best friend. “What do you mean? Of course, I do.” My tone came out harsher than I intended. I sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. This whole process is just taking a toll on me, you know? I feel like I’m running out of time to find my place in the world, meanwhile everybody else seems to have it all figured out.”

“You could take some time off, do some soul searching.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes, still staring at the screen of her laptop.

She’d been acting strange all day since I first asked her to come over and help me look for jobs. Willow was normally a fairly strange person anyway, so I didn’t think much of it at first. But telling me not to apply to any jobs was distinctly out of character. When I first quit two weeks ago, she’d sent me an email with links to several job boards that very same day.

“I don’t understand you at all,” I mused.

Willow laughed. “Me neither sometimes.”

Her phone trilled from the arm of the couch, and Willow practically leapt into the air.

“Oh my God, relax,” I said, laughing. “It’s just your phone.”

She snatched it up and rose to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

I lifted a brow in response to her strange and sudden need for privacy, but didn’t press it. She was entitled to not have me listen in on her phone calls if she wanted.

Willow slipped off to the bathroom. While I continued searching for jobs, finding nothing that I was qualified for much less interested in, I was feeling even more demoralized by the second. The anxiety swirling thick in my chest refused to abate, and all I wanted to do was call Max. I’d been fighting the urge all week. Willow was great, but I knew a few words and a hug from Max, and I wouldn’t be worrying anymore. Too bad I’d burned that bridge.

She came back a few minutes later, smiling nervously at me as she resettled into her spot on the other side of the couch.

“Right... where were we?” She rubbed her hands together and pulled the laptop back over her knees.

“Maybe I should just go home.” The words came out small and weak, which was exactly how I felt for saying them in the first place.

“You are home.”

I tossed her a pointed look and her mouth formed into a silent “O.”

“You can’t go back there,” she said, less than a second later. “You hated it there. You spent all your teenage years plotting your escape.”

“True,” I said, “but I also know that my parents will take care of me. I’ve got some money to get me by, but rent isn’t cheap and if I don’t find a job soon then I’ll blow through my savings in no time.” I shrugged. “Besides, maybe it’s gotten less horrible. I mean, it’s not like they ever beat me or anything. Surely they can’t be as controlling, now that I’m a grown adult and all.”

She snorted. “Less horrible? I doubt it. If anything, you going back would just give your parents the motivation to tighten things down even more. I might never see you again.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. This is all just stressing me out. I’m beginning to wonder if leaving Goodman-Westfield was a mistake.”

Willow reached down the sofa and rested her hand on my arm. “You did what you needed to do. Now you just have to trust that things are going to work out. Don’t go home. Stay in New York with me and we’ll find you a job if it’s the last thing we do.”

We lapsed into silence, save for the clicking of keys as we scrolled through pages of job listings.

I wondered if Max missed me. As an employee. As a lover. Probably a little of both, though I hardly found the idea comforting. At the end of the day, he had still let me go. He’d let me leave. It wasn’t like he was supposed to chase after me on a white steed or anything, but he didn’t exactly put up much of a fight. I barely spoke to him during those last two weeks, and he did the same. Maybe he was secretly relieved that I quit the job… and him.

Our quiet was interrupted once more by Willow’s cell phone. She swore and jumped off the couch, bounding to the bathroom without even excusing herself this time.

I tried to listen to see if I could catch any lines of her conversation, but she was too far away and I didn’t think it would be right to get up and snoop. She returned a couple minutes later, her face a little pinker than when she’d left.

“What is going on with your phone today?” I asked jokingly, even though I was completely serious. “Have you started a telephone sex line or something?”

She burst out into nervous laugh, “No, nothing like that. I’m getting a haircut next week and they keep having to move my appointment.”

That was one of the worst excuses she’d ever come up with, but something about her evasiveness told me not to press further. She leaned over her laptop, letting a curtain of her hair cover her face as she got right back down to business.

“You know Emma, if it comes down to it, that telephone sex line thing, might not be a bad idea for you.”

Chapter 32

Emma

For the third time in the past minute, I reminded myself to breathe.

It wasn’t a big deal, just a job interview for a cushy position in a consulting firm. Granted, it was a firm I couldn’t even remember applying to and a job that I was undoubtedly unqualified for, but still. I was going to be fine. If I didn’t get it, no big deal. I wanted to stick with more creative stuff anyway, didn’t I?

I took another breath. In. Out.

It had been a week since my last day at Goodman-Westfield and I hadn’t had any other bites on my resume yet. Much as I told myself this wasn’t a big deal, it was kind of a big deal. I needed to start earning income soon.

I straightened my blouse again, unnecessarily so, then grabbed my keys and purse, and was out the door. The company’s head office was in a swanky building in downtown Manhattan, not too far from where I’d been working only a week before. It was almost like going home.

I couldn’t help but think about Max the entire subway ride downtown. I wished I was heading back to his building instead, and that I could walk right back in like I’d been on a long coffee run and nobody would be the wiser. But there was a new person sitting at my desk now, a young woman named Farah who I tried not to be too jealous of when I was training her. She was sweet and clever, and would probably be a great personal assistant to Max. I knew I had no claim over him anymore, but all the same I hoped that a personal assistant was all she would be.

I re-straightened my blouse. Again. Staring up at the glass skyscraper, I gulped. Over the past week, the stress of not having a job had been getting to me. Not quite as much as the angst of not having Max had been getting to me, but the two together combusted into something quite desperate indeed. Because of that, this whole situation felt very life or death.

I lowered my gaze and prepared to walk through the revolving front doors, only to see Willow blocking my path. She was grinning from ear to ear, and I frowned as I approached.

“Are you here to wish me well?” I asked.

She laughed and grabbed my arm, tugging me in the opposite direction. “Not exactly.”

I struggled against her grip. “Hey! I’ve got a job interview in ten minutes. What are you doing?”

“I need you to trust me,” Willow said, still dragging me down the street. “Can you do that?”

I stopped resisting and starting walking alongside her. She still didn’t let go of my hand, and in fact squeezed it harder than ever.

“Willow, tell me what’s going on.”

“What’s going on,” Willow said, pulling me to the curb in front of a big black limo, “is that you’re getting in that limo.”

The driver got out when he saw us and walked around the back, opening the door. Willow waved impatiently toward it.

“Come on, girl. We don’t have all day.”

I took one last look at the building I was leaving behind and groaned. “Fine. But you better tell me what’s going on once we get inside.”

Willow did not tell me what was going on when we got inside. In fact, she stayed irritatingly silent as she uncorked a champagne bottle and poured me a glass.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew that Willow didn’t have this kind of money, which only left one question—where was all of this coming from?

“Willow,” I said. “Does this have something to do with Max?”

She spilled a little of the champagne as she handed it to me, wincing. “It’s a surprise.”

“Willow...” I lowered my voice but accepted the glass all the same. I needed a drink. I’d been on one roller coaster ride of a day so far and suspected it wasn’t going to be over anytime soon.

“It’s a surprise,” she persisted. “You’ll ruin it if you keep asking me questions. You know I’m not a great liar.”

“Which is why I’m asking you in the first place,” I muttered bitterly.

Willow laughed and tipped back her head as she drank more of the champagne. I watched out the window, looking for clues. If this did have something to do with Max, then why was Willow involved? And what was up with the limo?

“Did you fabricate a job interview to get me out here today?” I asked.

Willow’s only response was a mischievous grin. I sighed.

The ride only got more confusing when we arrived at our destination.

“We’re here!” Willow announced cheerily while we waited for the driver to come open the door.

I peered out the window, not quite believing my eyes. “The Fulton?” I asked. “What are we doing here?”

“You really don’t understand the concept of a surprise, do you?”

I glared sourly at her.

The Fulton Hotel was an elegant, art deco building that had stayed relatively untouched in terms of style since the 1920s. I picked it out when I first moved to New York as the dream venue for my dream wedding. Everything about it, from the golden geometric patterned lights to the sumptuous maroon carpeting spoke of old world glamor. They had a gorgeous honeymoon suite too, one I would kill to spend the night in. Especially if it meant I got to have my dream wedding beforehand, too.

Willow and I stepped out onto the sidewalk and she grabbed my hand again, pulling me through the front doors. My head swiveled this way and that as I struggled to take in the hotel’s opulence, wanting to commit as much of it to memory as possible. I didn’t know when I would get another chance to do so. The fact that I was even inside the building was a dream come true.

Willow stopped in front of the elevator and we stepped inside. She punched the button for the fourth floor and swayed back and forth on her heels as we ascended.

“When are you going to tell me what the surprise is?”

I was starting to get impatient now. This whole journey had been overwhelming to say the least, and I feared that my imagination was going to make a fool out of me if I didn’t put a stop to it soon. Visions of Max in a black tux, waiting downstairs by an altar wrapped in golden vines danced through my head.

“The thing about surprises is that you find out when you’re supposed to find out,” she said. “And not a second before.”

I groaned, “You’re killing me.”

“Well you’re going to love me in a minute, so I wouldn’t say anything you’ll regret.” She winked.

The doors slid open and Willow grabbed my hand again, practically bounding down the corridor. She lurched to a stop in front of one of the rooms, digging in her purse and producing a keycard. After unlocking the door, she thrust it open dramatically and all but pushed me inside.

My confusion churned, turning into something else. Disbelief. Excitement. Anxiety.

I wanted to believe that the scene in front of me was real, but I was afraid that if I did it would all disappear into a gust of smoke.

Paulina Westfield was lounging on a chaise by a long, sun-soaked window overlooking the opposite hotel. She had a glass of champagne in one hand, and she used the other to beckon me closer.

It wasn’t Paulina that had me so concerned, though. It was the garment rack positioned next to her, or rather the white gown hanging from it.

I rushed forward, not even saying a word of greeting to Paulina before my hands clutched at the lace and silk dream in front of me.

“Oh my God...” I ran my palms down the length of it, smooth beading gliding over my skin. “This is... this is my wedding dress.”

The words didn’t even start to sink in until a few seconds after I’d said them. So, I said them again.

“This is my wedding dress!”

Not only did I now understand that all this cloak and dagger nonsense had been to surprise me with my dream wedding in my dream venue, but this was also my dream wedding dress. A sweetheart neckline, lace cap sleeves, and a tight-fitting bodice with an A-line skirt. Pnina Tornai. Expensive as hell.

It was my dress. The dress I never thought I’d end up owning, but had salivated over anyway, because it was something to do.

“We had to conference with the Pnina ourselves,” Paulina drawled, rising to her feet. “It was not easy to get it done in such a condensed amount of time, so if it doesn’t fit properly, I’m afraid it will have to do.”

“Have to do?” I repeated, turning to her with wide eyes. “I would walk down the aisle in this dress even if it was so tight I couldn’t move. This is incredible!”

I flung my arms wide and gathered Paulina into a massive hug before she had a chance to scuttle away. She weakly embraced me, taking a sip of champagne over my shoulder.

I released her and turned to Willow, who’d followed me into the room and was now standing just behind me.

“You did this? I’m confused.”

“I did nothing,” Willow said. “Except provide a little expertise where I could. And kidnap you today, obviously.” She smiled, “It was all Max, Em. He found your Pinterest board.”

“That boy is a hopeless romantic,” Paulina said, airily. “He gets it from his mother of course.”

My chest bubbled with excitement. I still couldn’t believe all this was happening. Even though the facts and proof were in front of me, I half-expected Max to be missing in action by the time I got downstairs.

“You need to start getting ready,” Willow said. “I just texted the stylists and told them to come up. You should probably go hop in the shower.”

“This is happening now?” I asked. “Like today?”

I didn’t know why they would pull me in here with so much drama if it were happening tomorrow, but it was still too surreal for me to digest.

All the feelings that I’d been trying to suppress for Max burst in my chest like fireworks. Tears sprang to my eyes and Willow wrapped me into a hug before I started blubbering like a crazy person right in front of my soon-to-be husband’s mother.

“If you want this, it’s happening now,” she murmured, rubbing my back. “But you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

She was confusing my crying for hesitation, which was understandable. But the second I realized that it was the day of my wedding, I knew there was no place I’d rather be.

“No. I want to be here,” I told her. “Now let go of me. There’s a lot of work to do, and if I’m getting married today, I’m gonna need some time to shave my legs.”

Chapter 33

Emma

Max had tailored almost every detail of this day to my fantasy design. The hairstylist already knew what I wanted for my hair, the make-up artist already knew what I wanted for my face, and the only thing that seemed to be missing was the groom. I hadn’t seen Max in over a week. Outside of my dreams, anyway. Part of me kept wondering if this was all another dream, a big cosmic joke that I’d wake up from… back in my little bed in my little apartment that I was going to lose soon because the only job interview I’d managed to score turned out to be fake.

Then I’d reach over and run my fingertips over the dress, and I’d feel how the textures swirled together, just like I knew they would when I looked at the pictures.

Though Max had gotten every detail perfectly right, the one thing I hadn’t planned for my wedding was being rushed. I felt like my hair and make-up were being perfected by forces of nature, not by two women wielding hair spray and blush.

Being rushed ended up being a good thing. At first it was a little overwhelming, but I soon found I didn’t want to wait any longer to see Max. Knowing he was downstairs waiting for me was torture.

“What did he say to you?” I asked Willow, as she inspected her maid of honor dress in the full-length mirror.

A pained expression crossed her face. “I don’t think I’m supposed to say anything. I know there’s a lot that he wants to tell you and I don’t want to ruin it.”

My heart picked up even faster, something that I hadn’t thought possible.

“Wait.” I put out my hand to stop Megan, the hair stylist, midway through braiding a section of my hair. She moved to the side to allow me to see Willow properly, and I skewered my best friend with my best hard gaze. “He’s not just doing this because he thinks it’s the only way to get me back, is he?”

Willow’s mouth flopped open and my heart sank. I hadn’t considered this possibility until now, because I was so high on the fantasy of my dream wedding, but my dream wedding would be a nightmare if the groom didn’t want to get married at all. And why would Max have a sudden change of heart on one of his key issues?

God no. My stomach surged up my throat and I felt like I was going to puke.

“Calm down, darling,” Paulina purred.

She was back to reclining on the chaise, holding her champagne flute aloft and looking for all intents and purposes like an ancient Greek goddess.

“I can assure you that my son is not a man who would enter into something as serious as a marriage without thinking it through. He just wouldn’t do it.” She took a sip of her drink, smacking her lips dramatically. “I had a similar thought, you know, and I interrogated him. I can assure you his desires are quite genuine in nature.”

This. This was what I needed to hear today.

My heart swelled, and the final piece of my dream wedding—an enthusiastic, loving groom—fell into place.

“Let’s do this.”

It was amazing to think how long I’d been planning the details of this wedding. My Pinterest board was full of ideas for center pieces, chair covers, even place settings. I’d spent hours browsing and organizing for a wedding that I half-expected never to occur.

If it did happen, I figured as I planned, each of these minute details would shine like a beacon to me on the actual day. I would traipse down the aisle feeling accomplished, like I’d done a good job of preparing a slideshow presentation or thrown a good party.

One thing I’d never planned for, never anticipated, was forgetting that any of those details existed, which is exactly what happened to me the moment the doors to the ceremony space swung open to admit me.

It didn’t matter that the roses were the right shade of cream, or that the chairs were perfectly arranged in rows of eight on either side of the aisle. It didn’t matter that Max’s tux had sprigs of baby’s breath in his pocket that matched my bouquet. None of it mattered a lick.

The only thing that mattered wasn’t a thing at all, but a man. He was tall, broad, and had a grin that could disarm a ticking bomb. His eyes were the blue of rolling waves, and every time I looked into them I risked getting lost. And sometimes I hoped I would.

And this man, this beautiful person who had helped lift me out of a funk I’d been swirling in for years, was now waiting for me at the end of the carpeted aisle. And it was our wedding day.

It could have been on a beach in Mexico or in a crappy twenty-four-hour chapel in Vegas. It could have been on the back of a camel somewhere in the middle of the desert. The moment my eyes landed on him I no longer cared where the damn wedding was held or what kind of flowers were in the centerpieces. More than anything, I just wanted Max for the rest of my life.

Everyone stood as I walked through the door. I was surprised to see how many people Max had managed to corral on such short notice. Half of the office was here, as well as a fair few unfamiliar faces who I assumed were Westfield family friends.

What surprised me the most was the two familiar faces from the front row, both staring at me, teary-eyed. My parents. How had Max found my parents?

One of the things that had never featured into my wedding planning was my family. I never intended to have my father walk me down the aisle, and had no dress picked out for the mother of the bride. Max knew that, but he’d invited them here anyway. I wouldn’t have, but now that I was seeing them for the first time in years, I was able to see through all the manipulation and bad feelings. I was grateful they were here. I didn’t know how much longer we could go on like this, with me pretending that the whole state of Illinois didn’t exist and that I’d sprung from the dirt instead of from my mother’s womb.

It was time to forgive them. Maybe not today, but sometime soon. Today was my wedding day, though, and everything between us needed to be cast aside.

“Hey beautiful.”

I was still standing in the doorway, clutching my bouquet in a death grip as I absorbed everything going on around me.

Max was holding a microphone now, his other hand thrust casually in his pants pocket.

“Hey,” I replied weakly.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“I wasn’t going to miss my own wedding, was I?”

Everyone laughed.

Max’s eyes twinkled. “Before you walk down that aisle and make me the luckiest man in the world, I wanted to say a couple things. I know the speeches are generally after the ceremony, but we’re not exactly doing things by the book here, are we?”

More laughter from the crowd. I giggled. This hadn’t been part of my wedding plan either, but so far I liked it.

“I’m not the kind of guy who connects with people easily,” Max began. “I tend to form very surface level attachments, which is something that has vexed my mother to no end in my lifetime, but never really bothered me. I never thought I’d be standing where I am now based purely on the fact that I didn’t think I could be with anyone long term. I didn’t think I had it in me.”

He smiled, and my belly filled with warmth. His eyes held my gaze while he spoke, and the other people in the room seemed to just fade away.

“Then you came along, Emma. You intrigued me from the moment I first laid eyes on you, from the moment I first talked to you. You challenged me, challenged everything I thought I knew about myself. But I didn’t adapt fast enough and I nearly lost you. I did lose you, I suppose, even though I knew that it would only be temporary, because I would do anything to be with you. So I started planning.” He gestured around him, at the decorations and the guests. “I brought your dream wedding to life. I knew how much the vision in your head meant to you, and I was more than happy to draw it into real life. This wedding is a gift for you, Emma. The woman I love. The woman I would do anything to protect, and who I will cherish for the rest of my life.” He grinned. “And while yes, this wedding is a gift to you, the honor of getting to call you my wife...” His eyes narrowed on mine. “That’s my gift to me. I love you.”

The room erupted into applause. I realized my cheeks were wet with tears and I wiped them away, laughing at how ridiculous the whole situation felt.

“I love you too,” I mouthed over the din. He stared at me, smiling, and handed the microphone back to the officiator. With a flick of his wrist, the band in the corner struck up the Wedding March.

I put one foot in front of the other, closer with every step to the man of my dreams and the life I could have never dreamed I would have.

Things were starting to wind down on the dance floor, with only a few couples left swaying, including my husband and me.

My husband.

Me, Emma Westfield. My husband, Maximilian Augustus Westfield. Together we were the Westfields. I still wasn’t over it, and might never be. Good thing I had the rest of my life left to adjust to the change.

“What’s on your mind,” Max murmured into my ear as we swayed across the dance floor. “You’re being very quiet.”

“I’m just enjoying the moment.” I leaned against his chest, my forehead resting just under his shoulder. I felt so safe in his arms, so secure. Not just physically, either. It was like his scent wrapped me in some unseen barrier that separated me from the rest of the world. When I was with Max, I was free.

“So, how’d I do?” He leaned back and tipped up my chin with his hands, forcing me to meet his eyes. His lips were turned up ever-so-slightly because he already knew he’d done an amazing job. Jennifer Lopez had nothing on him when it came to wedding planning.

“It was everything I dreamed it to be, and yet not at all what I pictured,” I replied.

A troubled frown marred his handsome features. “That’s a good thing, right?”

I laughed, “Yes. It’s a good thing…a very good thing.”

He released my chin and folded me back against his chest.

“Good.”

We continued to sway, letting the music carry us around the floor. I never wanted the moment to end. Tonight had been perfect, even if I’d had an unanticipated conversation with my parents that I had to get through. It had gone better than I imagined it would, and for the first time in years I began to think that maybe we could have some sort of relationship going forward. The reception dinner was delicious and fun, with both Willow and Jeremy giving speeches that had me in tears. And now, tired but happy, I was ready for whatever the rest of my life wanted to throw at me.

Max’s chest rumbled and I looked up at him questioningly to find the source of his laughter. His attention was fixed somewhere behind me, and I craned my neck to see what it was.

“They’re getting very cozy,” Max commented lowly.

Jeremy and Willow were dancing at the other end of the floor. Her arms wound around his neck while his circled her waist, and the position was so intimate that I began to wonder if the wedding wasn’t the only thing Willow kept from me these past few weeks.

I turned back to Max and grinned. “When the hell did that happen?”

He shrugged his burly shoulders and spun me. “I don’t know. Crazier things have happened, I suppose.”

“Thank you for today, Max. I don’t know if I’ve said that yet. Or enough.”

“No, babe, thank you.” He kissed my forehead. “I’m just glad I get to keep you forever.”

“I mean it.” I caught his gaze. “You didn’t have to invite my parents or make your mom get ready with me or any of that. I appreciate it.”

His eyes crinkled with warmth. “I’m glad you liked it. I tried to invite Lance, but he didn’t show for some reason.”

I laughed and punched him in the arm. “You scoundrel.”

“Your scoundrel,” he corrected.

And my scoundrel he was and would always be. A scoundrel who wore business suits, but occasionally threw punches, who was completely inappropriate in the workplace, but always seemed to do the right thing.

A scoundrel who stole my heart with an easy smile and a bucketful of innuendo.

My scoundrel.

Chapter 34

Max

I was beginning to see the appeal of weddings. I already saw the appeal of marriage, and would never regret the vows I made today. Weddings, on the other hand, had always seemed a concept that was a bit over the top to me. They were expensive and seemed pointless for anything other than overindulging and rubbing one’s wealth in the face of another. But, I’d never been to a wedding quite like my own, so filled with love and happiness. The ones I went to were usually dull affairs with society people I had no interest in, and who had even less interest in each other.

But this, this was perfection.

The lights, the atmosphere, the beautiful blushing bride. I wished I could relive it over and over again.

But if I relived it over and over again, I would never get to the real fun part of the evening, which was where we were headed now.

“I swear to God, Max, if you drop me on my wedding day I will spend the rest of my life making yours a living hell.”

I hefted Emma further up into my arms, making a show of nearly losing my hold on her. In truth, she weighed next to nothing, and it would take one hell of a plot twist for me to drop her. I liked teasing her though.

“I’d like to see you try,” I commented, grinning down at her as we made our way down the hallway.

She glared back sourly at me. “Don’t test me.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

I’d insisted on carrying her the entire way up to our hotel suite, even though she’d said it was only necessary for me to carry her over the threshold. But, as far as I was concerned, it was go big or go home.

We reached the door and I adjusted my grip while I pulled the key card out of my back pocket. She hummed her displeasure at the jostling. I just laughed.

The door swung open and I stepped through, depositing her safely on the ground once we were inside. She adjusted her dress, smoothing out the creases.

“I wouldn’t bother with that,” I said, pressing the door closed. “I’m about to rip that off you.”

“No ripping!” Her eyes widened, “It’s a Pnina Tornai.”

I stalked toward her, smirking. “I have no idea what that means.”

“It means you can’t rip it!”

I grabbed her shoulders and spun her so her back was to me, running my fingers down the line of pearl buttons holding her dress together. She shivered.

“Cold, baby?”

Emma shook her head, glancing back over her shoulder at me. I stared deep into her eyes as I undid the first button with care. Then the second. I went down the entire back, going through God only knew how many buttons until the dress gaped open to reveal her smooth back.

The graceful curve of her neck called to me, and I couldn’t resist it any longer. I dove down and sucked on her throat, pulling her back hard against my chest and letting my hands roam along the lacy bodice of the dress.

“I missed you,” I murmured.

“I missed you too.”

I nibbled on her neck as I pulled the shoulders down, easing the dress off until it slid to the floor with a quiet whoosh. She was wearing nothing but a white lace bra and panties underneath, and it was so hot my cock instantly stiffened. I turned her in my arms and held her at a distance while my eyes hungrily devoured the image like a tasty morsel.

“You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

Her face lit up. “I would say you’ve never looked more handsome, but I think your look could be improved by the removal of a piece of clothing or two.”

“Who am I to deny a request from my wife?”

I slid out of my tuxedo jacket and let it fall to the floor. Emma watched me with interest as I moved down the buttons of my shirt, pulling it out from the waistband of my pants once I reached the bottom, so that it fell loose and open.

“That’s a bit better,” she teased, strutting toward me like a fantasy come to life.

Her fingers slipped under my shirt and guided it down my arms until it joined the jacket on the floor. My skin prickled from her touch, and I found myself unable to move. I watched her as she traced each of my muscles with her fingertips, loving how the gold band on her left hand winked in the light.

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold back before I devoured her. Those sumptuous breasts spilled over the cups of her bra, beckoning me. There was something so virginal, yet sexy about the white lace lingerie.

Emma leaned forward and pressed her hot lips to my nipple, nibbling on the sensitive flesh. I groaned, shaking, and gripped her by the hips to draw her close. She kissed up my chest, to my collarbone, which was as far as she could reach unaided, and looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes.

A growl rippled from my throat. I’d reached my breaking point.

I fisted her hair in my hand and tipped her head back, covering her mouth with mine and taking her in a dominant, bruising kiss. She moaned and curved against me, pressing those delicious mounds flat against my chest.

Her mouth was sweet with wine. I plunged my tongue inside and explored, holding her head in place. She wouldn’t have struggled anyway, but I wanted to know that if I held her here, I could keep he here forever—pressed up against me with her lips desperately mashing against my own.

Planning this wedding had been stressful. The whole time I kept wondering if it was all in vain, if I’d get everything in place only for her to reject me at the last minute. I wouldn’t have blamed her either, considering that most weddings were preceded by an engagement, not a kidnapping. The relief that surged through me when I got the call from Willow letting me know that everything was on was nothing compared to the relief I felt at having her in my arms again and knowing I wasn’t going to lose her this time. We were on the same page. So deliciously on the same page.

“I love you,” I said against her lips. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too.” She nibbled my lower lip, sucking it into her mouth. “More and more with every second.”

I chuckled, moving one hand to her plump rear and squeezing. “Let’s keep that momentum going.”

The honeymoon suite was a gigantic suite of rooms overlooking the Hudson. It was elegantly furnished, with the centerpiece being a California king size bed laid covered in white Egyptian cotton sheets with an impossibly high thread count. I began to push Emma back in this direction, never letting our mouths separate for even a second.

We reached the bed and I pushed her gently down onto it while I undid my pants and slipped out of them. My cock throbbed with need, and I took great pleasure in knowing that I’d get to have her a multitude of ways before the night was through.

Emma looked so perfect, lying against white bedspread, her pale skin faintly flushed around her breasts and cheeks. The whole wedding would’ve been worth it just for this moment.

I pulled off my boxers and released my hard length, which Emma’s eyes immediately swung to. She bit her lip as I groaned.

“Go further up the bed,” I commanded. “I want lots of space.”

She grinned at my request and scooted up the bedspread, anxiously awaiting my next command. She was always so compliant, so willing. It was enough to drive a man insane with lust.

I climbed across the sheets, parting her thighs and settling between them to grind my cock against her mound as I kissed her. Her panties were deliciously damp, and I parted her folds with my fingers to test her wetness.

“Fuck, baby,” I moaned, nibbling on her neck. “I don’t know if I’ll last. You feel so fucking good.”

“We’ve got all night,” she said, mirroring my thoughts. Goddamn I loved this woman.

I reached under her back with my free hand and unclipped her bra, tossing it to the side. Her tits jiggled enticingly and I bent my head to feast on them while I probed her heat, stroking her clit with a circular motion that sent her hips bucking off the bed. I drew one taut nipple into my mouth, rolling it between my teeth, then released it to move onto the next. Emma’s breaths were coming heavy now, and I could tell from the way her nails clawed into my back that she was in ecstasy. Fuck, I was in ecstasy too. Her pussy was my heaven.

“God, I’m like a firework about to go off,” she groaned. “I haven’t masturbated or anything since we broke up.”

“Seriously?” I grinned up at her, swirling my thumb faster. She squirmed.

“I just wasn’t in the mood,” she panted.

“And how in the mood are you feeling right now?” I blew cold air over her nipples. The points hardened even further.

“Please get your cock in me! Holy hell does that feel good.”

As much as I loved finishing her off with my fingers, I was desperate to get inside of her myself. I’d been jacking off to the thought of her almost every night, but then again, I knew that I’d be getting her back if it was the last thing I did.

Now I had the real thing writhing beneath me, begging me to take her. I wouldn’t disappoint her.

I hastily removed her panties and lined my cock up with her entrance, slowly sinking in. I hissed through my teeth at the pure pleasure of it all. She welcomed me back like an old friend, gripping me tight and urging me deeper. Our hips met and I took a moment to appreciate the feel of her, kissing her hard and deep. Then I began rhythmically thrusting, driving forward with enough force to send her inching up the bed with each thrust.

Our kiss turned sloppy with need. We were wild in our passion for each other, frantically coming together and apart on a rollercoaster of orgasmic bliss. Emma’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she screwed them shut as her pleasure steadily built.

“Look at me,” I commanded.

I wanted to see the moment when her ecstasy peaked. I wanted to see exactly what I did to her.

Her hazel eyes fixed on me and there was desperation in their depths. I groaned and thrust harder, eliciting a shriek from the beautiful woman beneath me.

“I’m so close, Max. God, I’m so close.”

Her words were music to my ears. I pulled out and buried my shaft inside of her again with enough force to knock the air from her lungs. Over and over again, watching the delight surge in her eyes.

Her brows furrowed and her mouth dropped open as a keening wail burst from her throat. I silenced her moan with my kiss as I buried my cock in her, lost into the ecstasy of her walls squeezing me. One more thrust and I rolled over my own edge, keeping our hips flush as I emptied into her.

It felt like I was letting go of every worry and fear I’d ever had, like her womb was a vessel for my pain. Every time we made love it felt a bit like that, but this was different. For the first time ever, we were completely and wholly in sync with each other. No anxieties, no missed communication, nothing. Just love.

Emma wrapped her arms around me, still quaking. “I never want to let you go,” she whispered.

I pressed my lips into the base of her neck, eyes closed. “You never have to.”

Epilogue

6 Months Later ...

The azure sky stretched endlessly above me, pale sunlight warming my upturned face. I breathed in the damp air of early spring, smiling to myself like an idiot. But hell, I had a lot to smile about.

First, it was Friday. I had a whole weekend to work on assignments and relax with my doting husband.

Second, I’d just gotten back my marks on a project for my pop culture painting class, and I’d improved markedly from my first assignment of the year.

I discovered a third reason when I opened my eyes and saw a handsome, well-dressed man standing at the bottom of the building steps. Max grinned up at me, one hand shoved casually in his pocket like he’d just walked off the cover of GQ.

“Hey!” I bounded down and threw my arms around him. “What are you doing here?”

He kissed the top of my head and squeezed me in his arms. “I’m taking you away for the weekend. Surprise!”

I chuckled. “The surprises just don’t end with you, do they?”

“Gotta keep you on your toes somehow.” He patted my rear and pulled back from the hug, winking down at me. “Who knows what a woman like you will do if she gets bored.”

He was just teasing, but I set my jaw in righteous indignation anyway.

“A woman like me? Why I oughta...”

His car was waiting just out front, a sleek black Mercedes that we often took around on the weekends if we felt like getting out of the city for a drive. I tossed my bag in the back and slid in, noting that he’d packed a bag for me and everything.

“Where are we going?” I asked. “Or is that a surprise too?”

“I think picking you up from school is enough surprise for one day.” He lowered himself into the driver’s seat and buckled up. “We’re going out to the Hamptons. Mother just bought a property out there and she says it’s the most divine escape this side of Aruba.”

“This side of Aruba, huh? With a qualifier like that, I’ve got high expectations.”

Max pulled out onto the road, his lips quirked in amusement. “If it’s a shit hole I’m sure we can just keg up in the bedroom all weekend.”

It wouldn’t be a shit hole, but the offer was tempting nonetheless.

“I just have to get gas on the way,” he said. “But after that, it’s just us and the open road.”

He made it sound like we were going on a great All-American road trip, rather than a quick jaunt up Long Island to stay in a swanky home in the Hamptons. I laughed.

By the time we stopped at the gas station, I was feeling thirsty and decided to pop inside for a drink while Max fuelled up. After grabbing a couple bottles of water and some pepperoni sticks, which I just couldn’t kick the craving for, I brought my purchases up to the till and nearly shit my pants.

“Emma?” Lance said, pulling on the collar of his Sip N’ Go uniform. “You look different.”

He looked different too, though I didn’t comment on his overgrown hair or the fact that all the life had drained from his eyes. It didn’t seem polite.

“Uh, yeah. Well, I guess it’s been awhile since we’ve seen each other.”

The bell on the door chimed and I looked back to see Max enter. I knew the moment he realized that Lance was the cashier, because his eyes hardened and narrowed into angry slits. He strode over to me and wrapped his arm around my waist.

I thrust my cash at Max, wanting to end this interaction as quickly as possible.

“You look good though,” Lance offered, which was quite bold considering Max looked like he was about to blow a gasket. Though I’d gotten over everything I’d gone through when I was with Lance, Max still hadn’t. He looked about ready to throw another punch.

“Thanks,” I said. “Uh, you too.”

I took my change and my snacks and made a hasty exit. Max was silent until we were back in the car.

“I didn’t get my chips,” he muttered angrily, driving back onto the road.

I laughed. “Did you want chips?”

“Yeah, that was why I came inside. And then I saw that dingus and completely fucking forgot.”

This time I laughed harder. It seemed ridiculous that Max was jealous of Lance. Or maybe he just hated the guy’s guts and couldn’t stand to be around him. Either way, I figured now would be a good time to announce a surprise of my own. It might not calm him down, but it would at least change the tone of the car ride.

“Hey Max,” I said, unwrapping my pepperoni stick and nibbling off a bite.

“Hey what?”

“Hey, I’m pregnant.”

The car swerved to the side of the road and lurched to a sudden stop. I let out a squawk of confusion, thinking a rabbit had just run onto the road or something. The second we stopped, however, Max reached across the car, unclipped me, and pulled me over onto his lap.

I was about to chastise him for the abrupt stop when his mouth crashed over mine. I could feel the smile on his lips. How could I help but melt into that?

“Thank you, thank you,” he murmured, squeezing me in his arms. “Fuck, this is the best news I’ve ever had.”

My heart skipped with happiness.

I kissed him back, holding his face in my hands as pure joy surged through me.

“Mmm, you taste like pepperoni.”

I pulled back and scowled at him. “Ya had to ruin the moment, didn’t you?”

He pulled me back, chest rumbling with laughter. “I like pepperoni.”

“Well, get used to it, because it’s the only thing I seem to want to eat.”

He thumbed my cheek, staring deep into my eyes. “I’ll make you a palace of pepperoni.”

“I think that would be overkill.”

“Not at all,” he said, more serious now. “You make me the happiest man on earth every single day. A palace of pepperoni seems like a small price to pay for that.”

I tapped the end of his nose, grinning from ear to ear. “Let’s start with letting me finish the stick I already have, and we can go from there.”

He nodded, placed another chaste kiss on my lips, and returned me to my seat, dutifully buckling me back in, even though I had hands and everything.

“To the Hamptons!” I said cheerily.

Max gave me a sidelong grin as he revved up the engine. “Anywhere you want to go, babe. Anywhere.”